#the weight of the world rests on his shoulders

[eevees-hobbies]

This One's for the Dads!

Authors Note: This was originally going to be a spicy one-shot with Satoru Gojo, but then it turned into something else.

Synopsis: Father’s Day is among us and it impacts Gojo, Geto, Toji and Sukuna (yes, even him) differently. 

Content Warning: There is some smut below. None in Toji’s and it’s kind of angsty. Female ReaderXCharacter, Mentioning of fathers day, breeding kink, implied child abandonment, reference to spitting in someones mouth, playing with nipples, almost getting caught, making out fingering, sex, etc. Minors DO NOT Interact.

Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

The Dads Who Stepped Up

Satoru Gojo

“Happy Father's Day, Satoru!” You shout while simultaneously setting off a loud party popper. The red party string erupts from the boisterous instrument and floats to the floor onto the accented rug. The love of your life and least funniest person in the world, Satoru Gojo—who had just walked into the door of your shared home—looks at you in surprise. 

Truth be told, it was the end of a particularly long and stressful workday, and he was looking forward to coming home and collapsing into his king-sized bed without further thought of carrying the world's weight on his shoulders. But here he was, being accosted at his own front door—by you. 

“Happy Fathers D-?” His voice trails off as his eyes wander down your frame and settle on your midsection. Your face grows hot as you follow his eyes; instinctively, your hand shoots down to cover your stomach. You scold yourself quietly for not thinking of the implications behind your gesture.

“Yeah, I should have thought this through. Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh”

You make a mental note of his change of tone. He sounded disappointed, but you can’t imagine why since pregnancy scares have always stressed you both out in the past. 

“Then, why are you wishing me a Happy Father's Day? I’m not exactly a dad.” Gojo closes the door behind him and opens his arms, allowing you to approach him and melt into his embrace. His familiarity calms you, as does the scent of his cologne and the way he rests his chin on your head. For all the things that Gojo is for you—and he is a lot of positive things—he also is a sense of security, comfort, and unconditional love. 

“But you are, Satoru. I know I joke about you having an army of secret kids out there-“ 

“I meaaaaaaan-”

You pinch his bicep playfully, earning a pained chuckle from him. 

“You’re a father figure to Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji, to only name a few. Think about how much you’ve stepped up and mentored them in their darkest moments. I want you to consider where those kids would be without you, Satoru.”

While you’re talking, Gojo lifts his blindfold from his eyes and rests it on his forehead. His usual playful gaze is gone, replaced with something more reflective as he considers your words. It’s almost enough to unnerve you, but you continue in an attempt to convince your partner that today is a day for him, too.

“I know you’re always bragging about being the strongest, to the point where you’re downright annoying, but please accept that you serve in this capacity, too. Look,” you break free from his embrace, walk over to your dining room table, and pick up several envelopes. 

Gojo follows behind you, peering over your shoulder. “What are those?” 

“Signed Father's Day cards from the boys.” You hand them over to Gojo, who then opens the one on the top of the pile, which just so happens to be Megumi’s

Gojo can’t help but smile as he reads it aloud: “Thanks for everything. If I had to choose between being sold off to the Zenin clan and you, I would choose you every time.” 

He looks up at you, his voice soft and devoid of his usual arrogant tone. "That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”

You smile as he reads through the other cards. Yuta’s is the sweetest and tugs at your heartstrings as he describes a point in which meeting Gojo meant not having to live in fear anymore. 

Yuji’s card makes Satoru chuckle with the use of an inside joke that doesn’t sound too appropriate for a student-teacher relationship, but you don’t press it. 

You watch Gojo, enjoying this moment in which he feels valued, something his thankless job often fails to offer him. 

After Gojo places the cards on the refrigerator via the picture magnets of you two, he turns to you. “Baaaaaabe!” 

There he is, you think as he throws his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your hair, “I’m not gonna’ lie. I kind of wish you were pregnant, though.”

Suddenly, the arrogance is back, his voice absolutely inundated with it, “I like the idea of a little Gojo running around, and you make me sound like a perfect dad.”

You recall your conversation from minutes ago in which he sounded disappointed when you said you weren’t pregnant, “Gojo, we’ve talked about this. When you get horny, you start talking about making a family.”

He whines, “Come ON! It’s Father’s Day! MY day! Humor me.”

You laugh and nod, not entirely sure what you’re consenting to, but he’s right. It is Father's Day, and it was your intention to make him feel like this was a day for him, so what was the harm in playing along? 

Gojo picks you up and places you on the counter, his fingers gripping the edge of your skirt and hiking it up. He’s on you in an instant, attaching himself to you as if you’re his lifeline.

You loop a finger around the hem of his blindfold, removing and flinging it across the room. His white hair falls into his face, adding a breathtaking contrast to his sky-blue eyes. 

“Would it be so bad, Y/N?” 

“W-would what be so bad?” Gojo’s warm mouth is on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses but still somehow managing to speak against your skin.

“Making me a dad,” he pauses. “Letting me make you a mama.” Gojo leans closer to you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders. You’re situated on the counter, but his proposition makes you feel like you’re falling. And what he says next shakes you to your very being.

“Let me put a baby in you, Y/N.”

You open your mouth, ready to list why you both shouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation—but, to your surprise, you can’t find the words to say no. And perhaps it’s because it’s something you actually want, or maybe it’s because Gojo is now positioning his cock at your entrance, and when that man pulls his dick out, you get a little dumb. Honestly, your only flaw.

You have follow-up questions. You’re unsure if he’s being serious; he often talks like this during sex, a consequence of a man with a breeding kink, but this sounds different. Feels different. So, is he serious? Your second question is, how did he pull his dick out so quickly?

You don’t get much time to ask as he smacks the fat tip of his dick against your sensitive clit; the sound of his meat hitting your already moist cunt echoes through the kitchen. The action sends shockwaves through your body, and you arch your back, pressing yourself further against his body, which almost doesn’t feel humanly possible. 

Gojo smirks, “Mmm, so receptive for me, baby. What if I juuuuust put the tip in, like this?”

He’s a man of his word as he presses the head against the entrance of your tight cunt, watching as it does what it does best and welcomes Gojo’s dick. But he doesn’t push in any further, only allowing you to feel moderately stretched and not as full as you’d like.

“Don’t tease me, Gojo.” You attempt to make your demand sound menacing through gritted teeth, but it comes out more like a whine. Pathetic. 

He wraps a hand around your chin and pulls your face within mere inches of his. “I will if you ask nicely.”

You huff. God, for all the reasons you love this man, he can be fucking exhausting. But your body deceives you; your cunt grasps at the head of his cock, part of you enjoying his little games.

“Please, Saturo, make me a mommy.”

As the last syllable leaves your lips, he pushes forward until his dick is flush against your pussy. The momentum of the push bounces you back, and some of the appliances on the counter tip over. Gojo’s hand shoots over your head to get leverage, resting on the cabinet while the other wraps around your waist. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he slides in and out of you. “I swear to GOD I’m getting you pregnant tonight. You want that? To carry my babies?”

Fantasy or not, you’re into it. You tighten your grip around his neck and moan into his ear, your honeyed voice only making him thrust more aggressively. 

“You’re going to be a great Daddy, baby!”

The arm that was around your waste is now in between you both, his long fingers rubbing your clit, the friction making your inner thighs clench—a telltale sign that you’re getting close.

“You’re going to look so fuckin’ beautiful pregnant. How many are you going to give me? Cuz once we start, I won’t be able to stay off ya.”

You moan in approval; Satoru is a pervert, a menace, but never a liar. You know that if he promises to keep you barefoot and pregnant, he fucking means it. 

“Stick out your tongue for me, baby.”

You happily oblige as his mouth absorbs your tongue, sucking harshly on it. Kissing while fucking is something you both often do, but you and Satoru are just so comically bad at it—taking intermittent pauses, too caught up in the pleasure you’re both feeling to move your lips. But he never allows your tongue to retreat back into your mouth, sucking on it while he continues to pound your core.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, realizing that he never removed his shirt—he was so horny that he only had time to drop his pants down to his ankles and fuck you right there on your kitchen counter. And the thought alone has you grabbing his hair and gushing on his dick.

Gojo lets out a whimper as your cunt spasms, sending him over the edge, and shooting ropes upon ropes into your sex.

You’re both left panting, forehead to forehead.

“Happy Father's Day, Satoru.”

Suguru Geto

“That’s the last of it,” you say as you dump an endless supply of glitter into a trash bag. The living room was a mess.

For this Father's Day, Mimiko and Nanako begged to be in charge of the activities. You were touched. The girls were obviously happy to hold this responsibility, so you willingly passed the baton to them.  

And you had to admit, you were impressed by the itinerary. They planned a trip to some of Seguro’s favorite places, including a Soba restaurant that typically had an extensive waitlist. Tonight was no exception, but the girls had made reservations months in advance. 

You all concluded the day at home with home movies, cake, and a poster board with bright red glitter proclaiming that Geto was the “World's Best Dad.” 

Hence, the mess.

The girls were now tucked away and asleep in their respective bedrooms. You and Suguru were taking the time to clean up the living room, but a quiet lull had settled between you both. You looked back at him as you tied the trash bag closed. 

Geto is sitting on the couch, a smile on his face that you can’t help but return. He looks perfect like this, you think to yourself. He is wearing black jeans and a loose grey sweatshirt, and his signature hair, which is often tied up, flows freely past his shoulders. 

“Y//N, this is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I owe a lot of this to you. This wouldn’t be a home without you.” He gestures to the room around you both, and you take it all in—it’s not the most luxurious of homes, but it belongs to your family of 4, and it’s brimming with character. 

You can clearly see what he’s referencing—the pencil marks on the walls indicating the measured inventory of the girls over the years, the pile of shoes near the door (the girls have far TOO many, you often say to no one in particular) and the framed family photos of you all on every wall.

Suguru interrupts your thoughts as he pats the vacant seat on the sofa beside him. You accept his invitation, sitting down and draping your legs into his lap. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying underneath him, his dark eyes penetrating your soul.

His voice is soft, and his touch is even softer as he slides a hand up your shirt, your bra removed hours ago, “I couldn’t do this without you. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”

His deft fingers circle your nipples, making them unbelievably hard and earning a moan from your lips, “Suguru, the girls could hear us!”

“Sounds like you better be quiet then” His head disappears under your shirt, and while you can’t see what he’s doing, you can feel his hot mouth on your nipples, rolling them around his tongue, sucking and teasing the flesh, making the heat between your legs grow exponentially stronger.

You begin to grind against him, trying to rub against any part of him to feel some semblance of relief. He chuckles, slipping a hand into your waistband and past your underwear. He lets out a murmur of approval as his hands dip into your needy sex, immediately stroking the soft-spongy spot deep in your core that drives you crazy.

Geto’s fingers are a godsend as they curve, stroke, and scissor you, adjusting to different motions depending on the sounds you make. His mouth still hasn't left your nipple, his suckles getting more aggressive as you feel his teeth nibbling. 

Suddenly, you both hear a door open from within the hallway and freeze. You hear someone—one of the girls, but you aren’t sure which—pad their way to the bathroom.

You both stay as still as humanly possible, knowing that if you duck down enough, whoever crosses in the hallway won’t be able to see you on the couch. 

Suguru pulls his hands out of your pants, which you assume means that your sexual escapade has concluded until those same fingers, which are covered in your essence, are now pressing against your lips.

He doesn’t give you much of an option as he pushes them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on your tongue, swirling his fingers around to mix with your saliva.

The bathroom door opens, and you hear the footsteps back into their room.

“Good job,” Suguru coos, pressing his lips against your stomach and pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“And thank you for an excellent Father's Day, my love.”

The Dad Who Stepped Out

Toji Fushiguro

“Here’s what you asked for.” Toji enters the kitchen and drops a grocery bag on the table. You glance over your shoulder at your stay-at-home boyfriend, who seems grumpier than usual today.

“Thanks. Hoping to try this Carbonara recipe out.” You rifle through the bag and pull out the ingredients.

Toji lingers in the kitchen—-unusual for him as he never offers to help cook, but you don’t press it, not wanting to catch the strays from whatever has him pissed off.

“I forgot…I forgot what day it is,” he mumbles softly.

Oh, you look over at the calendar on the refrigerator and nod. The date is circled in bright red marker. There’s a note to yourself that reads, “Father's Day!” 

“There were so many brats at the store today with their moms pickin’ out dinners. Barely could find anywhere to park.” 

He’s rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes look anywhere but at yours. You can tell that this is bothering him as Toji wears his stress on his shoulders, which are now hunched in a way that looks far from comfortable.

You learned early in your relationship not to bring up Father’s Day; it’s a sore spot for him. Much of what you know about Toji and his relationship with his son was shared reluctantly as a result of an ultimatum by you: open up or get the fuck out.

You choose your following words carefully. “Do you want to talk about it, or is this you venting?”

Toji sighs and shrugs, “Let’s hear it.”

“I think you should call your kid, Toji. He’s probably thinking about you, too.”

He holds his hand up, signaling that he doesn’t want to hear anything else about the topic, and exits to the bedroom. You glance sadly at your ingredients and conclude that dinner is going to have to wait as you follow Toji.

He’s lying on your bed almost as if asleep, but the scowl on his face and the way he’s biting his bottom lip gives him away.

You sit on the edge of the bed, “what do you need right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, but within reason, Toji. Because it seems like you don’t want to do what makes the most sense which is to pick up the fucking phone and call your son, so yeah, what do you need that I can give you right now?”

Toji’s face goes slack, and he opens one of his eyes. “Just sit here with me, yeah?”

You nod and crawl beside him, laying your head on his bicep as he wraps his arm around you.

Dishonorable Mention

Ryomen Sukuna

“Woman! Isn’t there something that you’re forgetting?”

Sukuna taps his foot as he sits at your dining room table. You would think that a modest two-bedroom apartment would humble the king of curses, but it doesn’t.

“What is it now, Sukuna?”

“I was watching the news, and every segment specified that it’s Father's Day?”

You nod, not entirely sure where he’s going with this.

“Well? Where’s my gift? My words of adoration? Your mouth on one of my cocks?”

You blink slowly, “Sukuna, Father's Day is for those with children. Are you telling me that you have-?”

‘He waves his dismissively at you, “Don’t be absurd, woman. You know how I feel about those disgusting creatures.”

“Then?”

Suluna’s patience with you is running thin. You sometimes like to play games with him to get a rise out of him. He’ll remember to spit in your mouth when he beds you tonight.

He speaks through gritted teeth, “you call me daddy every chance I have you split open on my dicks. Now wish me a happy fathers day.”

You consider your options here; on the one hand, pissing off Sukuna could be fun; on the other hand, he is right, you do call him daddy in the bedroom, so you relent, “happy fathers day, Sukuna.”

His chest swells in triumph. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Loving Husband pt 4

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 I'm not spoiling it for you

Here it is!!!!!

Part 3 Part 5

As they walked into the doctor’s office, John put an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. He could sense your nervousness, but he was just as excited as you were. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to murmur in your ear. “No matter what it is, they'll be perfect.” You sat side-by-side on the examination bed, holding hands tightly as you both waited for the ultrasound technician to come in. The room was quiet except for the soft humming of medical equipment in the background.

“Ready?” The technician asked, breaking the silence as you laid on the bed and pulled your shirt up. John squeezed your hand reassuringly, giving you a supportive smile. He knew this was a big moment for them, and he wanted to be there for you every step of the way. She squirted some gel onto your stomach first which made you hissed slightly at the cold jelly. It made John chuckle.

"Don't laugh!" You pouted. "It's cold."

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling softly. “But it’s kind of funny.”

She then squirted some gel onto a handheld device and began moving it slowly over your stomach, watching the monitor intently. John leaned closer to the screen, trying to get a better view of what the technician was seeing. His heart pounded in his chest. There was a moment of silence before the technician mumbled a simple "Oh." You looked at the doctor and panicked, "What is it? Is everything okay?" She looked at you and chuckled, "Everything is fine. They're fine"

They?

Yours and Johns head shot up at the words. "They?" You questioned "As in plural?" Your hand tightened around Johns hand, your heart felt like it jumped into your throat as you waited for the doctor to confirm. John's heart skipped a beat at your question, his mind racing with possibilities. Twins? Identical twins? His gaze flickered between the ultrasound screen and the technician, waiting for her to say something - anything. "Yes" The technician smiled before look at you and John. 

"You're having triplets"

John blinked, staring at the ultrasound screen in disbelief. Triplets? 

He glanced over at you, finding you equally stunned expression mirrored in his own. Their jaws hung open, their hearts pounding wildly in their chests.

"Triplets..." He echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at the technician with wide eyes "Triplets?" You gasped, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, "Are you serious? Three babies?" You started to cry happy tears. "Three babies" You cried while holding onto John for dear life. 4 months of failed pregnancy tests and now your here, at your 20 week scan being told you're having triplets. John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you burst into tears of joy. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with excitement himself. "Triplets," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "That's incredible."

He watched the technician move the ultrasound wand over your slightly swollen belly, fascinated by the sight of their unborn children squirming around inside you. It was a surreal moment, one that he would never forget.

"Look," he whispered, pointing at the screen. "There's one."

You wiped your tears away, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't believe it" you said quietly, looking at the screen as you pointed at the second baby. "There's number two"

John grinned, squeezing her hand again. "And look at that...there's number three!"

He laughed, feeling light-hearted and carefree despite the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. They were going to have three children - a whole team of little ones under their roof. The rest of the appointment passed in a blur of information and advice from the technician, but neither of you really absorbed much of it. You both were too caught up in the amazing news that had just rocked their world. On the drive home, you kept stealing glances at each other, grinning widely and shaking their heads in amazement.

"Can you believe it?" John asked, reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. "We're having triplets!"

"Oh god I've got tell my mom," You laughed as you got your phone out to call your mother. She's probably going to have a heart attack. Hearing that she's going to be a grandmother too 3 babies instead of 1. John chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talking animatedly on the phone. He could imagine how your mother must be reacting to the news - probably a mixture of surprise and delight. "It sounds like she's taking it well," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "She'll love being a grandma times three."

He sighed contentedly, thinking about how their lives were about to change forever. It was daunting, yes - but also incredibly exciting. "And to think," he added with a playful grin, "we used to worry about getting our laundry done." You squeezed his hand back and laughed, "We're defiantly going to need a bigger house." John chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah defiantly"

"It's crazy how things change in an instant," he murmured thoughtfully, "One minute we're dealing with failed pregnancy tests and worrying about whether or not we'd ever conceive...and now..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced over at you. You were radiant, your eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. "And now we're expecting triplets."

"I feel like this is mother nature's way of apologising" You smiled, feeling the tears falling down your cheek again as John pulled up to your shared house. John nodded, understanding what you meant. It was a bit like fate stepping in and setting things right after all those failed attempts. "Yeah," he agreed, reaching over to gently wipe away your tears. "A beautiful apology indeed." He parked the car and turned to face you, pulling you into a tender kiss. As their lips met, he could taste the saltiness of your tears - a bittersweet reminder of their past struggles but also a hopeful promise for their future.

"Well," he murmured against her lips, "We better tell the lads"

"Ooo let's invite them over for dinner" You suggested as you got out of the car. John grinned, liking the idea. "Dinner sounds good. We could even make it a barbecue." He helped you out of the car (forever a gentleman), wrapping an arm around your waist as they walked towards the house.

1 week later

"I'll get it" You shouted to John, who was in the backyard getting the barbecue set up, when you heard the doorbell. John chuckled, continuing to prepare the grill as he heard you answer the door. He could only imagine the flurry of activity that would ensue once they broke the news to their friends. "Just give me a few minutes," he called back, his voice filled with amusement. "I'm almost ready!"

You opened the door to see Gaz, Ghost and Soap standing there with big smiles on their faces. You hugged them all and invited them in. "Come on guys. John's just in the back setting up the barbecue." As soon as the door opened, Ghost's nose picked up the distinct smell of meat grilling on charcoal. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Barbecue?" he asked, grinning widely. "Now you're talking!"

