#spent the entire day running through courses that would help at work

[silentmoths]

any of my moots or followers that bothered with education past highschool

please know you have my utmost respect

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】: After disappointing your totally not possessive boyfriend. You try your hardest to get forgiveness out of him.

[W.C] : 1.4k

-> Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff.

Paring: Daddy!Bucky x Fem!Reader

[Warnings] : Food mentioned, slightly DDLG vibes. Food play. Whipped cream. Making out. Hickeys. Swearing. Dirty talking. Possessive Bucky. Slightly mean Bucky.

Masterlist | Navigation

You were a good girl. You promised. So when the fifth night of being ignored came around you wanted, no, you needed to put actions in your own hands. So you did what you do best. Dress to impress. Finding your favourite dress, pretty, pink, and white. It was a dress that Bucky got tailored just for you. It's one of a kind. And it was one of your prized possessions. It was the first gift he gave you when you first met. It holds so many memories for both of you. So you needed it for your plan. To gain Bucky’s forgiveness, of course.

Pacing around the room, you waited for Buck to come home. He left a note saying he would be out late for work, making your anxiousness grow. He knew you hated when he didn’t talk to you. You missed his voice, the soft charm that rolls off his tongue. You even missed the sadistic nature that slipped off his tongue. God, he made you crave him so badly that you felt like you were going mad. But with the sound of the locked front door unlocking, your heart skipped. You sat on the floor on the soft white fluffy carpet that lays on the edge of your bed. You watched the door like a hawk, knowing he needed to come in there first to undress. The door opened slowly since he spent the last minute looking for you he became slightly uneasy, but as soon as his eye met yours, the anxiety was completely erased by the feeling of lust and curiosity.

“Hello, Daddy.” The name nearly made his legs buckle, all his sinful thoughts going straight to his head. He kept his expression the same, though, not letting you have the satisfaction of knowing he was wrapped around your finger. He was obsessed with you. He craved you the same, if not more, as you. His obsession ran deep as it was the root of most of his outbursts of anger.

He doesn't mean to become so angry at you but the idea of someone else touching you, having their way with you. Call him possessive. Heck, call him crazy for wanting to lock you up so you do not dare see the light of day. He wanted you all to himself.

"What do we have here, babygirl?" He chuckled.

"I.. I wanted to show you I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. I truly didn't know what was going on. I..I'm sorry." He let you ramble out your apology. He found it amusing. His hand grazed your chin, making you stop immediately. You haven't felt his touch in a while, so it sent shock waves through you. His thumb running over your cheek softly, lovingly before a half-pull made you whimper. He yanked your face up with his fingers digging into your jaw uncomfortably.

"It's okay, my pretty little doll. You are just too stupid when filthy men try to take what's mine. Come, let's go have something to eat." And just like that, he let go of you entirely. He had just admitted it wasn't your fault but yet... You felt like you were still in trouble. Looking at your feet, you followed Bucky close behind him, heading to the kitchen. He helped you onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge.

"What we doing?" You were curious about Buck’s sudden change in demeanour. He was so cold and angry, and now he seems unreadable like he is showing one emotion to hide his true emotion underneath.

"We are going to have a little fun. Since I've been neglecting you for so long." You wanted to believe his words, but something in the pit of your gut said his words are only the surface of his actions. You nodded to him, giving him a small 'okay'. His next move makes you gulp, seeing the can of whipped cream in his hands.

"Are you a good girl?" He steps in between your legs.

"Yes..." You whimper.

"Will do you anything I ask for?" His fingers reach for the zipper on the back of your dress.

"Yes..."

"Even if it might hurt. Even if it might cause harm to you or I?" He slips the flimsy material off your shoulders slowly. His fingertips graze your soft skin.

"Yes, James. I would die for you. Anything you wish for is yours."

It was like your words made his brain short-circuit. You were willing to die for him? He has never had someone so close to him in the way you were. No one close enough were their life actually matter. God, you couldn't have become more perfect at this moment.

Your dress falls off your top half, showing off the white lace that clung to your breasts. Bucky’s eyes graze over your body, his left hand gripping your thigh while the other shakes the can tightly. He could never get over how beautiful you are. How delicious you look. All for him. And no one else.

He places the nozzle of the can against your collarbone, spraying some of the white fluffy cream onto your hot flesh. It was freezing, given it was in the fridge. The sensation brought a shiver and a low moan for you. His tongue wasted no time in licking up the sweet treat, leaving a nice bright red mark after he was done.

God, he could do this for hours. Never bored of the sounds you make. But as more clothing fell and skin became more sticky from the cream. Your hands gripped Bucky’s bare shoulders.

"hmmm Daddy..." You wiggled on the counter, feeling yourself becoming hot and bothered over the teasing. He chuckled, picking your hand up to grasp it around the can.

"Your turn, Princess." His voice was low with a hint of desperation. You looked at the can in your hand with hooded eyes. He had now just given you the power, so what will you do with it? You shook the can and sprayed some of the whipped cream on his neck, some of it sliding down over his nipple. You licked it up while sucking harshly on his neck. Your tongue fell down to his nipple to clean the rest off, but then an idea sparked from the pitched moan Bucky made.

You've never heard such a sound come out of Buck before. Heck, you didn't even know that he had such sensitive nipples. Oh, this would be fun. Spray some directly onto his nipples. You sucked them hard, making your lover almost whimper.

"F-uckk. Doll... god." He gripped your hair, yanking you off his nipples, trying his hardest to catch his breath. As if, if he didn't pull you off, he would have come in his pants then and there, and that wasn't something Bucky wanted. He needed to come in you or nothing.

"You are such a good baby. Such a good girl." He pants between his words. "Now I need to fuck you." His words made you moan, pulling him in for a kiss. The first kiss you've shared in a while, you've become so desperate for his touch you think you might go crazy. And he could tell, thinking it's quite amusing how whipped you've become for him.

"You want that baby? Want me so deep inside you that you feel me for days?" He lifts you up off the counter, walking you over to the couch, cause he opted the bedroom was too far away.

"Daddy, please, please, Fuck me..." You rambled through the sloppy kiss, feeling your back hit the soft cushions. He climbed on top of you, wrapping one hand around your waist, while the other grips your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Even though he was mean and can be cold and cruel, he loved you so much that words couldn't even begin to explain it. He needed you like how he needed air to breathe.

"For you my dearest Baby girl...Anything."

[murdrdocs]

back home thinking about neighbor miguel o'hara ... tw age gap + miguel calls reader "kid" once + dads best friend miguel

you come home to visit your parents one day, a basket filled with multiple loads of laundry of your most valuable clothing items, ones you didn't trust the dorm machines to take good care of.

your parents are gone, and you're having a little trouble with opening the door and balancing your bags. just when you're about to drop the basket, and your laundry is about to become even dirtier, hands take the basket away from you and your senses are overloaded with heavy breathing and the smell of musky sweat.

you look up, then up some more, and you're met with dark eyes, wavy hair that hangs over thick eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and a really pretty smile. but as attractive as he is, he's definitely a stranger, and your keys are almost sandwiched between your fingers before you see your father's face pop up over his shoulder.

he says your name happily, a wide smile on his face. the stranger steps out of the way so your dad can hug you, but you can't help but attempt to peek over his shoulder to see this handsome stranger again.

loads of excited rambling and questions from your dad later, he's finally introducing you to the man now making a green juice in your kitchen.

"this is miguel. my running buddy? fitness trainer? and our new neighbor!" and your parents new neighbor is incredibly hot.

during your short stays, you see him running, doing lawn work, talking to the mailman every so often. mundane things that should not be as attractive as they are.

and when you come home for the summer, you've never been happier for how social your parents are because there's cook out after cook out and you're always forced to attend, putting up a front that you'd rather be home but you knew that your dad would force his new best friend to show up too, which would let you ogle him.

and ogling eventually turns into small talk, which turns into lingering glances, which turns into receiving lingering glances, which turns into small hugs, into longer hugs, into laughing at dumb jokes, and eventually, into sneaking kisses behind corners.

your parents are hosting the next cook out, an excuse for your father to use his new grill that he'd spent entirely too much money on. there's only two weeks left before you go back to school, and you need something to happen before you go.

which is why whenever you and miguel are the only people inside of your home, you put your glass of lemonade down and grab his forearm, leading him to upstairs where you pull him into the bathroom before he can say anything.

standing with your back against the door, you look up at him, eyes wide, small smile on your lips.

"what're we doing in here?" he asks you, voice low and rough but not completely uninterested.

"we're getting some alone time, miguel."

his eyebrows lift. "alone time? for what?"

you stare at him, deadpan, head tilting. miguel, clearly trying to play off his feelings, laughs, dark eyes looking around before they look back down at you.

"that's funny, kid, now get away from the door."

and the opening is right there. so, of course, you're gonna take it.

"make me."

it could've gone so wrong. miguel could've lifted you over his shoulder and put you down on the other side of him, leaving an open space for him to escape and ignore you for the rest of the time you would be home. but instead, he takes the bait and pushes his lips against yours, kissing you harshly as his hands run down your chest to bunch up the skirt of your dress.

when his fingers slide down against the crotch of your panties, your moan is muffled by miguel's lips, but he has to pull away for air and he's kissing your neck instead and it's much harder to hide your moans when his fingers slip between the elastic of your panties and he starts sliding them through your folds, gathering your slick enough to comfortably begin to slowly plunge one finger into your walls.

the stretch is different from your own fingers, one of his almost equivalent to one and a half of yours. your bottom lip is attacked by your teeth, your hips grind into his hand, your nails scratch at his scalp.

it's so good. even better when two fingers are steadily pumping into you, and he's speaking lowly to you, voice right beside your ears.

"there you go, just like that. such a good, dirty, little slut for me. wanting your dads best friend to fuck you in your own house? would've never expected that from you when we first met. shit, probably wanted me to fuck you right then too, huh? pretty little head thinking about nothing but me bending you over that counter. could sense it with the way you were watching me make that juice."

anyone could hear. anyone of these slightly drunk guests who were entirely too comfortably in your home could come wandering upstairs for the bathroom, the downstairs one probably occupied consistently, and they would hear how miguel o'hara was fucking you on his fingers and talking to you.

your moans were incredibly conspicuous, they were incredibly revealing, not only of your scandalous actions, but of how amazing you felt in the moment.

they were letting miguel know just how close you were, becoming more erratic and high pitched with the longer he continued.

his free hand that was previously pushed into the wood of the door yanked your panties the rest of the way down, letting the material fall to the floor.

"touch yourself for me, amor. play with that pretty little clit of yours." and you do what he says, instantly setting a pace sure to push you over the edge. which, it does in just a few moments.

miguel kisses at your jaw and cheeks as you come down, fingers slowly pumping until they slow to a stop and he pulls them out, sticking them into the wet heat of his mouth instead.

when they're pulled out, clean of your juices but dirtied with his saliva, he asks you: "when do you leave for school again?"

[baby-yongbok]

I loved your handjob fic with bang chan, I thought it was really sweet.

So can I pls request their first time together where reader is all shy and sweet?

I'd love it if there was hand- holding and just adorable words of praise ❤️❤️

I did it! I hope that this is okay! Thanks for your request <3

First Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Imagine

Word Count: 2,886

Genre: Smut, The fluffy kind

Warnings under the cut

This piece is kinda like a part two to Free Time. You don't have to read the first one to enjoy this one but it'll be cool if you do <3

✨Masterlist✨

Warnings: Cursing, that should be all of the warnings? So Sorry if I missed any! This is a pretty fluffy piece!

Reader is Called: Baby, Babygirl, Princess

Chan is called: Babe

You knew that the time would come eventually, you just didn’t know when. You and Chan had agreed to take it slow when you first met, you wanted to get to know each other and see how your feelings developed before you got too physical. It’s been 8 months since the two of you started seeing each other and two months since the two of you upgraded from making out and dry humping to handjobs and fingering.

 Each time that the two of you were intimate you could feel the longing radiating off of each other. You were damn near desperate to feel the weight of him in your mouth or even experience the bliss of him stretching you. Chan would mention his desire to taste you every now and then, he claimed that licking your arousal off of his fingers just wasn’t enough for him. You both wanted more, you just didn’t know when it would happen. You both decided to leave it up to the universe. 

Today wasn’t supposed to be a day off for Chan, it was actually supposed to be tomorrow but there was a mix up with the venue schedule where the boys had a photo shoot scheduled and they were granted time off while it was all figured out. Of course Chan couldn’t complain, who would get upset about an extra day off? You had also gotten the day off due to your job's entire system crashing last night and never going back online. Coincidence? 

Despite having the time off you and Chan both still took some time out of the day to work. You spent most of the day in your respective corners typing and editing to your heart's content until you both got hungry. The two of you decided to order out and spend some time together. That’s how you ended up here, watching a movie in your bedroom at 6:13pm. The deep orange of the sunset is shining through your blinds and illuminating the dark space around you. It looked magical and Chan definitely noticed it. He hasn’t even looked at the screen for the past four minutes. He’s too busy admiring the way that the deep orange compliments your skin, and how it brings out the color in your hair so flawlessly. You looked like a celestial being and he couldn’t help but to be drawn into you. He hated that your eyes were still trained on the screen, he wanted you to look at him. He needed you to. 

“Baby.” He called to you in a whisper and you replied with a hum, eyes still fixed on the screen. This wasn’t good enough, he needed your full attention. He moves his hand and brings it up to your chin, his pointer finger resting on the underside of your chin and turning your head towards him. He tilted it up a bit so that your eyes would catch his, what he didn’t expect was for the sunlight to illuminate your gaze. Your brown orbs turned to gold right in front of him and his entire body caught on fire at the sight of it. It wasn’t some plain old lust that he was feeling, no, it was an intense longing. A desire to become a part of you and turn your body into gold too. 

“Chan?” You blinked up at him, your doe eyes boring into his.

“I want you.” The words left his lips in a whisper, the soft music from your movie adding to the moment. “Is that okay?”

“You want to…” Your sentence trails off as you catch Chan pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. You feel a shiver run down your spine as lust starts to pool in your core. You’ve been more than ready to go all the way with Chan, you were just nervous, you wanted everything to be perfect. But, looking into his eyes right now you can’t imagine a moment more perfect than this. 

“Yes, that’s okay.” You whisper back to him as you lean into him. 

“Thank god.” Chan closes the distance between the two of you, his soft lips crashing against yours and pulling you into a deep passionate kiss. You sigh into him, moving your body to press against his. His hand sneaks up under your shirt to grip your hip, pulling you closer to him. 

You shift your position, straddling him without breaking the kiss. Your hands lace through his soft curls as your lips move in tandem. He lifts his hand higher, raking his nails softly against your skin and leaving Goosebumps in their wake. He breaks the kiss and starts breathlessly kissing down your jaw and neck. He sucked at the sensitive skin, definitely leaving marks behind. 

"Chan I wanna taste you." He groans against your skin, your words making his cock twitch against your core. 

"I don't think I'll last very long if you do." He plants one more kiss on your neck before pulling away, you climb down his body, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. His bottom lip is back between his teeth as he watches you carefully.

"Let's just feel it, okay? Don't worry about lasting." He nods his head as he lifts his hips, allowing you to peel his sweat pants and boxers down his legs. His hard cock spring up, slapping against his clothed stomach. You marvel at his pink tip, the prominent vein on the underside of his dick making your mouth water. You'll finally get to feel it against your tongue, you press your thighs together in anticipation before looking back up at Chan. 

"Ready?"

"Yes, please, I need you." You smile up at him, leaning forward on your knees and licking up the underside of his dick. You both moan at the sensation, his soft skin glides perfectly against your wet tongue. 

Chan tilts his head back to rest on the headboard, a deep exhale falling from his parted lips. You lick up his shaft again, sucking his tip into your mouth and bobbing your head. You take more of him inch by inch as you move against him. The weight of him in your mouth and filling your throat makes your clit throb with need. This was more than worth the wait. 

"Oh, baby you're so perfect." Chan whispers, lifting his head to look at you. Your watery eyes meet his as you take him farther down your throat. His praise makes you want to make him feel even better. 

Chan reaches down towards your hand that's resting on his thigh, covering it with his own and stroking his fingers over the back of your hand. 

"Just like that, you're making me feel so fucking good." You hum in response and Chan's brows pinch together at the sensation. "I love how deep you're taking me. Fuck, babygirl."

You take that as a prompt to take him deeper, a tear rolls down your cheek and you nearly choke around him but the deep groan that leaves him makes it worth it. 

"Oh, baby" You lift up, a string of spit connecting you to his throbbing length. A breathy chuckle leaves your lips and Chan smiles at you. 

"You taste so good, you're so big in my mouth." Chan's cock jumps and you chuckle in response. Just as you're about to go back down on him he sits up a bit, stopping you before you can take him in your mouth completely. 

"I don't want to cum yet and I won't last another second with that pretty mouth on me." You sit up on your knees smiling at him. "It's my turn now."

With a wide playful grin Chan grabs your wrists, pulling you forward and swiftly switching spots with you. He holds your waist, pulling you flat onto your back. You both laugh as he situates you, brushing his fingertips over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and the back of your knees. Your laughs quickly turn into gaspy moans as the sensations cause shivers to rush over you. Your nipples harden as your anticipation builds. 

"I've been waiting to taste you for so long, princess." He tugs at your shorts, nearly ripping them off of you like a kid opening gifts on Christmas. You giggle at his hasty behavior. 

"Oh really? I couldn't tell." Chan rolls his eyes playfully but his expression quickly changes to one of lust when his eyes land on your naked core. The evening light makes your skin glow and your arousal glistens in its presence. 

"Ready, baby?" 

