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#maternal wounds
maternity-morningstar · 2 months
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Do it Alastor it’s definitely gonna heal you!
(Everyone shut up I thought we were here for the plot, imagine the drama lmao)
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Alastor: *goes back to see Lucifer after his talk with Charlie about hotel security — suddenly feels a wave of pain on his chest as staggers a bit. He looks down and sees his wound had reopened and is bleeding through bandages and his clothes*
Husk and Lucifer: *looking for Alastor and see him leaning against wall*
Lucifer: Alastor! *hurries as fast as his pregnant belly can allow him*
Husk: *hurrying behind*
Alastor: *grits his teeth, trying to stay upright* I'm fine... it's just... a scratch...
Lucifer: *reaches him, panic in his eyes* Alastor, that's not just a scratch! We need to get you help, now!
Husk: *supporting Alastor on the other side* Yeah, this looks bad.
Lucifer: *determined* We're taking you to your room. Come on.
*They manage to get Alastor into his room and lay him down on a bed. Lucifer quickly assesses the situation, his face growing more serious.*
Lucifer: This isn't healing because it's an angelic injury, isn't it?
Alastor: Yes... That fucking Adam...
Husk: *frustrated* Damn it, Alastor! We need to find a way to heal this.
Lucifer: *thinking hard* There's... there's a way. But it's risky.
Husk: What is it?
Lucifer: Alastor needs to consume my blood. Angelic blood can heal these wounds, but... I'm pregnant. I don't know what the side effects might be.
Alastor: *weakly* No... I won't risk... your health... or the babies...
Lucifer: *firmly* We don't have a choice, Alastor. If we don't do this, you could die.
Husk: *concerned* Lu, are you sure about this?
Lucifer: *nods* Yes. We have to try.
Alastor: *softly* Lu...
Lucifer: *sits on the edge of the bed and holds his arm out* Alastor…here. Take a bite…
Alastor: *turns his head away* No.
Lucifer: Alastor please! Just a bite. I promise you won’t hurt me or the babies!
Alastor: *hesitates* Damn it! *reaches over and takes a bite from Lucifer’s arm, wincing as he drinks*
*Moments pass, and slowly, the wound on Alastor's chest begins to close and heal. The pain on his face starts to ease, and he takes a deep, relieved breath.*
Alastor: *softly* Thank you... both of you...
Lucifer: *sits down, exhausted but relieved* Just rest now. We'll make sure you're okay.
Husk: *watching Alastor closely* Yeah, just take it easy…I have a bad feeling…
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[A ghost rises from the floor and puts her cold hand on yours. It's a ghost you haven't seen in a while; she's been hiding from a lot of things, namely the truth. But she's here now... now that she can somewhat understand her child is truly dead. Now she only has two more....]
[She waves hi to you.]
,, hey, m. mrs Torres
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bi-writes · 3 months
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mmmm ;) simon has got a special eye on single-mom!reader, doesn't he? (18+, lactation kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dark content !!!!)
it's your first day back after maternity leave. you already look different, simon notices this immediately. the way you fill out your cargo pants--fuck, there's no way your arse has ever looked so fat. no way your thighs have ever been so plush--ngghhh...
fuck, you've never been prettier. motherhood suits you. your hair is longer. your eyes are a little brighter. and fuck, your tits look so heavy, can't keep his eyes off of them, can't fucking focus, fuck, fuck, fuck--
you look so cute patching him up. pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you string his lacerated skin back together with a practiced stitch, standing between his spread legs as he sits in a chair in your office. he nicked his shoulder real well in training today, and fuck, is he grateful for johnny's heavy hand because you're standing over him, and he has a front-row seat to the greatest view of his fucking life.
christ, they practically jiggle with every movement you make. you pop the cap off some disinfectant, and the little bounce of your chest makes him chub up immediately, and he doesn't trust the buckle of his belt anymore because you're so fucking hot. and god, it isn't fair, this isn't fair, you must be teasing him--because as he's staring shamelessly at your pretty, perky nipples, he notices the fabric of your shirt beginning to grow damp.
you notice his line of sight after you tie off his wound. you look down, gasping, your hands dropping your supplies to come up and cup your breasts and cover the wetness of your shirt.
"god--dammit," you breathe. you haven't gotten a chance to pump today, it's been so busy in the clinic, and god, they ache.
you're his sergeant. his pretty little soldier. he just wants to help you. he's just helping you, isn't he? that's what this is when he draws his big hands up, shifting your shirt until it nestles below your nursing bra. he's just helping you when he unlatches the strap with ease, drawing down the soft material and baring your tits for him, his eyes bulging when he sees how wet the skin is, how they glisten.
his mouth is so warm. it's the perfect relief after such a long day. his tongue is soft and careful, swirling in heated circles as he soothes the ache in the throbbing fat there. you're so wet--soaking your panties, you know you are, your hormones firing wildly as he pulls back, opening his mouth and catching just a dribble of the warm essence that leaks from one breast. finally, finally--fuck, he's so good at this, his mouth latching onto you again as he groans loudly. he's so sick, it's so fucking lewd, but god dammit, it's just what you need, you need this, you need this.
he likes you like this. he likes you fat around the hips and leaking from your tits and spilling sweetness into your panties. he needs to keep you this way. he needs to keep you pretty and aching and starving for the relief that he knows he can give you.
he doesn't care whose kid it is, he wants to keep you this way. he'd let johnny or gaz fuck you stupid after this if it meant plugging you up and making you full and beautiful and round again. he's never wanted kids anyway, he knows he probably shoots blanks, it's why you got pregnant so fast after he shut the door on your relationship and refused to open it again, isn't it?
nnghghhgh...
fuck, his pants are already shoved low, just enough that he can pull himself out. he's so heavy, balls so full and aching so badly, he's hardly slapping against his stomach. you slip your own trousers off, eager to get back into his lap, practiced pretty girl sinking down onto him and riding him for her life in the dark of her office.
he buries his face into your chest. they're bouncing every time you smack your hips back down against his, and he can't stop the noises he's making as he suckles your tits in his mouth and uses a firm grip on your ass to meet your thrusts with force. fuck, he'd forgotten what a nice cunt you had--he'd forgotten how nice and soft you are, how messy and wet you get, how whenever he fucks you, his entire pelvis is always soaked with the slick of you because you can never stop creaming on his cock.
"so big," you babble, just like you used to, and he grunts as he aims for that little spot inside of you that makes you cry. he wants to see those pretty tears falling down your face, but all it took this time was his tongue sucking on your achy nipples to make you pouty and sobbing.
fuck, you've always been good at taking him, you always were such a good girl, but now he's overwhelmed. your body is so different and yet the same, and he likes it so much more--fuck, there's so much to grab onto now, the smacking of your skin is loud, and you've always been such a wet girl, but now you're positively dripping. he grits his teeth as he looks down finally, watching the way you've wet his trousers, his boxers, your thighs, the goddamn chair. he can't wait to lay you down after this and put his head between your thighs, can't wait to get those tits back in his mouth and make you cry again and again and again and again--
yeah, yeah, yeah--fuck, fuck, fuck--
you collapse after he cums. whimpering, taking two of his fingers and fitting them into your mouth so you have something to suck on, something you always used to do for comfort. he hisses a little as he pulls out just a little, globs of cum dribbling onto the seat before he eases you back down again. you whine, clinging onto him, your eyes shutting as he shoves his cum practically into your stomach.
yeah, fuck--he's gonna make his little sergeants take you nice after this. he needs you to stay like this, needs to keep you fat and pretty and swollen. don't mind the chunky babies you'll have, he'll take care of you, sweetheart, he'll be the daddy that son of a bitch never gave you, yeah?
he grabs the phone nearest to him to check the time as you settle on wobbly legs into the seat next to him. it must be your phone, because there's a picture of a smiling baby as the background. his eyes flicker to yours, and when you catch his gaze, you swallow hard. there's a giant chubby baby you're holding in that picture.
with blond hair and dark eyes (;
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yessirplease69 · 3 months
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❝Domain Expansion: Love❞
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Synopsis: You are Gojo Satoru's only weakness. When the bearer of the Six Eyes discerns that your life is in jeopardy, he will do everything to keep you safe.
෴ Genre: fiction, fanfiction, mystery, dark fantasy, short story, one shot, romance, imagine.
෴ Content: husband!gojo satoru × wife!reader, jujutsu society, sorcerer!reader, angst, fluff, sensitive content, bloodshed, suggestive (mature content), satoru gojo!yandere, satoru gojo!tsundere, this takes place shortly before the shibuya incident arc, reader has a maternal relationship with megumi, pregnancy.
෴ Word Count: 3.4K
— Oi, I ain't revised it yet, so sorry if there's any mistakes! Hope u enjoy it 🤞✨
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Satoru Gojo is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in existence. However, the moment he sees you, his beautiful wife, unconscious on the battlefield with nearly incurable wounds, this man's world crumbles completely. Suddenly, all of his physical and mental energy is being drained, even his enthusiasm to exorcise curses vanishes. He is motionless in place, trembling enough with wide eyes under the black blindfold, and even though they are hidden, they scrutinize all the blood leaving different parts of your body. Minutes ago, there was a stupid and arrogant smile shaping the face of the confident man all the time as he killed horrendous creatures. A countenance of terror overtakes his face now. He feels his legs weakening, his feet seem to be too far from the ground, and he remembers that he is not manipulating the space to make it levitate. He is feeling weak for not having been able to arrive in time to protect you, this emotion has intertwined with him. Especially since Satoru Gojo never even had a weakness until you came into his life.