They followed you into the house and made their way towards the backyard where John was already busy flipping burgers and hotdogs. "So how's the mother to be?" Gaz asked you with a big, shit eating grin on his face. "She's fucking tired and she's only 3 months pregnant" You answered Gaz with a chuckle as you passed everyone a beer. Everyone laughed at Gaz's question and your response, raising their beers in salute as they took a seat around the patio table.

"Sounds about right," Gaz chuckled, "But you're doing great, love." Soap and Ghost nodded in agreement, their expressions softening with genuine concern and admiration. "And don't worry," Soap added, "We'll be here to help however we can."

"Good" You smiled as you walked up to John and put an arm around his waist. "Because you 3" You pointed to the three men. "Are going to be uncles to triplets." The air suddenly became thick with shock and disbelief as everyone's gazes shot between you and John. Even the sizzle of the grill seemed to fade away for a moment.

"As in 3 babies?" Soap choke out, his eyes wide with disbelief. Gaz and Ghost looked at each other in disbelief.

"Yes as in 3 babies" You giggled as you held onto John tighter.

There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone burst into cheers and congratulations. Soap even did a little happy dance. "Triplets!" Gaz exclaimed, slapping John on the back. "That's fantastic!" Ghost, always the more reserved one, simply shook his head in awe. "Unbelievable...Do you know the gender?"

"Nope not until they arrive" you giggled as you felt the tears coming back to your eyes. "Oh god I'm getting emotional again" you laughed as you fanned your face, trying not to ruin your mascara. John wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Don't worry love," he murmured softly. He gave you a gentle squeeze before turning back towards the team. "Alright guys! Who's hungry?"

With that, he went back to flipping the burgers and hotdogs on the grill while everyone else settled down at the table waiting for dinner to be served. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and laughed, "I am starving." John chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as he headed inside to grab some plates and cutlery. "Good," he said over his shoulder, "because I've got plenty of food."

Soon enough, they were all gathered around the table, digging into the delicious feast that John had prepared. The conversation flowed easily among friends, laughter filling the air as they celebrated this wonderful news. "I gotta ask" Soap asked as he wiped his mouth, "Did ya conceive in my bathroom?" You blushed deeply and buried your face in your hands, "Oh God, Johnny..." You groaned, peeking through your fingers. "You're not letting that go are you?" You laughed as you hid your face in Johns arm. 

John couldn't help but laugh at Soap's question, shaking his head slightly as he tried to suppress his amusement. "Oh come on," he teased, "It's not like we planned it or anything." He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before turning back to Soap. "But yes," he added with a chuckle, "we did." You looked at Soap with a serious expression "I swear to god, Johnny, If you ever tell our children they were conceived in your bathroom. You'll know about it!" You tried to be serious but you ended up laughing.

Soap raised his hands in surrender, holding up both palms towards you. "Hey now," he said innocently, "I wouldn't dream of it." Despite his words, a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he playfully jabbed at Ghost with his elbow. "But if he tells them," Soap continued with a smirk, "then I'm off the hook." You pointed at John, Gaz, Soap and Ghost, "None of you will tell them." John chuckled at your stern warning, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not," he agreed with a teasing wink. "Our secret."

His gaze softened as he glanced over at you, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. "But remember," he added with a sly smile, "they might figure it out eventually." You raised your eyebrows at John, "They are never. Ever finding out." John chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "They might not find out from us," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "but mothers have been known to slip up..." His voice trailed off suggestively.

You pretended to be offended. "Johnathan Price you take that back" you crossed your arms with a giggle. John raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning widely as he leaned back in his chair. "Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle, "I'll behave."

However, the mischievous twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise.

A few hours later, after dinner was finished and the dishes washed, everyone started to say their goodbyes. They hugged and shook hands before heading home. "Thank you for coming," John said sincerely as he waved goodbye from the doorstep. After seeing their friends off, John turned to find you in the kitchen. He moved silently behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I'm glad they could make it," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm even more glad it's just us now." His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach as he pulled you closer against him. You leaned into Johns touch with a sigh of content as you rested one hand on John's and another on your bump.

You were only 3 moths pregnant but you were already showing. By a lot. You should of knows you were having triplets really but it never crossed yours or Johns mind, you were just happy to finally be pregnant.

Feeling your hand over his own, John's heart swelled with love and excitement. His fingers traced gentle circles against your belly as he pressed a series of soft kisses along your jawline. "You're amazing," he whispered huskily, "and so beautiful." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the sensitive peaks. As he kissed down your neck, he could feel your pulse beating rapidly beneath his lips.

"Let's go upstairs," he murmured between kisses. "But John." You moaned as you moved your head to the side, "I gotta finish cleaning the kitchen." John chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke. "There's always tomorrow," he whispered huskily, His hands slid down from your breasts, tracing lower until they found the hem of your dress. With a gentle tug, he pulled it up and over your head, revealing the lacy bra you wore underneath.

"We can clean up in the morning," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss. You kissed John back with equal passion as you slipped your hands under his shirt pulling it up slowly as you reached his bare chest. Caught up in the moment, John allowed you to pull his shirt off. His hands moved to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

"God, you're stunning," he breathed, his gaze roaming over your body appreciatively.

Without wasting another second, he picked you up and carried you up the stairs to their bedroom. Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed before quickly stripping off his pants and boxer shorts. "C'mere," he murmured, crawling onto the bed and hovered over you. "John" You giggled as he crawled up the bed to hover over you. "You're too good to me sometimes" you whispered as your ran your fingers through his hair while staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

John chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with love and desire as he gazed down at you. "Just trying to keep up with my favourite girl," he teased, pressing a series of light kisses along your collarbone. He shifted slightly, trailing his fingers down your body until they found the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he peeled them off and tossed them aside. "Now," he murmured huskily, "where were we?" You shivered as John trail kisses down your body and removed your panties. "Oh I think you were about to show your pregnant wife how much you love her"

At your words, John's heart swelled with affection. He loved this feisty, strong-willed woman more than anything, and being able to share this journey with you was a blessing beyond measure. "That I was," he replied with a tender smile, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. With a low growl of anticipation, he lowered himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs before moving higher. His tongue darted out, tasting you intimately as he listened to the sweet sounds you made.

John loved every part of you - your strength, your spirit... and most especially your body. He savoured each moment, taking his time as he worshipped you with his mouth. You arched your back as John licked and kissed your inner thighs as he moved closer to your cunt, "John" you whined as you felt his hot breath on your clit. Hearing you whine, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of satisfaction. It was music to his ears, the sound of your pleasure.

His tongue flickered out again, teasing your swollen clit before diving deeper to lap at your entrance. The taste of you was intoxicating, making him groan in approval. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you open for him as he devoured you with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. He wanted to make sure you came undone under his ministrations, to hear those precious sounds of yours echoing throughout the room. John continued to lick and suck at your dripping cunt, driving you wild with pleasure. His hands held your thighs steady as he explored every inch of you with his tongue.

He could feel your body tensing up, signalling that you were close to climax. Not wanting to push you over the edge quite yet, he slowed down, focusing instead on teasing your clit with his fingers.

'Take it easy, love,' he thought to himself, 'we've got all night.'

"That's not fair," you whined as you grabbed his hair and tried to pull his face closer to your cunt. John chuckled softly at your whines, the vibrations sending delightful shocks through your sensitive flesh. He could feel you gripping his hair, trying to guide him back to where you wanted him, but he resisted. "Patience, love," he murmured against your wetness. "We have all night." With a final teasing lick, he pulled away slightly, giving you a wicked grin as he did so.

You let out a pathetic whine in frustration as John pulled his face away from your pussy. You swatted his hands away from you and sat up on the bed, "That's just mean!" You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. John watched as you sat up, your expression one of pure frustration. He had to admit, it was rather adorable. "I aim to please, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you.

"But if you insist..." With a swift move, he pulled you onto his lap, your back to his front. His cock, already hard and ready, nestled against your ass. "Better?" he asked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You started grinding your hips on his thighs, desperate for some sort of friction. "No." Feeling you squirm in his lap, John knew exactly what you needed. His hand slid down your stomach, tracing over your belly where their babies were growing before dipping lower.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers found your slick entrance. "What's this? Seems like someone's asking for something." With a gentle thrust, two fingers sank into your tight heat. His thumb circled your swollen clit, adding to the pleasure coursing through you. "Is this better, love?" he whispered against your ear, his teeth nibbling playfully on your lobe. You bit your lip as you nodded your head. Your hands gripped John's thighs as you pressed your back further into him and started rocking your hips back onto his fingers.

John groaned at the feeling of your hips rolling back onto his fingers. Your tight warmth enveloped him, drawing a low growl from deep within his chest. "God I fucking love you" he murmured, his other hand sliding around to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. "Fuck, you're going to make me blow my load without even getting inside you," he confessed, his breathing ragged. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. Your hands tightened on his thighs as you felt John's fingers slide in and out of your cunt. "John" you whimpered his name like a prayer.

John's heart pounded in his chest at the sound of your plea. He loved hearing you beg for him, loved knowing that he was the one who could make you lose control. "Right there, sweetheart?" he groaned, his fingers pumping faster into your tight heat. "Jesus Christ..." He could feel you clenching around him, signalling your impending orgasm. Without missing a beat, he added a third finger, stretching you even further.

You cried out as you came hard on John's fingers. Your cunt clenched tightly around them as your body shook from the force of your orgasm. You leaned heavily against John's chest, panting for air as you recovered from your intense orgasm. John groaned as your walls clamped down on his fingers, milking him for everything he was worth. The way you trembled and gasped in his arms was enough to drive any man insane. "Fuck...fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful when you cum," he grunted out, his own need throbbing painfully between his legs. But despite how much he wanted release, he refused to take it without giving you another orgasm first.

"Come on, love. Let's get you off again," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he resumed fingering you. This time, however, he focused solely on your clit, determined to send your spiralling into another orgasm. You whimpered as he continued to rub your clit. Your cunt was still spasming from your previous orgasm but you didn't care. You wanted more, you always wanted more with John. "Please" You begged, pressing your hips back onto his hand. John's heart thudded in his chest at the sound of your plea. You were so fucking needy at times, so desperate for him - and he loved it.

"God, you're such a dirty little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to tease you. "I fucking love it."

His free hand reached around to caress your breast again, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers while his other hand kept working magic on your clit. You surrender to the ecstasy surging through you, a knot within uncoiling with trembling release. Your body convulses in pleasure as you cry out, each syllable a symphony of surrender. John's gaze is fixed upon you, his eyes wide with amazement as he witnesses the torrent of your climax. The liquid gold stains his thighs and the sheets beneath you, a testament to your abandon. 

To John, watching you squirt was like watching a fucking masterpiece unfold right before his eyes. The way your body tensed up, the way your juices gushed out, it was all so fucking sexy.

But instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he curled them upwards, rubbing against that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. He wanted to keep going, to push you over the edge once more. And judging by the way you were twitching and gasping under his touch, he wasn't far off. "N-no more baby" you panted as you tried to push Johns hand away. Your body was twitching, you were overstimulated, "Please" you whispered softly. John chuckled softly at your pleas for him to stop, his fingers never slowing their pace. He loved seeing you so worked up, so close to the edge.

"No can do, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Not until you've given me another orgasm." With that, he lowered his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin there while his fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt. You let out a whine as you felt John nip at your neck. You were so close to the edge but he just wouldn't stop (Not that you wanted him too). You felt your body start to shake as you came yet again, squirting all over his hand. It took every ounce of self-control not to scream his name as you came.

John groaned as your cunt squeezed his fingers once more, your body convulsing as you came on his hand. He could feel your warm juices coating his fingers and dripping down his wrist, and it only served to turn him on more. "Fucking hell..." he muttered, withdrawing his soaked fingers from your trembling cunny. With a swift movement, he brought them to his lips and sucked each finger clean, savouring the taste of you. You were whimpering, your body still twitching from the intensity of your orgasm. You turned your head to look at him, biting your lower lip as you watched him suck on his fingers. You wanted him, needed him inside you now.

"Please" you begged, reaching around to grab his cock. You stroked him slowly, loving the way he groaned in response. John's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your touch feather-light and teasing. His mind went blank, consumed by the need to be inside you. "Christ, love," he groaned, his grip tightening on the sheets beneath them. "I need to be inside you. Now."

You quickly got off his lap and turned to face him on the bed. You hand grabbed Johns hair at the nape of his neck as brought him in for a very hungry kiss. You were both naked, sweaty, John made you cum 3 times, squirt 2 times and yet you wanted more. You needed John inside you. John returned your kiss with an equal amount of hunger, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roamed your body. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you squirmed and moaned against his touch.

"Jesus Christ, you're insatiable," he murmured against your lips, breaking their kiss. "But I'm not complaining." You giggled at Johns comment about you being insatiable. You ran your hands along his slightly chubby (but strong) torso as you pushed him onto his back on the bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you positioned his cock at your entrance. You looked down at him with a smirk as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

"You're just as bad" you whispered. John groaned as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, taking him inch by delicious inch into your tight, wet heat. He loved the way you fit perfectly around him, how you squeezed and gripped him with every thrust. "And you love it," he teased, placing a hand on your hip as he started to roll his hips up into your. "Don't deny it, love."

You bit your lower lip as you began to move on top of John. You moved slowly, riding his cock as you moaned softly. "Wouldn't be pregnant if I didn't" You admitted with a smile as you leaned forward to kiss him. John laughed softly as you admitted that you wouldn't be pregnant if you didn't love the sex as much as he did. He knew that was true - you always seemed to be ready for another round, no matter how many times they'd already gone at it.

"So lucky you're mine. My life. My world. My wife," he murmured, kissing you deeply before breaking away to watch you ride him. His hands roamed over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you that he could reach. (He's so in love with you, can never get enough) You smiled at John's words "My darling husband." You placed your hands on his chest as you leaned forward slightly, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You loved making John happy. You loved everything about him, even his rough edges, "Every day I thank my lucky stars that I found you."

His heart swelled with pride and love as you called him your darling husband. He couldn't help but return your smile, his own face lighting up with happiness. "And I thank my lucky stars that I found you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the light in my life, sweetheart. The one thing that makes this godforsaken world worth living in." 

"Oh John" You whispered and you slowed your movements. You cupped his face and placed one kiss on his forehead. "I wish I had more words to tell you how much I love you" then you placed another kiss on one cheek. 

"How lucky I am to have found you" and then another kiss on his other cheek. 

"How lucky I am to be your wife" and then finally one last kiss on the tip of his nose. 

"How lucky our children will be to have you" 

His heart swelled with pride and love (again) as you told him how much you loved him. He cherished these moments with you, these quiet moments of intimacy where they could simply be together without the distraction of the outside world. "I don't need any fancy words, sweetheart," he said softly. "Just knowing that you love me is enough." You leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips. You pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. Your hand reached up and moved some loose strands of hair off his forehead.

"I love you John" you whispered as you began to move again. John felt his heart melt as you whispered those three little words. It was always like hearing them for the first time, even though he'd heard them countless times before. He loved hearing you say them, feeling the warmth behind them. "Oh fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as you started moving again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "That's all I fucking need."

You continued to ride John, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned forward so that you could kiss him as you moved. You loved making love to John, especially now that you were pregnant. There was something about being intimate while carrying his babies that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

John groaned as you continued to ride him, your movements slow. He loved the way you moved atop him, how you kissed him passionately between thrusts. He could feel his climax building, his body responding to yours instinctively.

"Fucking hell, love," he gasped, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. "I'm gonna... oh fuck..."

You felt John's hands tightening on your thighs, you knew his climax building and you quickened your pace slightly. You leaned forward and kissed him again as you felt your own orgasm approaching. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight. "Oh God John!" you cried out as you came hard on top of him. John's climax hit him hard, his cock throbbing inside of you as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He groaned loudly, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself into you.

He felt your climax rip through you, your tight walls clenching around his still-hardening cock. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto you tightly as he continued to pump his seed deep within you. He could feel his balls tighten and churn, sending wave after wave of cum into you. "Holy fuck..." He breathed heavily, looking up at you with a satisfied grin. You placed your hands John's chest, panting heavily. You were still trembling slightly from your orgasm. You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the lips.

He let out a soft sigh as your fingers traced through his hair, the gentle touch sending shivers down his spine. He returned the kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate embrace. "That was... fuck, love," he said breathlessly, pulling back to look at you. "You're amazing."

"You're not too bad yourself" you replied with a laugh. Then you leaned down and kissed him again. This time you kissed his neck and then you kissed your way down to his collarbone. You then worked your way back up to his lips again. "I do love you. My wonderful husband" You whispered as you kissed him again. He chuckled softly as you teased him, complimenting him back. He loved the way you would always find ways to make him feel special, even after all these years together. "You know what they say about great minds, sweetheart," he joked, returning your kiss with enthusiasm. "They think alike."

"But seriously," he added, his voice growing serious. "I love you too, my beautiful wife. And I can't wait to start our family." You got off John and laid next to him, you kissed the side of his neck and then you laid your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and you closed your eyes. You felt content and happy. "I can't wait either" you whispered as you nuzzled into his chest "Only 6 months to go." John laid there quietly, listening to your soft whispers and the steady rhythm of your breathing. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he stroked your hair gently. "Just six more months," he repeated softly, echoing your words. "Then we'll finally get to meet our little ones."

You felt John get up and out of bed, "Where are you going?" You asked, your eyebrows slightly furrowing as you watched him put his boxers back on. John kissed your forehead with a small chuckle, "I'm looking after my darling wife and running her a well needed bath." He smiled warmly as he spoke, his hand gently caressing your cheek. The thought of taking care of you, of providing comfort and relaxation, brought a sense of satisfaction to him. "Besides," he added playfully, "I wouldn't mind seeing my gorgeous wife soaking in bubbles."

With a final kiss to your forehead, John left their bedroom and headed towards the bathroom. As he passed by the hallway mirror, he caught sight of his reflection - an older man, but one who was clearly devoted to his wife. A smile crept onto his face as he thought about their upcoming bundle of joys.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature of the water before pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. You sat up in bed and watched John leave the room. You looked down at your stomach and rubbed it gently and smiled as you thought about the babies growing inside of you. After a few minutes you got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you saw John filling the tub with warm water and bubbles. You smiled and walked over to him and hugged him from behind, snuggling your face into his bare back.

He turned around to face you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently. "There's my lovely wife," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Go ahead and enjoy your bath. I'll be right here if you need anything." You nodded your head and stepped away from John, you stepped into the bathtub and sank down into the warm bubbles. You sighed contently as you relaxed in the tub while John sat on the floor next to the bath tub, when he isn't at the base or deployed he's stuck to you like glue, never lets you out of his sight. Even more so now that you're pregnant.

John sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching as you sank into the bubbles. His eyes followed the curve of your body, admiring your beauty despite your casual posture. "It won't be long now," he commented casually, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Before we have three miniature versions of you running around." You laughed lightly as you heard him speak. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub and looked over at him, "Well hopefully they take after their father a bit more than me" you teased, winking at him.

John chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock denial. He knew that he wasn't as physically fit as he used to be, but it was flattering to hear you suggest otherwise. "Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart," he said with a playful smirk. "You've kept this old man on his toes for years."

"Oh shut up" you rolled your eyes at John's comment but couldn't help but laugh. "You're not that old." He chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched you relax in the tub. Your laughter filled the room, a sound that always managed to brighten his day. "Well, I may not be ancient yet," he quipped jokingly, "But I certainly feel it sometimes."

"You're not even 40 yet" you giggled as you flicked some water at him. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub, "Ancient my arse" you mumbled with a smile. John laughed heartily at your comment, dodging the water you flicked at him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours lightly. "Touché," he said with a toothy grin. "But just remember, age brings wisdom...and plenty of grey hairs."