"So ready, love." He smiles against your inner thigh as he kisses his way up to your heat. He licks up the sensitive flesh, moaning at the feel of you against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut as he savors the taste of you. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he licks up your pussy again, circling his tongue around your clit before going back down to your entrance. A deep moan erupts from your throat, your eyes squeeze shut and your back slightly arched off of the mattress.  He's only just started but he feels like heaven against you. He always told you that he believes he's pretty good at eating pussy but you didn't know that it would feel like this. 

"Oh my god." One of your hands reach down to tangle in his hair just as one of his reach up to intertwine with your free one. You hold his hand, squeezing a bit as the pleasure builds. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue and moaning against you sending delicious vibrations through you. 

"Oh, yes, please don't stop. You're so good baby, you're perfect." He trails his tongue down to your entrance, slipping it inside and fucking you with it. A loud whine escapes you as you circle your hips against his face, covering his chin and cheeks in your arousal. 

"Will you suck my clit please, and put two fingers inside."

"Of course, princess." He does as you asked, latching onto your clit again and bringing his free hand over to your entrance. He teases you a bit before pushing his middle and pointer finger inside. He fills you up to the second knuckle, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot. 

"Oh fuck Chan, Yes just like that." He shakes his head against you, giving you a new sensation against your clit. You squeeze his hand, trying your best to reassure him that you're feeling good but with the way you're reacting you're pretty sure he can tell. 

He swirls his tongue around your clit one more time and you barely have a second to warn him before you're coming undone. Your walls clench around his fingers as they try to move inside of you. Your back arches off of the mattress and your eyes squeeze shut as you moan his name with a string of curses. He pulls away from your clit, fingering you through your high just how you like it. 

"That's right, cum for me, babygirl. You sound so pretty, taste so good." Chan kisses the inside of your shaking thigh until you come down from the intense pleasure. He pulls his fingers out of you. Sucking your arousal off and moaning at the taste. 

"You are everything that I dreamed you would be and more." You smile at his words, eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.

"Wait until you feel me."

"Oh fuck, I can't wait to feel you." Chan climbs up your body, lifting your shirt along the way so that he could pull it off once he got to the top. Once your shirt is off he pulls his off, leaving you both naked in front of each other. For each other. 

"I know exactly what position I want, baby. Trust me?" You open your eyes, finding Chan's excited ones and nod. You'd trust him with your life so something as small as a sex position is more than doable. "Turn on your side, okay? Face the window."

You do as he asked, turning on your side and jumping a bit as your thighs close. The pressure on your sensitive bud sends chills up your spine. Chan lays behind you on his side. He snakes one arm under your side, pulling your back against his chest and holding you tight. His other hand grips his cock, positioning it at your entrance. He looks down at you, beautiful doe eyes shining like gold in the deep orange sun. His heart skips a beat. You look so beautiful, you sound even better and at this moment he can't believe how lucky he is to be with you. To have access to you in such a vulnerable way. He leans down, peppering kisses on your cheek, making you giggle. 

"Can I tell you something, baby?" Chan whispers against your cheek and you nod, turning your head to meet his eyes. Suddenly he pushes in, sinking into your dripping heat slowly. Your mouth opens in a silent scream and your eyes widen as they stare into his. He wants to close his eyes but he doesn't dare break eye contact, a deep groan leaves his lips as he leans down to kiss you deeply. He pulls away once he bottoms out and his eyes meet yours again.

"I love you so much." He whispers as he pulls his hips back, thrusting into you slowly and passionately. His arms wrap around you. Hugging you into his chest as he moves in and out of you at a steady pace. Only speeding up a bit once he's adjusted to your tight walls. 

"I love you too, so so much, Chan." Your words leave your mouth in a moan. Your head rests against his shoulder and his rests in the crook of your neck, leaving light kisses in between moans and groans. 

"I feel so good when I'm with you" Chan whispers into your ear, kissing the lobe softly. You moan at his words, you can feel the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter. Suddenly he speeds up a bit, circling his hips into you and fucking you deeper.

"Oh my god, you feel so good. You're so big." Chan groans and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. He bucks his hips into you, reaching impossibility deep as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your neck. Usually it takes more, it always has. You've always needed to touch your clit to cum, but Chan has proven that to be false. 

You feel yourself slip into a pool of pleasure as you start to come undone. You choke on your words as you try to warn him but the fluttering of your walls tells him everything that he needs to know. He grunts, squeezing his eyes shut as his own release creeps up on him.

"Oh fuck, where can I cum. I'm so close." You blink your eyes open slowly, your body still shaking lightly as he stretches you open. 

"Inside, please, wanna feel you." 

"Oh my god." Chan tilts his head back as his rhythm falters. You already felt like heaven and now you were telling him that he could finish inside of you? It's the literal icing on a perfect cake for him.

"I'm gonna - oh fuck." He thrusts into you slow and deep as ropes of sticky cum fill your dripping cunt. You both moan at the sensation, seeing stars and floating through space together as you step out of your cloud of bliss. You squeeze his hand that is holding onto you, tight and secure. 

"Baby?" You call him and he hums, eyes still shut and his chest rises and falls quickly against your back. "Come back to me."

You both giggle a bit and he slowly opens his eyes. "Oh my gosh."

He looks down at you, meeting your bright eyes and smiling. 

"Hey." He chuckles, pecking your nose lightly. 

"Hey." You chuckle back cuddling into his chest. 

"I should, uh, pull out." You shake your head, clenching around him and pulling a groan from him. He's still hard by some miracle and it feels so good to finally feel him complete you. 

"Let's just stay like this for a second, yeah?" Chan stares down at you with bright eyes filled with love, he nods, settling into the mattress and laying down behind you. His fingers run over your stomach slowly as if he were strumming a guitar. The soft touch makes you feel safe and grounded. 

"Sure, baby." He exhales against you softly, kissing your shoulder "Was it everything you expected?"

"So much more than I expected, so perfect. You're so perfect." Chan smiles against your skin, leaving another soft kiss. 

"It's you that's perfect." You both lie there in silence as the sun finally sets and the soft darkness swallows you both. You hear soft music playing and you both look up towards the end of your bed at the credits for the movie you were watching. 

"I wonder if that was a good movie." You ask with a laugh and Chan shrugs pulling you closer. 

"Even if it was, this movie was so much better."

[tsukishimakeiswife]

You just spent the dirtiest night of your life with Geto Suguru.

a/n- this song reminded me of him<3 you could play it throughout the post if you'd like.

------

One chance. That's what you told yourself and Geto before agreeing to go on a date with him. Everything about him was so alluring. You knew once you crossed a certain line with him, there would be no going back. Not with him. In the 3 years you worked with Geto Suguru, not once did you resist catching a glance at him. How could you not? When he looked at you as if you were his only source of life. He was perfect and amazing at everything he did. That's also why you loathed him. Anything you did, he would do it better, that too with such ease.

Hating him wasn't easy, either. Your seniors would want you to consult him if there was any issue. Got a problem with your paycheck? Ask Geto. Want a sick leave? Ask Geto. And wouldn't he enjoy it when you came to him, seeking help? His signature smirk plastered across his face every time you stood outside his office. He was so infuriating, yet so attractive.

One day, he finally pushed you over the edge. A sales pitch you worked on for weeks was scraped just because Geto had a better idea. 'Of course, they should just let him run the company, huh?' You made the not-so-graceful decision of walking out of the meeting and going back to your office. You got your stuff, clearly done for the day, and left the building soon after. Trying to haul the cab in horrendous city traffic only frustrated you further. That was until someone put their hand on your shoulder, almost making you jump.

There he stood, looking egregiously hot. He stood in front of you with his shoulder-length hair in a half bun and a shirt that hugged him just right. He fixed his tie before speaking up after what felt like an eternity of eye contact.

"I didn't mean for that to happen- look, (y/n). I know you hate me right now, but let me make it up to you."

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting in front of him so prettily, adorned in your most breathtaking dress and high heels- to look somewhat tall next to his large build. You made sure to look your best, and the way his eyes scanned your body made your efforts worth them. The glass of wine in your hand, long forgotten as you leaned back and heard him speak. The tension between you two was wild. The air was heavy and thick. The ambiance of the restaurant didn't help much, either. You were sure he picked such a place on purpose.

However, that wasn't the craziest part about tonight. It was the fact that you were enjoying this so much. His eyes never left yours, alternating between your lips and orbs while you spoke. He leaned in to 'hear' you better and 'accidentally' brushed his knees against yours. Tonight, there was something different in him. It was as if nothing was stopping him. Hunger was apparent in his eyes. He was determined to get what he wanted.

You saw through his game. You weren't dumb, and he knew it. He wanted you to make the first move. Moreover, with every second passing, it seemed more difficult not to do that.

"Easier said than done, love. You ne-", he stopped talking immediately. He had something better to focus on now. Your freshly manicured nails were currently placed on his thigh. If his winning this silly game meant what you thought it did, then you'd take it any day. You were attracted to Geto, more than anything at the moment. His eyes darkened and in the blink of an eye, his entire aura shifted. You felt smaller, and you didn't think that was possible with Geto. He called the waiter for the cheque almost as if in a hurry.

The two of you got up and he immediately took your hand in his, taking you towards the elevator, maybe. You didn't care. Not when Geto has you in such a state. And he hasn't even touched you yet.

The two of you enter the elevator, finally alone. He didn't react, though. All you wanted to do was kiss him, taste him, feel him. His calm composure, on the contrary, was far from your flustered state. He looked down to meet your gaze as you did the same, bodies facing each other, but not reacting.

The lift doors opened and he immediately walked out. You tried to keep up with him, but he was practically dragging you now. You entered the suite he'd booked for you and the man in front of you didn't even wait for the door to close before pinning you against it. He leaned down to make sure he was just above you, his hair falling out of place onto yours. You tucked the strands of his hair behind his ears before pulling him down to kiss him.

You could physically feel the smile on his face when you did, and he didn't spare you for a second. His hands immediately reached for your throat and the other one pressed your lower back to bring you closer to him. The kiss was electric, hot, passionate, and desperate. Geto Suguru kissed hard. He gently led you towards the bedroom- not breaking the kiss for a second. You felt ecstatic, his hand on your throat applying the slightest amount of pressure- the kiss which was so hot you felt dizzy already. Breaking apart to catch your breath; you looked into his eyes, his pupils were completely blown out; his hair was a mess now; he was so pretty.

He pushed you onto the bed and you were now lying on your back. Geto caged you in before kissing your jaw, your neck- biting and leaving marks with utmost grace. He kissed you on that spot behind your ears, to which you sharply exhaled. He smirked against your skin and whispered in your ears, "I haven't even done anything yet, and look how you're reacting." you rolled your eyes and scoffed before whining at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your soft skin. Your hands were on his neck, playing with his hair and occasionally tugging on them. It drove him crazy.

He gave you a genuine look as his hands landed on the hem of your dress, making sure you were still okay with this- to which you nodded. He slipped your dress off and tossed it aside, taking in what was in front of him. It was as if he was consuming you completely, his gaze was dark- it sucked you in, trapped you inside. You tugged on his hand for him to hurry. He kissed you again and you unbuttoned his shirt. You knew he had an amazing body, but it was nothing like you'd imagined. There really was not a single thing in him that you could complain about.

He kissed down your chest, taking off your bra and stopping right at your stomach. He looked straight into your eyes and said, "What do you want me to do, love?" your breath hitched and you hesitated. You felt more needy than ever, Geto knew that. But he had to show you he had power over you, didn't he?

"Geto, please. I need you," you said- whispered. He raised his eyebrow to indicate that he'll have to hear you again. "You'll have to be louder- and more specific." he retorted.

"I want you to fuck me, there?" you almost spat out. Only getting more and more frustrated. You sneaked in a 'please, Geto' to make sure he didn't get pissed. All he did was simply nod while taking off your lace panties. He didn't hesitate for a second before shoving two of his long, rough fingers into your cunt. A loud whine left your lips and your hands immediately covered your mouth, trying their best to muffle your moans- screams. His fingers were long. You meant that. He stretched you out and immediately began pumping in and out. He tutted and shook his head- almost as if he was disappointed.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Covering your pretty mouth won't help. And, it's Suguru for you." at this point, anything this man said only made you wetter. He found your g-spot effortlessly, abusing it as he added a third finger. "Fuck- Suguru, too much." your back arched and your breath hitched with every thrust. He could tell you were getting close. "Too much? This isn't enough, my love." his thumb was now on your clit, toying with it as if it wasn't making you whimper and moan out his name. His free hand caressed your face, tucking your hair behind your ear and locking fingers with yours.

You were close, lewd sounds echoed through the suite and his harsh, degrading comments only got you riled up more. "gonna cum- shit. hah- Suguru, more." He chuckled before picking up his pace. "Come on, come for me." pushing you over the edge. You screamed out his name and held onto his hand as your orgasm washed over you. It was ecstatic. Your body spasmed and you tried to catch your breath. Your orgasm barely passed by before you hear his trousers drop to the floor.

"Don't think we're done, love. I meant what I said. We're just getting started." he took off his boxers revealing what he'd been hiding the entire time. This man was big. And you meant that. A wave of shock and excitement passed your body as you gasped at the sight before you.

"Get on your knees for me." you nod and shuffle around till your knees and elbows are on the mattress, your ass is up and your hair brought to one side of your face. His hand trails along your spine kneads your ass before giving it a harsh slap.

“I’m gonna go slow at first, tell me when you’re comfortable, hm?” he says as he coats his cock with your slick. He aligns himself and slowly enters your hole. A sharp exhale left your mouth as you groaned and threw your head back. He was way bigger than you expected, you bit your lip to drift your attention away from the sting you felt. He leaned forward so that his chest was on your back now and he sank his teeth into your neck while entering you slowly. You whimpered and tears pooled in your eyes, carrying your mascara with them as they ran across your cheek. He kissed your tears away and whispered how ‘you’re such a good girl’ and you’re ‘so obedient for him’

After what felt like an eternity, he completely bottomed out and the pain slowly faded away- transforming into the most pleasure you’ve ever had. You gave him a quick nod which was his signal. He turned immediately. His pace increased and he went faster- harder. Your face was now smushed against the pillow while you screamed in pleasure. His hand rubbed against your overstimulated clit- only making you cry out more as you begged him to slow down, to go easy on you. His hips snapped against yours picking up his pace despite your cries.

You could feel your next orgasm nearing, feeling embarrassed over how much tighter your cunt got with every thrust, a groan left his lips and he grabbed a fistful of your hair to lift you up to his level, your back pressed against his strong chest.

“You’re gonna be a good slut for me and take it, yeah? I see the way you’d look at me everyday. Fucking me with your eyes in front of everyone. Now take it like a good girl.” you cried out his name and tried to grab his hand that was currently abusing your clit. Your choked cries and unsuccessful attempts at getting him to slow down did nothing but boost his ego more. He let go of your hair letting you fall back onto the pillow and grabbed your face, turning it to the side, “You’re not gonna look away, okay?” he said.

You bit your lip and nodded at him as you grabbed the bedsheets, seeking support from the silk sheet underneath the two of you. He thought you looked beautiful, your pouty lips were swollen and glistened with your own saliva on them, your cheeks stained with mascara and your eyes, half lidded and pooled with tears. You looked ethereal.

With a final thrust you came around him, crying out choked moans and whines as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt like you couldn’t think anymore. Geto thrusted into you throughout your orgasm and gently lifted you up while he fucked into you, you gasped as you still clinged onto him. This man was strong- he lifted you off the ground while fucking into you as if it was no big deal.

By the time you rode out your high, you realized you were pressed against the glass window of your suite. The cold glass made you hiss as you looked down at the busy street. Humiliation took over you as you looked at Geto with a confused face. You were tired, that's for sure. A mess. That was an accurate word to describe your state right now. Geto pulled out of your abused hole and you whined at the empty feeling, still breathing heavily from your last orgasm. He turned you around to face him.

"You alright there?" he tilted his face to the side and leaned down to lock lips with yours. He was soft, kind, and caring. At the same time time; he was rough, mean, and sadistic. He had you wrapped around his finger. You whispered his name out when he slowly entered you again. Your back arched and you dug your nails into his back. He hissed at your actions and groaned your name out. Your name left his lips as if it was his favourite word.

His pace increased and you clung onto him with every bit of strength left in you. Your mind felt foggy and you didn't know what took over you, you spoke up. "Suguru, let me ride you. Please." it was a weak whisper. He wouldn't have been able to hear you if it wasn't for how close the two of you were. He slowed down and carried you to the bed, placing you down before getting on. He made himself comfortable against the bedframe and tapped on his thigh, "There's nothing I would love more, love."

You weren't so sure if that was a mistake or not.

"Tired already? You've barely moved."

"So gorgeous, all f'me."

"Look at you, my cock-drunk princess."

"Want me to lend a hand?" he smirked. He had the 'genius' idea of tying your hands behind your back before you got on top of him. You definitely made a mistake with your suggestion. Your head was on his shoulder now. Your thighs felt like they were on fire. Every single movement made you cry out. He didn't help you out, either. His large cock only adding to your mix of pleasure and pain. He enjoyed this more than anything. Your struggle to take him and maintain balance riled him up even more. You groaned at his words and nodded into his shoulder.

"What was that? You're gonna have to tell me." you can't believe you almost forgot why you hated him so much. He grabbed your face by the neck and brought you to face him, inches apart. You bit your lip to muffle out your moans and rolled your eyes. He looked at you, waiting for you to speak. "Help me, Suguru." "Please," you added, before he spoke up, causing him to smile.

"Whatever you say, love," he whispered in your ear before gripping your hips and bucking his hips upwards. You gasped at the sudden movement and lost balance, falling back onto his shoulder as you cried out his name. He was close, and so were you. Your whines and moans of his name made him feel like his body was on fire. You had no idea how obsessed he was with you. And there you were, in front of him, breaking down because of him.