His heart is beating rapidly and his breath is so intense that all the curses around him are impacted by the reaction of the mighty man among them. Time frenetically ceases as the strong cursed technique is creating an invisible barrier in the air and continues to repel the malevolent creatures that persist in their futile attempt to touch the bearer of Mukagen and Rokugan, while he himself is left vulnerable like a puppy that has just lost its owner.
Didn't she use the reverse cursed technique to stay healed?
Why...
"Satoru." The presence and hesitant voice of Nanami become noticeable at a certain distance. The tie-wearing sorcerer clenches his jaw, too tense as he sees you in a deplorable state. Nanami fails to try not to show all his agony. Witnessing one of his closest friends on the brink of death equals the feeling of having his heart cut with the cursed blade he carries.
Amid the scene, Satoru is lowering the blindfold covering his eyes, the white locks of hair cascading as the black cloth falls. The fabric hangs on his neck before revealing the orbs, the bright blue darkening as a storm brews within them. A lost and distressed gaze is exposed on his face, as if you somehow took his emotions along with you.
"My wife shouldn't be on that suicide mission." The tone of voice of the Jujutsu High teacher is harsh, firm in the way he usually imposes on a very serious subject. A power which makes the walls vibrate when he is arguing with Gakuganji. He is so angry.
As he melancholically walks towards you, the semi-grade 1 curses around him are exploded in a matter of seconds. There are parts of physical structures scattered and fluids like blood painting the ground at this moment, justified by the power of his ability to manipulate space.
"I should've just isolated her from the world, maybe locked her on the 15th floor of a building and then acted as if I didn't do that." A small sad smile forms on the edge of his mouth, he is imagining how you would laugh at this idea if you were conscious now. You would probably find it absurd and put him to sleep on the couch.
Damn, he misses you and wonders why it hurts so much. His intention is to act quickly to take you to the jujutsu sorcerer doctors and stay by your side the whole time while they are taking care of you. He will not leave you for even a minute, and those are the words of Gojo Satoru against anyone. If someone dares to touch you right in front of him, he will definitely be willing to kill.
The strongest sorcerer abandons these thoughts, he does not hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around your body, holding you close to his chest. The man notices the wounds on parts of your face, your jujutsu uniform is dirty with blood and so destroyed, revealing your naked skin. The sweet taste on his tongue is bitter now, his mind can only focus on the fact that you suffered from fighting until you could not take it anymore. You resisted too much because of your undeniable strength, and on one hand he feels so proud of it. He loves showing everyone that his wife is one of the best professional jujutsu sorcerers, strong like him. But you should not be dealing with this cruel world. You are the most precious thing to him.
Satoru could feel your energy miles away, making it easy to identify your presence. But now he's not sensing any cursed energy flowing according to your emotions. It's all so quiet and calm. The powerful energy emanation should be surrounding your body as it always has, but it's as if something inside you is blocking it right now, since he can't feel your aura. It's different. He will question Shoko about this as soon as he takes your body to her for analysis.
"Do not mention it to the students, especially Megumi." The request leaves Satoru's mouth like a command. He imagines how the teenage Fushiguro would react upon finding out your condition, as you had become a maternal figure by making sure to take care of him since he was so young. The spiky-haired student is on a mission with others, and the best choice is not to disclose the information as the bad news would have a big negative impact on the boy. Gojo knows you would want that too.
On the other side of the area, the grade 1 sorcerer nods in deep silence. Nanami feels the muscles strengthen beneath his formal clothes. He is aware of the gravity of the situation, the actions and the consequences. He is not one to conceal lies, but that will be an exception he makes.
"She's losing a lot of blood." The blond man pushes his glasses closer to his eyes with his hands as he gazes at the white-haired sorcerer. He sighs deeply, containing the desperation within him. "Take her out of here before it's too late."
"Thank you, Nanami."
And that was the last thing Satoru Gojo said before teleporting with you unconscious in his arms.
෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊
The night takes over the city, darkness has crept upon Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and 2 hours have passed since the sorcerer of the Six Eyes emerged in the place, insane, with you clinging to his chest and enraged enough as he searched for an available doctor. Gojo laid your body down onto the nearest stretcher, his hands dirty and consumed by your blood, staining the sheets red and making a mess. 2 hours ago he was screaming at anyone who crossed his path. At this moment, silence hangs in the air like a fog, it is peaceful again behind the school doors.
In one of the infirmary rooms, you are peacefully sleeping on the stretcher. Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion, your body completely healed through the spell cursed technique reversal performed by professionals. The minor wounds and even the most serious ones - like the rupture of your rib - had vanished, and your skin is renewed under the hospital gown you are now dressed in. Sitting in a chair quite close to you, the strongest sorcerer is comfortable with legs apart, assuming a relaxed posture as he rests the upper part of his body on your legs enclosed by the sheets. Satoru Gojo is resting, his eyelids is closed and his head supported by his own arms. He spent so much time watching you sleep that his eyes were influenced by exhaustion. Satoru has no idea of the time he spent caressing your face, running his fingers through your hair, and kissing your forehead several times before settling into his current position. His neck is turned towards the ceiling, his white hair falling naturally loose. There is only a black t-shirt hugging his torso as he had taken off the jacket of his jujutsu attire since your blood had stained most of his clothes. The exposed skin of his arms is almost glistening in the light of the room.
He has kept you safe all this time, only leaving you when he realized that everything was under control. The man always ensures to protect you at all costs, even though most of the time you don't need it. After inspecting the entire perimeter and realizing that you were safe at Jujutsu High, he went to finish the mission that was according to the superiors, just as it had been ordered to you. Since he completed the task of exorcising a special grade curse, his precious time now remains only for you. By the time indicated on the wall clock, Satoru wishes so much to take you home and he only thinks about holding you close until morning comes again. Nevertheless, Shoko was quite insistent when she said that you still require monitoring by a doctor, and that for now you should stay here. What did she mean by that?
This question echoes in Satoru's mind, suddenly he awakens fully and opens his eyes as quickly as if he felt some creature attacking him without warning. A movement of your legs under the sheets does not go unnoticed by him, his blue orbs almost popping out as they contemplate you lazily waking up from eternal rest. For him, it was truly eternal.
"I knew you were here." You whisper. Your voice is weak from just waking up, but a strong smile spreads across your face when your eyes slowly open and meet the white mane. You try to push yourself up out of bed using your arms, but your efforts are blocked by Satoru.
"Babyyy! Easy, easy." Your husband gestures with his hands, a gaze of relief on his face. You're really strong, huh? He is smiling like a little boy who just tasted his favorite mochi flavor, and you are certain you see stars twinkling in his eyes. "Gee, you're already eager to fly."
"Satoru, if you don't let me get out of this bed right now, I swear I don't know what I'll do."
"When in doubt, do nothing." He is clapping consistently to highlight the idea. "Settle that cute and pretty booty down right there, I've locked all the doors and you ain't leaving here. Now tell me how you're feeling, my lovely wife. That's all that matters to me."
"Argh." A small huff of air escapes your lips while you roll your eyes towards the ceiling, defeated enough. The man right next to you is playfully disapproving of your behavior. "I'm fine, 'Toru. You know that better than I do. My skin's just tingling from someone else's reverse technique." You report during the time you notice the scars that have formed on your arm after the outcome of the cursed method. A technique that you have the experience to perform on yourself. After all, you don't carry the title of special grade sorcerer for nothing.
"Nah, don't sweat it. I'm gonna take good care of you." There's an intense gaze that matches his words. The man emits a little chuckle as he realizes he managed to tease you with that.
"And where's 'Gumi?" You inquire, more to yourself than to Satoru. Your eyes are scanning the entire room in search of finding the black-haired teenage boy. You still ponder the king of curse's intentions towards Megumi, it consumes you and leaves you with a nagging feeling.
"You're more worried 'bout him than 'bout yourself, heh." The man raises his eyebrows, indignation stamped on them. A comical expression, almost too much. "You know that tough boy is independent, he's able to handle anything. Can you chill out for a minute, lady?" Satoru's smile broadens before he proceeds: "I took care of everything already, I told him to swing by here before heading to the dorm. Didn't go into the details, of course."
"He's probably gonna be surprised to find out we're here at Jujutsu High at this time of night... Guess I must have slept for a while, right?" You touch the skin of your husband as you place your hand on his face, and give a radiant smile as you realize that there is no invisible barrier holding you apart, even though he always deactivates it when he is with you. "Hey. Thank you for keeping things on the down low. And for everything you do for me."
"Awww! You're welcome, bae." Satoru copies the way you smile, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace. He puts his hand right on top of yours, the wedding rings on your fingers colliding with each other. "Ain't nobody care 'bout me like that. What did I do to not deserve it?"
"It's like I wouldn't be worried about you even if you could move mountains with just your own thoughts." You are rolling your eyes for the second time. Once you blink, he is staring at you with a stern and intimidating look.
"I'm the one here who got the most worried 'cause you got me feelin' this way. A guy like me shouldn't have these kinds of feelings." His voice is husky and his cold blue eyes unravel your soul, the temperature is freezing you. "Don't do that again, or I'll lose my mind and kill anyone around me." The way he adresses this, it is not a bluff. It seems like an objective he would fulfill, a mission that would not require anyone's authorization, not even the higher-ups of the Jujutsu society.
"Satoru..."
"You're trying to make me a widower, hah?" His voice becomes light again, genuine good humor returns. Now he has a broad smile on his face, the eyes are nearly closing due to that action. As if he hadn't announced something so violent just 10 seconds ago. "If I tally up how many folks got worried 'bout you, there won't be enough fingers on Sukuna's hand to count it."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You are making amends, and he cannot resist gazing at your lips without stealing a quick kiss. A man clingy to his wife. "I had just exorcised a special grade cursed spirit when I started feeling dizzy. My head began to spin."