"Mhm I like the gray hairs" you leaned over to grab his chin so you could bring his face closer to yours. "My husband is turning into a silver fox," you placed a gentle kiss on his lips "And here I was thinking you couldn't get any sexier." John's cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and something deeper. He returned your kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You're too kind, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But I must admit, hearing you say things like that does make an old man feel quite flustered."

You winked at John as you moved back into the bubbles, letting them cover your chest. Your hands slid through your wet hair as you sighed contently. "I can tell you're blushing" you teased him again. He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide his blush. He loved these playful exchanges with you, finding them endearing and enjoyable. "I am not!" he protested good-naturedly, though the slight pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. "Just...warm from sitting here."

"You, Johnathan Price, are an awful liar" you smirked as you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the bath, "You know better than to try and lie to your wife." John groaned slightly, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in your words; you had always been able to read him like an open book. "Fine, maybe I'm blushing a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But only because you make me feel so...special."

You laughed softly as you felt John's hand brush against yours. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, smiling warmly. "That's because you are special" you said softly, "To me you're everything." His heart swelled at your words, his grip tightening around your hand. He brought your knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on them. "And you, my dear wife," he said sincerely, "Are everything to me."

You squeezed John's hand as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You smiled softly as you listened to John speak. You were truly blessed to have such a caring and loving man by your side, "I love you" you whispered softly. John's chest tightened at your words, his heart pounding in his chest (I don't think he can handle any more sweet words from you). He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips once more. "And I love you, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can ever express."

"Now will you be a dear and wash my back please" you smiled sweetly at him as you passed him a loofah and a bottle of your favourite, and expensive (John bought you 5 bottles. He doesn't care because he loves spoiling you), body wash. John nodded, taking the loofah and body wash from your hand. He poured a generous amount of the luxurious liquid onto the sponge, creating a rich lather before reaching behind you. "With pleasure," he said, his fingers gently massaging your skin as he worked the soap into your flesh. 

"It's the least I can do for my beautiful wife."

You let out a soft moan as John started washing your back. His touch was gentle but firm, making sure to scrub away all the dirt and grime from the day. It felt heavenly. "Just to think. You'll be shaving my legs for me in the next couple of months" you hummed at the thought. Your belly so swollen you can't even see your feet. John chuckled softly at your remark, his fingers continuing their gentle massage. He couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life - soon they would welcome three new members into their family. "That's right, love," he said with a hint of awe in his voice. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You turned to face John, resting your elbows on the edge of the bathtub as you looked up at him. Your fingers traced along the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. "I can't wait to meet our babies" you said softly. His heart swelled with pride and joy (Seriously. His heart will burst) at your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip tenderly. "I can't wait either, sweetheart," he gave you a warm smile. "You've made this old soldier very proud, sweetheart."

You kissed John's thumb as he brushed it across your lips. You then kissed his hand gently as you held it tightly in yours, you closed your eyes and sighed happily. "Keep talking like that and I'll cry" being pregnant sent your hormones crazy, making you very emotional at times. The other day you cried because you saw a Corgi. (A very happy, very loved and a very looked after corgi) John chuckled softly at your comment, squeezing your hand gently. He knew pregnancy had its ups and downs, but he also knew you were strong enough to handle anything life threw at you. "Apologies, darling," he teased. "Didn't mean to make you all sentimental."

You giggled softly as John helped you out of the bath, "don't apologize! I like seeing you being sweet and thoughtful" you said softly. "It's one of the many reasons why I fell for you." He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you stepped out of the tub. He wrapped a large towel around your body, carefully drying off each droplet of water from your skin. "And what else did you fall for?" He asked playfully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "My charm? My wit? Or perhaps my devilishly handsome looks?"

You rolled your eyes as John teased you. You leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear "Oh John, don't flatter yourself. It was definitely your cooking" you half joked, his cooking was defiantly the one things that drew you in. John feigned a look of hurt, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ouch, sweetheart," he said teasingly. "After all these years, I thought you finally realized it was my irresistible charm that won you over."

"But if you insist on believing it's my cooking," he added with a playful wink, "I suppose I can't argue with that." You poked John's chest lightly as you walked past him and to your bedroom. You grabbed one of John's old t-shirts and slipped it on, turning to face him. "Come to bed, old man" you called to him. With a chuckle, John followed your command, stripping off his boxers before slipping under the covers beside you. He pulled you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "And don't you forget it," he murmured against your skin. "Best cook in the world right here."

You giggled softly as John nuzzled into your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. It always drove him wild, "Goodnight baby" you whispered softly. John sighed contentedly at your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggled closer to you. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Good night, sweetheart," he murmured softly, already feeling himself drift off to sleep.

As you drifted off to sleep, John lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. He traced his fingers along your arm gently, taking in the scent of your hair and savouring the moment. There was something truly magical about sharing a bed with the woman he loved, especially now that they were expecting triplets. Life didn't get any better than this, he thought to himself as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, John wasn't laid next to you like he always is. You slowly got out of bed and made your way downstairs to find the house was spotless, every surface gleaming and everything put away neatly. John was in the living room, reading the newspaper while sipping his tea. As soon as he heard you coming down, he folded the paper and set it aside, setting his mug down as well. "Mornin', sweetheart," he greeted you with a warm smile, getting up to give you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the kitchen.

You returned John's greeting with a small smile, walking over to sit on the couch. You watched as John went to make breakfast, shaking your head slightly as you did so. "You're spoiling me" you called to him. John returned to the living room, a plate of toast and eggs in hand. He sat down beside you, handing you the plate before sitting back comfortably in his seat. "Can't have my pregnant wife doing all the work," he said with a gentle smirk. "Besides, it's not everyday we get to enjoy this peace and quiet."

You took the plate of food from John, smiling softly as you started to eat. You rested your hand on your stomach, thinking about the babies growing inside you. "We should look at houses today." He nodded in agreement, finishing off his own breakfast before putting his empty plate on the coffee table. He turned to face you, resting a hand on your thigh comfortingly. "I've been looking at some places online," he admitted. "But nothing really caught my eye... yet."

You finished your breakfast, rubbing your belly gently as you thought about the babies. You smiled softly as you looked at John, "I'm thinking somewhere in the countryside, with a big garden. Maybe a field. Could even get some chickens." John chuckled softly at your idea, picturing their little family running around in a big garden with a bunch of chickens. "That does sound nice, sweetheart," he agreed. "And maybe we could even get a dog... or two."

"And a nice big house. Do what we want with it" you laughed softly as you imagined having a farmyard. You stood up stretching your arms above your head, yawning softly. "Build anything we want for the kids, like a slide, mini zip line attached to a tree house" John listened attentively to your ideas, nodding along in agreement. The thought of building such things for their children filled him with excitement and joy. "That sounds absolutely perfect, sweetheart," he said warmly. "A proper home for our little ones..." He paused for a moment, gazing at you lovingly before adding, "and a place where we can grow old together."

You blushed slightly as you saw the love in John's eyes. You stood there for a moment, watching as John got up and stretched too. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close for a soft kiss. John melted into the kiss, returning it with equal parts passion and tenderness. His hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you tightly against him. When they broke apart, both of them were panting slightly, but there was no denying the love and desire in each other's eyes. "You keep kissing me like that, sweetheart," he said with a low growl, "and we might end up forgetting about house hunting altogether."

You giggled softly as you felt John's hands on your hips. You kissed his cheek softly, pressing your body against his "That sounds like a very tempting offer, but I think we need to go house hunting first. Then we can come home and do what we please." You gave him one lass kiss on his chin before walking back upstairs to changed into some clothes for the day. Even though your words were teasing, John couldn't help but feel excited by the promise behind them. He watched you walk away, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your ass.

You walked upstairs, humming softly as you went into the bedroom. You was looking through your wardrobe for some clothes when you suddenly felt warm. Too warm. You felt faint and dizzy. You took a deep breath and sat on your bed. "Fucking hell" you mumbled before running to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing your curse, John immediately came running after you. Seeing you throwing up, he knelt down beside you, stroking your back soothingly as you purged your system. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured, sounding concerned. "Do you need anything?"

You shook your head as you leaned away from the toilet, "I'm alright." Seeing the worry etched in Johns face you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm alright John. I promise, just a bit of morning sickness. That's all." John helped you onto your feet before you went to brush your teeth. He let out a relieved sigh upon hearing your assurance. Still, he couldn't help but worry a little, especially since you were carrying their triplets.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked, placing a hand on your belly protectively. "If you need to rest, then we can postpone house hunting for another day." His voice was filled with concern and love, wanting nothing more than to ensure your wellbeing and that of their unborn children. You brushed your teeth, rinsing your mouth out before spitting into the sink. You wiped your mouth on a towel before turning to face him, "John. Stop fretting, I'm okay." You smiled softly before you went back to the bedroom to change. 

Sensing that you didn't want to be fussed over, John reluctantly stopped hovering. However, his protective instincts kicked in hard when it came to you, so he made sure to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on you as you changed into a sundress. "You've got that look, John." You didn't even need to glance at him to sense the anxiety etched upon his visage.

With effortless grace, you moved towards him, nestling between his thighs. Your gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head upward. Silence fell between you, yet the unspoken words resonated through your souls.

Your gaze roamed his features, each one a masterpiece in itself. His cerulean eyes held the depth and mystery of the ocean, their surface shimmering under the ambient light. A single freckle graced his nose, a charming reminder of his endearing imperfections.

And his lips—oh, those lips! They whispered sweet nothings in the darkness, painting vivid dreams upon the whispers of the night. As you gazed upon his face, you felt an overwhelming sense of admiration and love that eclipsed all else. 

At your touch, John felt himself melt. Your fingers were always magic, able to soothe away the worries that plagued him like ghosts. When you tilted his head back, exposing his throat, he couldn't resist a small shiver. Butchered as he was by war, you had pieced him back together, making him whole again. And right now, he was basking in your warmth, letting your touch do its healing work. Your eyes held an intensity that pierced right through to his soul. "I can't help it, sweetheart," his voice rumbled with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "You know I'd do anything for you." You smile softly, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. "I know you would, John. But you're worrying over nothing. I'm fine. It's just morning sickness" you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your palm.

As your lips met his own, John couldn't help but feel his worries fade away. The sensation of your soft lips against his own was enough to make everything else seem insignificant. "But you're worth worrying about, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "I can't help but worry when it comes to you and our babies." You run your fingers through his hair, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him once more, "One of the many reasons I love about you. One of the many reason why I said yes when you asked me to marry you." You pulled away from John and admired him one more time.

He couldn't help but lean into your touch. He loved the way you made him feel, adored the way you looked at him as if he were the most precious thing in your world. "And one of the many reasons I worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with affection and devotion. "You're my everything. My rock, my lover, my best friend..."

He paused for a moment, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his chest. "My wife..."

Your eyes sparkled with love and happiness as you listened to John. You leaned down and kissed him again, this time not holding back. Your tongue slipped past his lips, exploring his mouth hungrily. After pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, panting slightly. Your body tingled with anticipation, craving for more. Your hands started to roam over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, making him shudder with pleasure. "You’re such a good man, John. So caring, so loving..." You murmured, biting your lip as you watched his reactions to your touches. Feeling your tongue slide past his lips, John couldn't help but respond in kind. Their tongues danced together, a slow and sensual tango that left them both breathless.

When they finally broke apart, John could see the desire in your eyes. It mirrored his own, burning bright and hot. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as you explored his body. "And you're my everything, sweetheart," he murmured back, his voice husky with desire. "The woman who stole my heart and made me the happiest man alive."

Your hands continued to explore his body, sliding up to caress his chest. You bit your lip, watching him closely as you spoke "We should go house hunting soon... " You giggled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. Hearing you giggle sent a thrill down his spine. He loved hearing that sound, "We will, sweetheart," John assured you, his voice dropping lower as he watched you bite your lip. He loved watching you, seeing the desire in your eyes and the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands slid down to rest on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled you onto his lap. He groaned softly, feeling his cock twitch at the contact.

Softly, you gasp as John's hand reaches out to squeeze your ass, the electricity of his touch igniting your body. Your hips grind against his, the wetness between your legs seeping through your panties and his pants.

"John," you murmur, your voice a ragged whisper. "We need to...to..."

The words die in your throat as John's tongue invades your mouth, silencing any coherent thought. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands roaming your body, igniting a fire that consumes you. You're helpless in his embrace, addicted to the rush of his touch, the taste of his kiss. The house hunting you had planned becomes an afterthought, lost in the haze of desire that envelops you. Feeling you squirm against him only fuelled his desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring each curve and valley until he reached your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"Oh, sweetheart" John murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck. "We definitely need to..." His voice trailed off as he lifted you up, placing you on the dressing table near their bed. He quickly undid his pants, freeing his hard cock before pushing your dress up around your waist. "Just let me take care of that need for you," he murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your belly. Gasping as John presses a soft kiss to your belly, your back arches, pressing your stomach further into his lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the greying strands as you moan softly.

Your body trembles with need, every nerve ending on fire. Your pussy throbs, desperate for attention. Your nipples are hard points under your bra, begging for attention. "Please, John," you beg, biting your lip as you watch him approach your pussy. The sight of his thick cock makes your mouth water, but right now, all you want is his tongue. Feeling your fingers tangle in his hair, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of desire. Your pleas only served to stoke the flames within him, driving him wild with lust.

With a swift move, he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them wider apart. His fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, pulling them aside. His gaze lingered on your pussy, drinking in the sight of your wet folds before lowering his head. His tongue darted out, licking along your slit teasingly before delving deeper. He groaned in delight as the taste of you filled his senses, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. A loud moan ripped from your throat as John's tongue lapped at your folds. Your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that delicious sensation. But then he pulls away, leaving you panting and needy. Your nails dig into his scalp, urging him to continue. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please don't fucking stop."

Hearing your plea, John couldn't help but smile against your pussy. He loved hearing you beg for him. He obliged, resuming his ministrations with renewed vigour. His tongue delved deeper into your folds, swirling around your clit before dipping inside you. He groaned in pleasure, feeling your walls clench around nothing as he fucked you with his tongue. His hands moved up to grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he devoured you. He was determined to make sure you came hard, screaming his name as you did.

Feeling your walls clench around nothing, John couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He loved making you feel good, loved seeing you lose control. He continued to lick at you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he felt you start to quake. He knew you were close, so he doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit as he thrust two fingers into your tight cunt. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your cunt, his voice muffled by your folds. He wanted to hear you scream his name, wanted to taste you as you came.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as John's tongue thrust deep inside you. Your whole body shook, pleasure rippling through your veins like wildfire. Your pussy clenched tight around his probing tongue. His name was a mantra on your lips, a prayer and a curse rolled into one. Over and over again, you screamed it as waves of orgasm crashed over you. Your juices gushed forth, soaking his face and staining his shirt. Feeling your walls clamp down on his tongue, John sucked in a breath through his nose, savouring the taste of you. He loved tasting you, loved the way your body quivered beneath his touch.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and tongue, cleaning himself off with his tongue before sitting back on his heels. His eyes were dark with lust as he looked up at you. He could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "You're such a fucking goddess," he said, his voice rough with desire. He stood up, towering over you as he gripped your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him.

Panting heavily, you could do nothing but nod in agreement. You were still trembling, your legs weak as a noodle. But even though you were shaking, there was a satisfied smirk on your face. You moaned softly as John gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. There was something about being held captive by those blue eyes of his that made you melt. You loved it, loved everything about this man. As he towered over you, looking down at you with that hungry expression, you found yourself reaching out to pull him closer. You needed more, needed him to fill you completely. Watching you reach out for him, John couldn't resist. He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. His kiss was possessive, demanding, but also gentle. It was a mix of love and hunger.

As you kissed, John reached down to position his cock at your entrance. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed inside you, groaning into your mouth as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Moaning into John's kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. Your tongue dances with his, lost in the intoxicating flavour that is uniquely John. The feeling of his cock filling you sends shivers down your spine. You gasp against his lips as he pushes deeper, stretching you wide. You can feel every inch of him, filling you completely. Your hips begin to rock against his, grinding down onto his length as you try to take more of him inside. Your body moves instinctively, seeking that sweet spot deep within you that only he can hit just right.

Feeling your hips grind against his, John couldn't hold back any longer. He began to thrust into you, setting a slow and deliberate pace. Every stroke was designed to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, making you moan and squirm underneath him. One hand left your face to grip her thigh, lifting it high over his hip as he pounded into you. The angle change had him hitting that spot even better, and soon he was groaning as well. His thrusts became harder, faster, as he chased his own release. His other hand left your face to wander lower, to tease at your swollen clit. He knew you were sensitive after your orgasm, but he also knew you liked it rough. So he teased you mercilessly, pinching and flicking until you were whimpering beneath him.

When his hand lifted your leg higher, you let out a strangled cry. The new angle had him hitting that sweet spot perfectly, and you could do nothing but beg for more. "Fuck... oh fuck, John!" You cried out, your voice raw and desperate. You his your face into his neck as you placed on hand on the dressing table underneath you to keep you up right.

Feeling your nails dig into his back, John couldn't help but grunt in satisfaction. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with all the strength in his powerful body. His balls tightened as he felt his climax approaching, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He groaned out your name, his voice hoarse with desire. He was close, so very close, and he knew he'd find his release soon. Feeling John's thrusts become more forceful, you can barely form words. All you can do is arch your back and scream his name. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, trying to milk him for his release.

"Oh God, John! I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again!" You cried out, your voice shaky and filled with desperation. You could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last one. Hearing your cries and feeling your pussy clench around his cock, John knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, pounding into you with abandon. But then you cried out that you were going to cum again, and that was all it took. With a roar of your name, he came hard inside you. His seed spilled deep within you, filling you up as he rode out his orgasm.

As he slowed down, he moved his hand away from your clit and instead wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He pressed his forehead against your as he panted for breath, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Gasping for air, you collapse against John, your body limp and sated. You can feel his hot cum spilling inside you, filling you up. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm. As you catch your breath, you lean into John, pressing soft kisses along his jawline.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, your voice soft and tender. You know that no matter what happens, you'll always have this - your love for each other. John gently pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his nose against your before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced small circles on your back as he held you close. Leaning into John's touch, you let out a content sigh. Feeling his fingers tracing small circles on your back, you relax further into his embrace. "We should probably clean up," you murmur, kissing his chin softly. You let out a little sigh as you feel his cock twitch inside you. "And go house hunting" you chuckled, you knew this would happen, not that you cared, you and John were addicted to each other.

Nodding slightly, John gave a soft hum of agreement. But there was no way he was moving from you yet. Not while he could still feel your warmth surrounding him, not when your thighs were spread apart like some kind of offering. His fingers kept tracing those lazy circles on your back as he watched you, drinking in every detail of your flushed face, every bit of your exposed skin. And then he caught himself looking at your stomach, where three tiny lives were growing. "Yeah, we should definitely get cleaned up," he agreed, though his tone didn't sound very convinced about it. Sat on the dressing table with John, you smiled as you looked up at him. There was something incredibly sexy about seeing him all sweaty and panting after just making love to you. You reached up and stroked his cheek, letting your fingers trace down his bearded jawline.

"You're such a mess," you said playfully, smirking at him. You knew that if you didn't get him to move soon, he would throw you onto the bed. John grunted softly as your fingers traced over his beard, sending shivers down his spine. He was indeed a mess, but he didn't care. He was happy, satisfied, and in love. And right now, he didn't want to move. He gave you a smirk in return, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. "But I'm a mess because of you," he growled against your lips, pulling away only when he needed to breathe. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place. 

Caught off guard by John's sudden advance, you gasped into the kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips easily, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your arms snaked around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, you stared up at John, your grey eyes darkening with desire. You licked your lips subconsciously, tasting him even after the kiss has ended. "You better be," you replied, smirking at him once again. You knew that he would never change, that he would always be the same old John who was crazy about you.

