#with apologies to my wife when she wakes up and sees this

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr

Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.

“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.

Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn’t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.

Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.

She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.

Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.

They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.

“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.

“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.

Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.

That’s what she calls the kitchen.

“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.

“What kind?” He asks.

“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.

“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.

Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.

“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.

“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.

Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.

“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.

“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.

“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.

“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.

“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.

“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.

“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.

“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.

You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.

“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.

“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.

The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.

After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.

Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.

“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.

You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.

“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.

“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.

Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.

“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.

“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.

“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.

“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.

“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.

You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.

“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.

“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.

“He said you’re his wife.” She says.

“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.

“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.

“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.

“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Wife - Pt1

benji blackwood x preg!targ!fem!reader 

His Princess series spin off 

Summary: Two months after settling into Raventree Hall with your new husband. You’re four months pregnant and going through your first pregnancy which isn’t easy but Benji has no issue doing anything and everything to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, pregnancy, birth - detailed but not like super intense, time skips

Authors Note: i wish i had a valid reason of why it took me so FKN long to start this!!!! i think it’s bc i don’t want this series to truly end like i literally have a whole timeline and everything planned out for this but it wasn’t time yet 😔🧎🏼‍♀️ as an apology i made him a munch 🤗

Word Count: 4.1k

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4 months pregnant 

It’s been just over two months since we’ve arrived at Raventree Hall. Our first few weeks consisted of us unpacking the wagons filled with my things and making preparations for housing Vermithor and Silverwing. My mother sent supplies to help support the dragon pit and men have been unloading it daily and it’s near completion now.

Benji attends meetings when he’s not in the yard with his men helping make up for the losses they have suffered. I wish to be out there helping but ever since I started showing it’s been impossible for me to leave the castle without him hauling me back inside. I must admit I’m jealous of the amount of time the men get to spend with my husband. 

My bump is not noticeable when I’m wearing my gowns but he knows it’s there so therefore I apparently can’t do anything. I don’t necessarily mind not training and exuding so much energy everyday but I would like to walk the grounds on my own time. The thing I’m thankful for most is that there is a back exit allowing me to walk directly to Silverwing and he’s smart enough not to keep me from her. 

I cried for days when she laid a clutch. We have become so fiercely inseparable since then that I sneak out here even in the middle of the night to curl up with her. I’ll wake in the middle of the night to a blanket wrapped around me and Benji sitting across from me with worry written across his features. 

“The ground is too hard for you and our child.” his voice rough as he adjusts his back. 

“Then make me a bed.” I turn to him with no intention of getting up. 

“You have one in our chambers.” he looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I want to sleep here.” I murmur. 

“I want you to sleep next to me.” he sits up straighter. 

“Then come here.” I pat the ground next to me. 

“I’ll have a bed out here by tomorrow night.” he sighs before coming to curl up with me and Silverwing. 

Vermithor grumbles and circles around Silverwing before thudding to the ground. Benji pulls my back against his chest and lays his hand across my growing stomach. My hand holds his as I lean back into him and fall back asleep.

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5 months pregnant 

Benji kept his word and had a bed brought in the very next day. We were nervous our dragons would scorch it but Silverwing protects it when I’m not there. The daily meetings have finally lessened as everyone is settling into their new stations. New commanders and trainers have been selected and everyday life is starting to go back to normal. 

As the air begins to chill the more time I spend in the bath. It’s truly a work of art. Smooth stone with carved seating. The amount of handmaids and midwives that wait on me either with fresh soaps or oils is absolutely divine. Seeing this for the first time made me want to marry him again. 

“Still enjoying your bath, my wife?” Benjis voice lingers from the door frame he’s leaning on. 

“I think this is the best thing you’ve ever given me, my husband.” I look him over with low lids. 

“Thank you, ladies. You can leave us.” he nods his head to them with a soft smile as they escort themselves out of our chambers quickly.

“Mm and what have I done to deserve the pleasure of you bathing me?” I hum looking to him as he stalks over to the tub. 

“Can I not dote on my wife?” he cups my cheek and I look up at him adoringly. 

“I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me. You only seem to spend time in meetings or with your men.” I raise an eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I tried to get everything back in order as quickly as I could. You’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of time now.” he helps me rise from the bath and keeps both hands on me at all times. 

“I better or I may have to find a second husband.” I wrap the towel around me tighter as he brings us into our bed chambers. 