Satoru reveals a pensive expression on the face, one hand resting on his chin. The most powerful sorcerer is contemplating all the possibilities to uncover the reason behind that eventuality concerning your cursed technique.
"So, I suppose that might have been the reason you didn't recover yourself at that moment, considering you experienced signs of fainting. Your brain became destabilized." He pronounces, cautiously, witnessing you confirm the information. "Were you feeling like that before you got the fight started?"
"When we split up to head towards the mission I was feeling fine." The corner of your mouth moves, you display your teeth to the man in an attempt to reassure him. Gosh, he is being so serious about that. "Maybe I used up too much of my energy, I guess I hit my limit. That's it."
"Hmm, there's something more. It's interesting and surprising how your energy flow is strongest now." The white-haired man is examining you with a curious look.
"Are you saying I'm accumulating this more than usual? Is that possible?"
"It's a fact. And I'm the one confirming it, little sweetheart." There is a smug smile playing on his lips. "But at least you're feeling better right now, yeah?"
"Hell yeah, I feel brand spanking new thanks to Shoko's skills!" You are shooting fire arrows with your eyes towards the bold man. "Can you stop staring at my tits now?"
"I'm just checking to make sure everything's really okay." He speaks with such honesty, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. Satoru cannot shake off the thought of how beautiful you look to him, a very sugary sweet and his favorite. You make him feel so mushy and nearly diabetic.
However, Gojo Satoru is a natural provocateur.
"You're getting on my nerves, 'Toru."
He opens his mouth to laugh out loud, giving you a wink. You also join in his laughter as he starts poking your body several times, this real jokerster tickling you. The antics are suddenly interrupted the moment someone knocks on the door. Shoko Ieiri appears seconds later behind it, revealing only the upper part of her body.
"Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." She smiles faintly, continuing: "I need a quick minute to talk to Satoru." The experienced doctor has a lit cigarette between her fingers, she is pointing it in your direction. You see its tip sparkling at you. "And you, go rest. Don't even think about escaping from that stretcher until we come back."
"You heard that, huh? This time it didn't come out of my mouth." Gojo has one finger pointed at the tongue he sticks out.
You gaze at them and fold your arms, simply accepting your fate.
"Alright. Goodbye." You are turning your back on them and burrowing into the blanket. "If possible, turn off the light before you guys leave."
"Going to sleep without giving me a kiss? That's not fair." Satoru is shocked enough, a pout forming on his lips and a puppy dog look in his eyes. He truly displays his emotions, reminding you of how every night Satoru Gojo questions that same thing after going to bed with you. Every night, the same thing.
"Okay, you two. I'll wait outside." The woman manages to capture the attention of both of you before the noise of her high heels against the floor fades away.
As soon as she departs, warm lips land on the side of your neck and journey up to your mouth. You need to raise your head to reach Satoru's lips, his skin burning against yours like a flame. The instant his hand wraps around the flesh of your waist and grips it tightly, you understand that he would never let you escape his grasp, or his domain expansion. He is kissing you as if he were thirsty and you were the water fountain, this man is showing you how much he requires you in his life. Preferably alive, of course. Otherwise, he will make sure of it for you.
"Hmmm, get outta here. I promise I'll make it up to you with a full kiss later." You moan at the touch, trying not to show that you're shivering just to not further inflate his already oversized ego. As if it were possible to be any bigger than usual.
"Oh, is that so? You know I'll hold you to that, babe." He growls near your ear.
At the moment the sorcerer is leaving the room, he halts on his path and gives you a long look with his blue eyes. Inside them, Satoru harbors concern.
"What's going on?"
"I'm feeling sorry for my friend." Ieiri ignores Satoru, making one's way to her desk. Instantly, a breeze from outside the window extinguishes the cigarette ember in her hand, smoke spreading throughout the room. "She is truly doomed to sacrifice her life, including putting up with your strong-willed nature for the rest of her life."
"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" Satoru wears a playful smile on his lips. He places his hands in his trouser pockets in a relaxed and unconcerned posture, anticipating a highly amusing joke.
"You have no idea what's happening, do you? And what's going to happen from now on." She sets aside the cigarette, burying it in the ashtray on the table. Gojo watches everything attentively before rolling his eyes, he's starting to get bored with all the fuss. "But I believe you may have already noticed that the train is off the rails."
The doctor is moving around the small armchair in the room. When Shoko sits down, she leans her back against the backrest and then crosses her legs, silently facing Satoru. The expression on the white-haired man's face is impassive. He wishes he had the ability to read minds.
"Y/N is pregnant, Satoru." The sound of Ieiri's sigh is loud. "She is carrying your child in her womb. It's extraordinary that the baby has survived."
Satoru Gojo's world crumbles once more, for the second time that day. Not only is his own world shaken, but also the entire Jujutsu society.
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kamogryadeshi · 9 months
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‼️Approximately 110 missiles were launched by Russia, most of them were shot down, - Zelenskyi
Maternity hospital, educational institutions, shopping center, high-rise buildings and private houses, commercial warehouse, parking lot. Kyiv, Lviv, Odesa, Dnipro, Kharkiv, Zaporizhzhia and our other cities.
Today, Russia was fighting with almost everything it has in its arsenal: "daggers" ("kyndzhaly"), S-300, cruise missiles, UAVs. Strategic bombers launched X-101/X-505. Approximately 110 missiles were fired, most of which were shot down.
Unfortunately, as a result of the shelling, there are dead and wounded.
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whitlovealways8 · 3 months
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Astro Observations Pt 4
I am not a professional astrologer but I have been studying for some years and have made some accurate world predictions; as well as, predictions for myself and loved ones.
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Aquarius suns are leaders. They tend to be the type that everyone wants to be friends with or be around.
Leo placements unaware of their own power can be envious towards others. However, when they know who they are they are unstoppable!
In terms of facial features and zodiac signs, the obvious ones to me are capricorns with a distinct head shape and cancers, they have rosy/high cheekbones to me.
Gemini suns are so humorous and witty! They are blunt however and people arent always use to that level of honesty.
Someone said people with Saturn ruled 3h like to curse 🤭 as a Scorpio rising I can agree. How about you Sag risings?
What is it with Aries and beign combative? I mentioned it in a previous post but honestly they think the worst of others without giving the benefit of the doubt. Scorpios are paranoid but Aries is a step up imo.
Taurus placements are fashionistas. They can dress so well and know how to coordinate. Would be great at being stylists for sure.
Capricorn dominant children are really hardworkers. They are willing to help around the house.
As someone with Chiron in the 11h, I do have a hard time finding my tribe. I have been wounded by friends a lot.
I have Mars at 29° Aries in my SR chart and it really has me wondering wtf will I be putting all my energy into to closing off or starting. Its in the 3h.
Cancer moon in SR chart means spending more time with your mom or a maternal figure and I can confirm. I have been spending much more time with my mom.
Aquarius female children tend to be outcasted in their childhood years by family. They also have like this cinderella energy of being the one who does a lot of the work around the house. Honorary mention Scorpio risings with their Aquarius 4h.
Virgo placements have a bit of a selfish trait.
Pisces rising folks are very ethereal, its not even in their looks alone. But just this feeling they give off. You want to be their friend.
I have a 5h stellium in my SR chart I will let you all know how it plays out 🤗 at the halfway point.
Thank you for reading & reblogging. You can follow me on twitter @whitlovealways8 and youtube @whitthamessenger
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Aim for the Sky Part 5 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is thankful every day of the year, but over Thanksgiving weekend, you and the Nugget give him even more than he anticipated. When he takes you back to the scene of the crime for your first wedding anniversary, he shares more of his notebook with you.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 5000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"Why is it so crowded?" you whined, pushing a shopping cart behind Bradley as he wound his way through Costco on Monday.
"Because everyone is doing the same thing we're doing," he said as he grabbed whichever turkey he could get his hands on. "Shopping for Thanksgiving dinner."
You were exhausted and tired of getting jostled around. You were getting close to the end of your second trimester, and you felt like you could curl up in the shopping cart and fall asleep. Today was also the first day of your annoying new routine of visiting the ladies' locker room after work to change out of your maternity tent. At least you got to talk to Phoenix for a few minutes. She even made a fuss over your belly and called you cute. But there was no way you were leaving base in your new uniform.
When you looked down at yourself in your stretchy tank top, even you could tell that your sore boobs looked bigger. You caught Bradley eyeing them up so frequently, it was almost comical. When you called him out on it, he would grunt some sort of response while his cheeks turned pink. And every time you let him take your bra off and do as he pleased, he was a rock hard, needy mess almost instantly. But he was also gentle and tentative, almost bringing you to orgasm with his mouth on your breasts alone.
You moaned softly, and he turned to look at you with wide, brown eyes. "Excuse me?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up. "You okay back there?"
"Yeah," you whispered breathlessly. "You know how much I love my Costco Daddy." Now you were thinking about the time you earned a spanking during one of your shopping trips, and you didn't know how you were going to make it home when your husband looked so fucking good in his uniform.
"What did you call me?" he asked playfully, his hands coming up to his narrow waist as you slumped against the cart and whined.
"Costco Daddy." This time you said it loud enough that a few people turned to see what you were talking about, but you didn't care. 
"I guess we should hurry up then," Bradley remarked casually, but that was pretty impossible to do when the store was as crowded as it was. You watched Bradley fight his way through the produce area so he could grab carrots and sweet potatoes, wearing a little smirk on his face the whole time. You tried to push him with the cart when he was taking too much time picking out a can of cranberry sauce, and he just chuckled but didn't budge at all.