John grinned at your response, his eyes darkening with lust. He loved how you teased him, how you pushed him until he was on the edge of control. It was part of what made their relationship so damn perfect. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, almost possessively. He loved that you were his, completely and utterly his. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly through the fabric of your dress. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, his hands leaving your ass abruptly. Before you could protest or react, he picked you up effortlessly and gently tossed you onto the bed, following you down with a growl of pure need.

With a squeal, you found yourself falling backwards onto the bed. The impact caused you to bounce slightly, your breasts jiggling enticingly underneath your dress. Looking up, you saw John looming over you, his eyes filled with raw desire. "Johnathan Price" you laughed and he pinned you on the bed, "no, we're looking for a house today and that's final."

Hearing your words, John let out a frustrated groan. But he knew you were right. They did need to find a new house, one big enough for their growing family. However, that didn't stop him from wanting you, needing you. His body craved yours, desired you. And right now, he didn't give a damn about anything else except for you. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, rolling off you and lying next to you on the bed instead. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair. "But don't think this means you've won," he added, giving you a pointed look. His hand moved lower, reaching under your dress to cup your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

Rolling onto your side to face John, you placed a finger on his lips silencing him. You knew that he would keep arguing with you and you weren't going to let that happen. "Don't argue with me mister" you raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He grunted softly, feeling your finger press against his lips. But he couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. Despite his gruff exterior, he loved these moments - the ones where they bickered like an old married couple. It was proof that they belonged together, that they fit perfectly.

But despite everything, he couldn't resist pressing his lips against your finger, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swiped across the pad of your finger before releasing it slowly. "Don't tell me what to do, sweetheart," he said with a smirk, even as he kept his hand under your dress. His thumb began rubbing slow, gentle circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gently wrapped your hand around his throat, just below his jaw and leaned in so your breath was hot on his face, "you may be the Captain of the Task Force but I am your wife." You licked his lips and pulled away with a smirk, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from your thigh.

Feeling your hand wrap around his throat, John allowed a low growl to escape his lips. You had no idea how much that turned him on, how much he loved the thought of you marking him, claiming him as yours. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when you removed his hand from under your dress. A frown formed on his face, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he saw the playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, leaning in close to your ear. His voice was low, husky with desire. He nibbled on your earlobe gently before pulling back. "Well then, Mrs. Price," he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck towards her collarbone, "I suppose I should remind you who's the boss in our bedroom."

"Johnathan Price, stop it" 

Your breath hitched as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. When his lips trailed down your neck, you bit your lip, trying not to moan out loud. Goddamn, why does he have to know exactly what buttons to push? He heard your sharp intake of breath, felt the shiver that ran down your spine. The sight of you biting your lip, trying to hold back those moans, only served to fuel his own desires. It was clear that you were enjoying this, even if you were trying to act all tough. Ignoring your protests, he continued his trail of kisses down your neck, stopping just above the swell of your breasts. His hand came up, fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin material of your dress.

"I can't seem to help myself, love," he murmured huskily. "I'm addicted to you."

You whimpered, feeling his lips on your neck and his fingers trace along your breast. Your nipples were hard already, poking through your bra and dress. God, you wanted him so badly right now. He was your addiction too, you couldn't stay away from him either. "John..." You whispered his name, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we don't go now..... We'll never find a house." Feeling your nipple harden beneath his touch, John couldn't resist teasing it further. His fingers circled around the stiff peak, pressing just enough to elicit a gasp or a moan from you. He loved hearing your sounds, loved knowing that he could make you feel good.

His other hand snaked its way between your thighs, his fingers finding your wetness through the fabric of your panties. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how soaked you were. Damn, you were ready for him. "You're absolutely right," he agreed, even though there was a clear note of reluctance in his voice. "We should probably get moving." Despite saying that, he didn't move away. Instead, he pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over you. His blue eyes locked onto yours, full of lust and love.

As he hovered over you, your hands reached up, gripping his hips tightly. You needed something to hold onto because goddamn, he was making you lose focus. Every single time he touched you, you lost control. "Fuck, John." You muttered under your breath, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your nails dug slightly into his flesh as you tried to regain some sort of control over yourself.

But it was hopeless. As soon as he started moving again, you'd be putty in his hands. Or rather, you'd be melting underneath him. Feeling your nails dig into his skin, John let out a low groan. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his cock, which was already throbbing painfully against your thigh. "But fuck, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with desire. "You make it so damn hard to think straight." He moved away from you, standing up fully. But instead of heading for the door, he took a moment to strip off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso. Then, he turned around, giving you a perfect view of his ass encased in tight fatigues as he found a clean shirt to wear.

Watching him take off his shirt, you swallowed hard. God, he looked so fucking sexy. And the way he moved... it was like watching a predator move. Powerful, confident, and deadly. When he turned around, showing off his firm ass, you couldn't help but lick your lips. You wanted nothing more than to bite down on that perfect roundness. To leave marks on him that would show everyone who he belong too. But you knew better than to do that. Because once you start, you wouldn't stop until he was completely marked up. So instead, you settled for ogling him as he searched for another shirt. Feeling your eyes on him, John couldn't help but flex his muscles a little more. He loved the way you watched him, the hunger in your eyes. It made him feel powerful, desirable.

He found a clean shirt and slipped it on. The fabric clung to his muscles perfectly, highlighting them even more. Then, he turned around, giving you another perfect view of his body. His cock strained against the confines of his pants, clearly outlined by the fabric.

"Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart," he warned. "And I might just forget about finding us a house."

With that, he started walking towards the door. But he paused for a moment, turning around to give you one last look. His blue eyes were dark with desire, and they held a silent promise. You licked your lips again, your eyes following him as he walked to the door. The sight of his cock straining against his pants made your mouth water. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside of you. When he turned around to look at you one last time, you almost melted on the spot. That silent promise echoed in your mind, and you knew that tonight, you'd be getting everything you wanted. So you stood up and went to the bathroom to quickly freshen up (And clean the mess between your thighs John made earlier) before meeting him at the front door.

The sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the countryside as you and John pulled up to the final house on the list. You had spent the entire afternoon going from one house to another, but none of them had felt like home. This one looked promising from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another disappointment waiting to happen. You stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in your stomach. John squeezed your hand reassuringly and you walked towards the front door. The estate agent greeted you with a warm smile and led you inside.

The house was spacious and well-lit, but it lacked the charm and character you were hoping for. The rooms were too formal and the layout didn't feel right for a family. You could imagine your children running through the halls, but it just didn't feel like home. As they walked through the empty rooms, John could see the disappointment in your eyes. He could understand why this place wasn't feeling right for you. It was too big, too cold, lacking the warmth only a home could provide. It was clear you weren't happy here, and that broke his heart.

When they finally exited the house, John could see the relief in your eyes. You were disappointed, but you also seemed hopeful. There was still hope that they would find a place they both liked. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you support.

"We'll find a place, sweetheart," he assured you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "It's just a matter of time."

With that, he opened the car door for her, letting her slide into the passenger seat. Once you were seated in the car, you looked over at John. His reassurances always managed to lift your spirits, no matter how gloomy things seemed. You smiled softly at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," you said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

Your fingers intertwined with his, and you held on tight. They may not have found a home yet, but you knew they would. Together, they would build a life, a home, a future. Feeling you squeeze his hand, John gave you a small smile. It was moments like these that reminded him of what truly mattered in life - not the houses or the money, but the people. You were worth more than any house or mansion ever could be.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, his voice soft but filled with love. "I'm just glad I can be there for you." He waited until you were buckled up before starting the engine. The drive back home was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was peaceful, actually. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing even. It was a rare moment of tranquillity in their chaotic lives.

As John pulled into the driveway, you glanced at your phone. A text from Gaz, your friend, popped up. 'How's house hunting going, lovebirds?'

You let out a sigh. 'Not great. Nothing feels like home.'

You typed back your reply, 'None of the homes we've seen feel right.'

Moments later, Gaz's response lit up your screen. 'I may have found a home. Here's the address.'

Confusion washed over you. "Gaz found a house?" You told John, handing him your phone.

Seeing the message from Gaz, John raised an eyebrow. The man never failed to surprise him. He took the phone and read the message, a smirk forming on his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath. He handed the phone back to you. "Looks like Gaz has something up his sleeve." Even though he trusted Gaz, the fact that the man hadn't mentioned anything about a house earlier was a bit concerning. But then again, Gaz had a habit of keeping secrets. Sometimes it was because he was being secretive, other times it was simply because he forgot to mention things. Still, if Gaz thought it was worth checking out, then maybe there was something to it after all. After all, Gaz had a knack for finding hidden gems.

You arrived at the charming countryside abode, where Gaz greeted you with a warm smile. "My friend's selling this gem," he said. "You've got the first peek."

As you stepped inside, your heart skipped a beat. It was a picture of blissful perfection. Rolling hills stretched beyond the lush field, ideal for chickens and even a few cows. A thriving allotment overflowed with fresh produce. The backyard was a veritable playground, begging for a treehouse, a zip line and what ever else John decides to build. You couldn't help but imagine your future children scampering about, their laughter echoing through the serene countryside.

But the house itself took your breath away. From the cosy living room to the spacious bedrooms, every detail exuded comfort and charm. You couldn't believe your luck. It was everything you had ever dreamed of—a place to raise a family, to create a lifetime of memories. The moment he stepped foot inside, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. This place...it just felt right. As if it was meant to be their home. He noticed the way your eyes lit up as you explored each room. Your excitement was contagious, making him grin widely. It was hard to deny that this was indeed a perfect spot for raising kids.

"Damn, Gaz..." he muttered appreciatively, giving him a firm slap on the back. "This is fucking perfect." And just like that, he knew this was it. This was their home. No matter how many places they'd seen today, nothing compared to this quaint little cottage nestled in the middle of nowhere. Your eyes shone with unshed tears of joy as you turned around to look at John. Seeing his approval made your heart swell with happiness. "It's perfect, isn't it?" You asked, your voice filled with awe and wonder. "Like it was waiting for us."

You ran over to John and threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you close against his chest. You could hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat underneath your ear, and it soothed you like nothing else. "I love it, John." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the emotion behind those words was palpable. Holding you close, John felt a surge of emotions welling up within him. This was it. This was their new beginning, their forever. And damn, did it make him proud.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. "It's absolutely perfect." His hands roamed over your body, squeezing gently before letting you go. He needed both hands free to properly appreciate the beauty of the house. "And I love it too, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with warmth and affection. You turned to Gaz and brought him for a big hug, "Thank you so much Gaz. "Watching you thank Gaz, John couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration for the man. He might act like a dick sometimes, but deep down, Gaz was one of the best friends anyone could ask for.

"That's my boy," he grumbled, clapping Gaz on the shoulder before turning back to you. "Don't know why you're thanking him though. We're the ones who are getting the house." Despite his teasing tone, there was genuine gratitude in his eyes. Gaz had done good. Real good. "But yeah, thanks mate," he added, slinging an arm around your waist as he led you towards the front door. "For finding this place and all."

With that, he opened the door and ushered you outside, ready to start planning their new life together.

[grandmother-goblin]

Savory and Sweet

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: After Astarion finally confesses to his attempted manipulations and his real feelings for Orakith, he realizes that she didn't respond as well as he had initially thought. And Astarion was not about to let their first night in a real relationship end on a sour note.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Mature (for non-explicit sexual content)

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Fluff, humor, non-explicit sexual content, comfort, Gale makes a minor appearance.

The weight on Astarion’s conscious had finally lifted after he came clean to Orakith about, well, nearly everything. About how he had lied to her, about how he manipulated her feelings, how he tried to make her fall for him without falling for her, and how that spectacularly backfired.

If he was being completely honest, he had no idea how Orakith would respond to his confession. She was the sweet sort — innocent and a bit naive. She was the type to help people, cry over a sleeping fawn or baby bunny, and make flower crowns when they stopped for a rest.

She was also a sorceress whose favored spells involved fire and poison, so she wasn’t the kind of person Astarion wanted to needlessly upset. Though he didn’t think she would ever direct that sort of magical wrath toward him, experience told him to remain cautious.

Pissing off magic users was rarely a good idea. Especially ones who didn’t have the best control over said magic.

Oraktih had listened to his explanation as his slow, undead heart pounded like the living. Her eyes were wide but her expression was nearly unreadable — then again, Astarion always had a little trouble reading her. When he had said all that he needed to, she pulled him into an embrace that was so perfect and warm that he never wanted her to let go.

“I care about you, Astarion,” she had said as she buried her face in his shoulder. “You mean the world to me and I’m so happy to have you as part of my life.”

There had been something slightly off about her voice. It was sincere, Astarion had no doubts about that. But it had a certain edge to it that Orakith only got when something went disastrously wrong, or she was trying to stay positive and keep up morale as the world burned around them.

She sounded happy.

Too happy.

When she stepped out of the embrace, she gave him a watery smile as she linked her little finger around his. “Thank you for telling me.”

It seemed everything went as well as it could have gone: Orakith didn’t get angry with him, she didn’t end their relationship, she didn’t even accidentally light him on fire in a surge of magic.

In fact, she gave him the sweetest, lingering kiss on his cheek before bidding him goodnight.

So when he heard soft sniffles and shaky sobs coming from her tent nearly an hour later, that weight that had been lifted off his consciousness dropped directly onto his heart.

Shit.

He knew the sounds of someone trying to hide that they were crying all too well. The common courtesy under Cazador’s roof was simply to ignore whoever was upset. The spawn seldom had a moment of privacy, and they all broke down in tears at one point or another, and it was just easier to pretend it never happened because nothing could be done to make things better. Ignoring it was so deeply ingrained within him, Astarion nearly walked right past her tent simply out of habit.

If he had to take a wild guess, he could only assume Orakith’s tears had something to do with their conversation.

Astarion knelt beside the entrance of her tent, noting how golden tendrils of translucent magic tied the opening shut. “Orakith?” Astarion whispered tentatively. “Are you alright, my love?”

“I’m good.” Somehow, she managed to inject that falsely positive tone even through a stuffy nose.

She most certainly was not okay, considering how she decided to use her magic to effectively lock herself in her tent. “I can’t help but feel that, given our earlier conversation, you might be a bit upset with me.”

“I’m not upset with you,” she replied far too quickly.

“Darling.” Astarion tsked and shifted a little closer — close enough he could see her back turned toward him through the little slit in the entrance. “If you’re upset with me, I would really like to sort this out with you. Preferably sooner rather than later. Gods knows our friends are like vultures when it comes to any sort of… interpersonal issues.”

“Really, I’m okay.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re obviously not, so may I please come in?”

“I just need some sleep.”

“Orakith.”

Trees creaked and swayed in the midnight breeze. A lone sniffle penetrated the sounds of rushing water from the nearby river, but otherwise, she didn’t respond.

Astarion sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Part of him wanted to just crawl into her tent anyways, but he couldn’t with that magic keeping the tent sealed. It likely wouldn’t harm him, but he felt trying to dispel it and breaking into her tent was a bit too much even for him.

If she had wanted him to leave her alone, he trusted her to tell him — she had no problem doing so in the past. As much as hearing her cry tugged at his heartstrings, he would respect her decision. But she hadn’t asked him to leave, so he assumed that she just didn’t want to let him see her upset.

Which was a little ridiculous, when he thought about it. He had seen her cry before. Plenty of times, in fact. But most of those tears were the joyful sort — like when Scratch first showed up at their camp, or when Wyll made a joke at just the right moment, or when she found a trader who happened to sell her favorite cheese despite it being hard to come by.

An idea struck him and Astarion pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and didn’t wait for a response as he made a beeline toward Gale’s tent.

Orakith had bought that trader’s entire supply of that particular cheese. Since it was more perishable than some of their other rations, Gale had offered her the use of a magic bag that he claimed would preserve the food for longer. Astarion hadn’t seen Orakith ask for the cheese since, so he assumed Gale still had it (provided that he didn’t eat it himself).

Softening his steps, Astarion crouched as he approached Gale’s tent. If he remembered correctly, Gale always kept his bags near the entrance of the tent, so all Astarion had to do was keep quiet as he —

“What are you doing?” Gale asked, a floating light above his book brightening with the question, casting an accusatory spotlight right on Astation’s face.

Damn. He was so caught up in trying to cheer up Orakith, he was only focused on getting the cheese from Gale’s pack without waking him up and never considered that Gale might not be asleep in the first place.

Astarion blinked at him.

Closing his book, Gale raised his brows in response like a teacher awaiting an explanation from a student as to why their homework was late.

“I missed you.”

Gale kicked at where Astarion’s knee pinned down the corner of his bedroll. “The real reason, Astarion.”

When the first couple of excuses that crossed his mind were somehow more ridiculous than the truth, Astarion sighed. “Orakith and I had a talk tonight and she’s a bit upset. Everything is fine, I think. I just wanted to bring her something to cheer her up and I know her favorite cheese is in your bag.”

Something about Gale’s expression softened. “Aww,” he said as an indulgent smile spread across his lips. “You really fancy her, don’t you?”

Astarion ran his hand through his hair impatiently. “Yes. Now give me the cheese. Please.”

A quiet chuckle shook Gale’s shoulders as he tugged the bag toward him, quickly finding a wedge of cheese that was wrapped in wax paper and about the size of his palm. “Here.”

“Just like that?” He carefully took the offering, half-expecting Gale to zap him the moment the wrapper touched his fingertips.

“Just like that,” Gale replied. “Besides, it’s not like it’s mine. Though, I would strongly suggest that you just ask me next time, hmm? But who am I to judge? Love can make fools of us all, and a bit of cheese is hardly the most foolish thing someone has tried to steal in the name of it. Believe me, I would know.”

Love. He wasn’t sure he would call it love, per say. His feelings toward Orakith certainly weren’t ones that he was familiar with, but it felt far too soon to call it ‘love.’

Hells, just a few hours ago he acknowledged out loud that his feelings were real. Love was far too much, but the thought of it didn’t fill him with disgust, envy, or apprehension.

It filled him with something like hope, and that was terrifying all on its own.

Astarion gave Gale a curt nod. “Thank you,” he said and he backed out of the tent as Gale bid him goodnight.

Well, that didn’t go as planned, but it certainly could have gone much worse.

Pushing that slightly awkward moment with Gale to the back of his mind, Astarion returned to Orakith’s tent. He knelt by the entrance and listened for a moment. There wasn’t any sniffling or crying, which was a good sign. Maybe? Or perhaps she had just fallen asleep during his brief absence. He tapped on the side of the tent, quietly rustling the fabric and said, “I’m back, darling.”

No answer.

So either she was ignoring him, or she had actually fallen asleep. If she was asleep, he certainly wasn’t above waking her up. After everything they talked about that night, he was not going to let her cry herself to sleep.

Not without at least trying to make things right.

“I, uhh.” Astarion glanced down at the wedge of cheese in his hand and furrowed his brow. “I brought you some cheese.”

There was a small snort of laughter from inside the tent. “You brought cheese?”

It wasn’t exactly the most traditional way to bribe someone, but it was the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic gift either…

Perhaps he should have hunted down some flowers instead.

“Yes, and I had to talk to Gale to get it,” he replied, as if talking to the wizard was some torturous ordeal despite how he actually quite enjoyed Gale’s presence. Most of the time. “Now, may I please come in? I’d much prefer your company to his.”

“I’m not going to be the greatest company right now.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

He kept his tone light despite how his worries began to weigh him down. What if she changed her mind about him after she had had a bit more time to think? What if she couldn’t forgive him? What if her feelings for him couldn’t outweigh the pain he had caused her.

The entrance of the tent shimmered, and the anxiety balled up in his chest loosened as the magic keeping the opening sealed faded away. Not wasting another moment, Astarion crawled into the tent.

Inside, the only light came from a tiny dancing lights spell, each orb no bigger than a firefly. A faint amber glow and the moving shadows over soft furs and richly colored blankets gave the space a cozy yet magical feel to it. Crumpled up in the corner were the robes Orakith had been wearing earlier that evening.