"Fuck, (y/n). You're driving me crazy." he pulled you up and looked at you, and you didn't dare to look away from him. No, if you did, you were sure he would ruin you. His words threw you over the edge as you tightened around him and came. He hissed at you and shot his seed into you. He held onto you as you clawed at his chest- riding out your high.

The two of you stayed in the same position for who knows how long. "I thought this was supposed to be an apology dinner." you panted out.

"Would you rather have that?"

"...no."

You let out a tired giggle before looking up to meet his eyes, smiling and pulling him into a simple, pure, passionate kiss.

"I still dislike you, though,"

“I wouldn’t pass a judgment so soon. After all, I’m not done with you yet.” he said, while his hands moved down your body.

———

part two??

[suuuupernovaaa]

nìnrra

nìnrra [nɪ.ˈnṛ.a] adv. proudly, with pride

Anonymous Request: Maybe you can write something about Ao'nung? Where his s/o is a Sully daughter (so a forest na'vi) and things between them are serious, but maybe his parents want him to mate with a metkayina woman instead?

Ao'nung must find a way to convince his parents to allow him to be with you, despite you not being one of the Metkayina.

TW: blood

Ao'nung wanted to scream out of frustration, but instead, he simply nodded and walked away from the conversation.

His parents just didn't understand. They wanted to pair him with a Metkayina woman, someone who had grown up with him and better understood their ways, and until recently Ao'nung had, of course, been fine with that.

That was, until he met you.

Now, he couldn't imagine spending his life with any Metkayina woman. Not when he had you.

--

You waited anxiously for Ao'nung's return, pacing in your mauri pod, your sister's eyes carefully watching you.

"Y/N, sit down," Kiri finally said. "You need to relax."

"How can I!" you replied, practically hissing at her, and instantly felt bad for your reaction. It wasn't Kiri's fault that you were so stressed out - you were just so worried about how Ao'nung's conversation would go with his parents.

As the eldest son of the chief, Ao'nung's future had been planned since the day he was born - and you knew you were disrupting that by being in love with him, but you just couldn't help it.

Even though Ao'nung had annoyed you at first, and you'd thought him arrogant, the more time you spent around him, the more you realized he was just trying to live up to the pressure put on him.

You were just about to sit next to Kiri, when Neteyam ran by your mauri, sprinting and hollering about something - it was so fast, you couldn't understand.

"Probably Lo'ak," Kiri said, rolling her eyes, but the both of you jumped up to follow your twin brother. He was running towards the beach, and Lo'ak was just behind him.

"Or not," Kiri amended as you followed.

There was a small gathering on the beach, and you followed your brothers as they wove their way through the crowd.

"Y/N!" Neteyam yelled, turning frantically to look for you. "It's Ao'nung. Quick."

He grabbed your arm, and you rushed forward with him.

Lying on the beach was Ao'nung, and there was a large gash across his chest, and blood was pouring out of it profusely. Roxto sat next to him, also scratched up but not as gravely injured.

Quickly, you knelt next to Ao'nung and pulled off the top you were wearing, pressing it onto the wound.

"What happened," you asked quickly as you worked. While Ao'nung replied, you asked Kiri for a few specific things, and she took off to get them, probably from your mother.

"Fishing accident," Ao'nung said, and you looked to Roxto for a further explanation.

"He was mad. We got careless. The spear slipped."

You bent down, listening to his heartbeat. "It's missed anything vital. We just need to stop the bleeding. Roxto, apply pressure here." You removed your hands as Roxto's hovered, and you pressed his down over the bloody clothing.

Kiri returned swiftly with what you needed, and you got to work, applying agents that you knew would slow bleeding and promote clotting, plus ward off infection. You lay clean cloths over the wound, as the bleeding slowed. Ao'nung was silent, his teeth gritted, through the entire process. Many watched, and you knew he wanted to look strong for them.

Finally, you allowed yourself to look into Ao'nung's eyes, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

"You will live to see another day, Yawne," you said, and he reached out to grab your wrist and hold it tight. You were still applying pressure t the wound, but he was certainly out of the woods. The amount of blood had been alarming, but his greatest risk would be infection, not death from blood loss.

"Thank you, Yawntu," he said, his jaw finally relaxing, almost managing a smile.

"Everyone, shoo!" you said, turning to gesture with your arms wildly at them. "Give him some space."

As you turned back to him, his mother arrived.

"Where is my son!?" she yelled, as the crowd began to dissipate. She knelt down opposite you, and you backed up a little bit - or tried to, until Ao'nung reached out, grabbing your hand and stopping you from moving further away.

"I'm okay, Mom. Y/N has healed me."

She moved the bandages out of the way, closely examining the wound. "It needs closed."

You nodded, and held out the needle and thread you had been just about to use, once you got some privacy. "I wanted to move from the beach, ensure the wound was clean first."

She peered at the wound, her son, and then you.

"This is fine work, Y/N," she had to admit, though she seemed to do it reluctantly. "Come with me."

She stood and turned. You jumped up, pulling Ao'nung with you, and you followed her back to her home. She instructed Ao'nung to sit down, and told you to proceed with cleaning and closing the wound.

"This will hurt," you told Ao'nung as you ensured your needle was sharp enough. You reached out, putting a hand on his cheek. "Tell if you need a break. It's going to be many stitches."

He nodded, gritting his teeth, and you began.

Not so much as a sigh came from Ao'nung's mouth as you put 23 stitches in his chest, slowly, to ensure the wound was lined up and would leave as small a scar as possible on his broad, beautiful chest.

When you were done, you cleaned and dressed the wound, and you had almost forgotten Ronal was watching over your shoulder.

"Beautiful work," Ronal said, examining closely once you were done, and you slumped back against the soft wall of the mauri, exhausted from worry and stress.

"Leave now, girl, I must speak to my son," Ronal said, without so much as look towards you, and you didn't have to be asked twice.

--

You washed yourself clean, and hovered in the water awhile, joined by Neteyam.

"You were in there a long time," he said. "What happened?"

You described the scene to him, and he flinched when you got to the part about Ronal's dismissal.

"Well, if she doesn't let you two be together now, she's a fool," Neteyam said with a comforting smile. Something above your head caught his eye, and you turned to see Ao'nung approaching.

You sprung up, rushing to him, and heard the splash of Neteyam swimming away.

"Don't get the wound wet for a few days!" you exclaimed, pushing him by his shoulders away from the shoreline.

He smiled at laughed. "I know, I know, mom told me."

You sighed. "Are you okay?"

"Are you? I've never seen my mother scrutinize someone so hard, for so long."

You let out a long exhale. "I feel like I could sleep for three days straight."

"And you should. But first, I should tell you, we have my parents' approval."

That certainly woke you right up. "We... what?"

"My mother said she'd never seen such a promising tsahik before, and we would be a fool to let another clan have you when our people could use your skills here."

Your mouth hung open. "So, she finds me useful?" You had to chuckle.

"Useful enough to be my mate."

You fell forward into his arms, careful to avoid the bandages on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him.

"We can have everything we want," he whispered, and your heart felt as if it may burst from joy, after the insanely stressful day you'd just had.

You felt like you could cry, or maybe pass out, or both.

"I love you, Ao'nung," you whispered, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

He kissed just below each eye, removing your tears, then your nose, and finally, a gentle kiss on the mouth.

"I'm so proud to call you mine, Y/N. I will love you forever."

Proud was just how you felt, as well. Proud of yourself, proud of your future mate, and proud to become one of the Metkayina.

[enviedear]

can we see billy with a sick reader 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

billy with sick!reader

of course nonnie! i think we can all rightfully assume he'd be an absolute worrywart if his girl is sick. i mean, for good reason. the last time a person he loved got sick... well that was traumatic.

tw— reader's sick, so talks of sick people stuff, tooth rotting fluff

request

the dreaded chin cough had been spreading all throughout town, and despite billy's warnings, you had ventured out a few days ago to pick up your order from the general store. you had convinced yourself it would be fine, especially since the owner never kept orders longer than a day.

but now, as you cover your mouth for the fourth time in a minute, you wish you would've listened to your sweetheart. your eyes are running and tired but you can't stop coughing long enough to hold a wet rag over them. there's no comfort, only ailment.

wheezing, you bury yourself further into your linen covers, pillow wet from unwilled tears. so you lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness. you feel chilly and warm all the same and your eyes refuse to stay open for longer than a second.

it feels like hours pass until you feel a hand on your forehead. cracking open your eyes, you see billy, staring back at you with worry etched on his loving face.

"sweetheart...how'd you feel?" he asks, voice breaking on the endearment.

you try to respond, but your throat is too raw, and your coughing returns in full force when you suck in a breath. billy reaches over and hands you a glass of water—warm from its time spent untouched on your bedside table.

billy helps you sit up and takes the glass from your shaking hands, holding it to your lips as you take tiny sips. the warm water soothes your throat and you let out a sigh of relief.

"thank you," you manage to rasp out, your voice hoarse.

"don't thank me, jus' rest and get better, f'me." billy replies, his concern still evident in his tone.

you lean back against your pillow, feeling exhausted and drained. you close your eyes and drift off into a fitful sleep.

when you wake up, the sun is high in the sky and billy is sitting in a chair next to your bed, keeping watch over you. he looks tired, but his eyes light up when he sees you're awake.

"how're you feelin'? any better?" he asks softly.

"a little better." you reply, your voice rough and scratchy but less strained than before.

"s'good to hear, honey. you had me real worried." he says with a small, shy smile. "i brought some soup for you, should help your cough."

he helps you sit up again and provides spoonfuls of warm soup to you. it immediately takes effects, soothing your throat and warming your chilled body. the gunslinger watches over you the entire time, making sure that you finish every bit before allowing you to lay back down again.

"thank you billy, you don't have to do all this." you peer at his through your lashes, already tired from sitting up so long.

"s'okay, i don't mind. i'll always take care of you, honey." he confesses, his voice soft and soothing.

you smile weakly, feeling a sense of solace wash over you. your outlaw frets horribly with any illness, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. loosing his family to disease certainly shaped his scrupulous worry.

he's true to his word. he tends to you as if you were royalty, kind blue eyes watching over you. as you drift off into the first comforting sleep, since getting sick, you feel his hand on your head, stroking your hair sweetly. his touch providing an earnest console in the midst of your malady.

as the night goes on, billy stays by your side, bringing warm cloths for your forehead and making sure that you have enough water to drink. you sleep peacefully while he sits vigilantly next to you.

as long as billy is by your side, you know you'll make it through.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Deep, Deep Down (Broadchurch One-Shot)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Your menstrual cycle was always the worst, but Alec does his best to make it better.

CW: reader is gn but has periods (rip- readers just like me fr), tooth-rotting fluff, comfort, idk what else to tag this

Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Deep, deep down inside you’re aware that everyone’s experience is relative to their own situation and tolerance. You know this, but you’re also not entirely sure that anyone else could possibly have a period this bad.

They’re always like this. Agonising, debilitating, and very, very heavy. Alec was quite concerned when he witnessed his first one of yours. He was fawning over you and itching for his keys to take you to the doctor at any given second. It had taken a fair amount of convincing to get him to stand down. This was your normal. You’d gotten used to it (sort of) and now so would he. 

So month in and month out you spent at least one week a month curled up in a blanket fort cradling a heat pack like it was the only thing holding you back from death. Not even a hot chocolate made you feel better on your worst days. Not even the fancy ones with the whipped cream and the marshmallows. It was truly a cause for concern. 

Alec had started keeping mental track of your periods. Not on purpose, but it was hard not to notice when you basically stopped being able to function like a regular person for a minimum of a week per month. 

Alec knew your cycle was due to start any day, and he’d been trying to think of something to do for you to help you through it for at least three days. There was the standard, of course- the flowers, the chocolates, the hot water bottles- but he wanted something else. Something special. But what? 

Alec had thought about it for a little while before it came to him.

 

He prepared as many of your favourite things as possible. Your favourite snacks, flowers, plushies, blankets, foods. He’d even gone to the effort of grabbing all of your favourite restaurant meals and portioning them up for you so all you had to do when you got hungry was pop them in the microwave and start snacking. 

When you’d deemed yourself well enough to emerge from the bedroom and flop down in the lounge room, you’d almost cried at the sight that met you there. 

Soft blankets ready and waiting to cuddle into. A couple of your favourite plushies to keep you company. A little wicker basket of your favourite snacks. He’d even brought home Indian food for your lunch. The lights were dimmed and your string lights across the top of the TV cabinet were on and flickering softly. 

“I- erm, I’ve got t’go back to work, love,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. He was genuinely apologetic, you could see. And you chewed back the grateful tears. “But this should keep you goin’ till I get home, yes?” 

You looked around at the piles of things. He’d even teed up your favourite comfort film. Wow, maybe it wasn’t all men. 

“Y-yeah, Alec- I- this is amazing,” you breathed, rubbing at your tummy softly. 

Alec clocked the movement and turned around to pass you a bottle of water and some painkillers. Behind him, there was a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream. Right next to the remote. You were a little in shock, to be completely honest. 

“Here, take these. Erm- once I get back, I’ll run you a bath an’ we can watch a movie or cuddle or something,” his cheeks flushed the palest shade of pink. You nodded, taking the pills and swallowing them down. “Whatever y’want. I want that water done, though,” he said pointedly. “Keep y’fluids up, y’ken?” 

You sighed and took an extra large sip just to appease him.

 

“Yessir,” you said cheekily, followed by a much softer, “thank you, Alec. Really. This is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“Low bar,” was all he replied. You reached out for him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. Alec hesitated to pull away, and you chuckled sadly. 

“Go on, now. Off to solve some crimes, hey?” 

“Tha’s me. Alrigh’, take care, love, yeah?” 

You plop down onto the couch, pulling a blanket close.  “Always, sir.”

[williamswifey]

imagine the co-star!gf! reader and bella doing the lipstick trend on tiktok and when the camera shows bella, they're looking at the reader with so much love and softness in their eyes :(((

(can i have this as a one-shot, please??? <33)

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 - 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐘

pairing ; bella ramsey x fem!reader

summary ; you and bella made a tiktok. they only agreed because they love you.

content warnings ; none

a/n ; sorry for going mia! i’ve been so busy :(

masterlist

you were giggling as your hands held onto bella’s face. they were giggling too, their face a deep shade of crimson as you pressed your lips to their forehead.

a few minutes ago, you and bella had been sitting in silence on your bed. you were resting on their chest, scrolling through tiktok while had been reading a book.

it was peaceful, until you stumbled upon a video of a couple, where a girl had been applying lipstick—and smudged it, and her boyfriend wiped the lipstick off her chin. when the camera panned towards him, his face was covered in lipstick stained kisses.

immediately, you shot up in bed. bella looked at you worriedly, before you practically shoved your phone into their face.

“um, y/n/n, that’s very cute, but why did you show me that?” bella said a moment after the video ended, sitting up against the pillows.

you sighed.

“do you think it’s stupid?” you asked, hoping bella would be interested in doing that with you.

you and bella’s relationship wasn’t private by any means, and you loved filming tiktoks with them. they weren’t a huge fan of the app, but every so often they’d participate in a trend with you.

“no, i think it’s cute.”

your face brightened.

you shifted closer to bella with an excited grin on your face.

“cute enough to do it with me?”

you could tell bella was reluctant. they were so peaceful with their book, and you knew that they knew the lipstick would stain and leave residue on their face for the rest of the day.

you gave bella your best puppy eyes.

“ugh, of course. i can’t say no to you when you do that.”

you grinned triumphantly.

“my cuteness is your weakness then, huh?”

bella’s face tinted pink. they sighed happily and shook their head, “it’s a blessing and a curse.”

that’s how you ended up here, with three deep red kiss marks on bella’s forehead. you were making your way across their face, reapplying the lipstick every few marks you left.

bella’s face was hot with a blush the longer you held it. you were so interested in getting the marks right, you had barely noticed bella’s loving stares towards you.

bella loved you more than you realized. they were a pretty easy going person, very charming and easy to get along with—but they’d never do the things they did for you for anyone else.

you’re the only person bella would go to the supermarket for at 11pm in their pajamas when you run out of ice cream for your movie marathon. you’re the only person bella would write an entire song for and sing it to you to help you fall asleep. you’re the only person bella would allow to braid their hair, and you’re the only person they’d ever agree to make a tiktok with.

once you finished leaving your kisses on bella, you pulled back and examined your work. bella pouted.

“no actual kiss?”

“after the video,” you promised, not wanting the lipstick to be on bella’s lips too.

you clicked your phone on and used the audio, following the trend accordingly. bella played their part perfectly—not that you’d expect any less.

you posted the video immediately and threw your phone to the side, pinning bella down while giggling, engulfing them in a horde of kisses.

they playfully squirmed and resisted, but they truthfully wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

***

the rest of the day had been uneventful. you hadn’t checked your phone yet, and spent the afternoon with bella. you played a board game, you made dinner together, they washed your hair for you.

bella was making popcorn for your movie night when you went to check your phone, opening tiktok. your notification box was filled to the max, and the video with bella had blown up.

you had forgotten you filmed the video in the first place. you smiled as you rewatched it a few times, slowly noticing more and more how truly in love bella looked when you made eye contact.

you clicked on the comments, your face lighting up:

user2456: the way bella looks at you ohmygod.

y/nl/nsfan: i want what they have

pughslove: this. this is true love.

you watched the video again a few times. bella truly was the best partner you could ever have asked for. they were everything and more.

your thumbs confined to scroll as you laid on your’s and bella’s bed. you had lost track of time and you heard bella coming upstairs to check on you.

“darling, you okay? the popcorn’s been ready for ten minutes,” they explained, but were cut off with a hug.

bella was quick to wrap their arms around you.