"Roo," you whined softly.
"This is the last thing we need to get," he said, and then he made things even worse by standing behind you with his hands on your belly while you waited in line to pay.
His lips were soft on your ear and the side of your jaw as you gripped the shopping cart. His body was pressed against yours as he asked, "Is she moving around right now, Sweetheart?"
He'd been on a quest to feel the baby doing her somersaults, but he came up empty handed every time. "I think she's sleeping," you told him as his big palms moved around slowly. "You'll feel her soon. She loves it when you're around."
Bradley let his chin rest on your shoulder, and you were treated to his deep, needy sigh. You had no doubt where he was looking as the line started to move up and his thumbs grazed the undersides of your breasts. "As soon as we get home, your shirt is coming off."
"You're obsessed, Roo."
Even when it was your turn to pay, Bradley kept his eyes on you as he loaded up the cart again. The two of you walked to the far side of the parking lot where he insisted on leaving the new Bronco so it didn't get dinged up. Then he got you buckled in while he unloaded everything into the back, but you surprised him by climbing right onto his lap as soon as he was in the driver's seat.
He let his hands settle on your hips with a big smile on his face as you straddled his right thigh. "I don't know what you're planning on doing here, Baby Girl, but it's not quite dark out yet. Not that I mind. I know how much you like it in public."
But you started rubbing yourself against his leg, and he got quiet, his smile remaining intact. You tried your best to keep some space between his upper body and yours while you rubbed your pussy against your husband with two pairs of uniform pants between you. The friction was delicious, and Bradley leaned back in the seat with his hands still on your hips as you whispered, "I couldn't wait until we get home."
He helped guide you along as the rolling motion as you rode him brought you closer to where you needed to be. "I can wait until we get home," he rasped. "But when we do, I want you on your knees with those tits covered in my cum."
"Bradley!" you whined as his hands eased up your sides, grazing your breasts, goading you on faster.
"Take your time," he whispered, and you could feel how hard he was getting. But you didn't even need more time when he looked and smelled so damn good. Your hands settled on his insignia pins and name tag as you ground down harder and moaned his name.
He let you collapse against his body as you came, whining about how horny you were all the time right now until your orgasm started fading away. Then his hand slid down and squeezed your butt and he whispered, "Let's get home. Now."
Bradley helped you buckle in again, and then he took your hand in his as he started quickly driving home. When he needed both hands, he set yours down right on his hard length. You were still in a daze as you stroked him, working him up and making him throb. He grunted your first name which brought you back down enough to unzip his pants as he turned down the block toward the craftsman.
"You still want me on my knees?" you asked a little breathlessly as you got your hand around him, and Bradley's deep chuckle in response gave you goosebumps.
"There is only ever going to be one answer to that question, my love."
You were practically drooling at his words as he parked in the driveway and carefully withdrew your hand from inside the fly of his pants. Then he hopped out of the Bronco with his pants unzipped and his shirt an untucked mess before helping you carefully down onto the driveway. He gave you one of the sweetest kisses of your life which surprised you before he laced his fingers with yours and led you up the walkway at a leisurely pace. 
Once the front door was unlocked, he leaned in, kissed you one more time, his hard cock brushing your pregnant belly through his pants. "Yes, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I still want you on your knees."
You couldn't help but smile as you held his hand a little tighter, and he helped you get into position to give him exactly what he wanted. After he shut the door, you yanked your shirt and bra off and listened to him groan so loudly, Tramp briefly ran into the living room and back out again. After you got Bradley's pants and boxer briefs down around his boots, he lasted about thirty seconds between your lips before he was panting and stuttering.
"B-Baby Girl. Sweetheart." You let him jerk himself off, coating your chest in cum, just like he'd done in the garage last week. Just like he'd done in the shower two days ago. Then you let him play with it, making an even bigger mess before he helped you get cleaned up.
You had the distinct feeling that if you wanted anything in the whole world right now, all you'd need to do is ask him for it while topless, and it would be yours.
---------------------------
"I'm trying my best," Bradley growled. The turkey he randomly grabbed at Costco on Monday while you were a horny mess was huge, and it didn't really fit in your fancy baking dish thing.
"How am I supposed to stuff it?" you asked him, pouting in your sports bra, underwear, and I Love Meat apron. He was about an inch from telling you he didn't even care about the turkey and wanted to stuff you instead, but he knew you'd make a face at him since company was coming over. Not that he thought Jake Seresin counted as company. Now if your parents were here today, sure, he'd be on his best behavior. But Jake? Nope.
He shoved the turked into the baking dish and said, "That's as good as it's gonna get. Stuff it, and I'll lift it into the oven for you." 
He kissed your cheek and retreated to the bedroom where he wanted to go over his list one more time, just to make sure he knew what he had to do before Saturday. As he pulled the sheet of paper from his nightstand drawer, he sat on the edge of the bed. He had to find a way to sneak a cake into the house tomorrow and hide it from you. That was going to be challenging. There was also the matter of hiding all of the flowers if he decided to pick them up ahead of time.
"Shit," he muttered, remembering he needed to get the non-alcoholic champagne down from the torn apart attic sometime tomorrow. Maybe you wouldn't notice him messing around up there if he did it later when you were in the shower.
"Bradley!" you called out, your voice echoing down the short hallway. "Come here!"
He was on his feet instantly, heart pounding as he let the paper fall to the floor while he raced for you. "What happened?" he called out, panicking even more when he saw you doubled over as he reached the kitchen. "What happened?" He had his hands wrapped around your biceps, heart climbing up into his throat. You finally looked up at him as you gasped and started to untie your apron.
"She's moving so much right now," you told him, and it took him a second to realize you were smiling as the apron hit the floor. "Maybe you'll be able to feel her."
"Oh," he gasped, relief flooding his system even as he sank to his knees in front of you. When he placed his big hands on your belly and looked up at your perfect face, you slid his hands further to your right side. Bradley leaned in and kissed your wedding rings as you guided him along, and that's when he felt her.
"Holy shit!"
"Yeah?" you asked, voice laced with giddy excitement. "You felt the kick?"
"Yes," he whispered in amazement. Then she did it again, and he scooted himself a little closer, pressing his lips to the spot next to your belly button. "Hey, little Nugget." He was met with another thump that left him smiling. "I love you."
You laughed as you ran your fingers through his hair and let him rest his cheek against your soft, warm skin. "She's doing somersaults now," you told him, and he could feel something like a soft squirm against his hand. "She gets really excited when she hears you."
"Is that true?" he asked softly. "I get excited when I even think about you." He stayed there for a very long time, letting you adjust his hand placement over and over so he could feel her, and he never wanted to let go. He thought about taking you to bed so he could lay next to your belly, but he was afraid his daughter might get too cozy and settle in for a nap.
Bradley was running his nose along in a little pattern where the baby was kicking when you eventually removed your fingers from his hair and said, "I need to start peeling the potatoes."
"I can do that," Bradley replied, and he felt another hard thump. "You're right, Sweetheart. I swear she knows it's me," he whispered, looking up at you again.
"She absolutely does, Roo."
After that, he had his hands all over you. When you left the kitchen to finally get dressed, he went along, too. When you went back to the kitchen to check on the turkey, he stood behind you with one hand wrapped around you. If you found it annoying, you didn't say a word about it, thankfully. When Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived, Bradley had his arm slung over your shoulders as you walked to the front door.
"Is she moving around right now?" he asked softly.
You smiled up at him. "I think she's snoozing. I'll let you know when she's back at it again." Then you pulled the door open, and his peaceful little bubble felt like it had been burst as Jake walked in carrying several pies and some coleslaw.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Angel," the blonde said before kissing your cheek. Bradley rolled his eyes as Jake headed for the kitchen with a little grin on his face. A split second later, Cat came in, and then Bradley had his arms full of Jeremiah.
"He might need his diaper changed," Cat told him before she followed you to the kitchen as well. "Now let me finish cooking everything while you rest," she told you with a smile, and Bradley was happy someone who knew what they were doing was here to help you now. And he supposed that the next best thing after feeling his own baby kick was getting to hang out with Jeremiah. 
Jake was digging around in the refrigerator, and he pulled out two beers before nodding at Bradley. "Let's go see how the playset is looking, old man," he said, opening one of the cans and handing it to Bradley.
The playset was almost done, and Bradley would have probably worked on it a little bit more today, but he got so distracted following you around everywhere. "You know, I'm not that much older than you," he told Jake as he carted Jeremiah over to look at the slide.
But Jake didn't seem to be in a teasing mood any longer as he looked at Cat's son in Bradley's arms. "You know... you never really told me how you did it."
"Did what?" Bradley asked, watching two little hands reach out toward the can of beer before he touched the rope ladder instead.
"How you got Angel to marry you. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."
Bradley glanced back through the sliding glass door where you were sitting at the kitchen island while Cat started to boil the potatoes he'd peeled for you earlier. "You know, if you're going to be an asshole, you can just go home. I'll drive Cat and Jer back to Hondo's later."
"Shhh," Jake told him. "You can't say bad words in front of him. He's learning how to talk now."
"Sorry," Bradley whispered to the little boy who was all smiles. Then Jake's words really started to sink in as he studied Jeremiah's dark eyes and sipped his beer. "You want them to be your family."
Jake was pacing around the patio, rubbing his temple with his fingers. "Of course I do. But she won't go for it. Every time I bring it up, she has some sort of excuse. Last night, after I told her how much I love her, she tried to tell me that I'll grow tired of them and want my freedom."
"Damn," Bradley muttered. 
"What did I tell you about the bad words?" Jake snapped. 