“Do not jest about such a thing.” his voice low as he turns to me. “I will kill any man you think could possibly replace me.” his hand goes to rest on my bump.

“Relax.” I chuckle smoothing his furrowed brow. “There is no one else for me.” our eyes lock on one another. 

“You are mine and only mine.” his brow furrows again as he pulls me closer. 

“I am yours.” I nod my head reassuring him. 

“Growing with our child.” he brings both of his hands to my bump and kneels before me. “Our son.” he kisses across my stomach as I brush his hair back. His hands trail up my thighs and my breath catches. 

“Benji,” his name barely a whisper on my tongue. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, my Princess.” he kisses across my thighs. “Come to the bed so I can show you just how sorry I am.” he smirks up at my reddened cheeks. 

As we make it to the bed he pulls my towel off and looks me over with hungry eyes. I turn to him and start to help him undress and as his skin is revealed I caress every inch. My fingertips trail down his torso and start to unlace is trousers. Once he’s freed I look up to him with low lids and he backs me up to the bed. 

He lowers me onto the bed taking great care and settles between my thighs. I get frustrated that I can’t see his full head anymore when he’s between them but that thought leaves my mind the second his tongue licks against me. He spreads my thighs as he makes his way down to my core. I buck as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. My breath comes out in pants as he pushes his tongue in me. I buck against his nose and feel my pleasure about to burst. His tongue slides back up to my bud and moans pour from my mouth. 

“Fuck Benji, yes,” I fist the sheets as I come undone with my chest heaving. He lifts up from my thighs licking his lips. He kisses up to my mouth and I whine as I feel him start to push into me. He slowly kisses me as he rolls his hips into mine. Our tongues caress each other as he continues at a languid pace. I whine into his mouth as I feel my pleasure begin to build. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he pants as his rhythm starts to falter. “My wife, my princess.” he whispers and I come undone around him. I feel him still as his warmth spreads throughout causing my toes to curl. He slowly pulls out and rests next to me, smoothing my hair. He leaves soft kisses along my neck as his hand rests across my bump. After we settle for a couple of minutes I turn to him. 

“I want to-“ 

“I know, I know.” he kisses my forehead before rolling out of bed. He pulls on a pair of night pants before he finds me a night dress and brings it over to me. He helps me sit up and slips the soft fabric over my head. We walk down the back steps and curl up with our dragons. 

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6 months pregnant 

I roll my eyes as Benji clips me into Silverwing and triple checks that everything is secure. Silverwing grumbles at the same time as I exhale loudly. I hear Benjis soft chuckle as he pulls back to look at me. He kisses across my furrowed brow before placing a quick kiss on my lips. 

“Stop pouting.” he bites his lip to stifle his laugh. 

“Then get off. We want to fly.” my hands squeeze the leather reins. 

“At once, princess.” he bows and I curse lowly at him much to his delight. “I’ll see you in the skies.” once I see him walking to Vermithor we launch into the sky. Silverwing glides us along the breeze along the countryside and I let my eyes drift shut. The wind blows through my hair and we slowly make our way up to the clouds. 

I open my eyes when I feel the cool kiss of the clouds against my cheeks. Silverwing sings as she pushes us through them as I smile and lean against her. I hear a deep hum and see Benji below us on Vermithor. We dip down to them and they circle around us. Our dragons sing to each other as they fly on the breeze together before bringing us back home. 

“You two are magnificent.” Benji stands at Silverwings feet and looks up to us. I unclip and climb down to the side and Benjis hands are around my waist immediately. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he looks me over, always assessing. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” I grab his cheeks and look in his eyes nodding. “You don’t need to be so protective.” 

“It’s my job to be protective.” Benji starts to lead me up the stairs to our chambers and I groan. 

“Yes, I know.” I sigh as he starts to take off my jacket and boots. “It’s just overbearing sometimes.” I mumble sitting back into a chair as he tries to unlace my shirt. 

“You don’t even want to undress yourself.” he chuckles as he starts to lift the fabric over my head. 

“Because you’ll insist you do it.” I relax further back and he begins to shimmy off my trousers. 

“Do you want me to stop?” his tone borderline mocking and I squint my eyes at him. 

“Benji do not test me.” he smirks at my words. 

“I can call your handmaidens up here.” he hums as he pulls my trousers the rest of the way off. 