Astarion frowned.

As long as he had known Orakith, she had some deeply ingrained habit to fold clothes. Or any sort of fabric. It came from years of working as a washerwoman, she had said. She found it soothing. He couldn’t even remember a time when Orakith hadn’t folded her clothes.

Or his clothes, for the matter.

Hells, even the first time they had had sex she ridiculously folded her clothes before she let him ravish her. It was probably the first time in decades that he had genuinely laughed with someone he was going to sleep with.

“Don’t judge me,” she said with poorly concealed mirth as his hand slipped around her waist from behind. “I don’t want my stuff to get wrinkled. I’ll get yours next.”

Astarion slowly kissed her neck, her pulse racing beneath his lips. His fingertips traced the firm contours of her abdomen. “A bit of rumpled clothing is all part of the fun.”

“Until you lose a sock.”

A laugh that was more like a smile passed his lips as Orakith carefully tossed her folded trousers atop her other clothes. His hand ventured lower, teasingly close to the heat between her legs without actually touching her there. “What’s a lost sock compared to getting lost in one another?”

“Cold toes, for one,” she said, seemingly unfazed by his wandering hands. “Where did you put your shirt? I’m folding it before — ”

She squeaked when he pulled her down on top of him, and then rolled her onto her back in the grass. Astarion pinned her hands above her head. “You really want to spend your time doing that when you could do something so much more — ” he delicately nipped at the corner of her jaw — “pleasurable.”

If she wanted to, she could easily escape his hold on her. Instead she laced her fingers through his, her eyes playful and bright beneath the light of the moon. “I think you’ll find it very pleasurable when you don’t have to wear a wrinkled shirt tomorrow morning.”

“Shh.” Astarion kissed down the column of her throat to her collarbone as she drew in a shaky breath. “Why don’t we just enjoy each other, hmm?”

She swallowed and nodded. “I’ll get them later.”

Astarion began to fold her clothes as the memory faded away. It wasn’t much, but it was a little something he could do for her. Or at the very least, it was one less thing she had to do for herself.

She kept her back turned toward him, still curled up in a fetal position, as he tucked the neatly folded garments in the corner of the tent. Not knowing the best place to put the cheese, he just set it on top of the pile since he didn’t expect it would stay there for very long.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she said stuffily.

“It was no trouble at all, my love.” Astarion crawled onto the empty space beside her on her bedroll, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of her body.

As much as he wanted to lay down beside her and pull her against his chest, he remained sitting. Orakith normally liked being held, and he realized that he quite liked holding her in turn, but it didn’t feel like the right time for that. Instead, he placed a (hopefully) comforting hand on her bare shoulder and just watched her for a moment.

Soft golden light from her spell highlighted the ruby red and deep orange veins of color that blazed through her soft jade scales like flames through a prairie. Her iridescent sheen almost made it seem like her scales were always changing colors — so much so that many people couldn’t tell she was a green dragonborn at first glance. Most assumed that she was bronze or gold or copper due to the pigment granted by her draconic ancestry.

Yet when Astarion first saw her, he just thought she looked like a giant gecko.

Now whenever he looked at her his heart ached with a kind of affection he had one believed he could never feel again.

Prior to meeting Orakith, he had never given dragonborn much thought. There were only a handful of them in the city, and Cazador forbade his spawn from hunting them simply because dragonborn were so rare and people tended to keep close tabs on them. Or, at least, that was the reason Cazador gave — he probably just didn’t want to bite through a hide of scales.

For all the times he hadn’t paid attention to dragonborn before, he was certainly making it up now.

Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss for words. Comforting someone who was upset, especially someone he cared about, was completely foreign territory. What in the Hells was he supposed to say? ‘There, there, I know you’re upset about me lying to you and manipulating you, but can you please stop crying because you’re making me feel even guiltier than I did before?’

Because that would go over so well.

Orakith’s arm shifted beneath his hand as she wiped at her face with the heel of her palm. “I’m sorry,” she said with a weak laugh, as if part of her was still trying to convince him that she was perfectly fine. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“I can hardly see you at all, my love.” In an attempt to get her to look at him, Astarion gently tugged at her shoulder. “Roll this way so I don’t have to have a conversation with the back of your skull.”

She shook her head. “My face is a mess.”

“I have a handkerchief. Now roll over.”

With a huff, and thankfully very little fight, she flopped onto her back. Draping her arm over her eyes, she gave out an exasperated and pathetic whine. “I feel like a big baby.”

“You are a big baby,” Astarion said as he retrieved the handkerchief Orakith had embroidered with his name and delicate purple asters and morning glories from his pocket, “but not for being upset about — well, what I think you’re upset about.”

The corner of her lips twitched into a smile but it quickly faded away. “I shouldn’t be upset at all. You just told me something huge and here I am, making it all about me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Astarion brought the handkerchief to her dampened cheek and gently nudged her arm aside as he dried her face. “This is about you too. And if you’re upset then I would be a piss-poor boyfriend if I just let you cry it out.”

The smile returned to her face, bigger than before, but this time it didn’t immediately fade away. Oraktih never showed her teeth when she smiled, even going so far as to cover her mouth when she laughed. She said she didn’t want to frighten people. But Astarion’s stomach did a funny little flip when he caught a glimpse of white in her smile.

As far as he knew, he was the only person she let herself smile in front of without hiding it. It was a little thing, but it felt special. It made him feel special.

Bright, wet, orange eyes, glowing like a warm hearth, looked up at him as he traced her sharp cheekbone with the handkerchief. “Boyfriend?”

“Partner, lover, your little love leech — pick your poison, darling,” he said as he blotted at her face more playfully.

A giggle bubbled from her throat, and the sound was enough to make him smile in turn. Even if she was a little upset with him, at least he could still make her laugh. And she didn’t feel the need to hide it either.

That had to count for something

As her laughter subsided, Astarion tucked the slightly damp handkerchief back in his pocket. He lifted her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, gazing into the fire of her eyes as he did.

“I mean it,” he said as they both sobered, the mood considerably lighter than it had been just a minute ago. “I want what we have to be something real.”

Orakith sighed and watched the little dancing lights twinkling above them. “I do too,” she replied. “I mean, it was always real to me. But looking back on our early relationship now, I should have known that you weren’t always serious. I feel like a bit of a fool. And embarrassed. After all, the only time men, especially men as handsome as you, paid me any mind was when they wanted a discount on laundry services.”

Her tone was lighthearted and playful, but he could hear the hurt buried beneath.

“I never thought I stood a chance with you,” she went on as she picked at something nonexistent on one of her claws, “but when you asked me to spend the night with you at the party… and you actually met up with me…. Gods, I was afraid I was dreaming. No one had ever wanted me like that before, and I liked you so much that I was afraid I was going to mess everything up.”

Her eyes flickered back to his. “You were my first everything. My first kiss. My first time…. I was so nervous I think I started folding clothes,” she added with a laugh.

“Hold on,” he said as he raised his brows, his heart sinking in his chest. “You never told me that I was your first.”

As if he needed to feel like even more of a jackass, he had to add taking her virginity while he was manipulating her to his list of crimes.

Gods, how had he not noticed? Perhaps it was because she docilely let him take the lead that night. If he had noticed any nervousness on her part, he must have passed it off as the typical bit of uncertainty that came with sleeping with someone new. Not that the entire experience was new to her.

Orakith gave a little shrug. “Some of the washerwomen said that being so inexperienced at my age might scare some men off,” she said as if being in her mid twenties made her some sort of spinster. “They’d think I was saving myself, or that maybe something was wrong with me. Baldur’s Gate is a human city and…. Well, more people look at dragonborn as more of a curiosity than a romantic prospect.”

Astarion laced his fingers with hers. “Almost feel sorry for the poor fools that missed out on knowing how incredible you are. Almost.”

She gazed up at him and gave his hand a little squeeze. “You really mean that?”

“Do you really think I would go through all this effort if I didn’t?” he said and gestured toward where the cheese sat on top of her clothes. “I’ve never met anyone who cares the way you do, and I was an idiot for not seeing that sooner.”

A fresh tear rolled down her face, and for a brief moment, Astarion thought he had said the wrong thing before a little smile pulled at her lips. Her eyes crinkled with such genuine affection that it made his heart ache.

Astarion wiped away the tear with his thumb. Then he laid down beside her, propping his head up with his hand, and tsked. “You really are a mess tonight, aren’t you?”

“I warned you,” Orakith replied and shifted downward so she could nuzzle her face against his chest. “I would have been fine by the morning. I just needed some time to process.”

He slipped his hand behind the delicate that framed her face and she gave a little sigh of contentment. “For what it’s worth, my oh-so-brilliant plan backfired long before we first spent the night together.”

The tip of her tail draped over his calves as she slung her arms around his torso, hugging him closer. “That does make me feel a little better. So does you being here.”

“I also brought you cheese,” he recalled and trapped her tail between his legs.

She giggled. “That also helped.”

The floating lights above them dimmed as a comfortable silence fell between them. Astarion idly traced the scales on her back as a sense of calm gently washed over him. The doubt that had been lingering in his mind faded away with each passing second.

“Stay with me tonight?” she asked quietly, her voice muffled against his shirt. “We don’t have to do anything, I just like waking up next to you.”

Though it was new to him, Astarion liked waking up next to her as well. It was a pleasant surprise to go to bed with someone and have them still be there in the morning. He wasn’t sure how many more nights he would get with her like this, and he wasn’t about to waste a single one.

Even so, he sighed as if she had asked him to complete some insurmountable task. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I can do that.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated!

[faithshouseofchaos]

“The magic is just an added bonus” — Charles Leclerc x witch!girlfriend!reader

Fluff

Word count—963

A/n— I left this pretty inconclusive so so pretty much anyone can read and feel included

I forgot I had this in my Google Docs I just found it. This was one of those fic I wrote write after the Carlos x daughter of Hecate! Reader fic you know the one where she accidentally turned him into a cat. Back in January

Summery — Charles will always be a supportive boyfriend even when his girlfriend inherits a bunch of magical things from her grandmother.

Charles gently approached his girlfriend, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Are you sure about this, my dear?" She was completely absorbed in her grandmother's ancient grimoires, passed down through generations. Charles had always been supportive of her growing interest in magic, so when a mysterious man arrived at their home with trunks full of arcane books and enchanted trinkets, he couldn't contain his excitement. It felt as if he had stepped into a world reminiscent of Harry Potter, albeit with its own unique twist, different from the movies and books he had cherished since childhood.

“Yes Charles I’m sure about this” you replied with a smile reading over the words of the grimoires.

Charles chuckled to himself, watching as you poured over the grimoires with an intense focus that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. He adored seeing you like this - fully engrossed, completely lost in your passion. He moved closer to you, draping his arms over your shoulders from behind before gently resting his chin on the top of your head.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you, mon amour?"

You could feel the warm embrace of his arms around you, and the gentle weight of his chin resting on your head made you smile in contentment. You leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"I am," you replied, resting your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. "It's amazing how much knowledge is hidden within these pages. I'm learning things I never could have imagined."

Charles chuckled, his breath tickling the back of your neck. "I can see that. You've been glued to those books for hours now." "It's addictive," you admit a hint of defensiveness in your voice. "The spells, the potions, the creatures. It's all so fascinating."

Charles chuckled again, the sound reverberating through his chest and sending a shiver down your spine. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment.

"I know it is, mon amour. I've never seen you so passionately focused on something before." "You don't mind me spending so much time on my magic, do you?"

You ask, a hint of worry creeping into your voice. Charles smiled against your hair, tightening his embrace around you.

"Of course not, darling. I think it's wonderful that you've found something that brings you so much joy. Plus, who knows? Maybe I'll learn a spell or two to spice things up in the bedroom." He joked, a cheeky grin on his face. You swatted at his chest, blushing at his suggestive remark. "Behave yourself," you scolded. "This magic is serious."

He chuckled again, his grip on you not loosening an inch. "I'm just teasing, mon amour. But it's true, I do find your passion for magic charming." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"And there's something strangely hot about having a powerful sorceress as a girlfriend." "Maybe I do," you admitted, grinning as his lips continued to trail soft kisses along your neck. You leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours.

"But seriously," he said, his voice more gentle now, "I'm happy you've found something that makes you so animated. You light up when you talk about magic. It's adorable."

You chuckled, turning in his embrace to face him. His arms remained draped around you, keeping you close.

"You're such a sap," you teased, grinning up at him. He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Only for you, mon amour," he replied smoothly, pulling you even closer so that you were nearly chest to chest.

"Besides," he continued, his gaze roaming over your face, "I don't mind having a real-life witch as a girlfriend. It gives our relationship a hint of mystique." You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a smile at his words. "And here I thought you chose me for my charming personality, not my magical powers."

He chuckled, his hands moving to rest on your hips, fingers gently tracing small circles on your side.

"Oh, I chose you for your charming personality," he confirmed. "The magic is just a bonus." You hummed, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. His heart was beating steadily under your palms, a comforting rhythm. "So you're not scared I might turn you into a frog or something?"

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "You wouldn't dare," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'd miss me too much, although there was that one time Carlos’s girlfriend sneezed and accidentally turned him into a cat" Your eyes widened at his words, and a burst of laughter escaped from your lips. "Oh my goodness, did she?"

Charles nodded, a smirk on his face. "Yes, it was a hilarious mess. Carlos was meowing and prowling around the house for hours before she managed to change him back. It was quite the sight." You covered your mouth as the laughter continued to tumble out of you, the mental image of Carlos transformed into a cat too funny to even fathom. After a few moments, you regained your composure, though a grin still tugged at the corners of your mouth.

"Well, don’t worry," you reassured Charles, patting his chest. "I promise I won’t turn you into a frog or cat… intentionally."

“I appreciate that,” Charles says kissing you. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, a subtle show of affection. You melted into the embrace, savoring the familiar feeling of his kiss.

He pulled back slightly, a fond smile on his face as he looked down at you. "But just to be clear," he joked, "if you ever accidentally turn me into a frog, I'll still love you."

Tagged— @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @anedpev @bblouifford @biancathecool @bbtoni @badassturtle13 @barcelonaloverf1life @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @entr4p3 @formulas-bitch @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @ironcowboycopnickel @jvpiterzs @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lollypop90907 @lightdragonrayne @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mrsgeorgerussell63 @mrs-liebgott @moss-on-tmblr @nurse-sainz @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @purplephantomwolf @starkwlkr @strugglingyetvibing @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @toasttt11 @the-ghost-lovwr @tallrock35 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

[whxtedreams]

Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking

Blood Runs Thicker than Water - Joel & F!Reader (Platonic DBF!)

Summary: Joel suffers in the new world without his girls.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Grief, mentions of loss, Joel is a mess, suicidal thoughts (joel), depressed!joel, the birth of Raider!Joel, Joel not coping with grief.

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on AO3

Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking

Joel's heart sinks as he drops to his knees before her teddy bear, its once fluffy fur now drenched and stained with blood. Desperation grips him, and he finds himself pleading to whatever powers that be, silently praying that the crimson splatter doesn't belong to the child he failed to save, failed to come back to.

He picks up the bear, his breath growing labored as he notes its limp form, a chilling resemblance to the way Sarah's lifeless body hung in his arms just moments ago. The sight brings an overwhelming sense of grief and helplessness as Sarah’s blood still clings to him.

The weight of the situation becomes unbearable, and Joel finds himself unable to contain the sickening feeling within him. His stomach turns, and his mind is gripped by a flurry of horrifying scenarios of what could have happened to her, each one more devastating than the last. In his torment, Joel bends over, unable to suppress the urge to vomit. The acidic bile burns his throat as he retches onto the floor, his eyes watering from the intensity of the experience. Tommy's hand comes to rest on his back, a silent presence providing both support and comfort during this moment of despair.

With a gentle touch, Tommy takes the bloodied bear from Joel's trembling hands, his grip tender yet firm. In that moment of anguish, tears stream down Joel's face, the weight of his loss and grief overwhelming him in waves.

Joel's voice breaks as he speaks through tears and gasps, his words escaping amidst a torrent of emotion. "I told her I'd come back," he chokes out, the weight of his promise crashing down upon him like a wave.

Joel's voice trembles as he looks up at Tommy, his desperation evident in the rawness of his tone. Between gasped breaths, his question echoes with a poignant mix of anguish and longing, "Why didn’t she wait for me?"

Tommy, sensing the depth of his brother's pain, instinctively crouches beside him. His grip firm and supportive upon Joel's shoulder, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort as he watches his brother break in front of him for one of the first times in his life.

Joel doesn’t talk for a few days.

Doesn’t sleep.

Doesn’t eat.

His mind is consumed by the weight of grief and guilt. The memory of his daughter's death hangs heavily over him, along with the loss of his best friend’s little girl who he loved as if she was his own.

Did she even know that? Did she know how he fought to not lose her too? His knuckles bloody before he reached the empty diner he left her in. How broken his skin was after he left. How Tommy, bruised and bloody had to drag him out screaming because he thought you would come back.

Did she know how he still sees you in his dreams? That when he finally collapses into sleep, that all he can hear is you screaming his name and Sarah’s blood drowning him?

Did she know that he still sees her in the trees, the sunsets, the streams, everywhere. He sees her everywhere, always out of reach. Disappearing before he reaches out for her.

Did she know he tried to leave this world, unable to cope with the loss and guilt? Did she know that he saw her eyes in her teddy bear, staring back at him as he was ready to end it all? Did she know that he’s still fighting for the possibility he finds her again?

Did she know that the loss of her is tearing him apart from the inside as he tears people apart from the outside?

Or does she think that he just left her without a second thought? If she’s thinking that, at least she’s alive.

As they leave the city behind and enter the desolate landscapes, Tommy makes a valiant effort to break the silence. His words float through the air, but find no echo in Joel's heavy silence. Joel's mind is immersed in a world of torment, his thoughts consumed by the weight of grief and guilt. His deafened ears don't register Tommy's attempt at conversation, leaving the air filled only with the echoes of nature and the unspoken pain within Joel's soul.

His soul torn and draining through his skin at the loss of them.

As weeks go by, Tommy and Joel find themselves encountered by a group of people who call themselves raiders. Tommy rejects the idea of joining this group, not finding alignment with how they navigate the new world. Joel echoes his brother's sentiment, choosing to part ways with the group. However, as time unfolds, Joel starts to see the harsh realities of their solitary survival. The world has become a dangerous place, and their own chances of making it unscathed are slim.

He can’t lose Tommy too.

He wont lose Tommy too.

As their resources dwindle, Joel and Tommy find themselves approaching the point of no return, the strain of survival weighing heavily on them. In a moment of desperation, they stumble in the path of the raider's group once more, who quickly acknowledge their impressive fighting skills after they caught the brothers by surprise. Recognizing their potential value, the raiders reluctantly agree to take them in, albeit with some misgivings. In the harsh world they now inhabit, survival often hinges on alliances built on mutual needs, even if trust doesn’t come easily.

Joel keeps a vigilant watch over Tommy, never taking his eyes off his brother. Suspicion and distrust fill every glance, and he scans their surroundings with a watchful gaze, wary of the potential threat lingering within the raider's camp. His grip on Tommy tightens, a protective gesture fueled by a desire to shield his brother from any harm. Any hint of hostility or ill intent from the other raiders are met with a sharp and deadly glare, signaling Joel's readiness to defend his brother at any cost.

By the second week, no one dares to look at the brothers. Word spreads through the camp about the violent and brutal attacks initiated by Joel, leaving broken bones and mangled bodies in his wake. Eventually, the other raiders begin to steer clear of the two men, their fear-driven avoidance a testament to the raw power and anger that simmers within Joel. The atmosphere grows tense, a dark cloud of anticipation hanging over the camp, each individual haunted by the lingering shadow of Joel's relentless wrath.

The world ended for Joel the night he lost his girls and now he’s a dead man walking among the living.