"Sorry." Bradley watched him pace while he thought about how he proposed to you in a dirty storage unit surrounded by cardboard boxes and ugly antique furniture. "I don't know how I got her to marry me, Jake. All I know is as soon as I was holding the engagement ring, I needed it to be on her finger. Like suddenly there was no time to waste."
Bradley knew Jake would be a good dad. He obviously loved Jeremiah. But their conversation was cut short as you poked your head outside and said, "Roo? Will you come help me set the table?"
"I'm coming, Baby Girl."
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Thanksgiving dinner turned out fantastic with some help from Cat. You saw how comfortable the other woman looked in the kitchen, so you just sat down and let her work. And while everything was delicious, nobody batted an eyelash when you made yourself some carrot sticks to dip into hot sauce. And then you covered your turkey in hot sauce. And you dipped your stuffing in hot sauce.
You were helping Bradley clean up before dessert when you said, "Oh! She's kicking again!"
He basically tossed everything into the sink and came running for you with wide eyes. "Where is she?" he asked softly, and you placed his hands for him. A second later, after you kissed the few silver hairs at his temple, he turned his head to smile at you while he said, "There she is."
"I want to feel the baby," Jake said, as he carried more dishes into the kitchen. The way Bradley pulled you in a little closer to him was almost comical; it wasn't like Jake of all people was going to hurt you.
"Just one little kick," Bradley insisted, and you reached out for Jake's hand. But as soon as he was touching you, the baby stopped her round of somersaults.
"I don't feel anything," Jake drawled, moving his hand slightly.
You shrugged and said, "She really seems to like Bradley's voice the most."
You watched your husband absolutely strut back into the dining room with a pie in each hand after that. And he was still grinning as he ate three slices. Even after your company left for the night with containers of leftovers, he looked smug. As soon as he got you snuggled up in bed, he propped his head on his elbow next to your belly and whispered, "You like Daddy's voice the most, huh?"
She seemed to respond by squirming a little bit, and you had to roll your eyes. "Of course she does. So do I."
He smiled up at you before kissing your belly and pulling your shirt down. "I'm going to try to finish the Nugget playset tomorrow, and then Saturday is my favorite day of the year."
"Our anniversary," you whispered with a yawn.
"The first of hopefully a hundred."
You were sound asleep before you could respond. Most of Friday was spent feeding Bradley little snacks while he worked in the yard and shopping online for nursery decor.
"Oh, this looks really cute," you said with a smile as you held up your phone. He came running over to see what you found, only to be annoyed by the U.S. Army themed baby bedding. "It was a joke!" you insisted before switching tabs to the one you actually liked. "This one is not a joke."
Bradley's face lit up as he looked at the pastel airplanes and soft blue and white clouds. "That's perfect," he whispered. "Just what our little girl needs."
"It's kind of expensive."
He just shook his head as he continued to look at your phone screen. "The Nugget wants it."
You were afraid that was going to become his new mantra. The baby had a full nursery worth of items purchased by the end of the day. But Saturday was a different story. When you woke up late and stretched, you realized you were in your bed alone. On your anniversary. Upon further inspection, you realized Bradley wasn't even home at all.
"What the fuck," you muttered to yourself as you stood in the kitchen. Your intention had been to make him stuffed French toast and coffee. You were even going to arrange some fruit in the shape of a heart on the plate, but now that he wasn't here, your idea just felt stupid. You got the fruit out anyway and dipped it in hot sauce for yourself instead, and after polishing off almost an entire carton of raspberries, you heard Tramp run for the front door.
Bradley rushed in wearing snug jeans and one of his tropical print shirts. His aviators were perched low on his nose, and he was holding a bouquet of yellow roses with a smile on his face. You were still wearing his ratty, old shirt, and you didn't even wash your face yet, but he took you gently in his arms and kissed you like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.
"Happy anniversary, Baby Girl," he muttered against your lips. His body was warm from the sun, and he smelled fresh and delicious, and you melted into his arms. 
"Where were you? I was going to make you breakfast. Well, lunch I guess at this point."
Bradley cupped your cheek gently in his hand and said, "I had to get a few things ready for this afternoon."
"Right," you said, perking up a bit. "You said we're going back to the scene of the crime."
"We sure are," he confirmed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "And I just want everything to be perfect for my girls."
You moaned softly. It was actually impossible to be annoyed with him when he was so sincere with pink tinted cheeks and flowers in his hand. "I'll make you some French toast," you whispered, and of course you ended up arranging the fruit into a heart. And of course you sat on his lap while he devoured two servings of the meal you made for him. 
"When are we going to the crime scene?" you asked as you brushed his hair back from his forehead.
He rubbed your belly and checked the time. "We can leave pretty soon. Go for a drive maybe? Then I'll surprise you with how romantic I am."
You kissed his nose and said, "I'm not even sure exactly what the scene of the crime is. That could be a lot of different places actually. Maybe the parking garage at the airport?" you asked with a raised eyebrow. "Or my old apartment?"
Bradley shook his head. "I don't think I could get Maria and Bob to stop fucking long enough for us to stop by there." You burst into laughter as he added, "But you'll find out shortly."
You let him keep his secrets as you finally got yourself ready to go out. You managed to squeeze into one of your sundresses, but you paired it with a zip up sweatshirt just in case it got chilly later on. When Bradley helped you into the blue Bronco and buckled you in, you asked, "Why does it smell so good in here?" The backseat and tailgate areas were covered with sheets and blankets so you couldn't even see anything, but it smelled sweet and flowery. 
"Don't worry about that yet," he rasped with a satisfied little smile on his face. "Just let me show my wife how much I love her." 
When he started the engine, he had already queued up the enormously long playlist of songs that reminded him of you, and you got to listen to him singing softly as he drove up the coast a little ways while the sun dipped lower in the sky. It was the perfect November day with a few clouds and warm air, and you held his hand while he started to head south again just as your stomach growled between songs. 
"You're hungry," he remarked, and you started hoping he had something planned involving food. "I made dinner, and we'll be there soon."
"You made dinner?" you asked, panic lacing your voice. "What did you make? Is everything okay?"
Bradley started laughing as he turned left. "Okay, made is a strong word. It didn't involve actually cooking anything, I'm sorry to say. But I wanted it to be edible for you."
You sighed and eased back in your seat, and that's when you realized where you were and what he had planned. "Roo," you whispered as the parking lot came into view. There were some orange cones lined up at both entrances, and when he pulled up and hopped out to move them, you read the permit attached to one of them.
SPECIAL PRIVATE EVENT
CITY OF SAN DIEGO
NOVEMBER 28
Then he hopped back in, pulled into the narrow parking lot that overlooked the cliffs beach, and he backed into a parking spot. He looked at you as he shifted into park and said, "The scene of the crime, Baby Girl. You stole my fucking heart."
You loved him so much, it was hard to put into words. "I wonder how many times I've kissed you since then," you whispered as you crawled toward him. "Since the first one, right here in this parking spot."
"Millions, probably. Could use a few more though." He was grinning as he patted his lap, and you were there in an instant. "Happy anniversary."
His words were muffled by your lips, and even with your growing belly, you seemed to fit perfectly against him. Bradley's big hand ran up your thigh and underneath your little dress, fingers stroking your skin with reverence as he parted your lips with his and tasted your tongue.
"I love you, Bradley."
The loud growl of your stomach left him laughing even as his hand made its way up to the lace trim of your underwear. He patted you on the butt and popped his door open. "Let me feed you and the Nugget dinner."
You eased yourself down onto the pavement, and Bradley followed you. When he opened the back door and pulled the blanket off the seat, you found a picnic basket, a cooler and a bakery box. When he dropped the tailgate and helped you climb in so you were overlooking the ocean, he pulled a sheet away to reveal probably hundreds of colorful roses, but most of them were yellow.
Tears filled your eyes as he ran around and unpacked dinner which consisted of carrot sticks, hot sauce, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "I made your sandwich to your exact preference," he promised, also procuring a bottle of non-alcoholic pink champagne from the cooler. "And this is even safe for the Nugget."
You tried not to cry as you sat amongst the sweet smelling flowers with your sandwich in your hand and music playing softly. Bradley hopped in as well, and you felt the Bronco dip slightly as he settled in next to you with his own sandwich. He kissed your cheek just as the sun hit the horizon. You turned so your lips met his briefly before you said, "I'm obsessed with you."
"I'm obsessed with both of you."
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The sun had set, and you were laying with your head in Bradley's lap, skimming the Nugget notebook which he'd brought along for a very specific reason. You read some of his musings out loud, often laughing at what he had written in there. He let his fingers drift along your belly while My Girl played from the front seat speakers, and he hummed along, occasionally pausing to feel his daughter kick.
Eventually his hand was under the fabric of your dress again, skimming along your embroidered Mrs. Bradshaw underwear, making you gasp softly before continuing up to your belly. You and he were alone in this parking lot where you got married, which was already pretty secluded on a regular day, but the permit ensured he could touch his wife like this to his heart's content.
The soft purple sky was pretty, but it had nothing on you as you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You wrote down some baby names," you sighed softly.
"I did." This was the reason he brought the notebook along. This was something he wanted to talk about when there were no other distractions except for him and you. "What do you think of them?" he asked, heart beating a little faster as he thought about his unborn child.
You read each of the girls' names softly out loud, and of course he still liked all of them, but when you got to his favorite, you read it and paused. "Rose." Bradley nodded, and you smiled, reaching to run your fingers along the plethora of soft petals that filled the back of the Bronco. "I think you like that one the most."
Bradley swallowed hard, holding his hand in place with his palm covering your belly button. "Rose Bradshaw. Yeah, that's my favorite one."