“everything okay?” they asked, running a hand down your back.

you nodded.

“yeah. i just really love you.” you said, watching bella blush.

“i love you more.”

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 4 5 6 💐

When Steve got home, Robin had soup waiting for him. He was beyond grateful for a nice warm meal at the end of the day. He had been short with her during their shift—Steve could be a real grump when he was sick—so he apologized for being a dingus.

While they ate, Steve put on their favorite show: Head of the Class. Robin told him he'd make a good teacher every time they watched it. Maybe he would've considered becoming one if he had gotten into college.

The next day was Sunday, and the store was closed. Finally, a much-needed day off. Steve’s plan was to stay in and help Robin pack up her entire life—again. He’d helped her move into his apartment after she’d graduated in the spring.

They both knew living together was temporary, but that hadn’t stopped Steve from getting used to how things were and not wanting them to change.

Robin had spent most of the time they were living and working together trying to convince him to come with her. Instead of living in the dorms, she suggested they get an apartment in the city together. That way, they’d still be there to support each other and could afford it by continuing to split the rent.

If only Steve wasn’t running his mother’s dream business. He couldn’t bring himself to commit to Robin’s plan. He wanted to, but mostly because it would feel even more like hell in Hawkins without her. Besides her, all Steve had left were the kids, and they would eventually go off to college, too.

When it was official that he wasn’t going to go, Steve put up a flier to find another roommate.

He’d been relying on Robin too much. With her and Nancy gone that fall, maybe he could get a life of his own. As much as he’d miss them, he was in too deep to abandon the shop and his mom.

He’d come to love his job. He never thought he’d love anything about working, but he’d found something he was good at—something that most days didn't even feel like work. He was helping people and bringing joy to others. He liked taking care of flowers, too; seeing them grow and bloom and then go off to finish their purpose.

Back in Robin’s room, she was going through her bookshelf, contemplating every single book she had and throwing most of them in a box that would go with her. Steve didn’t know how he was going to lift it to his car on moving day.

“Robs, I’m pretty sure you won’t need any of your books. You’re going to a big school full of nerdy, smart people just like you. Of course the place is gonna have a library. Although… I’m not sure that they’re going to have this book.” Steve looked at it, brows raising suspiciously. There was a muscular man standing proudly on the cover. Kinda feminine, with long flowing hair. He was embracing a woman with a very ample bosom.

Robin snatched the book from him, face flushing, and dropped it in the box. Steve didn’t get an explanation, but they continued to chit-chat.

Random objects kept triggering Robin’s memory, sparking tales that Steve listened to intently. He laughed when she read out loud from her diary the passage about her massive crush on Tammy Thompson.

Steve sang like a muppet, interrupting her just to get her to laugh with him while he arranged her clothes so neatly it was like they were the most complicated flower arrangement he’d ever crafted. Getting every piece of clothing into her suitcase almost felt like Tetris. It was satisfying when he got it closed. Luckily, Robin wasn’t a stereotypical girl with a lot of clothing anyway.

When she went to pack up the bathroom, Steve was so focused that he nearly missed the phone ringing. There was one in his bedroom that was closer than the one in the kitchen, so he got up and ran into his room to catch the call.

Still being sick, Steve was breathless by the time he was able to grab the phone. He sat down on his bed and took a deep breath before he answered. He wasn’t sure who it could be, but his eyes widened as he listened to the person on the other end. The name made him pause: Eddie. Oh.

That was familiar, wasn’t it?

He was about to speak when a sneeze snuck up on him. He pulled out the hanky he’d been favoring ever since it had been given to him. He blocked the receiver, cursed softly, and blotted his nose as it hit him: it was the hanky giver himself on the other end.

“Hey, Eddie! Yes, this is Steve from Harrington Floral,” he replied, smiling a bit. He was chomping at the bit to find out if Eddie’s uncle had gotten engaged. “Did your uncle pop the question last night?”

Forget that Eddie was calling him to find out about his roommate vacancy—he had to know if there was any good news. Steve laughed excitedly when Eddie confirmed that it did indeed happen and that his uncle had visited the flower shop that morning.

“Oh! Your uncle is Wayne? He is the sweetest guy! I didn’t know he was going to propose. He damn near cleared us out of roses! At least now I know it was for a very good reason!”

If Eddie had a nickel for every time he’d heard someone call his uncle sweet, he would’ve been broke. Most people judged Wayne by his surly exterior, just like they judged Eddie by his style and taste in music.

It made Eddie like Steve more, and he could feel a genuine smile stretch across his face. “His fiancée loved them, man. I can pretty much guarantee they’ll choose you to flowerise their wedding. And he’ll be back to buy another bouquet from you as soon as those roses wilt.”

He’d seen the determination in his uncle’s eyes. Wayne wasn’t the type to back down from his words. Kathleen was going to be getting bouquets for the rest of her life. They wouldn’t all be as extravagant as the first one, sure, but she would be spoiled as much as Wayne was able.

“I really appreciate the business,” Steve said, “and because you came on the same day, it just shows that you’re both equally sweet and thoughtful. Happy to hear that he’ll be a repeat customer. Maybe you will be, too?”

Eddie ducked his head. If he had a nickel for every time someone had called him sweet, he would be double broke. It was likely just a salesman’s tactic, but the flattery was pleasurable regardless.

He wondered if Steve would be put off by him if he knew Eddie hadn’t given the flowers to anyone and had kept them for himself like a loser.

“I’ll be back,” he confirmed. And not just because he had a quickly escalating crush on the man in charge. Those Black-eyed Susans on his mother’s grave still looked as fresh as the day he’d bought them. Eddie coiled the phone cord around his finger. “So, turns out I really didn’t need that free bouquet.”

“Guess you didn’t.” Steve was giddy about the news. He loved that the shop's flowers were a big part of the proposal. “Even better that you didn’t pay for them.”

Steve wondered if Eddie had given them to the bride. Given how impressive the ones his uncle bought were, probably not. Maybe Eddie had someone else to give them to.

Steve had nearly forgotten why Eddie had called until Robin appeared in his doorway. He gave her a glum look at the reminder. “You called about the room, though, right?”

Despite having the flier up for almost two weeks, Steve hadn’t had a prospect for a roommate until then. It was kind of a relief to get an inquiry from someone he’d at least seen in person.

“Yeah. I live with Wayne right now, so I’m going to be cramping his style pretty soon if I don’t skedaddle, what with his new bride and all.” Eddie laughed quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.

Steve made a noise of understanding. “My roommate is moving out next weekend. She’s going off to college... You’re the first person who’s called me about it, so if you’re free today, you can come see the place?”

Eddie’s fingers tapped harder. The prospect of being in constant close quarters with a guy he was into was somewhat dangerous. It would either be fun or complete torture.

Or both. Probably both. Eddie had to go for it.

“I can come see it today. What time and where?”

He remembered what area the apartment was located in from the ad, but he couldn’t remember the street name.

Eddie stood up, spinning in a circle to try and find a pen and paper. Of course, there was nothing close by, and he ended up getting tangled in the phone cord instead and had to spin in the opposite direction to unwind himself. Idiot. “Hang on, just let me grab something to write down the address.”

“No problem.” Steve waited patiently, chuckling a little when he heard noises on the other end of the line. Sounded kinda chaotic.

It took way too long, but Eddie eventually found a ballpoint pen in one of Wayne’s jackets. He rushed to grab the phone again. “Sorry, sorry, I’m ready now.” He uncapped the pen with his teeth, using his arm as a notepad to scribble the address down. “Alright, got it. I’ll see you soon.”

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[bobgasm]

bleeding love | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 2050 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], period sex, menstrual sex, reader has their period, vaginal fingering, p in v, fluff, they’re a mess

summary: in which bob loves you no matter the day of month

author’s note: i hope u guys are filthy other wise this gonna be awkward

oneshot | masterlist

You held the heat pad to your stomach, lying down on the couch while you watched shitty movies and picked all the chocolate out of the pack of trail mix.

Bob had been gone for a week and was due back tomorrow, and of course your period had started two days ago. You’d had the usual cramping leading up to actually getting it, and then the cravings had hit you. So you’d stocked up on a few of your favourite treats, loaded up on painkillers, and toughed out the rest of the work week.

Until the weekend came around and you could slob around the place without a care.

You’d cried yourself to sleep. The painkillers weren’t helping the cramps, and you missed your boyfriend. Your heart ached, the waterworks had started, and they didn’t stop until you were fast asleep. Wearing one of Bob’s tees and hugging his pillow, trying to pretend it was him.

Waking on Sunday morning, your mood was slightly better. Mostly because you knew that Bob would be home just after midday, which meant you could finally cuddle and kiss him instead of his pillow.

The heat pad helped ease some of your discomfort, but not by much. The cramps were the worst part of getting your period, and you’d often be doubled over in the fetal position just for any kind of reprieve from the pain.

Today was one of those days. The painkillers were barely touching the sides, and it was too much admin to try and heat the pad again. So you were curled up in a ball on the couch, unable to even reach for the tv remote to change the channel. Tears burning your eyes and leaving a hot trail down your face. Nose stuffy from the hours spent crying.

You were in pain. You missed Bob. You just wanted to be coddled through the pain. Hell, you wanted the pain to end.

He’d never seen you like this. Your relationship was new, less than three months. The first time you got your period with him, he’d run out to get you supplies. Pads, tampons, painkillers and whatever else he thought would help. He’d come back with two bags worth of goodies because he didn’t want you to be without anything, but also wanted to make sure you were okay.

You’d cried over his generosity, and he’d been a little freaked out by the reaction. Telling you he’d return everything, because apparently that’s what he took your tears to mean.

You’d explained that it was so sweet he’d done all that for you, and that’s why you were crying. But he’d cocked his head and looked at you funny, proclaiming, “do guys not do that for their women when they’re menstruating?”

You’d had to explain that for a lot of men, the concept of a period freaked them the fuck out. Some of your ex boyfriends would avoid you for that entire week, since it meant you could have sex with them.

To which he’d replied, “sure you can. It might get a little messy, but that’s half the fun. Lay a couple towels down and you’re good to go.”

His blasé reaction hadn’t shocked you, not really. But it had stirred a fire burning low in your stomach. Hidden by the painful cramps, but it was there. Lingering. Waiting for him to bring it up again, or even act on it.

You always felt ten times hornier on your period, or whenever you were ovulating. In the past, you’d take care of your needs yourself whenever you were bleeding, since your exes were lesser men and refused to even talk to you during that time. So hearing that your new boyfriend, the one you were falling madly in love with, wasn’t completely grossed out by you during that week every month, caused desire to flow through your body tenfold. The only thing that could satiate it was Bob, and you had no idea how to ask him.

When he came home and found you curled up on the couch, barely able to move, he’d reheated your heating pad and handed you some more painkillers before taking a second to kiss you. Check in on you.

“How you holding up, bug?”

He’d pulled you into his lap and held you as you sobbed, softly rocking you back and forth while his hands rubbed your back or smoothed your hair. Pressing soft kisses to your forehead or readjusting your heat pad when it slipped.

“I missed you so much,” you choked out.

“I missed you too, bug,” he replied softly. “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain. I tried to get back a couple days ago but it just wasn’t in our favour.”

“You did?”

He hummed. “I know you can’t move sometimes when the pain is too much, so you fall behind on taking painkillers or fixing your heat pad. It was killing me knowing you’d probably be curled in a ball crying because it was too much.”

You sobbed harder. Held onto him a little tighter. He was so sweet, and you were so fucking in love with him.

“Hey, I’m here now. Hopefully those painkillers will kick in soon, hm? Then I can get a proper ‘welcome home.’”

“I feel so gross and unsexy right now,” you told him.

“You’re the most sexy, beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he confessed. “I want you all the goddamn time. I’ve told you that before. I want you, now. Like this.”

“I’m on my period, Bobby.”

“I don’t care. I take care of my women, no matter what day of the month it is.”

His mouth was on yours. Hot and hard and dominating. An urgency to his actions. Like this conversation had turned him on. And when you turned to straddle his lap, you felt just how much he was turned on.

Moaning as you tugged his hair, only pausing to take his glasses off before his mouth was on yours again. Tasting and sucking. Claiming.

You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

You moved to the bedroom to get a little more comfortable. He laid some towels down on the bed, and you slipped into the bathroom to remove your tampon. Arousal heavy in your stomach as your feet carried you back into the room.

He was quick to strip you naked and lay you down on the bed, mouth sucking and teeth nipping at your neck, collarbones, breasts and hips.

His fingers teased your slick folds as his mouth wrapped around your breast. Your back arching as two fingers delved into your heat, thumb rolling over your swollen clit.

His fingers hooked and brushed over your g-spot, and then his mouth was claiming yours again. Fingers working you up until your orgasm crashed over you and he swallowed your moan.

Your body alight with love and lust. Watching him with hooded eyes as he stripped and rolled a condom down his length. A proud look in his eye whenever he caught sight of you.

Spread out and leaking a mix of arousal and blood.

“So fucking sexy,” he rasped out, groaning as he crawled onto the bed. Resting his weight on top of you, pressing kisses along your jaw. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your clit, his lips molded with yours as he gripped his cock and entered you.

“Fuck, Bob,” you moaned.

He chuckled lowly as he lifted your legs and prompted you to wrap them around his waist.

He was in no rush, but your body felt alive. Moaning and gasping as he slowly rocked into you, hands buried in his hair while his forehead rested against yours. Lips barely touching, but when they did it was a short, sweet kiss. He wanted to look into your eyes and enjoy every second of this, because it would be a regular thing if you enjoyed it.

“You feel so fucking good, bug,” he whispered breathily, not wanting to speak any louder for fear it might disrupt the mood. The soft, peaceful love making that was happening that was driving you both fucking wild. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Bobby.”

He loved when you called him by his first name in bed. Especially when the sex was soft and unhurried. “Making love” in the traditional definition wasn’t something you two did often, not in the slow, feel-all-the-emotions sense of the term. No. Every time you had sex you considered it love making, but this was different. More intimate.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Bobby.”

“Cum on my cock, bug. Wanna feel your pussy squeezing my cock,” he goaded. He always knew the right things to say to get you there.

“Harder, please. Fuck me harder,” you pleaded, hands sliding down his back and nails digging into his shoulders.

He rocked his hips a little harder. Thrusts feeling deeper. Your high building and building and building until it crashed down all over him. Heels dug into his ass as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, kissing you hard. Biting your bottom lip. Sucking your tongue into his mouth.

“Cum again for me, bug. I know you can. ‘m gonna cum,” he mumbled breathlessly.

You gasped as his thrusts grew a little more frantic. A little more desperate as he sought his own high. Grunting as he dropped his head into your neck. Your body tightened around him. Squeezing him. Your breathy moans hot against his ear. Nails digging into the flesh of his back, providing a little pain that you knew would get him there faster.

“BobBobBob.”

You chanted his name in time to his thrusts. And then you came undone, back arching and legs tightening around his waist. Squeezing him oh so deliciously until he pinned you beneath his weight and his cum spilled into the condom.

“Oh fuck, fuck yes, fucking hell,” he said, barely able to articulate his thoughts.

“That wa–,”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You held your breath for as long as you could, frantically blinking back tears. Trying to exhale, albeit shakily, and then he was looking at you and the first tear fell.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s too soon. Of course it’s too soon, I just…well, I am. And I couldn’t not tell you. Fuck, don’t cry, bug. I can take it back.”

You laughed through the tears and cupped his face. Legs still wrapped around his waist so he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t take it back,” you begged softly. “I’m just so fucking emotional right now.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, baby. Not at all. I’m in love with you too, Bob.”

“Don’t fucking scare me like that,” he chastised. “I’m balls deep inside you professing my love for you and you start crying. What was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t yell at me.” You sobbed.

“Hey, bug, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Fuck, we’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“I told you I was on my period.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I’m sorry, bug. I’m useless at this, okay? I just want to make you happy.”

“I am happy, that’s why I started crying,” you sniffled, wiping at your tears. “Can we just…go have a shower and build a fort to cuddle in and watch movies?”

He smiled softly at you and gave you a sweet kiss. “Of course we can, bug. Why don’t you get started without me and I’ll clean up here before I join you, hm? I’ll let you wash my hair.”

You beamed at him before kissing him again, tongue licking into his mouth. He kissed you back, enjoying the moment a little longer before you unwrapped your legs and let him slip out of you. He scooped you into his arms, making you laugh as he carried you to the bathroom and set you down in the shower.

“What was that for?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your cheek as you smiled at him.

[gabessquishytum]

So Dream gets stuck engaged to Alex. He's not thrilled about it, but it's not like he has much of a say in the whole thing. Alex was the only person able to put up with Dream long enough to even propose, and if Dream wants access to his trust fund, he has to be married under his parent's blessing. Alex is too busy to be involved in the wedding, so Dream hires a wedding planner to help him and of course it's Hob. Hob was an inappropriately older crush Dream had in high school when he was a freshmen and Hob was a senior. Dream just pretends that it's not torture that everyone that meets them assumes that Hob is the other groom, or that Hob doesn't seemed turned off by Dream's personality. It gets worse whenever Alex says he'll come to the meeting, and he doesn't show. Hob is the one to comfort Dream on the car ride home. The night before the wedding, Dream all but says "I wish you were the one at the alter tomorrow," And Hob all but says "I wish I were too." But the rules are clear. Dream can't elope, and his parents would never approve of Hob who's never even had proper champagne. They sort of sit there holding hands in this "In another life" ritual. Well the actual wedding day arrives and just before the vows start, Alex has to take a work call and steps away from the alter. Everyone sighs knowing that they now have to sit there until Alex is done. But Dream's siblings all look at each other and nod and push Hob to the alter. apparently the Endless family isn't entirely stupid and the siblings all really like how happy Hob makes their brother, and the parents aren't thrilled about Hob not being high society, but he has enough money to make sure their son lives comfortably, so they're willing to over look it and bless the marriage. of course Alex's family tries to object to the marriage, but it's overruled. By the time Alex gets back from his work call, the wedding party is almost done with photos and Hob and Dream are happily married

I looooove a good wedding planner au. Plus Alex missing his own wedding?? Hilarious. As he should.