“Then leave.” I huff looking down at him. “I don’t know why you insist on being so difficult.” he holds back his smile. 

“Relax, my wife. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” he kisses up my leg smirking against my skin. 

“Use your mouth for something useful or leave.” I prop myself up to look down at him. 

“So which is it then? Leave or don’t?” he licks his lips. 

“I should throw you in the dueng-“ a moan tears through me as he licks up my slit. He stays buried between my thighs until I’m crying out his name and shaking beneath him. He pulls off his clothes before settling next to me and splaying his hand across my bump with his face next to his. 

“I can’t wait for you to join us out here. I’m scared of mommy.” he whispers and I tug his hair. 

“Benjicot.” I scold. 

“I think she’s just so excited to meet you that is making her lose her patience.” he coos peppering kisses against my swollen stomach. 

“Daddy doesn’t understand what I’m going through to bring you to us.” I hum rubbing my stomach. “And if daddy doesn’t mind his words he’ll find himself unable to speak any.” Benji chuckles, coming up to place a kiss on my lips. 

“You are absolutely radiant and if you want me to be silent for the rest of our days then I shall be.” he kisses down my jaw and before cuddling me against him. 

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7 months pregnant 

The days have begun to feel longer and I’m now grateful for Benji waiting on me hand and foot. Lately the only reason I’m out of bed is to sit in the bath. My mother sent a dozen midwives and maesters to aid me in the coming months to help me adjust. I’ve just felt so uncomfortable and I miss flying. 

“Let me help you back to bed.” Benji pleads from outside of the tub. 

“I feel even more uncomfortable in bed.” my voice cracks as I look to him. 

“The water is cold and you’re pruning.” his brows furrowed as he holds my hand. 

“I don’t care.” my lip wobbles. 

“What can I do to get you out of the tub?” he kneels down searching my eyes. 

“I want to see Silverwing.” my eyes pleading. 

“That’s a lot of stairs.” he winces as I sigh loudly. 

“Then just get me up.” I wave my hand angrily. 

“My love-“ 

“Just get me up. I don’t care.” I snap as I start to rise out of the bath ignoring my back yelling in protest. His hands fly to my waist and wrap around me under my arms to help me step out. I walk slowly back over to the bed and ease onto it with a grunt. 

“Do you want me to get the midwives or maesters?” Benji looks down at me worriedly. 

“No.” I wince pushing myself up. “I don’t want anything.” I glance at him before pulling the blankets over me. “Just leave.” I huff at the hot tears running down my cheeks. 

“My princess, please,” he steps toward me. 

“Benji, just give me an hour.” I toss my head back into the pillow. I curse myself for being so mean to him. I’m just uncomfortable and I hate all of the restrictions. The past month has been so uncomfortable I can’t bear it anymore. I’m getting so pent up and stir crazy I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this for two more months. I brush away my tears as I settle further into the bed letting my only other reprieve: sleep take over.

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I open my eyes to a dimly lit room and Benji asleep in a chair at the end of the bed. I sigh at myself that my actions and words made him feel the need to sleep in a chair. I stretch down and push my foot against his leg to wake him up. He slowly blinks and looks to me with a lazy smile. 

“How are you my beautiful wife?” he hums watching my cheeks flush. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean.” my voice small and he frowns. 

“You’re not mean. Why would you think that?” he stands and walks to my side to brush my hair back. 

“You didn’t sleep in bed with me.” I look up to him. 

“You asked me to give you space. I figured that staying at the end of the bed was a good compromise.” he leans down to kiss my forehead. 

“Come to bed.” I push my bottom lip out and he chuckles. He slips into bed beside me and we turn to look at one another. “I’m sorry.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.” he shakes his head. 

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8 months pregnant 

“Why did you send word for her?” my voice travels throughout our chambers. 

“You won’t leave our chambers or see any midwife or maester. You won’t let them even check up on the babe. Who else did you expect me to write to? She can give us answers without even needing to see you.” I fume at his words. 

“Gods know if you ever ceased contact with Alys in the first place.” I roll my eyes at him as I ease myself down to the couch with shaky arms. 

“Enough.” Benji says through his teeth as he helps me sink to the cushions. “Can I bring her up?” he looks down to me clenching his jaw. 