"I like it, too," you whispered, biting your lip with your eyes closed as you set the notebook aside.
"Yeah? You do?" he asked hopefully. "Because it makes me think about how we listened to the song together. Roses. Before you fell in love with me."
You started to sit up, and he helped you. "I remember. You played it for me on the piano," you told him with a smile. "That was the night at the Hard Deck when I scared the other girls away from you, because I was so jealous. I wanted you all to myself."
Bradley's heart felt lighter than air as he collected you in his arms. "I was already falling in love with you," he promised. "You just took a little more coaxing."
As your lips ghosted over his, you whispered, "Rose. Rosie. Yeah. I love it."
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Okay, so that's a throwback. I love little Easter eggs and throwbacks! The Nugget has a name! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 6
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bts5sosempire · 6 months
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A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻
Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).
"Simon, just give it some time."
The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.
"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."
.
The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.
But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."
Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.
But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.
"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."
His heart warms at that.
.
It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.
Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.
With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.
It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.
You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:
"I told you so; enjoy it."
With a smile.
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maternity-morningstar · 2 months
Note
Lucifer do you know about Alastors wound from Adam? I have a feeling he hasn't been taking good care of it...
Lucifer: *surprised* What? He has a wound?
Husk: He…does. He keeps it bandaged and stitching, but it won’t heal.
Lucifer: How do you know?
Husk: I work for him, I know this sorta thing.
Lucifer: Well, I can help him! I can heal him!
Husk: If you want to try you can, but —
Lucifer: *gets out of the bathtub* WE NEED TO HEAL ALASTOR!
Husk: Might wanna put on some clothes unless you wanna catch a cold.
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ozzgin · 1 year
Note
Hi, first i wanted to thank you for doing my first request, it's amazing 😍. Since you did it so fast i wanted to ask for something else.
Could you do something with a Prehistoric reader. She's from the Jurassic like Pickle, she was frozen and brought back to life like him. However she's less agressive and a bit smarter than him. I kinda saw her like a big ( dangerous ) mama Bear, who likes those tiny humans.
I trust you for the rest, you can choose if you want to write about first meeting with fighters (which i find funny in the anime by the way ), how she was during Pickle's fight or what's her interactions with the fighters ...
Thank you for reading this , bye.
I’m so glad you enjoyed it! The speed may vary depending on how easily I can visualize the prompt, since I need a solid movie in my head before putting it into words. Not very efficient but so far it’s been working haha. :’)
Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader
Featuring Pickle’s challengers: Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Jack Hanma and Baki Hanma.
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Backstory
A million thoughts raced the scientists’ minds upon discovering not just one, but two subjects perfectly maintained within the saline block. Were you partners? Would it be possible or expected that you continue your ancient lineage? While the idea was incredibly tempting from a researcher’s perspective, it was equally dangerous. They considered separating the two of you in order to avoid the risk, but they soon discovered that your help was needed to protect everyone else from the enraged prehistoric man.
The female specimen seemed to have a much more docile and cooperative temperament, with strong maternal instincts. Could it be that she viewed the much smaller modern humans as children? (Y/N) wasn’t that dumb. She could very well tell that these new forms of her own image are matured, but she could also easily asses how fragile they are based on their extreme fear and helplessness against Pickle. They haven’t showed any intent to attack her or Pickle, so she had no reason to be hostile. Pickle was rather frustrated by her frequent scolding, but his expressions seemed to indicate that (Y/N) always had a kind heart towards weaker creatures and it wasn’t his first time having to satisfy her pity. He begrudgingly accepted it.
The Meeting
Truth be told, most of the men had gathered in order to measure up Pickle’s strength. And he was eager to prove it after his quick encounter with Yuujirou’s mysterious techniques. It was only when you stood up and let out a warning growl that they realized the faint beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. Pickle had immediately cleared the way and even the Ogre himself grounded his stance, ready for anything. What a majestic creature, they all thought. Feminine beauty carefully chiseled into a powerful physique, adorned with muscles that would put any bodybuilder today to shame. The same arms that lovingly cradle infants with motherly devotion could easily crush bones and twist frail bodies.
The smell of fear lingered for aggravatingly long moments. You gently placed your large hand on Yuujirou’s shoulder and used the other one to point behind him. Only then did they notice the bright helicopter lights and pleading voices asking them to evacuate. You were looking out for them.
Kaiou Retsu
He’d love to challenge you. Truly. But not only are you a woman, you’ve also never shown Pickle’s excitement for battle. He respects your decision and would never impose his wishes on you.
After his fight with Pickle, he wakes up intact and notices you standing over his wounded body. A miserable smile spreads over his face as the realization hits him: you just don’t want to harm them. That’s why you never fight.
He’s not sure what hurts most. The damage Pickle has done, or his ego after realizing that all you have for them is pity. He’s going to need to find other ways to impress you.
Retsu later catches you trying to reproduce some of his moves and wonders if he’d be allowed to teach you martial arts. Or would that make you too dangerous?
Katsumi Orochi
Unlike Retsu, the damage he’s done to his arm couldn’t be prevented. You allow Pickle to remove the limb given the extensive injury.
Like a father that just played too hard with his children, Pickle follows you around apologetically, as if explaining he had no fault in this.
Katsumi is a little shocked to find you in his hospital room. Embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state by someone like you, he waves his arm frantically and rattles the sheets, mumbling explanations and reassurances. You just stare in confusion. He forgot you can’t understand language.
You wonder if he can survive with one missing limb, as back in your day this handicap could’ve proven fatal in the long run. Should you provide the food for him? The hospital staff entrusts you to deliver Katsumi his meals after they noticed you hunting in the guest garden.
You insist on helping with grooming duties like hair brushing, though Katsumi had to thoroughly gesticulate he’s not as open to being naked in front of you. Please don’t assist him when he’s changing his clothes. Let him have the last remaining bit of manliness.
Jack Hanma
How stubborn! Jack is the first one to feel your mama bear anger. After the fight with Pickle he kept coming back for more, despite being barely conscious. Pickle was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting you and would throw you worried looks, unsure how to proceed. Eventually you put Jack in a headlock and dragged him back to the hospital yourself.
The next time Jack wakes up, he notices you standing in the door frame, arms folded and flexed in a threatening manner. He can’t help but chuckle at the view. To think that a woman would have such an iron grip on him. Well, you’re no ordinary woman.
As before, you’re unsure of his recovering abilities. You attempt to feed him yourself several times and Jack has to politely suggest that he’s not as frail as you might think. Though somewhere deep down he might secretly enjoy being spoiled like this. He’d never, ever admit it.
Baki Hanma
Baki took you through a rollercoaster of emotions; from being worried that such a tiny, young boy insists on challenging the prehistoric man to squealing in shock at his unexpected strength. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to defeat him if you were standing there instead of Pickle.
Unlike the others, Baki has no issue relying on you. In fact, he’s almost shameless about it. Absolutely he is too injured to walk! You can go ahead and carry him. He’ll quickly wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you, grinning.
I think he’d really love the idea that someone as strong as you is also kind and likable. He doesn’t have to worry about proving himself or that you’d look down on him. He’s really craving this newly fond protectiveness of a mother.
He likes teasing Pickle by holding onto you whenever he sees you. The Jurassic man has been on the edge ever since you’ve started becoming attached to these tiny humans. He almost can’t get a moment alone with you. Which makes him extra irritable. You sigh at the two menaces that find new ways to mess with you.
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determinate-negation · 10 months
Text
It was the first of at least four strikes involving multiple munitions on different sections of the sprawling complex between 1 a.m. and 10 a.m. Friday morning. Al-Shifa’s director, Dr. Mohammed Abu Salmiya, said in a phone interview that seven people had been killed and several others had been wounded.
Hours after the final blast, the Israeli military blamed unspecified Palestinian militants, saying a “misfired projectile” aimed at Israel Defense Forces troops deployed nearby had instead hit the hospital.
But at least three of the projectiles that struck it appear to have been Israeli munitions, according to pictures of weapons fragments collected and verified by The New York Times and analyzed by experts.
The strikes did not cause mass casualties, but Israel is under increasing international pressure to avoid targeting hospitals. Al-Shifa has emerged as a particular flashpoint: Israel contends it has evidence that the hospital sits on top of an underground Hamas command center and has been warning those still inside to evacuate, even as its troops have been actively working to surround the facility. Hospital officials deny Hamas operates there and have said patients are dying for lack of food, fuel and other supplies.
Israel’s assertion that Al-Shifa was actually hit by a Palestinian projectile echoed similar — and unresolved — claims and counterclaims following munitions that hit the courtyard of another Gaza hospital, Al-Ahli, nearly a month ago.
The evidence reviewed by The Times from Al-Shifa points more directly to strikes by Israel — whether on purpose or by accident is unclear.
In addition to the weapons remnants, an analysis of video footage shows that three of the projectiles were fired into the hospital from the north and south, contrary to the western trajectory indicated on a map released by the I.D.F., which it said was based on radar detections. A review of satellite images showed there were I.D.F. positions north and south of the hospital early Friday.
The strikes analyzed by The Times did not appear to be targeting underground infrastructure. Two of the most severe strikes hit upper floors of the maternity ward.
The I.D.F. declined to comment on the evidence presented by The Times. It said that Israeli forces had been engaged in an intense battle against Hamas and that because of the “specific military activity currently underway, we are unable to address or confirm specific queries.”
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chronically-ghosted · 6 months
Text
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fade into you
rating: Explicit (18+)
pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader
word count: 4K
summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 
warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter
a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!
🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist
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I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you
“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 
You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.