Just imagine the delight Dream feels as he gets to head off on his honeymoon. The one that he and Hob spent hours planning and selecting. The days in Paris, the trip down to the riviera, the boating cruise around the Mediterranean. Dream picked it all out with Hob in his mind: Hob at the top of the Eiffel tour, Hob eating crepes, Hob standing at the prow of a boat at sunset. And he gets to have it all, and be wrapped up in Hob’s arms. His phone is very firmly switched off so he doesn't even see the calls coming in from Alex and the rest of the Burgess family. Its absolute bliss from start to finish, even if Dream does come back with the tops of his ears sunburnt.

And Hob is like... walking on air. He can't believe that this is his life! He's meant to plan weddings, not have them! He never imagined that he'd be the kind of guy to have a husband. He's going around everywhere introducing Dream as "my husband" and finding every possible opportunity to talk about "my husband". He literally runs into Alex at one point and completely fails to recognise him (they barely met because Alex didn't show up to any meetings), and he's like "Oh sorry I'm in a hurry to get to my husband!!!" And Alex has to go through flashbacks to having his wedding stolen out from under him.

Of course Hob continues planning weddings, but none of them will match up to his own. He can't wait to plan their vow renewal, as soon as possible <3

[colourstreakgryffin]

so glad you're back doing requests!! ilysm hope you're all good now!! 🥺🥺

on that note, there's been a serious lack of haganezuka content in general and I'm appalled by this man's underratedness

can I request for haganezuka and an arranged marriage s/o? like the chief set them up and haganezuka is like dammit why tf do I gotta marry a rando but then slowly falls for his partner

tsundere to simp haganezuka is the best i will die on this hill

Aaah! I have only done one for Haganezuka so I’ll do it again. He is big Tsundere and he’ll keep being a Tsundere! Thank you dearly for such a creative and original concept! Have a wonderful day, darling!

Hotaru Haganezuka- Nothing or Everything

In the moment, Hotaru was so annoyed and so uninterested that he could barely look at his Chief in the eyes as he announced the arranged marriage to be official. Married off to some stranger for further finance and protection to the Swordsmith Village. This village is the most closed-off, hidden thing in Japan, why does it need more security?!

Hotaru just grimed and bared through the painful vows that meant nothing to him and had to deal with the fact his supposed spouse is now coming home with him

Hotaru, right off the bat, established to you that you’re not sleeping in the same bedroom as him, you’re not touching any of his belongings and you mean little to him. That this marriage means nothing to him but it’s more of a requirement he is forced to follow. He is the most prickly, unapproachable swordsmith in this entire population, there is no way to get him to like you… so, he suspected this would be the end of it. He’d ignore his legally-assigned spouse and continue on with his beloved work

But… clearly. Fate has decided that Hotaru isn’t going to be alone anymore

Throughout the months after the wedding and you moving into his home, Hotaru had been quiet, harsh, uncaring, uninterested and ignoring you in favour of doting his time, energy and passion into the one thing he loves; swordmaking. However, he has begin to notice you more. The way you make him lunch, the way you patch up his wound after fighting stubbornly with him, the way you clean his home, respect his privacy, give him space… maybe you’re not that bad

Hotaru is a man of pure, raw pride so he simply refused to admit the fact he was slowly but surely falling in love with you, his arranged spouse. He couldn’t admit the fact you made his heart jump up and down, and his head spin. The fact everything you do for him is no longer thought as annoying or sucking up to him but is appreciated internally and acknowledged

Of course, Hotaru will just keep up his now fake disliking and tsundere nature since he’s too closed off and of his own ego to let you know you’ve won him over and now, he likes to admire you from behind his mask. You’re so pretty, so considerate, so ambitious and determined. He loves those type of traits in people, the good ones with an iron will and sly sharp senses. He likes the way you run and he does appreciate it when you actually take time out of your day to deal with him

Hotaru, over more and more time spent with you. Almost a year now, can’t help but soften up. Go from ignoring and snarling to looking right at you and nodding. Acknowledging and listening. Everybody in the village thought it was completely impossible to ring out anything kind and positive from Haganezuka himself but here he is, actually simping for you behind your back

Writing your name in his swordsmithing tools, seeing your reflection through the water cooled shiny silver-like metal of a freshly formed Nichirin Katana, hearing your voice when he is walking back from his swordsmithing hut to his cottage. You corrupt his head 24/7 and he is inbetween being annoyed over it and loving it. To think, he couldn’t stand the fact you were even breathing in the air of his home, now, he wants you around him all the time but he is too protective to let you be around dangerous equipment like his own

Hotaru is getting there over time. He is coming to you and even offering you little gifts whilst looking away and gruffing up. Immediately proclaiming, with image-saving formed anger, that what he has done for you has nothing to do with his own feelings and is just a requirement to make you happy for the Village’s sake. He’s right… gift-giving and love-giving is a requirement, but a requirement his own heart is pushing him to do. Because he’s in love and enamoured with you as a whole

Now. Hotaru wants you to come to his bedroom, act more like your husband and he’s trying to fulfil all those duties he should have when he was wedded to you, how could he be so foolish and blind to the fact you’re perfect? He is quite emotionless, harsh and work-obsessed but he is much more doting and caring than he looks and behaves as

“H-Hey… dummy, can you read that novel outloud? I haven’t read it before and since you’re reading it, why not just read it outloud for both of us so— O-oh, shut up! I don’t like you!”

[mychoombatheroomba]

Moment's Silence

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 19

You only knew one thing: you wanted to forget, but you needed this. Him.

This chapter is NSFW 18+ only please!

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

CW: smut, oral sex (male receiving), semi-public sex

Leon had become very familiar with the feeling of his heart racing. 

He’d felt it running from the undead in Raccoon City. When he raced against time to escape the Umbrella labs with his life. When he’d been recruited, and forced to train hard so hard he thought his body would fail him. When he’d been awakened with tear gas, or told to run mile after mile, or when he stood across from a soldier armed with an edged blade. All that time spent with his heart beating against his ribs . . . 

And none of those experiences set his blood racing quite like when you pushed him up against the wall of the mess hall that night, your lips finding his easily in the dark. 

There had been no one occupying the blind spot that night. No other soul to intrude. Lucky, Leon thought. Lucky for him, lucky for you, and most of all, lucky for whoever had chosen not to take that smoke break, because you may well have killed anyone who interrupted this moment. He may have helped you.

But you were alone. Just you and him and weeks’ worth of tension rolling between you, demanding that you both answer it. Pulling you closer. Pressing you together. 

Weeks of tension, and the need to-

⧫⧫⧫

Forget.

That was all you wanted. You wanted to be somewhere other than the snow and the dark. To feel something other than the pain of your torn belly and your shredded heart. To taste something other than the blood in your mouth and the defeat that washed it down. 

You wanted to be free of the past for just a few moments of peace.

And you were seeking it in the too-pretty boy you kissed now. The beautiful, kind man who had been so patient with you. So caring. And now you would repay him for that kindness. 

Or you would ruin him.

You weren’t sure which urge would win out, in the end. You only knew one thing: you wanted to forget, but you needed this. Him. You needed to be here with him, on a warm spring night. You needed to feel his lips on your own, his skin against yours. You needed to taste him. 

So, you broke your kiss, moving your lips down to-

⧫⧫⧫

His throat.

Of course you would go for the throat. 

You were relentless, kissing the skin of his neck like you were on a mission - like you were seeking out the weak points in his guard. The points that would bring him to his knees. The way you worked your mouth was not entirely different from the way you worked with knives, he was learning. Brutal, efficient and deadly. The difference was cruelty. You were never cruel with your blades. With blades, you had a job to get done, and you accomplished it quickly. Without malice. 

With your mouth, though . . .

He drew in a sharp breath as he felt you close your lips around his pulse point and suck the skin into your mouth. Were you trying to leave a mark? He thought, and it made his heart beat ever faster. Surely you weren’t. Surely you wouldn’t. 

But the thought of it . . .

You stopped the effort, and then Leon could only shiver as your tongue smoothed over where your mouth had just been, and he shivered. 

“Oh, god-” he breathed. 

He was silenced a moment later with a kiss, searing and fierce. Then, you pulled just a heartbeat away and-

⧫⧫⧫

“You’ve gotta be quiet, pretty boy.” 

Your warning was whispered, your lips brushing against his as you said it. It was the last thing you wanted to tell him to do. In a perfect world, you would have him moaning the sounds he made that day when you pulled his hair. You would have savored those whines like the sweetest song in the world.

But you were on base, and you had a goal, and you couldn’t afford discovery. Not now. 

Besides, as much as you wanted to hear Leon’s sounds . . . you could settle for the way he looked at you through the dark when you gave your order. You didn’t need to be able to see the finer details of his face to know he was blushing. You could feel it in the heaviness of his breathing, in the way his hands held you like he was afraid this was a dream he’d wake up from. 

But it wasn’t a dream. 

No dream could have prepared you or him for the way your tongues felt against each other. Or the way the heat of your bodies mixed together . . .

⧫⧫⧫

. . . Or the way he shuddered when he felt your hand press between his legs, palming him through the rough material of his fatigues. 

He had to bite back his moan because you’ve gotta be quiet, pretty boy. 

Luckily, you kissed him again, and then he was free to groan into your mouth, trusting that it would muffle the sound enough. He was all too pleased when you answered with a soft sound of your own. Then, you pulled away just enough to whisper to him. “You still sure you want this?” you asked, and your voice was ragged. Desperate. 

“Fuck yes,” he nodded, breathing hard. How could his answer be anything else? How could you think he would give any other response when he pressed his hips against you, meeting your strength with his own and oh god he’d not thought it would feel this good. His dreams and imaginings hadn’t done it justice, because nothing could compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to you, just as immovable as the wall you pressed him against. “Do you? Still want this?” He still found it in himself to check in - to ask if you wanted this, just as you had. 

You answered him with a tone that sent a twinge of dark excitement through him. “I thought that was fairly obvious.” And it was. You wanted him. The world had taken so much from him, but this? This moment? It was his. It was yours.

He wanted more. He wanted you to feel blood rush through you, just as it rushed through him. 

His own hand moved down from your hip, and his mind a mess of emotion and thought because he just wanted to touch you. To feel you. And he nearly got there before-

⧫⧫⧫

You caught his wrist and pinned it against the wall at his side. 

Not yet. 

You had to do this first. Had to take care of him. Even as he broke the kiss to speak. “I want to-”

“Not yet.” You weren’t going to be argued with. This was what you wanted. What you needed. You needed to pay him back for everything. For your being so cold at first. For avoiding him. For making your past his problem so many times. For not being strong enough. 

And you needed to be in control of something, and as he looked into your eyes, you knew that he understood. He always did. 

You slipped your tongue into his mouth as thanks, and started to move your hand against him harder, feeling the shape of him. Feeling him harden at your touch. It wasn’t enough, and so you let go of Leon’s wrist, moving to undo his pants. He sucked in a breath as he realized what was happening, and you broke the kiss to look at him. To read his reaction. To savor it as best you could in the dark. 

Leon took the opportunity, and soon enough-

⧫⧫⧫

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck. 

He understood if you wanted to be in control. He knew why you would need that, but he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted to feel as much of you as he could, to see what reactions he could pull from you. 

And when you hummed at the feeling, Leon felt a surge of pride. It spurred him onwards, his mouth tracing new paths down your throat, his breath hot and shaky against you. But you were letting him do it for a reason. He knew it in his bones, and he knew it was because your hands were occupied at his hips. The anticipation of that was enough to make him work fast, seeking your pulse point, your collarbone - anything that would bring a response out of you. Anything that would make you feel good. 

But you had other priorities than your own pleasure, it seemed.

Leon felt the night air at his waist. He felt a warm hand slip past fabric and then-

⧫⧫⧫

He whimpered when you wrapped your hand around him, loud and breathy and perfect. 

You could have listened to that sound every moment for the rest of your life, were you anywhere else. As it was, your free hand clamped over his mouth an instant later, and his eyes widened. 

“What did I say about being quiet?” you whispered with a disbelieving smile, shaking your head. You were both still for a moment, trying to determine if anyone had heard him. If you would have to retreat into the night and continue another day. 

After a moment, you felt certain enough that no one had heard. 

And in that moment, you looked back at Leon, realizing you still had one hand over his mouth, and the other . . . 

Oh, he was looking at you like you held his whole damn life in your hands. And that sent a rush of dark, delicious power through you. 

“Can you stay quiet for me, baby?” you asked, your voice low. You stroked him slow, and he held back a sound. Then, he nodded, holding your eye contact against the dark. 

⧫⧫⧫

He needed you to move. To believe him. 

I’ll be quiet. 

Silent as the grave. 

Just move your hand-

“Alright then,” you nodded, and then things began in earnest. One hand remained at his mouth, and Leon held onto you, hips and shoulder. Bracing against you as you pulled one of his dreams into reality and you traced up and down him.

Your hand-

Oh, god, your hand . . .

The touches had him shivering, pleasure running up and down his spine like something was nipping at its heels. He watched you as best he could but found it a losing effort because it was hard to see you when you leaned back in to kiss his neck. You didn’t let him make a sound; your palm still pressed hard against his lips. Even if he couldn’t vocalize it, you knew damn well what you were doing to him. 

⧫⧫⧫

You knew it by the little vibrations against your hand - sounds that were trapped in Leon’s mouth, unable to escape past your grasp. You knew it in the hot breath that washed against your knuckles, in the rising of his chest. You knew it in the movements of his body, the way he pushed against you, craving something you had both imagined for so long. 

But you weren’t imagining anymore, and you weren’t going to let some half-baked daydreams outdo you. 

So, you let your hand fall away from his mouth, and then you started kissing down his chest. Down past his sternum, the fabric of his shirt warm from the skin underneath, and you wished he wasn’t wearing it. You wished you could kiss and lick and bite at his skin as you traveled down. 

Down. 

Down.

⧫⧫⧫

Down.

Leon took a shaky breath as he realized where you were going. What you were doing. 

Every kiss down his chest was a trail of fire, and he knew as he felt his skin warm to a fever pitch that the blaze was going to engulf him. 

Then you reached his waist, and Leon’s breath caught in his throat. 

He couldn’t really put a name to the first thing he felt, because it was more a jumble of thoughts than anything else. A string of oh god oh god yes please oh god that danced about his head as you pulled him free of the confines of his pants. He could only bite his lip as he looked down at you, your face shadowed, and he knew only that you could have asked him to do anything in that moment and he would have. You could have asked him to face down the world, and he would do it without flinching. 

But he knew what you were really asking, as you paused there, your hand still moving against him but the rest of your focus upward. On him. 

Do you want this? That was the unspoken question as you looked up at him. 

The answer was immediate. 

⧫⧫⧫

“Please,” you heard Leon whisper, and fucking hell you knew you needed more of that. More of him breathlessly asking you to bring him bliss. 

But you needed this more, because you’ve been waiting for this moment. 

You needed to move fast, as much as you wanted to take your time with him. To learn every secret his body kept. The thought of it made your insides warm - burn - and your mind was begging you to continue just as much as Leon was. 

So, you started by leaning in, and found that he was hot against your lips. Hot and hard and your kisses drew sighs from him. Your tongue was next, and you were certain that he’d break your rule of silence as he swallowed down a groan. He was breathing hard, but so were you. You tried to keep it under control as you dragged your tongue along him, making a map of him. He trembled as you reached his tip, and you thought he was going to cry out. 

But he’d always been strong. He turned the sound into a long exhale, and you smiled. 

That’s a good boy. 

But that had only been the beginning. He knew it as much as you did, so he tried to brace himself. You could feel it as you ran your hands up his tensing thighs. He was trying to be ready. It was an effort you appreciated, but he’d always had a hard time defending against you. 

And in that moment, you didn’t intend to be anything less than ruthless. 

So, you gave him no warning as your lips parted and then-

⧫⧫⧫

Your mouth was on him, and Leon was sure of one thing only: it wouldn’t be your knives that would be the death of him. It would be this. It would be your lips and your tongue and it’s all he can do not to cry out at the feeling of you taking him in. His teeth sank into the inside of his mouth, and his hands clutched at you - your shirt and the back of your head - and he somehow managed to maintain control. 

When you started to move, to slide your lips up and down him at a torturous pace, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to maintain that control. 

“Holy shit-” he whispered, because he has to say something. He had to let you know how good you’re making him feel, and he wasn’t sure that looking down at you through the darkness would be enough. 

You had to know. 

You had to know how desperately he needed this. How completely and entirely enraptured he was by you. 

“God, you’re-” he stopped because there’s no word to do it justice. Besides, you took your mouth off of him for a moment to hold a finger to your lips. 

Quiet. 

All he could do was nod, and then his head fell back against the wall behind him as you resumed your work.

⧫⧫⧫

You were going to drive him over the edge. You promised him and yourself that as you moved, letting yourself be pulled down to the depths, refusing to come up for air. You just looked up at him, the moon highlighting him, so you could see his head thrown back, his lips parted in a silent prayer. 

You were no god, but you would answer that prayer. So, you hollowed your cheeks, letting your eyes fall closed and your mind run blank. 

Mercifully, blissfully blank. 

In that moment there was no past. No future. 

Only now, you and Leon, and the dark that you hid away in. The dark where you would give him everything you had. So, you moved fast, humming around him softly, each moment only making you hungry for-

⧫⧫⧫

More.