Click here for Chapter 6

Notes

Last part of part 1! This was a little hard to write just because it’s depressing lol. But it was just a stream of thought tbh, kinda just started and didn’t stop. So I hope its represented well. I hope you enjoyed the first part of the series!

Next chapter Sneak Peak!

With gentle and soothing motions, Joel's hand begins to stroke the length of your back, offering a comforting presence. Your gaze remains fixed on the still form of the dead man, his lifeless eyes staring back at you as blood drips from the hole in his neck. Joel's voice breaks the tense silence, whispering reassurances once more. "Everything's alright." The repetition of his words serves as a soothing mantra, a lifeline that grounds you in the face of shock and terror.

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @sunandmuun , @rain-soaked-sun , @frootloops1213 , @samarav , @geralallfandoms , @joelmillersblog , @severussimp

[froyaoya]

FRIDAY WAS TOO FAR. — kageyama oneshot. gn.reader

mlist ┊ navigation

CW / SYNOPSIS : he’s sick. you take care of him and pray time works in your favor. (no explicit details ab. the sickness, 1 mention of chemo and treatment, implications)

five more days! you say enthusiastically as your forearms flex, making use of your body weight to push the wheelchair forward. they’d never compare to his, but he had years of training ahead of you. cheater. he tilts his head back at you and smiles knowingly—weaker than it used to be, but you’re grateful he’s still offering you one to begin with.

you swivel around together till you reach the tall fig tree that rules the garden; surrounding trees bow under—failing to match its height.

“it looks like you” your own voice echoes from a distant memory.

the mental image of his scowl makes you stifle a laugh. “and what exactly do you mean by that?” he’d flick you on the forehead.

“it’s the king of the land!!! you’re the king of the court!!” you’d beam at him. his expression would soften, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. but his confusion wouldn’t dissipate—he wishes he could see the world you do. as brightly as you do.

four more days, the doctor tells you, pity washing over his features. “we won’t have the technology for his chemo until then.” and you nod, ignoring the scratchy feeling in the back of your throat telling you it’ll be too late by then. because you believe in him. you believe in trying. you hope he believes too.

three more days and they’re here, tobio” you whisper, shooting a grin at him—who’s diligently squeezing a rubber ball to ‘maintain grip strength for the upcoming season’ . he glances at you, apologetic.

“i was listening,” he states warily like a son afraid to anger his mother. but you don’t mind, he already knows his highschool teammates are coming to visit. it’s been marked by an x on the pink calendar that waves at every guest who stops too look around his four by four hospital room. despite the sterile environment, it smells like yogurt. for muscle growth, he’d defend. his dedication to his sport wraps your heart in hope.

two more days till he gets better? hinata asks you expectantly. he’s never changed—your lover’s best friend. he zips around, spreading the good news to kageyama’s beloved high school team after you confirm. your chest swells with pride at the people showing up for him. secretly, you think: I’m glad it’s not just me.

you look to him, and his expression mirrors yours.

one more day marks a year since you said your goodbyes. you stand between his teammates from different walks of his life—some shoulders slumped over, some with faces buried into them. a few walk over to you to say their condolences, words intended for comfort. they don’t know that you’ve already had that talk.

you remember his weary expression, hand clutching yours like he’s not ready to let go.

“I’m sorry.” he breathed out. “friday is too far.”

“don’t apologize,” you choked through tears, an attempt to comfort both of you. it fails. “you can rest now.” his hand went limp in yours.

the group stands around the tall fig tree, a gold plated plaque nailed deep into the wood: dedicated to the king.

author’s note: hellooo first oneshot on this account. not super angsty but it’s got a lil kick to it .. :”) sorry ab the abrupt ending HH this was my break from writing mousetrap!!! getting back to it..🚶🏻‍♀️

[kana2025]

Himbo Idol Jaehyun x Reader

Word Count: 50+

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Comfort/Hurt, Slice of Life

Synopsis: In a luxurious penthouse suite, you and your boyfriend Jaehyun, a charming and slightly clueless idol, share an intimate evening. Jaehyun surprises you with a homemade tiramisu, and his endearing clumsiness makes you smile. As you savor the dessert, the air between you becomes charged with unspoken desire. A tender kiss leads to a heartfelt exchange of "I love you"s, and Jaehyun's vulnerable request for you to stay with him. Wrapped in his embrace, the city's distant hum fades away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of love and intimacy.

The lights of the city cast a soft glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite, creating an intimate ambiance that contrasted with the bustling streets below. You sat on the plush sofa, a glass of wine in your hand, feeling the slight buzz of alcohol loosen your senses. The soft hum of the city life seemed a world away from the tranquil luxury of the room.

Jaehyun, your boyfriend and the nation's beloved idol, was busy preparing something in the kitchen. The sight of him, so focused and adorably clumsy, brought a smile to your lips. His broad shoulders and toned physique were accentuated by the fitted white shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every so often, he would glance over at you with a boyish grin, his dimpled smile making your heart skip a beat.

"Almost done!" he called out, his deep voice resonating through the room. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, even when he was trying to navigate through a recipe.

"You sure you don't need any help?" you teased, watching as he fumbled with a jar.

"Nope! I've got it all under control," he replied, though his actions suggested otherwise. You chuckled, shaking your head at his endearing confidence.

Finally, Jaehyun emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with what looked like a meticulously prepared dessert. He set it down on the coffee table with a flourish, his eyes sparkling with pride. "Ta-da! I made tiramisu."

You raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Tiramisu, huh? That's ambitious."

"Only the best for you," he said, his gaze softening as he looked at you. He sat down next to you, his presence warm and comforting. The scent of coffee and cocoa from the dessert mingled with his cologne, creating an intoxicating mix.

Jaehyun handed you a fork, his fingers brushing against yours in a gentle, deliberate caress. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the contact. Taking a bite, you savored the rich, creamy texture of the tiramisu, the flavors melting together perfectly.

"This is really good," you said, surprised. "You did an amazing job."

He beamed, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I'm glad you like it."

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you both enjoyed the dessert. The room felt warmer, more intimate, the air charged with a sensual undercurrent that neither of you could ignore. Jaehyun's knee brushed against yours, a seemingly accidental touch that lingered longer than necessary.

You set your glass down, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. His eyes, dark and intense, held a promise that made your pulse quicken. You leaned closer, drawn to him like a magnet, your breath hitching as he mirrored your movement.

"Jaehyun," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat.

He closed the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. His hand cupped your face, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss. The world outside the window faded away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared desire.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads resting against each other, Jaehyun's breath was ragged. "I love you," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety rumble.

"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. The honesty in his eyes made your heart swell with emotion.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let go. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating a cocoon of safety and affection. You knew that moments like these were precious, stolen from the hectic whirlwind of his idol life.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. There was a vulnerability in his voice that you rarely heard, a need that matched your own.

"Always," you promised, sealing your words with another kiss. The night stretched ahead of you, filled with the promise of shared intimacy and whispered confessions.

In that moment, surrounded by the gentle glow of the city lights and the warmth of Jaehyun's embrace, you felt truly at home.

[james-is-here]

OH MY GOD WAIT HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE AND I CAME UP WITH THIS!!!

Includes Dad Channie because I'm a sucker for Dad SKZ.

Chan was waiting in the spot he was told to stand for the photographers and he spots a familiar white camera with sticky gems all over it in the mix of photographers, the photographer behind the bedazzled camera has a kid on his shoulders, small hands holding himself up on the persons head, a mask and small green bucket hat covering his face and the other wore a mask with a black baseball cap.

He couldn't stop the smile that took over his face when the kid waves and he can hear a faint "Wolfie!" come from him as he pointed to the idols bag. The male under the boy lowers his camera after capturing the idols smile and pats the kids leg while his eyes looked up in the general direction of the kid. He looked back down and Chan could see a smile take over his face under his mask.

When Chan was brought out of his small world, his chest tightened as he realized he had to wait even longer. He looked from the person trying to guide him to the car to the photographer, who nods, smile still on his face as he says something and both him and the boy wave at Chan. He gives back another wave that looks like he's waving goodbye to the rest of the people taking photos but lingers on the two in the middle just a little longer than the rest.

You were out before the others, walking back to your own vehicle. "Where he go?" "He had to go to his car, buddy. We'll get to see him when we go home." The boy whines and you feel more of his weight on your head. "Oh, Buddy..." You stop and kneel down so he can slide off your shoulders before you turn around and pick him up and hold him tightly.

"Saw Dada, wan' Dada." "I know, Jinho, I know. We'll see Dada soon, okay? Why don't we surprise him and your uncles with food, huh? and I'll get you ice cream?" He nods into your shoulder. "Okay." You answer back.

You reach your car and buckle him into his car seat. "Can I have Dada photos?" You smile, reaching into your camera bag to pull out a small photo holder that has printed out pictures you've taken of Chan in the past.

"Here you go." "Tank ku, Appa." "You're welcome, Buddy." You stand up and move to the other side of the car, putting your bags in the other seat then moving to the drivers seat. "Ready?" "Yeah." You smile and start the car.

You got the food and ice cream but Jinho fell asleep, luckily you weren't too far from home. When you got home you managed to balance a toddler on your hip, your camera bags on your shoulder, and the food and cup of semi-melted ice cream in your hand.

You had to use your foot to knock on the door when you reached the apartment and Jisung barely got a word out when you reach the cup out towards him. "Freezer, quick." "I- Okay."

You walk in and were hoping to see him but you only saw the usuals of the first apartment plus a stray chicken. "Here, Lix, take your cuddle buddy." The younger smiled happily and took the toddler into his arms, moving to lay on the couch and throw his legs over Hyunjin's.

"Where is he? Did I manage to beat him here?" "No, he's in his room." Changbin said from his place on Hyunjin's lap next to Felix's legs.

You make your way over to the room and crack the door open slowly. A smile takes over your face when you see he's half unpacked, laying on his bed and in his hands hovering above him is Jinho's shirt. You close the door and make your way back out to grab your boy.

"He took one of Jinho's shirts with him, that's adorable." You chuckles lightly as you gently pick up the boy from Felix's hold. "Are you serious?" "Yeah. Was looking for the shirt for weeks, even before Chan left, almost tore up my apartment looking for it cause it was his favorite. I wonder how long he's actually had it." You cradle the boy against your chest and he buries his face into your neck. "Oh, go ahead and eat, the other boys can too." "Thanks for the food, Mn." Jisung says as he moves to unpack it. "Of course."

You walk back to Chan's room and slowly open the door to find Chan now holding the shirt to his chest and an arm thrown over his eyes. You look down at the boy in your arms and gently pat his back. "Jinho...Buddy..." "Hm?" "Wanna go to Dada?" You whisper and he's leaning up from your shoulder and rubbing his eyes. "Dada?" "Yeah, buddy, look." He turns to see Chan and squirms in your arms so you put him down.

He takes a moment to rub his eyes and stretch before sleepily walking further into the room. Chan doesn't notice until Jinho is climbing onto the bed and he moves his arms, gasping softly. "Jinho!" "Hi Dada." Chan sits up, lifting the boy up to place him on his lap and his hugged him tightly, rocking softly. "Were you good for Appa?" He nods then leans forward and crashes into Chan's chest. "You sleepy?" He nods again and Chan hugs him tighter, laying back down with the boy on his chest.

After watching the interaction, you walk in and Chan's smile got impossibly bigger. "Mnie!" He called you, almost like cooing at you as he reached out to you. He turns to his side with Jinho as you move his bag so there's more room as you lay down in front of him. "Hi Channie." You kiss his forehead then kiss the top of Jinho's head and smile at Chan.

"How was it?" "Really fun but I missed you and the kids." "What about Jinho?" "He's apart of 'the kids' is he not?" You giggle softly and lean forward to place your forehead on his, sliding a hand under his tank top and he sighs softly.

The only noise in the room was the air con, Jinho's soft little snores, and the muffled noises from the living room. "I brought food." You whisper. "Later." "Okay."

You open your eyes to find he's already staring at you. "Whatcha thinking about?" Your hand rests on his waist, your thumb rubbing back and forth on his smooth skin. "This. I love when you come with us when we travel but when you don't I'm glad I get to come home to you and Jinho." Your right hand moves from under your head to Chan's cheek and you thumb his cheek under his eye.

"I really don't deserve you." "What you mean?" "I was just a single dad photographer and you're an idol, producer, model and more. I'm nothing special and yet you still chose me...Not too late to drop me." Chan had an unreadable expression on his face as he pulled away from you, taking Jinho with him as he steps out of his room. You hear him ask one of the boys to take the toddler and Felix of course takes him.

Chan comes back in, closing his door and moving back to the bed but instead of sitting next to you he kneels on the bed then throws a leg over your own to sit on your lap. "Wha-" You're confusion was interrupted when he suddenly held your face and attacked your face with kisses until you're confused stuttering turns into a wide smile and giggles.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back and smiled at your red face and ears. "C-Care to e-explain?" You get out through giggles as you lean into his touch. "I am never going to drop you. You are the most amazing person I've ever met. I never told you this but I walked into my photoshoot with you and it felt as if I've known you the whole time. You were so sweet and kind and you made jokes to get me to smile but honestly all you could've done was compliment me with one word and I'd smile. I felt so comfortable around you."

"Channie..."

"Then your phone rang and I let you answer it and it was your nanny with your little boy. You were so happy when talking to him and honestly your smile was so adorable. I didn't care that you were a single dad, I still liked you and I loved you around the third photoshoot. Don't get me started on Jinho, he's the cutest little guy and I feel incredibly happy every time he calls me 'Dada'. The first time he did, I cried." "Y-You did?" "I did. It felt like my heart was ripped out, I was a mess cause it was the cutest thing ever."

You pull him closer and tighten your arms around him, burying your face into his neck. "Chris...I love you so much." "I love you, too, Mnie." His arms wrap around your neck just as tight as you, leaning down to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

"Channie?" "Yeah?" Neither of you pull away, instead choosing to hug each other tighter. "I really, really, really want..." You take a deep breath. "I really want to marry you..." You feel his breath hitch and his hands slide across your back to rest on your shoulders as he pulls back to look at you. "What?" "I want you to be my husband...and I want to be yours...nothing has to happen now if you're not ready I just wanted to let you know that I really want you to be my husband."

"Y-You're kidding." He reaches behind him to where you put his bag at the end of the bed and pulled out a box. Sitting back up, he opens the box to reveal a silver band that had an asymmetrical line that looked like black crystal. "I am absolutely ready, please."

A wide smile takes over your face, your hands reaching up to hold his face and you lean forward to firmly attach your lips to his. He giggles and pushes into you slightly, cradling your jaw with the box still in his hand.

He giggles with a yelp when your hands moved and your arms wrapped around his waist and you leaned back, picking him up only slightly off your lap before your left hand moved to his thigh and you turn to lay him down, pulling back and hovering over him. "What if it was just us and the boys for now? Nothing too big. Maybe we could have a real one on an anniversary or something." "That's perfect."

He takes the ring out of the box, tossing that to the side, then slides it onto your finger. He smiles when he sees it fits and intertwines his fingers with yours and moves it back next to his head, his other hand pulling you down by your neck into a searing kiss before his hand moves to hold your jaw when you tilt your head slightly.

You pull away but only for a moment. "You free tomorrow?" "Only at lunch." "I'll pick you up and we'll go for food and ring shopping, yeah? Wanna get you one." "Okay, that sounds good." You reattach your lips to his and lick his bottom lip, his lips part and you barely lick into his mouth before you're jolting apart and looking up at the door.

"Ew, daddy's are kissing." Hyunjin was at the door with Jinho on his hip. "Ew!" The toddler giggled before it turned into a laugh when Hyunjin tickled him. "Hyunjin, what do you want?" You lean up and sit back on your heels as Chan drops one of his knees but his right hand is still connected to your left one, playing with the ring.

"Your food is getting cold and Jinho needs a diaper change." Hyunjin makes a disgusted face and sets the boy down who runs over and climbs onto the bed. "Appa tell you some'fing?" "What's up buddy?" You brush his hair out of his face. "Puppy gave soda." Suddenly Hyunjin bursts into laughter, clapping his hands as he practically falls into the hallway.

"Seungmin, he said it!! He ratted you out!!" "Little monster!!" Seungmin then comes in and tickles the boy until he's all giggles and shrieks. "Okay, Okay, can I change him before any sort of mess happens?" You smile widely as you pick the boy up and move to the floor, putting down his changing mat.

After, while sitting in the living room with the boys, Jinho on your lip drinking his juice under the blanket you share with Chan, you smile softly as you kiss the top of the boys head and look over to Chan who leans on your shoulder, his right hand still fidgeting with the ring on your finger with a barely noticeable smile.

"So..." Felix spoke up and you all look at him while he looks at you and Chan. "...When did Chan propose?" The room was filled with questions and confusion and congratulations.

And despite the chaos you couldn't be happier.

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (16)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Backpack newbie, All the green flags, It is time for...the talk

A/N:

I originally came on here about 45 minutes ago to post this and got completely side tracked and distracted by a draft that was just staring at me for days. (I normally don't see it on the app and I might have been avoiding it because I couldn't decide on what to choose.) Anyways, without further ado, the next installment!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout��for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

Jason waited patiently for her to climb on. He watched her shuffle bit by bit closer to him and his bike. He could not see her face because of the helmet, but he did not have to. He knew the type of face she must be making, and he had to keep his composure to not laugh at how cute this all was. Y/N was not the first innocent young woman he has dealt with, nor the first one to sass him back. She was a weird combination of the two that was uniquely her, and that is what drew him to her. Normally, someone like her would have never spoken to someone like him. Their worlds would have never collided. In reality, anyway. The fact that she’s IAmBatman still throws me for a loop. I would’ve bet big money it was one of the other Robins trolling me. He was about to ask if she needed help when he felt his bike shift from the added weight and her arms squeeze him tight, in what probably was her version of a death grip but ended up as more of a bear hug for him. Yeah, I’ve been squeezed harder by worse. I don’t mind this. He lightly patted her arms.

“I promise, I won’t do anything to scare you. Just follow my body and don’t be too stiff, ok?” He looked over his shoulder to see her try to look up at him, but his helmet was not doing her any favors. He snorted out a chocked laugh and quickly looked forward once more. “Sorry, sorry,” he reached back and hooked his hand under her thigh by her knee, tugging her leg up to rest her foot on a proper place. The motion had her scooting closer, and she jumped again when he pulled her other leg. “Keep your feet here and just enjoy the ride. Did you want me to put on some music? I have Bluetooth in my helmet. It won’t be easy to talk, since you won’t be able to hear well.”

“Music is fine, but how will you hear?” She spoke a little louder to not come out muffled.

“I’ll be fine, I rather you be comfortable.” Yup, she’s definitely having trouble hearing me. “Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.” 

“Really?” He looked over his shoulder again to see if she was lying, but was met with his helmet. Right, I forgot about that. He rolled his eyes at his little lapse in memory. Didn’t expect that list from her. She really knows how to surprise me every time. He searched around a bit and managed to build a small playlist of songs for her to listen to. “Let me know if this is too loud.” He played a song and waited until they found a good setting for her. “Hold tight when the music starts and just move with me, ok?” He secured his phone and pulled out his red half mask that covered his mouth.

I don’t think any of the guys I’ve dated have ever been this considerate. He’s not a textbook gentleman, but he’s pretty close. Y/N was genuinely surprised with how much care he was taking with her. She was nervous that he may find her burdensome and tried not to cause much trouble. The tug on her legs caught her off guard, literally pulling her from her thoughts and scooting her closer to him. His voice was a bit muffled, but she was not sure which made it worse: the beating of her heart that was now magically in her ears or the helmet. Either way, she managed to figure out what he was saying and answer.

“Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.” Is that weird to say? Maybe I should've said something more pop or indie? But I like them and they’re my go-to music.

“Really?” she felt him twist, so she looked up, or at least tried to but could only see part of his face.