You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.
Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 
You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 
He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 
“Baby, look at –,” 
“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 
When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 
You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 
Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 
His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 
With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.
“Baby . . .”
You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.
“Mama?” 
Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.
Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.
“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.
“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 
You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 
“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 
“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 
“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”
“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”
“Talk? Mama talk?” 
He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.
“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”
He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 
“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”
Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 
“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 
“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.
“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.
“See, we’re all okay.” 
Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 
“Ew.”
A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 
“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”
“Dieter!” 
He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”
Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”
You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”
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The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 
“She’s out?” 
“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”
“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 
Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”
Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 
“Dieter?”
“Yes, O Love of My Life?”
“Your shirt is inside out.”
The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.
“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 
“Mhm hm.”
His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 
“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 
“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 
You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”
His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.
“B-baby, your back –,”
“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 
He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 
“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”
Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 
“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 
With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”
An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”
“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”
You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.
“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 
You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 
“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”
Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 
“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.
When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 
Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 
“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 
“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 
He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”
He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”
“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 
With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 
“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?
“How do you need it, baby?”
The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 
“On my side, but between my thighs?” 
His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 
“Please.” 
He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –
He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 
When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.
“I love you.” 
That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.
“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 
The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 
“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”
“Dieter, please.”
He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 
A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 
“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”
Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 
“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 
You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 
“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”
A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 
He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”
“Just put your hand –,”
You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 
“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 
Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.
Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.
You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 
“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 
Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.
“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 
“I meant what I said, you know that right?”
Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 
“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”
You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.
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Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.
“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”
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Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 
A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 
+
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ukiyowi · 11 months
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𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈
Note: These are my observations if it doesn't resonate scroll xx
Masterlist || Tip 🍯
𐂲 I've recently noticed, whatever sign your mars is in and whichever body part that sign rules, can often result in getting accidentally hurt or random in that part. (Example, Mars in gemini = getting hurt on arms/hands, in Capricorn = scalp/knees/teeth, in Aries = head/sometimes cheekbones, etc)
𐂲 One thing I've noticed about Virgo risings is how much they underestimate themselves, they also usually have trouble with anxiety and overthinking
𐂲 Mystic rectangles give a lot of balance to a person but it can also come with multiple internal hardships and conflicts (in forms of insomnia or mental illnesses) and they often need external help to reach their full potential
𐂲 Pluto - Neptune hard aspects especially squares bring into consideration the back and forth between transformation versus illusion, what I mean by that is they have trouble distinguishing patterns in their cycles and may think they're imagining changes rather than believing that it's real (I hope this makes sense I've been trying to word it for the past 5 mins)
𐂲 I know we talk a lot about Leo Risings having great hair but imo Pisces rising have such luscious hair, like they have sm volume and shine to them?? They also look like a waterfall, just flowing, it's so pretty <//3
𐂲 Saturn in 4th/5th/11th house can overshare on the internet about everything going on with their lives
𐂲 Pluto in 6th house feel powerful only when they're working, so they never stop and even when they feel burnt out, they feel their sense of self and self worth is only tied to what they can give, therefore they may face guilt when they try to rest.
𐂲 This is simply a personal observation/theory but I have noticed that people who have a lot of degrees that are higher in number like 20+ often feel more comfortable with people older than them especially if those degrees sit in Pluto or Saturn
𐂲 I've noticed Aries mercuries also have very heavy footsteps, you can hear the thump 😭
𐂲 12th house Pluto are their own best friend and worst enemy, they may enable bad habits for others and justify the same for themselves, HOWEVER once the natives know how to harness the power of Pluto and understand it better, they can be really influential because a lot of people may be subconsciously attracted to the power they possess.
𐂲 Can we talk about Leo risings and how good their self concept is? Like... Please teach me tysm
𐂲 LIBRA PLACEMENTS IN GENERAL HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME WITH HEALTHY BOUNDARIES I'LL CRY- I have a friend with Libra venus and she can never say no to someone especially if she starts liking them :// and it's so hard to see ppl just take advantage of her, I also have friends and relatives with Libra in the big 3 and not only are they complete givers, they also have such a hard time taking, they feel guilty.
✓✓✓ Going to be mean to some of my placements/aspects now
𐂲 Venus conjunct Mars are so fucking clingy but ALSO so flighty🤨🤨choose ??? Do you want to be in this relationship (platonic/romantic) or do you not, stop being so hot and cold (it may help if I tell you both of these are in gemini for me)
𐂲 Chiron - moon placements have mommy issues or wounds related to their mothers/maternal figures in their lives
𐂲 Jupiter virgos can be such doormats at times, just because you want to help people doesn't mean you keep emptying your cup to fill others'.
𐂲 Mercury in 1st have their self worth TIED to their intelligence, like stop flaunting your knowledge, low-key looks insecure.
𐂲 Jupiter opposition Uranus has such rebel without a cause energy, what are you going to "rebel" against now, please sit down for a second
𐂲 Mars Square Ascendant, people with this aspect are always ready to fight, feel like everything is a personal attack, and are terrible at being alone
✓✓✓ Back to your regularly scheduled programme
𐂲 Something I've wanted to say to each stellium I've met so far:
𐂲 Aries: You have a lot of life in you, hand some over🤲🤲🤲, seriously though you guys look at everything with such wonder and curiosity, you're also kinda impatient but that's fine with me :")
𐂲 Sagittarius: You're so cool, I want to be like you, introspective, self aware, your humour is a little concerning at times but you teach me so much all the time, you're the guide I've always wished for
𐂲 Leo: You're a born entertainer and at times I can be a bit envious because of how bright you shine, leaving me in the shadows, but I love you and your love for life regardless, you're a star
𐂲 Gemini: You are so stealthy in everything you do, sometimes you slip through the cracks, a trickster (affectionate), I love how you can be mischievous one second and completely serious the next
𐂲 2nd house: You're just so understanding and make me feel like home, it's like you are home personified, very warm and comforting, also so abundant in everything it's crazy
𐂲 8th house: Stop making me talk about my feelings I'll cry >:(( no but seriously, you guys have something about you that just makes people face what they're avoiding, and you are so good at empathising with them.
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pastel-greene · 1 month
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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
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Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?
Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones
Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader
Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as story progresses
Word count: 1.4k
This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)
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The battlefield roars around her as she lets out a feral laugh. The scent of blood bathes her skin as enemies around her burst at their seams as if allergic to their own viscera. Her power curls around her in dark tendrils, shadowy mist traveling from her feet and from it monstrosities spawn. From her being they are born, from her existence cursed energy sprawls damning the world. Humans and socerers alike flood to exterminate her like the blight she is, but their hatred and fear only makes her stronger. Their infected emotions only allow her entry into their minds, allow her new hosts for her children. With each minute, more and more of them succumb to the sickness and from their corpses new curses rise and fight. She is the unending threat, the undying plague, the Mother of Curses.
This was her life for an uncountable number of millenia for her existence started with the creation of light, for light could not exist with darkness. A life full of death, misery, and sadistic pleasure. That was until, she fell in love with a human. Not in a romantic sense, but in a maternal sense. It happened after a particularly interesting battle with a man donning white hair and crystal blue eyes. His technique and mastery over cursed energy was a sight she never expected. It left her more wounded than she had ever been. Of course, she wouldn’t die from it, but it still hurt like hell. So she found herself stumbling across the snowy expanse and upon a run down hut. It was warm and smelled of a hearty soup begging to calm her ailments. She approached the hut with little trepidation and swung the door open ready to evict whoever was inside, but she didn’t see anyone. She stepped further in and looked around but the place was empty. A trap perhaps? She thought. But where is the trapper? Is the food meant to lure victims in only to poison them? She again stepped further into the abode, further towards the food, but she sensed a presence. It seemed to lurch from nowhere straight towards her. She turned quicker than the being could register and grabbed them by the collar of their shirt and held them up.
“Let me go you you thieving piece of shit before I strangle you with your own damn innards, add you to the fucking stew, and drink it through your hollowed out eye sockets!”
….before you what? The mother of curses had never heard such a threat to her. Never heard something as unhinged and quite frankly gross as that, especially from what seemed to be a child. Yes, a child it was, one with white hair and eyes to match.
”What are you fucking deaf? Unhand me and get the fuck out!”
The Mother of Curses started laughing as she moved her hand to grab the child by the jaw, her shadows unarming the girl of the knife she thrashed throughout the air. Defiance sat on the child's face as she spat right on the Mother. Ohhh you are so fucking close to dying. You think being made into stew is bad? Just you fucking wait. I will show you the true reaches of pain. Up came the Mother’s free hand to wipe the spit off of her face before using the girl’s hair to dry it off. Then went her finger into the girl’s skull. A strangled scream ripped from her and she writhed in plea of escape.
Within her mind was vile. Her memories were dark scapes filled with throat wrenching smells and unknown touches. Her fear of being touched without being able to see stained each and every rotten corner of her mind. But as the Mother dug deeper, she could make out silhouettes, each with a different feeling. The child had learned to feel people’s energy and had used that to navigate.
That must be how she sensed me coming. And knowing she can sense other’s energies means that she can probably sense her own. Which would explain why I didn’t sense her at first because she has most likely learned to mute her presence altogether. Cheeky little assassin, yeah?
In her memories the Mother feels and smells a very familiar substance—blood. She pulls herself towards the memory drenched in it. A memory of the girl’s first kill. It starts with screams and sobs overpowered by hungry laughs and hands. It wasn’t the first time the girl had been in this predicament, but this time is what changed her. Something in her snapped and all of the beauty made by the Mother herself started pouring into the girl. Strength she hadn’t known before surged through her body and before she knew it her hands were slicing through people like butter. Now it was her hungry laugh drowning out their screams and sobs. Some pleaded which only earned them an audience with her teeth as a wicked smile pulled back her lips to introduce them. Into flesh they sank, blood pouring down her face and throat and dousing the room as she ripped back. A feral beast finally liberated from its cage.