God, he needed more, and you gave it to him. You took him so well, your hand reaching where your mouth couldn’t, and every quiet groan from you was an earthquake. Thunder that shook him to his bones. He couldn’t help but move, trying to be gentle as he grabbed the back of your head, more to hold on than to guide you. You didn’t need guidance. You knew what you wanted. How to get it. 

And Leon just held on, hips moving faster and faster, finding it harder and harder to breathe. It wasn’t long before he felt himself approaching that edge, razor sharp and promising oblivion if he fell. 

Your fingers dug into his hips, and he couldn’t help himself. 

⧫⧫⧫

He whispered your name, and you felt the sound run through you - a bullet to the heart. Fast and final. You wished he hadn’t, because it sounded so . . . 

You didn’t let yourself think about how reverently he said it. How it had been less a name and more a wish. His next words - or word, rather - were easier to stomach. 

“I-” he stammered, doing his best to keep his voice down. You didn’t need him to complete the sentence. You knew. 

And you weren’t going to let up. You’d been taught to press the offensive if victory was in sight. And this was a victory you wished to savor the taste of. So, you grunted, setting a more brutal pace, and you felt Leon shake against the wall. You had never wanted to see someone come undone the way you did then. Never in all your life. And so, you went on, never letting him go, even as he tried to warn you that-

⧫⧫⧫

He was close. So close. 

He was all desperate sighs and clenched hands, his teeth grinding together to keep himself quiet. It felt good - so, so good. Better than any dream. Any fantasy. Because it was real. It was you. 

You.

That was what finally sent him over that edge - a glance down towards you in the dark. He caught the shine of the moonlight in your eyes as you took him deep, and then he was seeing stars there, too. In your eyes, on your face, in the air all around him. He came hard and he wanted to scream your name into the night sky. You must have been prepared for that, because the moan that threatened to break free from him was silenced as you reached a hand up, your hand clamping over his mouth just in time. 

Your own mouth didn’t move from him, though. You didn’t stop, even as he spilled down your throat, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against it all. 

You were perfect. 

This was-

⧫⧫⧫

Perfect.

That was all you could think as you drank him down, straining to keep your hand at his mouth while the other rested at his hip, steadying him. You watched him in the dim light as he finished, getting lost in the strain of his neck and the crease in his brow. You could feel him whimpering against your palm, and you hummed in response, low and hushed and more caring than you intended. 

And when it was done, when you let him fall from your lips and pulled your hand away from his mouth, his hands were grasping at you, pulling you up to your feet. 

His lips were on yours then, and-

⧫⧫⧫

He didn’t care that he could taste himself in the kiss. He didn’t care that he could hardly breathe as he smashed his lips against yours. 

It was a long kiss. Slower than the previous ones, but deep and true. All that he wanted was to show you his appreciation, near boneless and quivering as it was. And when you groaned into the kiss, like he’d caught you off guard, he felt pride swell above the bliss-induced exhaustion. Pride and then a gratefulness that nearly brought him to his knees.

You had taken him away from it all, if only for a few moments. He hadn’t been here, on base. He’d been somewhere nameless and shapeless, just the two of you. It was the greatest gift you could have given him; he was sure.

And it would be wrong of him not to return the favor. 

⧫⧫⧫

You felt his hand move down to your waist. Your hips. His lips moved, too. Down to your neck, hungry and wanting. 

“Where you going there, Kennedy?” you murmured, stroking him a few more times before you would have to hide him away again behind his pants. At least, that was what you intended to do. You intended to leave it at that, more than satisfied with your own performance for the evening. 

It seems that Leon, despite the way he’d trembled and shook and finished, was not yet satiated. 

“I think you know where,” he said, and you could practically feel him grin against your throat. 

You would be a liar if you said you didn’t want what he implied. Working your mouth over him had left need building between your legs, and you wanted nothing more than to let him unwind that tangle with his hands. His tongue. 

But this wasn’t about what you wanted. 

“I can wait,” you said, and you hated the words. 

Leon answered them quickly. “But you shouldn’t have to.” He sounded so earnest. So damn sincere. 

“You want someone to see?” you asked, fighting his wants as much as your own. Because the longer the two of you lingered here, the more risks you took, the more likely you would be discovered. You knew it and Leon knew it. 

The difference was that he didn’t care. “I want to do this for you,” he insisted, pulling away from your neck, and looking into your eyes. At least it was dark out. At least you couldn’t fully see that meaningful look you knew he was giving you. Your resolve was already weak enough as it was. That only got worse as he went on, his words a whisper and his breath gently brushing your skin. “I want you to feel something good, just for a little while.” 

“. . . You’re so sure it’ll be good?” you found yourself asking with a smirk. 

You were a fool for this. For indulging him. But you would be damned if you let yourself walk away from him now. 

Leon’s teeth glinted in the low light as he smiled. “Pretty sure.” 

Goddamn it. 

“You’d better be quick then, pretty boy.” Your hand found his hair, and he groaned as you pulled him towards your mouth once more. 

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Chapter Index

A/N: HO BOY y'all I put in extra hours at the factory to pull this one off.

Anyway, yes the title is a Hozier song cause like . . . listen to "Moment's Silence" and you'll know why. And for those of you who like the song recs, other songs that I listened to while writing this one were "Streets" by Doja Cat, "Holiest" by Glass Animals, "Gibson Girl" by Ethel Cain and another Hozier banger, "To Be Alone". Because all of these songs are certified vibes and I would respectfully rock Leon's world to them, too.

[w1ldthoughts]

Can you do a second part of killer cravings, where the readers water breaks, goes into labor and goes through birth that would be great please and thanks. :) (:

A/n: Buckle up this is a lengthy one…but probably the cutest thing I’ve ever written. Glad you enjoyed the previous one-shot! Thank you for requesting this anon I thoroughly enjoyed writing it :)

Here is my Masterlist with my other work and requests/asks are always welcome!

Warning: pregnancy and childbirth, nausea, mention of getting sick, a LOT of fluff

Little Duckling

Saturday 10pm

Justin had been asleep for almost two hours as you folded laundry and put it away in the nursery. Your induction was scheduled for Monday morning promptly at 8am and everyone within the Chargers organization knew that this was happening because your husband absolutely hated taking the day off. But this was understandably a special exception to the rule. You’d spent the last 9 months mentally and physically preparing yourself for this moment but the idea of having a human being relying on you for everything was still such a daunting task that you almost wished the day wouldn’t come.

And then the ache in your back and hips reminded you that your baby girl was quickly running out of room and would be making her entrance soon, whether you and your husband were ready or not. On the bright side, your stomach had dropped significantly in the last few days, allowing you to breathe easier and for Justin to poke fun at your pronounced waddle. He affectionately started calling you Mumble last week, from Happy Feet. The dad jokes were coming in strong.

You heaved yourself out of the chair you were parked in and were headed off to bed before a slight pain wrapped itself around the base of your stomach. The pressure moved from your back and hips, traveling to the area just underneath your belly button. You stopped walking and used the wall to support yourself, rubbing small circles around the area until it passed. As a Braxton-Hicks veteran, you continued your trek to the bedroom, completed your nighttime routine and headed off to bed.

Sunday 2am

It happened again, this twinge of discomfort that had you holding your breath for about 15 seconds before it released you and you had to take several deep breaths to recover. After a few minutes everything was normal again and you had to turn behind you to make sure that Justin was still asleep. Throughout your pregnancy he’d become a much lighter sleeper, often waking up at ungodly hours to get you snacks or a few nights when you caught him talking to your belly, whether it was talking about the playbook or just telling her he couldn’t wait to meet her, it warmed your heart just the same. But you were thankful for now that he just missed that entire exchange because you were definitely not in labor…right?

Sunday 7am

You were definitely in labor. On a Sunday, when the Chargers were playing the Chiefs at home. Of course. You’d experienced three contractions so far, four hours apart so you had plenty of time. There was no way in hell you were telling Justin. As soon as it was appropriate, you scooted yourself out of bed and went down to the home gym for some prenatal yoga for a good stretch and hopefully a boost of positive energy. Then you hopped in the shower, hoping the warm water would relax your tense muscles and maybe help you delay the inevitable.

By 8:30 Justin was awake and making breakfast for the two of you while you sat on the couch watching New Girl. He brought your plate and a cup of orange juice to you which you were grateful for, but the thought of putting anything but the juice in your body made your stomach turn.

“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched your avocado toast and you’ve been devouring it the last few days.” He ran a gentle hand on your forehead to check your temperature and tucked some hair behind your ear. “I can make you something else before I leave if you want?”

“No, I’m fine! Just not hungry yet, I’ll probably eat later.” You lied through your teeth, desperately hoping that he would let it go. The excuse seemed to satisfy him enough for him to head back upstairs to watch some film and get ready. An hour and a half later, he headed downstairs just in time to find you stretching out your back, a cramp beginning to wash over you.

He replaced your hands with his own, slightly lifting your stomach to take the weight off for a bit. “Your stomach is hard as a rock,” he observed furrowing his brows and starting to piece things together.

“Yeah I’m having a fake contraction, you know they’re so common these days.” You rushed out, attempting to use his extensive research against him.

Although he nods his head in understanding, his face is full of distress. “I know, I just hate the thought of you being in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You tap his wrist so he can slowly drop your belly and you turn around in his arms. “You’re so cute, but it really isn’t that bad. A lot less painful than playing with fractured rib cartilage for two months I can tell you that.” You chuckle at his struggle a few years ago, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Here’s what’s gonna happen today though. You are going to go and kick the Chiefs’ ass then you’re going to come home, we’ll celebrate and then tomorrow you’ll be on your way to being the greatest dad to ever live. How does that sound?”

Justin chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips, nose and forehead. “If I’m half as good a parent as I know you’ll be, then I know I’ll be golden.”

“Stop it before I start crying, you know I’m super hormonal right now this isn’t fair.” You mumble, tears brimming your eyes. He gives you one last kiss before reminding you to call your friend Dani to stay with you, even though your moms were on their way to your home.

Once he pulled out of the driveway you could relax, letting out a deep sigh and patting your swollen middle. Crisis averted.

Sunday 12pm

Contractions were officially every hour and Dani was trying her best not to freak out in order not to freak you out. But she was definitely freaking out. What started out as more intense period cramps were becoming a lot sharper, so much so that you couldn’t even enjoy Encanto, which made you sad. You did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take a nap while she was with you, fluffing your pillows and telling you that you were doing amazing. Three hours later, there was a knock at the door and Dani went to open it for Holly and your mom. The two becoming best friends was probably the cutest thing in the world and your mom had even flown to Oregon three days before just to spend time with Holly and drive to California with her. They were the sweetest. And of course they brought snacks. There were lactation cookies for you in the freezer already but they brought more and they brought an abundance of food to eat during the game, which usually would have you celebrating but today made you want to stick your face in the toilet.

You greeted the two women with hugs as Dani helped set up their spread and they immediately asked how you were feeling.

“I just woke up not too long ago so I’m feeling great now, ready to not be pregnant anymore so I can see my f—ohhh wow. Ow.” You groaned, one hand on your contracting belly and the other gripping the counter for dear life.

Dani’s eyes bug out of her head as she moves to rub your back. “That was the roughest one yet.” She was right, this one left your whole body sore and let you know that things were definitely moving along.

“That one?” Your mom questions, looking between you and Dani. Then, she and Holly exchange a look.

“Oh my gosh sweetie, you’re in labor!” Holly exclaims, “we need to get a hold of Justin immediately, I’ll call Mark I’m sure he’s already at the stadium.”

You cannot shake your head fast enough, “we don’t need to call him yet, that was the first bad one. And this game is important.”

“It’s Justin hun, every game is important,” Holly laughs, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. “But you know what’s even more important to him? You and that baby girl that’s getting ready to see us soon, are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?”

“I’m sure,” you sigh, allowing your mom to guide you back to the couch, settling down with a groan. “Once the game is over he’ll be here and we’ll go have a baby. But not a moment before.”

Admittedly, it was getting harder to focus. Justin was playing great, but of course so was Patrick Mahomes. The Chargers would score and the Chiefs would answer. The Chiefs would get a stop and the Chargers would force a punt. But the battle within you was the most interesting one to the people in your house.

Your mom had gone down to find your birthing ball, which helped for about half a quarter, just in time for a Quentin Johnston touchdown to put the Chargers up by 10. By the end of the third you were forced into a squat behind one of the couches, spreading your legs to hopefully ease the increasing pressure on your hips. Holly made sure you stayed hydrated, having secretly texted her husband halfway through the fourth quarter when the game was firmly in hand to have their son home as soon as humanly possible. Contractions creeped on 30 minutes apart, leaving you panting and groaning in discomfort until your muscles relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, you were pacing around the living room and you had to stop to hold onto the couch again, your mom helping you roll your hips as you felt thin beads of sweat building around your hairline. Things were getting real and scary and you needed Justin.

“What time is it?” You murmured, cupping your stomach with a hiss as the baby moved.

“It’s 7:15 and he’s on his way home, baby.” Your mom whispers, sensing your increasing distress, “he’ll be here soon.”

Time was not a construct you were familiar with anymore, Dani was in charge of timing contractions and all you knew was the moment in between them where you could actually speak. You headed upstairs for some time to yourself and a wave of nausea hit you and you emptied probably everything you’d eaten the entire day, which in hindsight probably wasn’t much. But you weren’t in the headspace to think clearly right now. You walked back to the bedroom and clutched the doorway, visibly feeling the heaviness of the baby moving down, almost sending you to your knees if it weren’t for the solid, calming presence that was suddenly in front of you.

“Hey babe.” You breathe out, your legs still feeling shaky.

He pulled you into his arms as close as your belly would allow and kissed your forehead. “Hi. Glad I could make it back in time, I knew something was off with you this morning,” he narrowed his eyebrows at you when he pulled away, walking you slowly back into the room. “How long have you been in labor? We can be honest now.”

You let out a dry laugh, “since 10 last night I think? But let’s focus on the important things, you played great and you won but Jesus you guys really took a minute to shut the door on ‘em.”

“Right, the important things. I know you love football as much as I do now, but you know if you told me earlier I would’ve been at your side in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

God, you hoped your baby had his caring heart. “I do know. But I also knew that you’d be able to do both. The Chargers are your family too and—”

A contraction creeped up on you, leaving you to hold onto your husband’s forearms with a sharp sound of pain, the pressure reaching an overwhelming peak that you hadn’t experienced before.

“Squeeze as much as you want, it’s okay.” His voice attempts to soothe you but you couldn’t hear him over the animalistic grunt that escaped you. Your body tensed involuntarily and he could see your stomach hardening as the tension continued to build. There was nothing more he could do than hold you through it, until something gave way and the floodgates opened…literally.

“Your water just broke.” He said with a smile.

Sunday 10pm

Contractions in the house were terrible. But contractions in the car, with no cushion from the water bag made it feel like she was right between your legs.

“Justin, you have to go faster. Please.” You panted out, desperately clutching the grab handle and leaning your head back with a loud moan. “Can you turn on the air, I’m fucking dying in here. And I need to put the seat back, my back is killing me.” You felt guilty for whining but you also like a turtle stuck on its back, waiting for someone to turn it over and set it free. You were basically at his mercy right now and the look on his face explained the situation perfectly.

“Yeah, yeah do whatever you need. Whatever makes you comfortable, we’ll be there soon.” He patted your leg lovingly, constantly looking between you and the road, slightly worried that he’d have to deliver the baby in the car. When you let out another groan of pain, his grip on the steering wheel tightened and remained that way until the birthing center came into view. Your parents had called ahead and would meet you there when given the word, so all you had to do was check in and you were brought to your private suite.

Seven centimeters dilated and without painkillers made your husband question any football toughness he thought he had. You were so close to meeting your baby and he was a mix of anxiousness, nerves and excitement. But most of all he felt so much love and admiration for your determination and strength. Holding off on telling him you were in labor so he could be there to get the job done with his teammates was one thing but it was a complete whirlwind to be there with you while you worked your ass off to bring your baby into the world.

The two of you decided to use gravity to your advantage and walk around the building since the entire floor was closed off at your husband’s request. You needed the privacy. He couldn’t risk anyone leaking the most cherished moment of his life.

“I can’t believe this is our last night as a duo.” Justin whispers, walking at a snail’s pace while you waddled alongside him. “It’s been a great ride, pal.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And I have a feeling this ride is going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.” You gave your belly a soothing pat.

He strokes your back as you sway your hips again, “thank you for choosing me to be the one that gets to do this with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, more than anything in the world.” You grin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hand cups your face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss oozed joy and gratitude. Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes.

You squeeze his arm again suddenly as pain bubbles deep in your core and you rip yourself away from him to press your lips together to stifle a yell. “We need to get back to the room. Now.”

The noises leaving your body would have horrified you if you weren’t already sitting backwards on the toilet wearing only an oversized t-shirt, with your legs spread and the man of your dreams digging his thumbs into your back. “Harder please,” you groan, feeling like your tailbone is seconds away from shattering.

“I’m not getting a break,” you cry, leaning back and asking him to help you up. He hooks his hands under your arms and basically lifts you to your feet. “It’s not stopping, I can’t—oh fuck.” You were either about to have the biggest bowel movement of your life or…

“She’s coming—she’s coming right now Justin I have to push.” That was all you could manage before the urge took over and your body wasn’t your own. You held onto one of his hands and moved into a squat as he pressed the red button on the side of the bathroom door, allowing your midwife to come in.

Pushing felt good, even though it left you shaking like a leaf in a cold and sweaty frenzy. It was the most intense experience of your life but you took one look at those grey-green eyes. The owner of them kissed your hand and reminded you that he was with you the entire time and you knew you could do anything with him by your side.