How do people ride with big, clunky things like these? Then again, this is his size, so it’s probably not so big or clunky to him. She reasoned. 

Soon enough, everything seemed settled and as soon as the music started, she tightly held onto him. As promised, he kept to an easy speed which allowed her to take in her surroundings. It was not as scary as she thought it would be. The cars that zipped by were not the best, but Jason clearly knew what he was doing and avoided all trouble. At a red light there was a car revving its engine and some passengers were heckling them, but he seemed to just ignore it.

I wonder, would he have responded to them if I wasn’t here? They’re pretty annoying. This is the third light they’ve stopped at with us and are still trying to get a rise out of him. She frowned, unable to hear them thanks to the music. A bunch of rowdy losers. She tightened her grip on Jason. The pat to her arms surprised her, but it was reassuring. Cici’s right, I need to talk to him about the bill. He’s not going to throw a fit and storm off. 

Y/N looked up as they pulled into a parking lot. It was a diner she had seen on a few of the bus rides when the usual bus was not running. She had always thought about stopping by, but it was always a fleeting thought until she saw it again.

“We’re here,” she heard him as the music stopped. “You climb off first, I’ll keep the bike balanced.” She quickly followed his instructions and managed to get off without fumbling, much to her own surprise. Feeling proud, she stood a little taller and pulled off the helmet

“Not so bad, right?” He grinned, his mask hidden in his jacket once more.

“I’ll admit, not as scary as everyone makes it out to be. You were a textbook motorcyclist. I thank you for not trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Bikes get a bad rep, couldn’t let that happen again. Want your bag? It’ll be safe here if not.” Y/N hesitated for a moment. If he does end up freaking out on me, I’ll lose my things. It’s unlikely he would, but I can’t risk it. Who knows what’ll happen. 4k isn’t just some simple bake sale change. “Yeah, I probably should. My phone is there. I should have it on me in case Cici tries to reach me.”

“Say no more,” he carefully handed it to her and took his helmet in return. “C’mon, let’s get some grub. I'm starving!” He led the way inside.

“Well look who it is, back again? Oh, you’re not alone this time?” Y/N looked up at the sound of the gruff voice to a big older guy standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey Charlie, what can I say, I like your food. Yeah, I brought a friend, we’ll seat ourselves.” Jason hooked his arm around her shoulders and led her to a booth where there were not as many people. A young woman came around with the sticky laminated menus, pouting at the sight of Y/N. It was evident that the waitress was interested in the handsome regular and Y/N was not off to a good start.

Better not do anything to get her spitting in my food. She nervously smiled, picking up the menu.

Jason watched Y/N as she looked over the choices, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalled how proud she looked when she dismounted his bike with ease. He was nervous that she may not have liked the ride because of the overcompensating teens that were trying to get him to race, but she had yet to say anything so he let it be 

Those dumbasses were lucky they were allowed to keep up with me. I'd been impossible to catch if I was alone. I’m just glad she wasn't annoyed by them. The ride was peaceful aside from that. She was not stiff and followed his lead well, which was great for him. Feeling her pressed against his back made him realize just how much smaller she was compared to him. She was not frail or sickly, but she was comparably weaker than him or many of the other females he has worked with. Then again, none of them are run-of-the-mill either. He realized the unfair comparison. It was different though, a good difference. He could not really put his finger on why it mattered, but it had. Instead of stressing on it, he let the thought come and go.

When they reached the diner, he asked her about her belongings and she hesitated. She was clearly weighing the risks and benefits. It was not shrewd, it was logical. Even though he was a secret vigilante, she should be cautious. If he was anyone else, she could have been a lot of trouble. Hearing her answer was a relief. He had no intention of just up and leaving her, but anything could happen. Duty could call, and he would need to go, and she would be stuck here. The idea of abandoning her did not sit well with him, and he could not figure out why.

Regardless, everything is going pretty smoothly for now, maybe we can have a decent conversation. I need to bring up the money, but she’s yet to even ask for my name. What does a guy gotta do to be inquired about around here!?  He propped an elbow on the table and glared at her reflection in the window, chin resting in his hand.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” His ears perked up at the words, and he quickly turned to face her. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?”

Did I hear right? Did she just and then just? Have I died? Like actually died-died?  “Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” he showed her his phone and she whacked him with the menu. He laughed as he dodged the hit.

“You refused to give me your name. What was I supposed to call you? The Expensive Inquisition? Or D.I.D. #1?” He smirked as she scowled at him. “You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”

“I should change your name to Sir Questions-a-lot.” He heard her grumble as she took out her phone and changed his name while he changed hers in his phone. “Something tells you wanted to say more than just your name, what’s up?”

Y/N stared at the words on the menu but paid them no attention. She needed to get her thoughts in order and strike up the conversation without insulting or angering him. It’s not every day some chick comes demanding a large sum of money like that. She glanced at him over the top of the menu. Well for normal people anyway. Trust fund kids with a playboy father might have people knocking on their door all the time. I need to make sure he knows I'm not one of those people.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” She finally built up the courage to speak up. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?” She anxiously waited for his response as he simply stared at her with wide eyes. Oh no, did I do that wrong? How else was I supposed to do it? I can’t just say ‘hi’ like we weren’t just with each other!

“Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” she gasped when he showed her the screen and she swung the first thing in her hands, which was the floppy menu. Sadly he was able to avoid the feeble strike.

Y/N stiffened at his reminder of why she even brought up their names. He was right. She made the decision to talk to him about the hotel bill. Jason had to have known he broke the machine, but was unaware of the bill that followed. How else would he be so carefree?

“Yes, there is something else.” She set her weapon down and took a deep breath. Just rip it off like a bandaid. “The hotel we stayed at,” she paused for a moment, shifting her gaze from his face to the table. “They contacted me that weekend and told me there was damage to the room. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but the price to pay is really steep. I won’t demand you to pay all of it since I’ve already started paying it off, but I’d appreciate it if you’d help me with the rest. Which is why I’ve been working like crazy to cover the costs, but it’s slow progress and the hotel is starting to get annoyed with how slow the progress is. Not only that, but I’m afraid they’ll throw me into collections, which will only cause more problems. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, nor did I want to blame you, but Cici and I are already living tight as is.” She tried to speak as calmly as possible, but her tempo sped up a bit towards the end as her nerves got the best of her. There, I said it! Now all she had to do was wait for him to respond.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali  @antiquecultistst

[httpsbearily]

hi! may i request a valen x princess!reader fic in which he's tasked with ensuring her safe return back to the palace after she made some negotiations with a neighboring kingdom ?? possibly with valen thinking she's like most prissy stuck-up noblewomen...

perhaps a mix of angst and fluff ?? like, maybe her carriage is attacked via her return back to the palace and she's shaken up... just a thought! :)

☆*: Canyon Moon

[Tags]: valen x reader | fem!reader | fluff

[Author’s Note]: valen, my beloved…nobody understands valen the way I do, I think that I could be a perfect wife for him pls valen just once chance I’ll give you a family. I love valen!!!!

The weight of the world seemed to rest on your shoulder, suffocating you under its pressure. For days now, you’d spent the night as a guest in a foreign kingdom, brandishing all your essence as a royal to allure a settlement of negotiations between it and your own. You’d done your best to incline the young king into an agreement for the establishment of friendly commerce between the two nations where your people would gain the benefit of local resources unique to the foreign kingdom, while the king would gain an ally. The Knights of Heroic Order were well known throughout all of Esperia, renowned for their might and durability in battle. It was no surprise to hear the requests of younger or smaller nations to implore the assistance of your proud knights. Sent on behalf of your father, the king of Holistone, you’d spent a week traveling to the foreign land in the middle of mountane canyons, accompanied by a barrage of knights that guarded your carriage through the 24 hours of the day. Admittedly, on the way there, you’d been a mess of nerves, stressed beyond your limit as you thought of all the possibilities that could occur. This was your official act of representation of Holistone, and there were so many components that relied on this meeting. To you, it felt reasonable that you behaved as tersely as you had, unable to move from the edge of your seat as infinite consequences settled on your mind.

You hadn’t even realized how fussy and fastidious you’d been with your guards, owning the way the lead guard responded to you as the truth of his character. Valen, the knight charged with personally safeguarding you, was an irresistible individual with a charm that drew attention from all. On your departure from the city, he’d been chivalrous and suave, holding your forearm as he helped you into your carriage and fixing the hem of your dress so that it wouldn’t be caught by the door. He gave you a confident grin with a promise of taking good care of you. “You won’t have to worry about anything with me around. Just leave it all in my hands, princess.”

At the time, you’d been sporting a brave face, giving him a curt nod before turning your head to look out the opposite window to reassure yourself that this was something you could handle. You feared that looking back in his direction would give you sight of your expectant father, who stood at the head of the castle steps to see you off, and you would succumb to your worries. So you distracted yourself. Your averted eyes hadn’t witnessed the expression on Valen’s face when he realized the type of noble he’d be spending the next three weeks with.

On the way, the carriage would stop occasionally to allow you to rest and refresh yourself, giving you the chance to stretch your legs and spine. Every time, however, Valen followed behind no more than a few steps in the distance. If you decided to wander off while the others set up a temporary campsite, then Valen was there with arms crossed over his chest and artificial pleasantry. “Dinner is ready, princess; it’s not much to compare to your castle meals, but something is better than nothing,” he’d told you when a messenger relayed the message to him while the two of you strolled across a field of wildflowers.

“Thank you, but I will have to decline. I don’t believe I could stomach such foods like this,” you responded, meaning that your stomach had been knotted with anxiety, dissuading you from wanting to eat. But to Valen’s ears, he took your words to be belittling, thinking you believed yourself too good to eat the food of the common people. Although he nodded reassuringly, he felt a flash of annoyance from your pompous personality. To be fair, however, he’d already expected this from you. In his experience, most nobles were all the same, treating all others who were unequal to their status with disdain or disregard—it wasn’t far from your state as a royal. If it weren’t for the good name of the knights and General Hogan’s direct commands, he’d most likely be long gone by now, partaking in a clever way to escape his responsibilities.

By the time the traveling group had been about half a day from reaching their destination, you had secluded yourself inside the carriage to rehearse your dealings without a word to the others. This had led them all to think you were simply brooding at the prospect of the heavy work that awaited you, to which Valen indulged as he sat back against a tree nearby with the others gathered around the campfire. If you wouldn’t come out, then he wouldn’t chase you, and that was fine with him. He was better off assisting the other gourds than giving you unappreciated company.

“Will the princess be dining with us?” One of the lower-ranking foot guards questioned the knight.

“Probably not. She’s too busy drowning in her woes involving facing life outside the castle to even consider eating. But I’ll make sure to save some for her in case she gets hungry later on. It might be better if she eats inside the carriage anyway,” Valen responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

It wasn’t until the very moment that you’d finally arrived at the gates of the foreign kingdom that you pulled back the small curtain of the carriage and peeked your head out, whispering to get the knight’s attention, “Sir Valen… Could you come inside for a moment?”

Surprised by the timid tone of your voice, the knight immediately followed your request, hopping onto the moving cart and pulling open the door before settling inside with a whoosh of wind. “What is it, princess? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “I wanted to practice my delivery. I’ve been drafting it this entire time, so I feel like it’s the best I could come up with at this point, but from the perspective of a citizen, I’d like to hear your opinion. This negotiation between nations not only affects Holistone’s commerce but the people as well, so it must be as perfect as it can get with as minimal consequences as possible. Are you ready?”

Your words completely took the knight aback. You’d been practicing this whole time? More than that, you appeared to actually care about the others outside the royal family, which was a trait that few nobles shared. This was certainly not the plot twist he’d expected, but still, he kept himself wary. This one trait wouldn’t make up for all the others you carried; he knew not to expect more from you. So, with a nod of his head and an adjustment to the way he was sitting, he showed attentiveness as he listened to your points. From the sound of your voice, he could hear the subtle nervousness, and with his keen eyesight, he noticed the way you fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. He was beginning to assume he’d misjudged you. That, or public speaking, just wasn’t your strong suit.

In any case, Valen took all your sentences in with a hand on his chin as he thought about the approaches you were taking. “Not bad for your first royal business plan. If I could offer some advice,

“Please, do.”

This spurred a heavy conversation between the two of you throughout the entire duration of the ride from the kingdom gate to the castle. If you had a moment to think about anything other than the dealings you would be making, you would have realized that that was the first proper talk you had with the knight who protected you. Sitting down with him before you, a voice in the back of your mind whispered in question if the knight had always been this handsome or if his patience with you distorted your opinion of him in the moment.

When the time came to disembark, you took a deep breath and said, “For our people, wish me luck." Then you were watching Valen step out first, checking the surroundings before stretching out his hand to you for support as you stepped off in your heavy clothing. From that moment forward, you’d worn your best face, interacting amiably and respectably with the royal family of the foreign castle in hopes that they’d take a liking to you and not hassle you during business negotiations.

In a week’s time, you spent every waking moment with the other nobles, getting to know them and their culture. Your interest in them allowed the king to understand that Holistone was a peaceful kingdom and wouldn’t use the establishment of the Knights in their lands against them. It also wouldn’t disadvantage them to have arms in trade. So by the final day of your stay, all contracts were made, signed, and sealed with a copy for each kingdom to have. Roused by a thrill that nearly burst through your seams, you excused yourself from the King’s side for a moment with the excuse of relieving yourself just so that you could rush to your bedroom and revel in the good news.

Your first act as a princess was alone, with the expectations of your father on your shoulders, and you’d done well enough to succeed! For years, you’d strived to make your family understand that you could do this, and finally, you had the opportunity to show them. It was enough to make you want to jump on the bed.

If Valen, who always worked within the shadows, noticed how excited you were, he hadn’t said anything. Simply chuckling at how you were almost skipping in your steps with eyes shining brightly. In all these days at the castle that he’d spent watching you, he noticed your complete behavior change; no longer were you sticking your nose up tersely at the sight of them or displaying a near-constant, almost present frown between your eyebrows. Instead, you smiled often, showing kindness even to the maidservants who assisted you throughout the day. At first, he’d considered this to be a superficial act to gain the favor of the king. However, on that day that one of the king’s child princes took you through the gardens and over to the servants’ area, he realized that was not the case.

If anything, the character you displayed on your way here seemed to be the outlier, but for the life of him, Valen couldn’t understand why. What was the reason for you to behave as detachedly as you did? Was it that you had to play a part in front of the eyes of the people of Holistone? Why did you so easily accept snacks from a tiny servant boy and eat heartily when, with your soldiers, you had turned your head away? Every new corner of you that he discovered only made him more confused. He would have to wait until they traveled back home to see the truth of your gentleness.

With negotiations coming to an end, it was time to bid farewell to your new acquaintances. With promises to visit, you said your goodbyes to the little princes before professionally doing the same for the king and queen. Setting off had you sighing inside your carriage, looking at all the parting gifts the king had given you. You hadn’t expected so many; even the outside of your carriage had been strapped with boxes of spices and trinkets—all of which were special only to the foreign kingdom. It made you feel guilty that you’d only prepared a small thank-you gift in advance.

A knock on your door sounded, pulling you out of your thoughts before the curtain was lifted. “Words from our scouts ahead say the path we took here has been blocked by hypofiend activity. So, we’ll have to take another route for your safety, princess. On the bright side, this new route is still convenient, passing even roads. However, on the not-so-bright side, it might take a little longer to rerun since it strays away from a straight line.”

"This is fine; we have more than enough supplies to keep us all resourced for a few extra days. So long as we are safe, then the extra distance is no matter," you responded with a nod. Against his beliefs, you agreed easily to the change of plans with not so much of a complaint. The knight had started to believe he really had misjudged you, and he almost felt bad. But when you asked him if that was all before dismissing him from you, he fell right back to square one: truly conflicted.

Not that it mattered to him anyway; after all, he was only the knight sworn to protect you, not your friend. If he went this whole trip never finding out who you truly were, then that was the effect of your own behavior. With a hand running through his hair, he stepped off the carriage step before reuniting with the other knights in front to discuss the adjustment in route.

Alone once more, you were left to face your internal dialogue. With the heavy concerns gone from your mind, no longer distracting from your own hands in front of you, you realized something. Valen was not at all how you'd pinned him to be at the beginning of your journey. While you hardly missed his sarcastic pleasantry or exasperated remarks, he never treated you wrongly—in fact, his quibbles had dissipated with the time he spent with you in the castle. Because of his earlier actions, you assumed him to be superficial in his character, only treating you well out of obligation. This led you to detach yourself from him because you simply couldn't afford distractions during such an important time. But the more you familiarized yourself with him, the more you realized that his behavior must have been his retaliation to you. You couldn't deny that you may have seemed particular during the beginning days and slowly regretted rejecting his companionship, but simultaneously, was the circumstance one you could be blamed for? Perhaps you would have to apologize to all the others later on. For now, tiredness seeped into your body, and your lack of sleep caught up to you.

What awoke you hours later was the abrupt quaking of the carriage. Immediately, the sounds of shouting filled your ears, fully rousing you as you jumped to look out the carriage window. Just outside, you saw the foot guards scrambling past you, forming a defensive arch around the front of the transport. Panic filling you, you moved to push open the door with all your might but found it locked. What in the world was happening? You couldn't see the front center from the angle you looked out, but when the reverberation of swords being drawn cut through the air, you understood an attack was taking place.

Unable to just sit back, you worked to remove the crinoline you wore, hoping that without it, you would be able to fit through the window. But your plans were cut short when Valen appeared in front of you, speaking at you from outside: "Princess, stay inside; it's too dangerous anywhere else."

"Sir Valen! What's happening?!"

"It looks like some thugs were drawn in by the fancy goods attached to the cart. It's nothing we can't handle, though," the man responded, turning forward to guard the door from all sides.

"Let them have it! I'd much rather lose material than lives." You replied, your fingers grasping the edge of the window as you spoke.

Valen shook his head, giving you a side smirk as he said, "Nonsense. General Hogan would revoke my sword if I couldn't even protect you from some small-time bad guys. Don't worry, princess. This isn't anything we're unprepared for. Just stay inside, and don't try to come out."

With that, he ran off to join the fight at the front, leaving you behind with an exasperated expression. Sit here and do nothing?! How could you live peacefully if you returned home with fewer souls than you'd departed with? No, you wanted to help.

Struggling, you continued to undo the heavier, decorative parts of your dress before shimmying out the window. Before you could get halfway out, however, a sudden force knocked you back in, pushing you to the carriage floor with a grunt. The breath in your lungs was knocked out as you stared wide-eyed at the pitch-black creature that clawed its arm into the carriage. Its seemingly oozing skin flashed before your eyes as its sharp, taloned hands swiped at your face, leaving you frozen in fear. Nothing could have prepared you for the appearance of the massive hypofiend, roaring ferociously at its missed attempts to attack you. With all the others distracted ahead, there was no one left to see your apparent demise, yet all you could think about was what your father would say. Would he blame himself for sending his only daughter out on his behalf? Who would be the one to tell him the news of your stolen life? How could you ever thank him for giving you this chance to expand your life horizons, allowing you to meet people and learn customs you otherwise never would have experienced locked away in your room?

When the hypofiend captured the fabric of your dress, you reeled back, kicking at the thrashing arm as your functions instantly returned to you. As fast as you could, you maneuvered yourself to the farthest corner of the carriage and desperately searched for a defensive weapon. With nothing but the small box of rare spices given to you by the king, you lunged forward, dodging the thrashing claws to throw the spice contents into the hypofiend's single, oversized eye. Reactively, the monster tore the air with a bone-chilling scream, finally gaining the attention of the knights. They were too far away to interfere, though by the time they came close enough, the beast had viciously pushed the carriage away, making it fall onto its side and causing the attached components to scatter the surrounding land. Through the motion, you felt your head slam against one of the solid surfaces, making your vision swim, but with the adrenaline coursing through your body, you forced yourself to stay steady.