“Whatever pleases you.” I huff resting back. I’m doing fine, I just don’t want so many people around me. I feel claustrophobic in my own body. I don't need to feel like that in my chambers as well. As Alys walks through the door she seems to glide over to me and looks at me with curious eyes. 

“How are you, princess?” she asks taking a seat next to me. 

“Ready to have this babe.” I sigh, resting my hand on my swollen stomach. 

“Any discomfort?” I laugh at her question. 

“Of course. Look at me.” I turn my head to her with a smile. “Benji is insistent on having every person available hover over me. I’m just tired.” Alys looks to me with a smile. 

“Leave us.” she waves at Benji. He slips out of our chambers and I turn my head to her expectantly. “May I?” she asks, looking to my bump. 

“Go ahead.” I nod and watch as she places her hand against me. I watch as emotions pass across her face until she’s lifting her hand off and smiling at me. 

“He’s well. No issues. But you on the other hand..” she tsks. “Allow your husband to care for you.” she gives me a knowing look. “It’ll help relax you. Your tense state isn’t good for anyone. I’ll be staying to help with the birth.” she stands and walks to the door. 

“That’s unnecessary.” I call after her and she waves me off before dipping through the door. I shake my head at the fact that she said nothing of true value besides that my babe is healthy. Benji slips through the door with red cheeks and walks over to me. “What did she say to you?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“She told me to come in here and please you until you relax.” his voice low as his cheeks flush even darker. 

“She’s ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and watch him as he stalks over to me. 

“It’s been awhile..” he trails off standing before me. “You don’t even have to move.” he hums, getting on his knees and pushing up my night dress. 

“Benji,” my voice broken as he runs his hands up my legs. 

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?” he looks up to me with dark eyes. 

“The bed.” I nibble my lip. He stands and helps me over to the bed. He pulls my night dress off of me and helps prop me up against the pillows. He settles between my legs kissing both of them. His tongue darts against my inner thighs and I buck into him. His hands hold my thighs open as he licks a thick stripe up my slit. “Fuck Benji,” I tremble above him fisting the sheets. 

“Just let go princess.” he says before attaching his mouth to me. High pitched gasps fall from my mouth as he swirls his tongue around my sensitive bud. My thighs shake as he holds them open as lashes against me. I burst across his face and he keeps lapping his tongue against me. I feel my pleasure building by the second as I push back into the pillows. Benji follows my movements and slips his tongue down to my core as I grind against his face. 

“Right there Benji,” I cry out as I pulse around his tongue. He pulls up and replaces his tongue with his fingers against my bud. When I see his face I see that he’s smiling wildly with a wet chin as I squirm around his fingers. 

“How’s that feel?” he licks his lips watching me pant and grind against his hand. 

“So good,” I whine as he dips his fingers into me. A wrecked sob tears through me as I burst across his fingers. He starts to push his fingers in faster and I feel like I’m in a continuous high as I pulse around him. He slows his pace and my breathing starts to come out in little gasps. He pulls them out and lays in bed next to me as my chest heaves. “Thank you,” I turn to him with heavy lids. 

“Rest.” he presses his lips against mine and holds me as I sleep. 

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Birth

“I’m right here. You can hold my hand.” Benjis soft voice irritates me. 

“I don’t want to hold your fucking hand.” I grit out as another contraction washes over me.

“Hey, hey,” my mother comes to my side with a cool cloth. 

“He’s the reason I’m in this situation.” I stare daggers at him as he holds his hands up. 

“Benji, go get her a glass of water.” my mother turns to him and he’s on his feet at once with a purpose. “Focus on your breathing with me.” she looks in my eyes and nods her head. 

“It’s almost time to begin pushing.” Alys says from the doorway. 

“I have the water.” Benji pushes past Alys and is back at my side. 

“Gods everyone get away from me. I’m hot. Stop hovering.” I start to panic at the reality of me having to actually have this babe and it’s becoming overwhelming. I squeeze my eyes shut willing everyone to be quiet and let me breathe. 

“Look at me, my wife.” Benjis words catch my attention. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” I focus on his calm words as my mother lays my brow with the cold cloth. 

“I’m scared.” I look up at him as another contraction rocks through me. 

“I’m here.” Benji assures me holding my hand tightly. 

“I’m here too, sweet girl.” my mother whispers. I cry out as another cramp slams my senses. 

“It’s time.” Alys sweeps into the room and is next to the maester in seconds. 