The Mother had originally intended to pump her with cursed energy until she popped, but another idea came into her head. She decided to add onto the cursed energy the girl already possessed but not to kill her. To enhance her. To make her a spawn of the Mother of curses in human form. Her proven survival instinct and bloodlust were promising aspects for a spawn and her cooking smelled decent enough that she could at least cook for her if nothing else. The girl’s writhing calmed down as she felt the power flowing into her. Everything felt as if it was exploding inside her as her very makeup was being altered. Her bones grew denser, her blood grew richer, her muscles grew stronger, her hair grew darker until only a section of the light remained, and within her eyes bloomed irises of blood.
The Mother withdrew her finger and released the girl to collapse on the floor as she headed towards a pile of blankets in the corner. Her state haggard after parting with energy after being in such a state already. The girl sat there on her knees looking at her hands.
”You are going to overcook the soup. Hurry and serve it already,” she said whilst stretching out her legs under the small covers.
The girl looked back towards her, finally seeing the mask that hid the bone chilling aura she felt. She stared for a long minute before getting up and pouring the woman a bowl of her soup. She continued to stare at many things as she ate, things she had never seen before. It was beautiful. She would have cried if her intruder was not still present.
From that day on, the Mother stayed in that little run down abode with the girl. Teaching her how to use her new body, showing her the secrets to her ever growing powers. It was something the Mother never saw herself doing, but an experiment that had her shaking with anticipation. She had started to consider what it would be like to withdraw to her domain and leave her spawn behind to rule. She wanted to see the chaos that would ensue without her, wanted to see what curses would be born from a human with her powers. Someone with a different mind, someone hardwired differently. She knew her curses would always be stronger, but would hers be more adaptable? The Mother knew nature would create stronger sorcerers like that white haired prick, so she knew curses would need to evolve as well. They needed to possess intelligence as well as strength, needed to be able to amass followings behind them.
For this to happen, the Mother kicked the girl out of her own house 10 years after their meeting and out into the world on her 18th birthday. Most children would have screamed and cried, but she was excited. She knew from the past how to get by and figured if she could do it blind and basically powerless, that it would be exponentially easier now. She bowed to her Mother as they laid their hands on her.
“Show me you are worthy of my blessings. Make the heaven’s weep at your monstrosities and the realm beg for your pardon. Make me proud or take this dagger and bury it in your heart,” the Mother said with her usual smile as she unveiled her final present to the girl. The girl looked at the gift in awe as she took it into her hands.
“Don’t worry Mother, I will make you prouder than you can ever imagine.”
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Notes: ahh hehe my writing is so rusty but I am really excited to write this idea. Updates should be (relatively?) frequent and I am determined to finish it lol. The following chapters will be told in first-person with (Y/N) tags. Canon in this story is that the reader has mostly black hair with only a small white section left and their irises are blood red. Going forward though I will use (h/c) and (e/c) so that it can suite whatever you want for your reading purposes. I hope you all have a wonderful day, see you in the next one muahhh~
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austinbutlerslovers · 6 months
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Feyd Fantasy Series Recap
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🔗 Full Feyd Fantasy Series Links Here
Part 7 Honor & Heir Finale This Weekend 🙏🏻
⬇️All Six Chapters Recapped Below⬇️
‼️Extreme Plot Spoilers Beware ‼️
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🔗 Part 1 Pleasure& Pain
You are a young Bene Gessirit in training sent to marry Feyd Rautha and harvest his sperm to create a Kwisatz Haderach (super human with the ability to see through time) via your impregnation.
After a fellow Bene Gesserit defied the order and birthed a male instead of a female in the house of Atreides it leaves Feyd Rautha without the genetically comparable mate to create the Kwisatz Haderach. They will try again with the child you create with Feyd.
Feyd is unaware of the Bene Gesserit under plot. He is power hungry and obsessive only seeking to be Baron with a Baroness and an heir. When you are betrothed to him he has no interest until he sees how high born and beautiful you are in person.
The courtship was hastened due to his risk of death in his upcoming fight in the gladiatorial arena. If he were slain centuries of breeding to create him would be lost.
Meeting for the first time on your rushed wedding day Feyd plans to make you another subservient (but most beautiful) pet-pleasure slave that belongs to him.
Feyd Rautha though handsome and charismatic is sadistic and cruel. He tortures you mercilessly on your wedding night due to the lecherous upbringing of his uncle. He does as he has been ingrained to do from adolescence be a ruthless fighter and sexual deviant.
You however in the midst of his cruelty show kindness and affection as he tortures you softening his resolve. You offer yourself to him willingly and he impregnates you as gently as he knows how (brutally). You show him affection and kindness which he has never experienced from a female. That with your inherent sexual abilities make him become obsessed with you.
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🔗 Part 2 Baroness & Breeder
Your affections and loving council change Feyd’s demeanor enraging his uncle who has raised him to be merciless and cruel from birth. His uncle separates you from him for weeks planning to breifly reunite you both at Feyd’s birthday celebration for appearances before getting rid of you entirely .
Feyd’s obsessive attachment to you makes him set forth plans to end his uncles life in order to be with you forever. You give Feyd what he needs the most good council and endless love. He craves your sexual intimacy even when you are sleeping and finds a way to pleasure you even when separated from physically being with you.
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🔗 Part 3 Kill or Be Killed
Feyd fights in the gladiator arena and empresses the Emperor who deems him the worthy future Baron of Giedi Prime. At his birthday celebration Feyd lays eyes on you for the first time in weeks and realizes he must have you as his Baroness and murder his uncle who keeps you from him.
He discreetly poisons two of his uncles pleasure slaves with a slow acting transferable toxin and then celebrates his birthday with you in seclusion. First you playfully torture him in his bedchambers with sex then he whisks you to the pools of purity to claim you again. He realizes his connection is becoming more than physical. Your heart unsuspectingly opens and you begin falling in love with him. His uncle dies in the early hours of the morning due to the poison and all gather in the former leader Vladimir Harkonnens chambers to hail Feyd Rautha as the new Baron of Giedi Prime
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🔗 Part 4 Madness & Mayhem
Feyd Rautha has deep rooted secrets about his family that he doesn’t want anyone to know, especially you. One of them being that his mother a Bene Gessirit, who emotionally neglected him from birth was killed by one of her own sons.
Feyd forms a strange attachment to your kindness and care mixing a taboo desire with the ways a female should care for her mate. He deeply requires the nurturing energy he was denied from birth to heal his maternal wounds.
When he finds out you only want one child with him it brings out the barbarian in his blood. He plans to pin you down and impregnate you several times by force to gain the family he desires.
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🔗 Part 5 Endless Empire
Feyd’s uncle from beyond the grave tries to separate you two , sending a predated message to Emperor Shaddam that Feyd would like to marry his daughter Princess Irulan and rule the empire with her instead. Feyd however convinces the council to favor you as his chosen Baroness. He realizes you are the first person he has ever loved and the first person who has shown him love in return. He pleases you gently instead of the brutal ways that he likes and sexually submits to you. It changes him to be both gentle and hard. Finally understanding what love is he will sacrifice everything to be with you.
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🔗 Part 6 Brazen Baron
Feyd Rautha celebrates his coronation infront of the populous of Geidi prime in the fortress courtyard. Millions flood the capital to see him officiated as their new Baron. Feyd has a deep rooted fixation with desecrating his Harkonnen heritage due to childhood trauma. His brother Rabban killed their biological father for betraying the Baron (his uncle). Feyd never got over it and defiles holy places of the Harkonnens in spite. He has sex with you in the Holy Shrine room before his coronation committing sacrilege.
On the same night of his coronation you reveal to Feyd you are Bene Gesserit. You use your powers to inflict him with what he craves the most: pain. You make him cum transferring the energy of physical agony during sex with your finger tips pressed to his temple. It enters his mind so powerfully he felt as though he would die. He immediately loses his need for kink and is desperate to keep you as his forever.
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Part 7 Honor & Heir
Series Finale 🙏🏻 Scheduled This weekend
Summary
Feyd starts a war on Arrakis to gain final control over the Spice fields. He wants to finally free its massive profits to House Harkonnen and become the wealthiest family in the galaxy for you and his heir.
During your final month of pregnancy you and Feyd are summoned to the Emperors palace on the planet Kaitain by decree. Feyd is upset at any inconveniences to you with his unborn during this fragile time.
You reunite with your Reverend mother in the palatial gardens and a fated decision must be made. The stress of the decision is so great you go into labor. For Feyd his world stops. He drops all of his responsibilities with the Emperor to be by your side.
Special thanks for enjoying the series!I wrote this specifically to entertain you & feed the Feyd Rautha lust ⚔️.
📖 Writer @austinbutlerslovers (Andrea💕) ✍🏼 Proof Reader/ Editor @faegoddessog 🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia. 💗Affection Consultant @magicovento
⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Tag list ⚔️ FULL 🙏🏻
@faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @jessica987 @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney @caroline334 @szapizzapanda @landlockedmermaid77 @moonsoulk @feralforfeydrautha @sophroniaclark @emeraldsgirl @cooliosthings @zzz000eee @or-was-it-just-a-dream @mamawiggers1980 @neverswimalone @alexa4040 @joyfulpersonbeliever @zero-the-hero1 @skinny-baby-eva @mcmisbehaving @feydsociety @superflashvengers
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