Shakily, you reached for the window that faced the sky and pulled yourself out, letting your body fall to the dirt ground with a thud. A ringing in your ears made the approaching footsteps almost inaudible to you, causing you to react slowly when your footguards surrounded you, fretting over your state in a chaotic state. You wanted to tell them all that you were fine so they wouldn't worry about you, but your throat felt constricted. The formation of words felt difficult for your tongue, and you could only mutter out incoherent sounds.

"Everyone clear out," you heard the lead knight say. "You, move ahead and inform the king of what happened. You scout ahead for the nearest city. Look for a doctor or someone of equal skillset and let them know I'm taking the princess. The rest of you should regroup and reorganize our belongings. Head back to the foreign castle if need be."

Salutes sounded in every direction as the other knights scurried to fulfill their responsibilities, leaving you to be taken into Valen's arms. As fluidly as he could, he set you on a nearby horse before climbing up behind you and readjusting you to lay against his chest. A flick of the reins had the horse kicking off into a gallop in a direction you couldn't discern.

"Stay with me, princess. We'll be there soon," Valen said.

You curiously wondered what the theatrics were for; you felt fine! Even though your body is not currently responding to you, the mere fact that you still hold consciousness should be a relief, right? But no one seemed to think so, especially not Valen, who continuously looked down to check on you, spurring the poor horse faster each time. Eventually, you felt yourself dozing off into the warmth of your body—or was it his? You weren't really sure. All you knew was that it was comforting, and you were quite tired.

When the two of you finally burst into the small village of people, Valen spotted an elderly man awaiting his arrival next to the scout he had sent out earlier. Without letting the horse come to a full stop, he scooped you up in his arms and slipped off, rushing to the hut the doctor directed him into. The wound on your head had left stains all across his arms and chest. He worried beyond reason as he urged the frail doctor to work as quickly as he could. His heart had run cold when he realized you had passed out a few miles away, but when the doctor confirmed a pulse, he felt his back weaken from the disappearance of his despair. At this, the doctor ushered the knight out of the room, instructing him to go wash up and get some rest himself so that he wouldn't cause you anxiety when you awoke.

And you did awaken, but not until half a day had passed. When you opened your eyes blearily, you were met with a strange environment you hadn't recognized.

"Oh? Awake already, young lady? How do you feel?" A soft voice spoke to you from your bedside, drawing your attention to an old man wearing a white robe. In your consciousness, he drew out a listening instrument to check your heart rate and breathing.

"Like lead," you admitted, your head throbbing with a dull ache. "Where am I? What happened?"

"It seems you and your husband were attacked. You suffered from head trauma, giving you a concussion that made you lose consciousness for about 12 hours," the old doctor explained. This news sobbed you up, and you looked around to see the time of day.

"Calm down, young miss. You'll still be suffering from the effects of your concussion, so it's best not to make any sudden movements or raise your stress levels. Your husband is in the other room; I'll fetch him for you if you continue resting."

The doctor's words confused you, but at the moment, so many other things did as well. You weren't sure which part to focus on! A flood of questions filled your mind as you laid your head back onto the soft pillow, taking a deep breath to calm down. You needed to find one of your guards—wait, where were they?!

At the same time, another spike of concern shot through your body, and you heard the sliding door open softly. From behind it stepped Valen, who looked…not so good.

"Sir Valen?" you called, "what happened? You look a little worse for wear."

"I could say the same for you too, princess. You gave us all quite the scare," the knight said with a small smile. You motioned for him to come in to sit besides you. "How are you feeling?"

You made a face: "The doctor asked me the same thing; I feel fine if I ignore the fuzzy feeling. Although he did diagnose me with a concussion, I do suppose that's not out of the ordinary. So then, I feel perfect."

"I didn't take you for someone to make jokes during a time like this," Valen responded, his hands crossing over his chest just as they had the very first day you met him. You only smiled sheepishly and said, "Apologies. I don't like to worry about others. It doesn't invalidate my statement, however."

The knight only sighed, shaking his head as he pulled the stool beside your bed to sit down. He began to recount the events that took place, from the moment of the ambush to your injury, before finishing off with scenes from this morning. As he spoke, his eyes constantly flitted to the bandage wrapped around the crown of your head, disrupting your normally regal appearance. You took in everything he said with slow nods, asking questions between his sentences in inquiry about all the others, which he couldn't help but discourage.

"Princess, with all respect," he said, "you're literally in the hospital right now. I'm sure the others are fine, so you shouldn't concern yourself with that for now. Taking care of yourself isn't such a bad thing."

His words made him realize that he'd told you to do the one thing he assumed you had always done as a noble: look out for yourself only. It took him aback slightly, making him pause his words to stare at you with clear eyes. You returned his gaze with a questioning one that he dismissed with a clear clearing of his throat.

If he reflected on this later, then he might realize his change of heart towards you, moved by all that you continued to show him. He might even understand why he felt a death grip of panic clutching his heart when he saw you on the ground, hurt by the villainous monster. Perhaps he would even realize that when the doctor revealed to him that his wife was awake, he hadn't hesitated to get up and see you, not for a single second, questioning why the title felt so natural.

[revryebread]

wild wild west

The door opens with a slam, and one of Bruce’s animatronics- Stuart- was in the door way, holding it’s leaking side. “Sheriff Wayne! There’s been- The Una Gang- they’re here, and they’re breaking people outta the jail!” It’s voice comes strained from behind it’s porcelain face, the gears in it’s voice box struggling to run on less fuel. 

It gets it’s message out, and it collapses onto the floor- a oily handprint smearing from the doorframe as it slumps into a pile of metal, the gears grinding to a halt. Bruce Wayne gets up and tries to level his emotions. He’d been prepared for this. He’d put away so many other problem citizens in his time, Trish Una and her crew would fall just like the rest. His hand is shaking when he grips the brim of his hat, and settles by the time it goes over his head. The title is something he hides behind. Bruce can be scared, but Sheriff Wayne has to be strong, else the people of this town would be helpless.

There’s a part of him who reminds him how he got this job, and who he was before he had the hat and gun, but he shakes it off. No time for second guessing now.

He moves to the doorway and kneels down to pick the badge off the deputy in the doorway, and pulls up his mask as he moves out into the sun. As soon as he steps into the heat of day, he can hear it- the sound of people yelling, the sounds of chaos and disorder. He narrows his eyes and begins to slowly walk towards the other end of the street where the prison is. He had taken over the old Saloon and repurposed it once the jails were full, and then next came the general store, and eventually an entire block of the town had been quarantined as a prison for people he’d found guilty.

A troublesome individual with a book was the first one who was running his way, quickly spotting Sheriff Wayne and trying to go for his book at his side. He was met with the business end of a gun, hitting him in the shoulder that was bending to reach for the book. He looked to him and tried to speak, but the words couldn’t cut through to the Sheriff, he had moved on to the next prisoner escaping, trying to scan for Una.

And there she was- standing at the stables with her crew. Two of them up astride the horses looking down. “What are you doing? People are going to get killed.” the voice he uses for the Sheriff is booming- deeper than his normal cadence. It’s an attempt to make himself more intimidating, and it usually works, but not for her.

She pushes away from her crew- the dark haired boy looks to the Sheriff and- it gives him a stop. He’s looking at him like he’s already a corpse, and he looks pitying about it. Like he’s never seen something more destined to happen. Trish pushes past people on her walk over, and the boy whispers with a voice that Bruce can almost hear- “You need to run.”

“How long?” Trish shouts over the crowd, and it parts for her, as if a ravine was cut from her to the Sheriff. “How long have you been in charge?”

The question is absurd to him- but he answers. “Four years. I’ve been here four years “ The weight of tose years sit on him- but he’s done the best he can in that time. There is so much evil in this world and he’s just one man. He says as much, but Trish narrows her eyes. She’s not listening anymore.

She asks him another question- a non-sequitor. “What sound does a train make?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Look- just help me get everyone under control here and you and your friends can walk free. Just stop wha-”

A gunshot cuts him off. His eyes dart down to the growing red on his chest, and then back over to Trish, who was holding her signature revolver, with a rose gold inlay to give it that pink sheen. She fires again, and again, and again- and when she empties that one she reaches to her other holster and pulls out a reddish gun that has had whatever inscriptions and markings shaved clean by a nail file. She unloads all 12 bullets into Bruce and flips the cylinder out, letting the empty casings drop to the ground.

He’s frozen in place, slowly falling backwards. He sees the boy with the bowlcut reach to the girl and the two of them share a nod, and leave on horse back in separate directions like they’re the only things moving at a normal speed. Trish turns her head and sees that they’ve left- beginning to run back through the crowd to her other crew member who’s still standing there. Her last crew member.

He hits the ground and sees the sky- letting his last breath out of his lungs. He sees a woman step over him and reach down to grab his hat off his body- the hat that used to be hers.

[jasongraceenthusiast]

“ten is a bad person” you never even tried to understand him

[wastelandhell]

[icebrooding]

I think part of why I'm getting writer's block on certain scenes in Wildflowers is because there is no real canon reference to base from. Since the earlier chapters are going to have more 'downtime' and quiet moments between Kaushue and Trahearne until things start getting Intense.

And when I think of Trahearne, I think of how you meet this guy, but then right away it's 'help Arlon & Pellam/Carys & Tegwen/Malyck', and then it's 'find out about Caladbolg and defeat Mazdak', and then he's gone until Claw Island. Then everything goes south and it leads to the rest of your time with him spent building and leading the Pact to defeat Zhaitan. You don't see him again until late Season 2, and he's just been busy focusing on Kralkatorrik, and then Mordremoth. And then it's setting up base in the Silverwastes. Then it's defending the Silverwastes. Then it's Heart of Thorns, and...

You get the idea.

Basically, you never really get any kind of 'downtime' with his character. He is always busy planning something or focusing on some task that needs doing right away, or his military work. The only time this guy ever relaxes is when the Commander straight up forces him to.

I don't really know what he is like when not focusing on some bigger picture, because we never get to see that. Which I feel is very...sad, but it speaks to his character; this guy who just never. Stops.

So it's hard to imagine what he'd be like when not only has he 'stopped', but he's had years to acclimatise to being able to rest and not have to focus on this or that constantly. What he's like when the brakes have been put in place and he has to find a way to exist in a normal capacity.

[ghouljams]

Genuinely cant stop thinking about Viking!Ghost... like you know he's pining after you, you can see the softness in his eyes when he looks at you, the way his gaze follows after you. He left you his cloak, sewed the fang you gave him into his leather, and went out of his way to see you before he left for the last excursion. You tend to keep to yourself, never really thought of family or husbands until he started coming around. Now all the excitement with your friend having her baby left you wanting, left you thinking of the giant Viking that's so often darkened your doorstep. He'd make pretty babies. You don't need to see his face to know it.

But he dances around you, he steps back when you try to step forward. He leaves when you threaten to get too close. And you- you find yourself shying away from the gentleness in his voice. Find your cheeks warm and your voice unsure when he reaches a hand to brush dirt off your cheek, when he adjusts his oversized cloak around your shoulders. His eyes always hold a warmth you've never found in another person, he's careful with you despite his size and it sends your head spinning. You've never been shy a day in your life, but for him... You see the wolf's fang on his leather and look away to cover your smile. He caries you around the world, but he hardly speaks a word to you. It makes your heart flutter.

You thought it would be harder to convince him to come in, to stay for dinner. He casts an unsure glance over his shoulder, watches the setting sun before nodding. You find yourself stalling when he pulls his mask off. Blond hair and honey colored eyes, your hands slip on the edge of the table when you lean to get a closer look. No one has ever called you proper, but it makes the lines around his eyes crease. Ghost pulls you onto his lap so eagerly, doesn't shy away from the fingers that trace over his cheeks, that sweep over the scars and his carefully closed eyes. You study him with such rapt fascination, and he leans into your touch.

You've never seen such a clean shaven Viking. It cuts his features so much more clearly, the lines of his mouth the hollow of his cheeks. He needs someone to feed him properly, you think. A good reason for you to keep him as your own. You mouth along his jaw, dragging your tongue over the shadow of a beard he keeps so neatly trimmed. Ghost's fingers tighten on your hips, dragging you against his swiftly hardening cock. He tips his head back following the dominion of your shadow as you straighten your back and lean against his broad chest. There's just a ring of gold when he opens his eyes, his iris eaten away by his pupils at the barest of your attentions.

He looks at you like you've seen the Völva look at the stars, with some understanding you'd never hope to gain. Eyes that have seen the gods. His lips part and you kiss him to hide the tremor in your resolve.

You don't feel quite so much like you're taking advantage of the man's kindness when your face is buried in the blankets, moans ripped from your throat as he pins you down and fucks you. Each hard thrust of his fat cock punching a new sound from your chest, lost in the mattress and furs until his hand wraps around your throat to pull you up. His lips find your temple, the shell of your ear, his breath panting against your cheek as he fucks his come into you. He pulls you up, lifts you to sit on his thick thighs as he pushes his cock into your sensitive cunt. The hand not holding your throat, keeping your head against his shoulder, spreads wide over your stomach. He rubs his thumb over the soft skin, squeezes you like a promise. Like he could keep you wrapped up with him for the rest of your life.

You blink tears away, each thrust using your own weight against you, forcing you to take him deeper until your legs shake from the tight heat of it. His tongue drags along the fresh bite on your shoulder, the edges of it red and throbbing, perfect impressions of his teeth. You flinch at the wet slip of blood, at the groan that seems to wreck itself on Ghost's vocal cords.

"Ride my cock love," his bloodies lips mumble against your ear, "show me how bad you want it and I'll keep you nice and full."

[midnightarcheress]

stress-relief

husband!Simon helping his wife!reader with her stress <3 cw: nsfw. mdni. fem reader, masturbation, squirting, a lil overstim.

you shuffle through the bag to find the keys to your home, only to drop it the minute you raise it to unlock the door. great. it’s one of those days where everything goes wrong, and you want nothing more than to shut out the world and curl up in bed, silently praying for the next one to be better. 

you pick up the keys from the doormat and swing open the door of your flat, hoping that the familiar scent flooding your lungs will help you ground yourself back to a more serene state. tossing your coat and bag aside, your gaze falls on the tall man quietly reading on the sofa, sweetly mouthing a “welcome back, love.” that you dismiss with a grunt, stomping your way to the bedroom.

‘uh-oh.’ Simon thinks, siren already buzzing and red light blinking in his brain, making him pull up to his feet at god-speed and quickly follow you to your shared room, being met with your clothes scattered around and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. he promptly puts away your discarded attire and sits on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you.

you stay in the shower for some good thirty minutes, allowing the water to wash away your stress as you massage your scalp. the weight finally falls from your shoulders and flows down the drain, leaving you alone with the tiredness that’s been brewing in your tense muscles since you stepped out of the house. with a long, weary sigh, you drape the towel around your body and walk out the bathroom, tiny droplets cascading from your hair to your chest, descending on the swell of your breasts and stirring your husband’s cock in his pants.

“gonna tell me wha’ got you so cranky, dove?” he asks with the slightest of teasing, knowing he’s staggering on the thin line of your temper.

“‘m sorry, jus’ a hard day.” you mutter sheepishly, turning to get some well-deserving comfy clothes on the dresser

“c’mere,” you barely have time to react before Simon pulls you by the wrist onto the bed, positioning your body between his legs as he rests on the headboard, “talk to me, lovie.”

his hands brush your arms delicately, fingers running up and down your skin as you start addressing the misfortunes of your day. how a jerk cut you off in traffic, how a client screamed at you on the phone after you explained it wasn’t possible to fulfill his request, how your long awaited sweet treat after lunch fell straight to the floor, how your mother called just to raise hell at you for not visiting enough, how your boss scolded you for a mistake that wasn’t even your fault.

“hm, she said tha’?” he murmurs, massaging the knots on your shoulders and slowly drifting his hands downwards, opening up the lightly damp towel that’s clinging to your frame as you ramble. his rough, calloused skin finds its way to your soft tits, gently kneading the fat while his lips plant small kisses all over your neck.

“i swear that woman’s out to get me, don't know how i haven’t been fired yet.”

“she knows tha’ place would fall apart without ya, doll. you’re the only one with a brain there,” he coos sweetly in your ear, fingers traveling down your stomach and reaching your mound, making your breath hitch in your throat. Simon smirks at your reaction, feeling your head tipping back to rest on his shoulder and your still wet hair soaking his shirt, “let me help you decompress, eh?”

you, too tired to resist the offer, let him spread your legs with ease, compliant to the touch of your loving husband. his middle finger smears the hasty arousal leaking from your cunt through your slit, softly caressing your folds as you melt into his arms. “so wet f’me, love.” he chuckles, slightly rubbing your clit as you hum.

his moves are tame, gradually pooling the warmth in your belly, taking his time to shape your tension until it’s the right moment to set you free. his finger toys with your entrance before sliding in, feeling the familiar walls of your cunt clenching around it, causing you to breathe heavily at just the beginning.

“you like tha’?” he whispers, introducing another finger on your tight hole as you turn to bury your face on his neck, mewling with pleasure and pain while he stretches you, digits hitting all the right spots. by the time he speeds up the thrusting, your moans are erratic, gasped, barely leaving your throat as you grasp his forearm in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, even with your brain reaching the fucked-out point by a simple touch.

his thumb lazily strokes your swollen nub as he continues to be knuckles-deep inside of your velvety walls, curling his fingers just enough to earn a squeal out of you. the coil on your lower stomach tightens, fibers threatening to snap at any second as Simon murmurs sugary praises in your ears whilst nipping the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, the love bite’s stings only intensifying the pleasure coursing through your bloodstream.

“Simon, ’m gonna-” you don’t even have the energy to complete your sentence before your juices flood on his hand, the god’s nectar gushing from your pussy and dripping from his wrist onto the long forgotten towel, as he bullies your clit to overstimulation. you cry out his name like a prayer, begging whatever higher power out in the universe to let you keep that sensation forever.

“looks like someone really needed tha’,” he laughs and you feel the deep rumbling from his chest on your naked back, only driving you closer to the edge as your legs convulse at the overwhelming thrill of your nervous system. your frantic moans echo in the room when Simon raises his free hand to your nipple, rolling the hardened tip between his thumb and index, painting twinkling stars in the ceiling, the scintillation being too much to keep your vision clear. “think ya got another one f’me, princess?” 

he doesn’t wait for your answer; he knows how to treat his precious wife and can cite by heart the prescription to get you to sleep better than any pill would. tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he starts again, just barely giving you time to recover from the near out-of-body experience. 

his new rhythm is harsh, pulling your thighs - fully covered in slick and arousal - over his to keep you spread open, and fiercely pounding two digits inside you. you squirm and press yourself harder against his broad chest, babbling incoherently as he pumps his thick and scarred fingers somehow even deeper than before. 

“Si, ‘s too much, i can’t-” you choke out, streams rolling down your cheeks as he builds another orgasm out of you. half-lidded eyes meet his hazel irises in a lustful gaze, pleading in agony for another release before your body gives out.

it doesn’t take much before a jolt of electricity tingle beneath your skin and makes you cum, getting you blissfully drunk by finger-fucking only while your peak ripple through your core. your hands sternly grip on the sheets under your limp body, the frenzy running its way through every corner of your being, clouding your vision and leaving you in a divine peaceful haze.

your limbs twitch slightly as you come down from your high, Simon holding you tight in his burly arms and pressing kisses on your pretty face. “you did so good, lovie,” he praises, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your belly, “could’ve given ya s’much more but your eyes are so droopy already,” his quiet laugh almost lull you to sleep right there and then, “feeling better?”

you nod, eyes tempting to close as the fatigue washes over you, weariness creeping up your mind after a hell of a day and a celestial end to it. “thank you, Si.” you mumble with nothing but affection in your voice, utterly elated by the sight of your devoted husband cradling you. 

“anything for ya, my wife.”

just a little something i thought of while procrastinating my other works lol