“Push,” the maester instructs and my body responds accordingly. I scream as I push again and my mother tries to get me to focus on her breathing. Sweat forms on my brow and my mother dabs it away as I squeeze Benjis hand. 

“You’re doing amazing.” Benjis words of encouragement offer me some comfort as I feel the breath stolen from me at the pain. 

“Push princess.” Alys instructs and I groan as tears stream down my face. I push and gasp for breath. “I can see the head.” Alys nods at me. 

“You’re almost there.” my mother offers me her hand and I squeeze it tightly as I give my all into this last push. I sigh as I feel a loss of pressure and Benji chuckles from my side. I hear the babes cry and soon Alys is bringing the babe up to my arms. 

“How is he?” I cry as I hold him. 

“He’s healthy as expected.” she brushes against the babes dark silver hair. 

“You're incredible.” Benji whispers, wrapping his arm around me. The babe opens his eyes and I gasp taking in his one violet eye and his one brown eye. 

“He’s absolutely handsome.” my mother peeks over my shoulder at him. “What will you name him?” 

“Daemon.” Benji and I speak at the same time. 

“He would be so proud.” my mother brushes the hair from my forehead. “We’ll give you three some time.” she nods for everyone to clear out of our chambers. 

“Help me up.” I look to Benji. 

“I will do no such thing.” he looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it to you.” 

“I wish to put him in his crib with his egg.” I coo down to my son as I spot Benji walking over to the wooden frame. “And if daddy scrapes that crib against the floor to bring it over here and wakes you up from your sleep mommy will kick him out for the night.” I caress Daemons cheek. 

“Five minutes.” Benji relents coming to my side. I wince and groan as I rise from the bed with the babe in my arms. He helps me walk over to the crib. I place our son on the feather mattress and he turns to curl against his egg. Benji holds me against him as I lean on him for support as we watch our son sleep. “Back to bed.” he helps me slowly get back into bed and covers me before slipping in beside me.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

okokok so i’m anticipating at least one to two more parts of this 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[clove-pinks]

Tired of naming every cardboard box we give to cats Fort Asshole, I made this one Fort George so the cats can defend Upper Canada from American invasion.

My regulars are prepared this time!!

[bunbunlovestowrite]

How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet

Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,

Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p

Tengen

He couldn't care less

His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud

Like it's not his fault that dick is magical

After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night

He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"

He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow

Way to ruin the mood

But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor

"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so

He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head

"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing

"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen

Sanemi

Cares alot

Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?

You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison

Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.

Anyways

Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible

Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"

Not kidding I can see him doing that

He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.

But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window

One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!

Good Lord was he waiting for this

It took one punch and the guy was out

Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living

Rengoku

He's a good neutral between caring and not caring

Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams

So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck

The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up

"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology

Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you

"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden

"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.

It works for a bit before he's yelling again

You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes

He's actually quiet in bed though

So your the problem (real)

Obanai

I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be

Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud

It's your neighbor who was the problem

A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns

You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over

He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness

Obanai cared at first but got over it

You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed

Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons

At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"

Brother is STRESSING

Then you cum and he's like "ah"

Then he's like "Did you take it?"

You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting

Gyomei

Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer

Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?

NO

Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.

And Gyomei loves it!

He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good

Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet

He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.

Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what

When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏

When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed

Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.

Don't worry he thinks its endearing

Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you

But your touches and now quieter moans made that better

And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard

Giyuu

Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed

Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color

He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips

If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will

Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.

But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet

You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.

So you nod and try to keep quiet.

You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?

Yeah that was you

You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."

And you couldn't help but laugh

Like howling

You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that

You've never seen Giyuu so panicked

But give him a week and he'll stop caring

[entitled-fangirl]

Heterochromia.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT 18+ PLEASE

Summary: the reader finally notices Cregan's eyes are two different colors. It enthralls her.

Warnings: sex, p in v, riding, kissing, talks of sex, the works, idk I didn't proofread so my b

A/n: this was based on an ask!

Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

..............................................

Cregan held her to him as they both came down from their highs.

Sweat covered both of their foreheads, their hair greased with it. Cregan ran a hand across her forehead, gathering her hair and moving it behind her ear.

Cregan held himself up with one arm, the other caressing her face gently. His voice was soft. "You alright?"

She nodded, her eyes still glazed over and her breathing erratic.

His eyes studied her momentarily before deciding that was enough for him. 