Remington Grace Herbert was born Monday morning at 1:42am with those exact same eyes that you fell in love with.

“Hi Remi,” Justin sobs, kissing her cheek. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you, baby girl.”

“She sure knows how to make an entrance.”

You hand her off to her dad after scooting over to give him more room on the bed. He wraps a free arm around you, securely holding her in his other one, totally in awe. “She’s so perfect, you’re perfect. You did so amazing, I’m so freaking proud of you.” He kisses the side of your head.

You cuddle into him with a content sigh, “Our perfect little duckling is finally here.”

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 30)

WARNING: NSFW/Mentions of sex

A/N: AHH alright, so I'm kind of losing it. It's genuinely hard to believe that A Lion in the Garden is over, or at least plot wise anyways. Because yes, I am going to go back and edit, along with adding new chapters into the main plotline to help with pacing and all that, but this is the end of Lady Tyrell and Tywin’s story and it is honestly making me emotional. I started this story in late November, and in the last six months I’ve written about 170,000 words about these two, which is around 300 pages the way that I have it formatted in google docs. So, needless to say, this has been quite the journey for me and also for all of you who have been reading as I publish. And a giant thank you to everyone who’s shown support for my story, because even when I was busy or lacking motivation, knowing that there were at least a few people desperate for the next chapter made me keep working, and now I’m here. Anyways, with all that said, please enjoy the last chapter and know that I am so grateful for all my readers <3

—————

To finally be in the tower of the hand was a blessing. I had spent no less than three hours in the great hall, and if I’d been stuck there any longer I might’ve gone mad. Thankfully, Tywin knew me well enough to know that my patience was wearing thin, and had distracted a few lords so I could slip away. 

It was about 10:00 when I made it back to our chambers, and instantly I collapsed on one of the sofas in Tywin’s bedroom, removing my shoes with a sigh. I massaged my feet and ankles, tired after quite literally standing still for hours on end. If I had been walking the whole time it would’ve been fine, but it was like I had been stuck.

“King Tywin Lannister…” I muttered to myself, getting up from the sofa and going over to the mirror. I could’ve rang for Cerella, but it was late, and the last thing I wanted was to be rude. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could tolerate a conversation right now. All I wanted was to let my hair down, remove my gown, and fall asleep.

No, that wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted Tywin beside me too. 

But he probably wouldn’t have the chance to join me until much later, and I couldn’t wait for him. Sighing, I grabbed at the pins in my hair, taking them out and running my fingers through it afterwards. It had not relieved my headache as much as I had hoped. 

I reached backward then, watching myself in the mirror as I undid my dress. I suddenly wished that Tywin had dressed me in red this morning, for at least I could’ve felt connected to him that way. The entire day—though not purposefully, of course—he had been so distant, and now all I wanted was to feel like he was with me. 

My dress fell to the floor, and I undid the rest of my unnecessary undergarments with a sigh of relief. I turned to go towards the dresser and find a nightgown, but I noticed that one had already been laid out on a chair. I was unable to hold back a smile, grabbing my gown and other undergarments from the floor and folding them as neatly as I could. Cerella had known me well enough to understand that I wouldn’t want to speak to anybody at this hour, and so she had set out my nightgown in advance. Gods, I loved her. 

I set my clothes down on the chair, taking the nightgown in my hands once I had and slipping into it. I found that I dearly missed the warm nights that Tywin and I had spent nude, lazily sprawled out under the thin silk sheets. The nights had become colder, and soon the days would too. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the ravens came from the citadel. Then the blankets and furs on our bed would pile, and I would press myself closer against him. Perhaps that was not so unfortunate. 

I slipped into bed, pulling the blanket up to the bottom of my neck and finding a comfortable position. I settled into the mattress with a sigh, my head sinking into the pillow with a sort of relief. It was odd, however, to be falling asleep without Tywin by my side. The bed felt too light without him, and I wondered if I would be able to sleep without the sound of his breathing beside me. 

King Tywin Lannister.

Everytime I found myself drifting off, that came back to me. It was still such a shocking concept, and I wanted it to feel normal more than anything. For some reason, though, I simply couldn’t make it sound correct. Queen (Y/N) Tyrell. 

A small shiver went up my back, and I had to turn onto my other side in bed. I kept hoping for the sound of Tywin’s boots outside the door, but they would not come. It was almost funny to me, how much comfort was derived from a man that plenty of people considered an insufferable cunt. Myself included, let it be known. 

And yet still, I felt restless without him. I had a million questions to ask, and a million reassurances I wished to receive. Although, I guessed he was worse off than I was, probably surrounded by far too many noblemen… and noblewomen.

Now I was lying on my back, a sort of jealousy sparking in me and making my body go hot. Never before had I ever felt that somebody would try and disrupt my relationship with Tywin, but if he was to be king, surely the title of queen looked appealing to many ladies. Just as I was certain the concept of birthing little princes and princesses did.

Would Tywin want children now? His relationship with Tyrion had improved, yes, but would he go so far as to put him on the throne? I wondered if that was better or worse than Casterly Rock. But that was only for a moment, because the idea of heirs was most important. I knew for certain that the titles of prince and princess had not changed my feelings, but sometimes Tywin was hard to predict. Although, if I hadn’t been so tired and my head not so clouded, I would’ve known instantly that his opinion upon the subject had not changed.

Eventually, this train of thought became so tiring that it no longer made sense, and the words in my head were not coherent any longer, especially as I had turned back onto my side and closed my eyes once more. My breathing had begun to slow as well, and slowly but surely I drifted off.

In my dreams, I was on the battlefield. I somehow knew that Tywin was there, but I did not see him. The other odd thing was that it had been snowing, and it was somewhat reminiscent of Winterfell. It was unlike any battle I'd ever been in.

—————

Tywin was utterly exhausted. He had been in constant discussion ever since you’d left the hall, and it was now approaching 2:00 in the morning. He was making his way up the tower of the hand, already grasping at the top of his coat and undoing the clips. It was unlike him to undress anywhere besides his chambers, but gods he couldn’t help it. 

All he wanted was to slip into bed beside your warm body and hold you close, because just as you needed his support, he needed yours. He was not an overly emotional person, but he could admit that to feel you in his arms would relieve the unbearable amount of stress he had accumulated in the last 24 hours. He had single handedly made House Lannister the most powerful and placed them on the throne; it was truly a wonder. 

Tywin did not bother looking at the guards outside his door when he entered his office, he only pushed the door open with a slight sigh and carefully shut it behind him. It wouldn’t have been enough to wake you up regardless, but it was so quiet that he did not want to disturb the silence.

He fully shrugged off his coat now, draping it over his arm as he went towards the bedroom door. That one was handled carefully too, opened and closed as softly as was possible. There were a few dim candles lit, but overall the room was quite dark. He could see you, though, lying in bed with your face turned toward the door. 

The candles were behind you for the most part, and it gave your figure a pleasant outline. Although, your face was partly buried in the pillow, and an odd feeling of guilt ran through Tywin. Had you been crying? 

He took light steps across the room, placing his coat down on the same chair that you had left your gown. He sat down in another, reaching down to pull off his boots with a soft groan. Once he had done that, he untucked his shirt from his pants and then continued to strip. Tywin found his black robe in the dresser and promptly slipped it over his head, periodically looking over to make sure you were still asleep.

Entirely ready to sleep now, he approached your side of the bed. He lifted his hand to your face, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheek. It did not feel as though you had been crying, but it was impossible to tell. He felt the pillowcase too, and was reassured by the dryness there. No, you had not been crying. 

Quietly, Tywin made his way around the bed until he reached his side, carefully lifting the blankets and getting in with as little disruption as was possible. You seemed relatively undisturbed by the shifting of the mattress, and he knew he had not woken you. Tywin laid on his back with a quiet sigh, feeling utterly relieved to finally be in bed and alone. It felt like being alone, at least, for your company was never disruptive to him.

He had been drifting to sleep, but was suddenly startled by a jolting beside him. When Tywin opened his eyes, he saw you shake beside him. He moved to reach over and hold you, but you had shot straight up with a gasp, and he could see a sort of fear in your eyes.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” He asked, having to clear his throat as he sat up and placed his hands on your arms. You looked over at him—as if processing that he was there—and then nodded. Something had clearly started you. “A bad dream?” he questioned, gently cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead to his lips. 

“Yes, y-yes. It was just a bad dream,” you whispered in reply, swallowing. The way you said it gave the odd impression that you were trying to remind yourself of it, not that you were telling Tywin. He gave you a sympathetic look, though you did not notice.

“Come, sweet girl. Let us sleep,” Tywin whispered, slowly coaxing you back down to the mattress. He sighed out airily when you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He could feel your stress and uncertainty being relieved as you held him, and he could not keep himself from holding you with the same ferocity. 

Tywin clutched at you, wrapping his arms entirely around you and pressing you to his body as much as was physically possible. He knew he wouldn’t, but there was an odd desire in him to sob. He did not want to be the king, all he wanted was to remain here with you.

“Oh Tywin…” you muttered, inhaling his scent with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Your own scent was simultaneously giving him the same feeling. You had begun to nuzzle into him, too, much as a lion would. In response, his hand had come to your hair, cupping your head as one does for an infant. It had come from some sort of protective instinct, and even knowing that there was nothing to fear, Tywin would not let go. 

His queen.

With both of you feeling utterly at peace in each other's arms, it did not take long to fall asleep. You had drifted off first, and the sound of your tired breathing had sent Tywin to sleep right after you. He had been so glad to hold you, and perhaps even a bit happy that you were tired and disoriented, for you had asked no questions. Those would come in the morning, he knew. 

Tywin would happily answer them then, but for now, all he wanted was sleep. And with you wrapped up in his arms, that was no strenuous task at all.

—————

Tywin had woken up before me, though he had not left our bed. When I opened my eyes, I understood that I was cuddled against his chest. However, when I looked up at his face, he was already smiling down at me.

“Goodmorning, my dear,” he said, his voice a bit deeper and harsher than usual. He must’ve not been up for long. I smiled, adjusting myself and sitting up slightly before reaching over to kiss him. Tywin gave a soft hum against my lips, hand coming to my hair as he kissed me back. The mornings that he got to stay in bed with me were always the best ones.

“Goodmorning, Tywin. What time did you come to bed last night?” I questioned, laying back down and resting my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand lifting my nightgown, and then suddenly his warm palm against my hip. He loved to feel the skin there, for some odd reason. Though, I would never complain, for I loved it too.

“Far too late. I only managed to escape the great hall at 2:00. Your nightmare woke up just after I came to bed,” he said, resting his chin on my head. I furrowed my eyebrows, as I did not remember waking from my dreams. I had experienced a nightmare, yes, but waking up because of it? I certainly could not recall that. Well, it was of no importance.

“I see. If you’d really wanted to, you would’ve left much earlier,” I said, knowing him better than that. Tywin Lannister would never do something he didn’t want to. At least not something like that.

“It would have been inappropriate.”

“Oh yes, I’m certain.”

I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous my husband managed to be. I suspected not a man like him had ever lived, nor ever would again. It was almost comical, for Tywin Lannister was rarer than a dragon. 

“We have much to discuss,” Tywin said after a moment, instantly making my smile fade. I could hear in his voice that he similarly did not want to, but felt it necessary. He was right, of course. 

“Yes, we certainly do.”

“What’s most important to me, (Y/N), is that you’re alright. You shook during the ceremony yesterday. It’s all been somewhat overwhelming and sudden, hasn’t it?” He asked softly, one of his hands reaching for mine and holding it. I nodded, sighing out and glancing around the room. 

“I suppose I- well, I hadn’t even considered that you had a claim. For some reason, the only two I had suspected were Jaime and Tyrion, and when I heard men in the hall discussing that it ought to be you, it did shock me. But it’s not you being king which frightens me, it’s the idea of me being queen. I’m nothing like my sister in that regard,” I admitted, suddenly finding one of the tapestries on the wall to be the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. Tywin had it put up after our wedding, and I hadn’t really taken any appropriate amount of time to consider it. There was something so beautiful and erotic about the nude figures, and it was a perfect distraction from my embarrassment.

Tywin suddenly moved beside me, and I realized he wanted to get up from bed. I moved off him, sitting up and watching him quizzically as he went over to a drawer and rummaged around. When he seemingly did not find what he was looking for there, he left the room. I simply waited, absolutely puzzled as to what he was doing. I assumed that like always, he was trying to prove a point.

He came back in with a rather large, rolled up parchment in his hands. He set it down on the table, undoing it and then using books that were already on the table to keep it open. Tywin then turned around and motioned for me to come over. I did so, scooting off the edge of the bed and adjusting my nightgown as I walked over to him.

He had laid out a map on the table, and after a minute it clicked in my head. It was a map of King’s Landing. I raised both eyebrows at him as a signal to explain, knowing he was going to come to a point eventually. 

“As you are aware, the smallfolk of King’s Landing are not entirely fond of me. If I’m to be their king, my reforms must actually have a directly positive impact on their lives. Tell me, how do I improve a city ripe with crime, disease, overcrowding, and homelessness?” Tywin questioned, gesturing to the map he had laid out. I let out a breath that was almost a laugh, feeling that the question was impossible. Staring at the map was not helping me any.

“You cannot improve all of those things single handedly, Tywin. Therefore, I cannot possibly have any ideas that would do such a thing,” I said, knowing that we needed to be realistic in this instance. He still hadn’t come to his point yet, and it was irking me. 

“It’s not single handedly, I have you. But even if I didn’t, that’s not what I mean. Give me a solution to just one of those problems, please,” he said, gazing down at me with a sort of twinkle in his eye. Where was he going with this? I looked at him hesitantly for a moment, but when all I received was an expectant look I knew he was serious.

With a sigh, I turned my eyes to the map once more. Gods, the layout of Kings Landing was absolutely horrendous. It was no wonder that overcrowding was a problem just based on the way that everything was structured. And of course, overcrowding led to disease, so I supposed a solution to the overcrowding would perhaps help that as well. The idea came to me then.

“Tywin, where was Tommen’s carriage destroyed?” I asked, turning to my husband for a moment. His expression was blank, but he pointed down to a certain street on the map.

“Right around here.”

“Well surely that much wildfire must’ve destroyed some of the street and the buildings around it, right?” I questioned, feeling that it must’ve been a completely logical assumption.

“Correct. I was told that these complexes here are practically ruins now, and several of the common folk in them were either seriously injured or killed,” Tywin informed, making my heart sink a bit. To think a religious order had caused such suffering.

“I see. We ought to make sure their families are provided for at the very least, and given reassurances that the sparrows will be held responsible,” I muttered, hearing Tywin give a hum of approval beside me.

“I’ll have Varys see to that.”

“Perhaps I ought to go with him. It will appear more genuine that way. Plus, then I can inspect the site myself. The problem with Kings Landing is that it wasn't built with any particular layout, but if we can slowly rebuild with a more thought out design, then it would be able to more adequately house the smallfolk, and if there’s less overcrowding, that also means less ability for disease to spread. Sickness is bound to spread in large cities, but if we could limit the amount of families living in one house, that ought to help,” I reasoned, continually looking down at the sheet before me and trying to formulate some kind of design in my head based off of what I knew about Highgarden’s layout. Though, King’s Landing was admittedly a much different space.

“And how do you propose we go about building such a thing? To redesign and rebuild the entire city is quite a hefty task. It would displace many,” Tywin pointed out, though I shook my head in disagreement.

“Not if we do it slowly. We could also use the sept to house people, there aren’t any more nobles in need of a marriage that grand so far as I’m concerned. And as we carry it out, we could also hire the smallfolk to help build. It would improve our economy significantly and reduce the amount of unemployed and homeless, especially because the new layout would ideally use the space available most efficiently. I’m no architect or city planner, but I’m certain we could find somebody from the citadel who would be more than helpful with that matter. We ought to focus on agriculture as well, especially with the upcoming winter. It will remain relatively warm enough to plant certain crops, and it would certainly relieve a burden off of Highgarden. Plus, the more jobs available the better,” I rambled, thinking of the endless benefits that redesigning and rebuilding King’s Landing would have. If we could execute it correctly, which I was certain we could, it would be infinitely useful.

When Tywin said nothing, I looked over my shoulder at him. I had leaned over the table subconsciously, both hands spread on the map like I was planning for battle. My husband was smiling rather fondly, and I raised a curious eyebrow. What on earth was making him grin like such a fool?

“A few years ago, (Y/N), when I saw you for the first time since you were 14, I had not a clue what to expect. For a moment, I thought you had remained as immature as you were as a young girl, but you quickly proved me wrong. You had leaned over my table then, just as you are now, and told me that we would be stupid to go through that ravine, because if Stannis sent men in another direction and they realized we were coming, we would’ve been easy to repel. You were admittedly correct, and I understood that you were no longer an inexperienced child. Now you stand here, telling me exactly how we ought to earn the respect of the smallfolk and more than that, how it will be beneficial for all involved. You underestimate yourself, (Y/N), and of all my concerns, you being a good queen is not one of them. You have always been a leader, that won’t change just because the title sounds more intimidating,” Tywin explained, stepping toward me and cupping my face in his hands. My lips parted as I stared up at him, my heart somehow pounding in my chest at the sentiment he was expressing. There was something so indescribable about the way that Tywin managed to reassure me, and I often wondered how it was possible. 

I reached for the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer to me and lifting my head up to show him I wished for a kiss. He chuckled softly, moving his hands from my face and grabbing my hips instead. Tywin bent down, pressing his lips to mine with a noise of satisfaction.

“You’re far too good at that,” I whispered when he pulled away, making his eyebrow raise.

“What, kissing you?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But I meant that you’re far too good at reassuring me. I’m always in my head and you always know how to pull me out,” I said with a smile, unable to look away from my husband for even a moment. Even after all this time I was still so smitten with him.

“It’s because you often do the same for me, even if you don’t realize it,” he remarked with a kiss to my forehead. 

“And speaking of, well, reassurances… the subject of succession, your succession, I mean… do you- are you still firm on the subject of children?” I asked, knowing that was one of the other things I needed to discuss with him.

“Yes, I am. Why? Has the prospect of them being a prince or princess changed your opinion on it?” He questioned in reply, a certain hesitation in his voice as he asked it, almost as if hoping that mentioning he hadn’t changed his mind wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

“No! Gods, no. I just- I wasn’t sure if… well I don’t know. Your relationship with Tyrion has certainly improved, but I didn’t have a clue if it had improved enough to make you give him the throne. You were already unsure about giving him Casterly Rock,” I pointed out, watching him nod as he listened to what I was saying. He was contemplative. 

“Casterly Rock must have prestige associated with it. Jaime is no ruler, but he would not make the Lannister name an embarrassment. To have Tyrion there, whoring and drinking constantly, would be a problem. The throne has no obligations, it is expected for kings to drink and whore. Tyrion will get the throne once I am gone, and I feel quite certain he will rule far better than most,” Tywin explained, one of his hands holding mine and the other on the table, gently tapping against the wood. He quite frequently fidgeted with his fingers, I realized. I wondered if somehow it helped him process his thoughts.

“I see. That’s easily settled then,” I remarked, somewhat glad it had been resolved so easily. I had expected a much longer conversation, but I was quite satisfied. Tyrion would be a good king.

“Yes, it is.”

I thought for a moment more, and then an insecurity from the previous night came back to me. I found myself looking down, not wanting to see Tywin’s reaction as I said what was on my mind.

“You’re correct, Tywin. Kings certainly are expected to whore, drink, and hunt,” I mumbled, feeling insanely uncomfortable with the jealousy I was experiencing. Surely every woman in the seven kingdoms would be throwing herself at him now. 

“(Y/N), a crown is not suddenly going to transform me. Just like any other man, I have been with whores, and I have enjoyed them, but you are my wife. I had no need to marry you, House Tyrell was already firmly tied to House Lannister. I married you because I love you, and that means I have no intentions of being unfaithful. I would hang any woman who tried to flirt with me, because I will not see our marriage insulted that way. Rest assured that you are the only woman I want, and that is not going to change just because they decided to put me on the throne,” Tywin assured me, hand coming under my chin and forcing me to look at him. He was entirely genuine, I could see it in his eyes. In all honesty, I knew everything he said was true before he had even bothered to open his mouth, but somehow hearing it outloud brought such relief. 

“I merely hate the thought of women looking at you with desire.”

“And now you understand how I feel. Perhaps you’ll stop teasing so much when I get possessive.”

I laughed then, shaking my head and embracing Tywin. There was always something so lovely about knowing I was the only person with whom he acted this way. His hands were on my hips again, and when he gave them a slight squeeze I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“And believe me, none of those whores are anything like you. It left me rather unsatisfied,” he whispered, which had initially been what I expected. Then I was given quite the surprise.

“Unsatisfied?” I questioned, wondering if he was insinuating what I thought he was. He observed me for a second, as though he were debating whether or not he ought to admit something.

“About two years ago, when you left to go make negotiations with Robb Stark, I sent a description to the brothel. At that point, I was unaware that you returned my feelings. We hadn’t even kissed yet, but you were driving me mad. It was impulsive of me to do, and I felt incredibly guilty afterwards… but I- well, I couldn’t even finish with her. From behind, she certainly looked similar. Your same height, hair color, skin tone… but she wasn’t anything like you. She did not hold herself with any confidence, the sound of her voice was wrong. She did not moan how you would’ve, and when I leaned down her scent was nothing like yours. That’s when I had to stop. I paid her and asked her to leave. She wasn’t you…” he said, revealing what was probably the most shocking thing I had ever heard him say. I was trying to process my feelings, but in all honesty I had no idea what to feel. How are you supposed to feel about learning that a man fucked a whore with you in mind? More than anything, I was just surprised. I hadn’t even considered that Tywin desired me at that point in time.

“Tywin…” I whispered, not sure what else to say. It was the only thing that would escape my throat. Should I be offended that he had done it? Should I be flattered? There certainly was something erotic about the idea that I had driven him so mad with lust he had gone so far as to find a whore that looked like me. But at the same time, I hated the idea of him fucking another woman. He was mine. Although, as he had said, that was exactly why he’d stopped. She wasn’t me.

“You had been in my room in the last day or two. We had discussed something, I don’t remember what, but you had sat on my bed. You’d been fidgeting with the lace on one of the pillows, I remember that much. You left your scent on it, and that night… when I realized…” he trailed off, and it seemed that just the memory of it had sparked lust in him. I swallowed, instantly understanding. Yes, I was decided. That was utterly erotic.

Suddenly I was picturing Tywin naked, laying in bed that night with a sort of disappointment that the whore had not fulfilled his desire for me. I imagined him turning over and suddenly inhaling a familiar scent. He would flare his nostrils a few times, discovering that something smelled just like me. He would check the pillows around him, and then he would find the one that I had left my perfume on. Tywin would proceed to inhale deeply, and the lust would spark in him again. He’d reach down, touching himself as the scent consumed him entirely and he shut his eyes.

I came back to the present after picturing that, and I felt the heat in my cheeks. To think of Tywin in such a context was entirely new, but I found that I liked it.

“Until that night, I hadn’t been with a whore since weeks before the Battle of Blackwater. Once I had spoken to you again, (Y/N), you became my only desire. You called me an insufferable cunt, fine, I would prove you otherwise. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing, and what had piqued my interest was that I knew you did not mean it just to be insulting, it was genuinely what you thought of me. When I wasn’t working, I was thinking of you. And when those thoughts became different in their nature, I did what I thought would satisfy the urge. No. No, it most certainly did not. I couldn’t have anything less than you, I discovered. Nothing ever has and nothing ever will compare to you, (Y/N).”

I felt my heart pounding with his words, so overwhelming was the love inside of me. Suddenly I could not keep myself off of my husband. I instantly kissed him, grabbing at his hair and moaning into his mouth. He did the same in response, and every touch was so raw and genuine. He lifted me from the ground then, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as he took me over to the bed.

He sat me on the edge of the mattress, standing between my legs as his lips grasped at mine. Gods, it wasn’t even 9:00 yet and we were already like this. His hands had come to my thighs, and he had to pull away for a moment, absolutely breathless.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…” he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine. I cupped his cheeks, swallowing and catching my own breath.

“I love you, Tywin… I love you so much,” I whispered, smiling slightly and looking into his eyes. He also smiled softly, removing his hands from my thighs and embracing me instead. It seemed that we were both equally emotional and lust-filled. 

“I love you far more than I ought to, (Y/N). My queen… my Nightshade of the Garden… my wife,” he said softly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed me again, softer this time. I responded the exact same way.

It was an interesting thought, that I truly had no idea what would come next for us. I found that I did not care, for it did not matter. Tywin and I would continue on, just as we always did.

—————

“You look very handsome, your grace. The sash fits well.”

“It’s not your grace just yet, Cerella. And he does look handsome, even if perhaps a bit gloomy.”

I was fixing up Tywin’s outfit for the coronation, and he had decided on his black coat with the lions on the shoulders. On top of that, I had fixed a golden sash around his torso, as I was trying to prevent him from looking too plain. 

“I do not appreciate your jokes,” Tywin mumbled, which only made me smile even more as I adjusted his belt. He was simply so easy to tease.

“Have you ever considered taking the black, husband? I feel confident they would allow you to keep your wardrobe,” I jested further, finally stepping away from him and feeling satisfied with his appearance. Cerella had brought in my own dress and was presently waiting for me to strip out of my nightgown. 

“Ha! If I did, it would leave you begging,” he replied snarkily, only continuing to grin when I smacked his arm. 

“Do you hear him, Cerella? My husband is surely the most insufferable cunt in all seven kingdoms,” I scoffed, undoing some of the lace on my nightgown and pulling it over my head. My undergarments had followed, of course, and Tywin had pretended not to notice my nudity as he ran a hand over his hair in the mirror. 

“Here, my lady,” Cerella replied, handing me a fresh set to put on. She had not addressed my claim, but was smiling in a way that told me she appreciated the joke. I supposed that after serving the two of us for so long, she’d been forced to become accustomed to our constant teasing and yapping.

I pulled on the clean undergarments, and I held still as she assisted me with the lacing of my stay. After that came my gown, of course, which was a deep scarlet red. The top had minimal gold and white detail, for on top of my dress I was wearing a beautiful porcelain corset. It had absolute gorgeous ornamentation, with perfected gold detailing along the edges and roses painted on it. It had been a gift for my 24th name day, and I hadn’t found an occasion for it until now.

“You look absolutely stunning, my lady,” Cerella said as she helped me put it on. I smiled at her for a moment, and then I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. It certainly was quite the sight. Cerella had done my hair beforehand too, wanting to make sure that everything would stay in place. 

“Yes, she does. You’re breathtaking, wife,” Tywin noted, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my hips, just below the corset. I hadn’t even realized he was watching, in all honesty.

“Well, my husband is being made into the king of all seven kingdoms today. If that isn’t a good occasion to be wearing this, I don’t know what is,” I remarked, watching Cerella step back and take my dirty nightclothes out. Tywin and I were left alone after a moment.

“I have something to give you, (Y/N). I’m not certain what jewelry you were planning to wear, but I think you ought to consider this.”

I watched him retrieve a flat, square box from his dresser with a small smirk on his face. I was suspicious of him, just as I always was. Tywin brought it over to me, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. Carefully, he opened the case and revealed an absolutely stunning necklace. It made me gape, and I quite honestly had no clue what to say in reply.

“What do you think?” he questioned, lifting his gaze from the jewelry up to me. I managed to avert my eyes too, though with quite some difficulty.

“It’s gorgeous, Tywin. Would you- would you help me put it on?” I asked softly, watching the satisfaction settle in his eyes. He said nothing, but nodded and motioned for me to turn around. I did so, watching him move around in the mirror and remove the necklace from its case. I adjusted my hair as he came up behind me, and I could feel his breath against my ear as he hung the thing from my neck. I felt the gentle clasp of it, and he carefully removed his hands. For such a gorgeous, detailed necklace, it was not nearly as heavy as I had suspected. I put my hair back in place with a sort of entrancement.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Tywin said after a moment, still standing right behind me and admiring my reflection. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around my waist and let his head lean against mine. 

“I think this would look beautiful on anyone, Tywin. Maybe even on you,” I jested, though there was no humor in my voice. Something about seeing myself this way was shocking, and I could not tear my eyes away. I looked like a queen.

“No, I doubt that. I had it specifically made for you, the measurements are specific. You are the only woman who’s ever been meant to wear it,” he said, his voice low and clear. I placed my hands on top of his, swallowing and then letting my lips part with a sort of overwhelmed feeling.

“I wonder, Tywin, if you will ever stop spoiling me like a child,” I remarked, finally looking at him. As well as I could, anyways, for our faces were rather close. 

“I have never spoiled you like a child. I have spoiled you like a wife—as you deserve,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against my neck. I leaned into him, a sort of warmth filling me. To think this man had been my worst enemy a few years ago was incredibly odd, for now he was the most important person in my life. To think that a cut, a sword, and a set of armor might’ve changed my life forever.

There was a knock at our door which I recognized as Cerella’s, and I knew it must be time for us to leave. I moved myself from Tywin’s grasp, though I took his arm once I had. From there, we made our way out of the tower of the hand and down to the throne room. The walk was quiet, but the entire time Tywin kept me close. Occasionally, he would look over at me and hold my gaze for a few moments before looking away. I wondered if perhaps he was trying to make sure I was still there, as stupid as that sounded. 

When we reached the double doors, I felt him take a deep breath and noticed his gaze set firmly on the wood in front of us. I pressed my lips together, blinking a few times as I debated whether or not I should ask him how he was doing. I decided it would do little harm.

“Are you alright, Tywin?”

“Of course.”

It was kurt, and perhaps a bit sharper than he had intended. He was stressed, I understood. He was not easily made this way, either, and I felt awful. The man standing beside me was not only Tywin, he was the king. In this moment, the second identity had to be worn.

“I did not mean to use such a tone,” he said after a minute or so, finally looking at me. There was the husband again. 

“It’s alright, Tywin. You don’t need to apologize. Not today,” I whispered, giving him a sympathetic look. A sort of relief settled in his face, as though he was at least glad I was not upset by what he had said. I had learned Tywin well enough to know it was not truly him.

Slowly, the double doors were pulled open and the two of us were shown to the entire court. My heart skipped a beat, as if I was suddenly processing that we both were on public display. With a swallow, I stepped forward in sync with Tywin, looking straight ahead in spite of my nerves and desire to observe every face. Margaery would inform me of looks afterwards, I was certain.

There was a silence in the room as Tywin and I walked through the isle, heading straight up to the throne. It was almost like a moment of peace, a moment of time that nobody else existed in. I found that I could not resist the urge to look at Tywin, and even despite his appearance as king today, he looked back at me. Oh, and those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes with their green flecks. I loved this man so much.

We reached the platform then, and together we ascended up the steps. I made eye contact with Kevan, who Tywin had chosen as Hand of the King, for he never wanted politics to cause strife in our marriage. Although, both of us were aware that I would continue to be his most trusted source of guidance and advice. And, it was a good thing Kevan was hand too, for I did not want to relinquish our chambers in the tower and he had no problem whatsoever taking the kings instead. The bed was bigger in there, but Tywin and I had no problem sleeping close together.

It was Kevan who I had expected to stand beside at the ceremony, too, but Tywin did not drop his arm. With an open mouth, I found myself standing in front of the throne with him, and there was a smug look on his face.

“Let them see that the queen has every bit of power that the king does. Your title is owed a crown,” he whispered before we turned around to look upon the crowd. I was still somewhat shocked, but I did not let it show as we faced everyone. 

Tywin’s arm detached from mine then, but he then opted to grab my hand instead. He was certainly full of surprises today, and I could not keep myself from giving a subtle smile when his hand squeezed mine.

The high septon was behind us, and once Tywin and I had settled in, he began with the ceremonials. I—in all honesty—was not listening to what he was saying whatsoever. Tywin had been running his thumb up and down the side of my hand for the last several minutes, and that was all I could focus on. That and the two crowns I had noticed in the corner of my eye. One was much larger, and had the face of a lion upon it. The other was about the size of my head, and was covered in thorns and roses. 

The high septon had been going on about the seven blessing and guiding Tywin for at least 10 minutes now, and I hadn’t really processed what was being said until I was mentioned. It was not something that had ever been said in a coronation before, at least as far as I was concerned, and Tywin had given me the most fulfilled of looks when he’d heard it. 

“And may his lady wife support him in all his endeavors and be a pillar of strength in the crown. May she show love, compassion, and kindness to all in the kingdoms, and lead just as bravely as the man beside her. The Queen (Y/N) Tyrell, long may she reign,” he said, placing the golden crown of roses atop my head. Its weight was pleasant, and the echo of ‘long may she reign’ from everyone in the hall sent a slight shiver up my spine. Tywin squeezed my hand once more.

After that, the High Septon moved on to Tywin, and I was unable to remove my eyes from my husband. He looked every bit the king, standing tall with his perfect posture and elegant coat. The High Septon held the crown above his head, and with a shout of ‘long may he reign,’ it was placed upon his head.

“Long may he reign,” I repeated with the rest of the crowd, smiling at the sight of the golden lion upon Tywin’s white hair. It matched the blonde strands that remained on the edges of his head and his cheeks. 

Loud applause filled the room for King Tywin, first of his name, and I experienced the sort of feeling that one gets before battle. The feeling of rallying your men, of hearing them cheer as they prepare to die for you. Would these men fight for my husband? Would they die for him? I would. 

Tywin looked over at me then, and when our eyes met I knew everything would be alright, somehow. There were trials to come, I knew, but it was impossible to feel frightened when the man beside me was looking at me the way he was. Tywin and I had faced everything together for the last few years, and I had no doubt in my mind that we would continue to do so now.

“My Queen,” Tywin muttered, lifting our hands and kissing the back of mine. It was as if he had forgotten everyone in the hall was there, even as their applause continued to ring in our ears. I smiled even more now, looking up at my husband with utter adoration. Every choice I’d made in my life had been the right one, for I could not imagine living without this man. The Great Lion of the Rock and the Nightshade of the Garden. 

Tywin Lannister, I could say confidently, was the most important thing in my life. The man I trusted, guided, received guidance from. But most importantly he was the man I loved. They said that Westeros had not seen a match such as ours in centuries, if ever. And standing beside Tywin in front of the throne, his hand in mine and our eyes stuck on each other, I had the odd sensation that they never would again. For how could they?

I could not imagine another tale such as ours, with the hatred of him in my youth turning to eventual friendship in my adulthood, and then that friendship eventually turning to love. Tywin and I had fought wars together, settled conflict together, and kept all seven kingdoms intact together. What other couple could boast that? None. None could. There were no couples like us. There were no people like us. There was only us.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Tywin’s hand at my waist, and I realized that he was pulling me towards him. Before all present in the hall, he kissed me. Tywin was passionate, and yet simultaneously loving. I could not resist the urge to smile as I kissed back, the sensation of his familiar lips causing a wave of utter contentment to wash over me. A sense of peace. When Tywin pulled away, he smiled at me. It wasn’t even a small smile, it was genuine and raw. And I could see in his eyes, it was not the crown atop his head that had made him smile. It had been me, standing right beside him as the High Septon had placed it atop his head. I kissed him once more, with not a single care as I did so.

For they would never see our like again.

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