The two sat in a brief silence as they tried to gain their bearings, the only sound being their panting and the occasional kiss between them. 

Finally, she broke the silence.

"Your eyes are beautiful."

It was so soft, he barely heard it. His brows furrowed as he looked down at her, the sheer blinds on the window doing nothing to keep out the light from outside, "Hmm?"

"Your eyes, Cregan." Her hand came up to his cheek. "They're quite lovely."

His hand on her face reached out and grabs her wrist, pulling her hand down to his lips where he kisses her palm. "You're far lovelier."

A sweet smile dons her face as Cregan continues to lay soft kisses against her palm.

"Perhaps a bath is in order?" She asked.

He pulls away from her hand finally, looking back down at her. "I do believe so."

She moves to sit up, hissing slightly at the burn inside her.

Cregan grabs her hips, keeping her down on the bed "What do you think you're doing?" He asks lowly.

"Getting… getting the servants?" She asked in confusion.

His eyes study her face before he shakes his head, "My lady wife will do no such thing."

"Cregan-"

A heavy kiss is laid on her lips, but before she has time to react, Cregan is already pushing himself off of the bed to stand. 

He dresses his lower half, taking the occasional glance to her, who is watching him just as much.

He walks to the door, poking his head out for just a moment before returning to her with a damp cloth.

He pauses at the foot of the bed, his eyes staring at her frame lovingly, "You're the most beautiful creature I've laid eyes on."

She smiles, pushing herself up but Cregan quickly sits at the end of the bed and pushes her shoulder down.

"Let me take care of you."

She's quick to give in, never one to fight the man. 

He pushes her thighs apart, a feeling she was not unfamiliar with, but a soft gasp left her lips when the cold cloth was brushed across the inside of her thighs. 

Cregan's quick to apologize, "'m sorry, my love. Didn't think it was too cold."

But it doesn't stop him from cleaning her up. With every wipe of the cold cloth, he bent down and placed a warm kiss in its wake. When the cloth began to clean further up, she let out a soft groan, "Careful, Cregan, or we'll never get to that bath."

He grinned, sitting up and looking over at her, "That wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"

She let out a breathy laugh, "You're a wonder, Stark."

"I only aim to please you, my lady."

With her cleaned up, Cregan threw the cloth aside. He reached down to the floor, picking up his tunic. "I had the bath drawn in your chambers. I… I didn't want the servants to see you until you felt ready to be seen."

He moved to the side of the bed, reaching an arm under her back to help her sit up. "I do hope that was alright."

She nodded, placing a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

He threw the tunic over his wife's head, the long fabric puddling around her waist. 

He looked around, grabbing his cloak and pulling it over her shoulders.

She giggled, "What are you doing?"

Cregan then stretched both arms under her, picking her up off of the bed with ease. 

One of her hands wrapped around his neck, the other pulling the cloak around her half naked form as she shrieked in surprise.

"I'm taking my beautiful wife to bathe. Is that alright?"

She grinned, "I suppose."

…

Though insistent that she shouldn't strain her legs, Cregan couldn't tell her no when she straddled him in the tub.

At least in the water, he could support her hips. 

"They really are," she insisted.

He threw his head back with a light laugh, "I doubt your words, my love."

Both of her hands cupped his face, "They are truly the most spectacular colors I've ever seen."

"My eyes are not. They are not even the same color," he argued.

"And you believe that to be a defect?" She scoffed.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "No. Only… unusual."

"There is much beauty in the unusual, you know." She said in a insistent tone.

Only then did the words truly hit him. Cregan had once been insecure of his eyes as a young boy. In the North, it was easy to hide things. Eyes were never one of them.

His fingers dug into her hips lightly, "You truly think so?"

She noticed the softness that had suddenly come into his voice. She tilted her head. "I do. Why else would I say such a thing to you?"

His shoulders shrugged, "Dunno. I guess I've just never believe that about myself."

She kissed his cheek, "Allow me to change that."

…

The next day, the two spent the day in the courtyard. Cregan worked on his sword skills, while she sat nearby with her book. 

When the spar between him and his colleague had finished, he tossed Ice into the dirt and walked to her. 

Only when his shadow ran over the pages in her book did she notice him, prompting her to look up at the towering man. 

"Did you win?"

A breathy chuckle left his lips, "My love, I always win."

He pulled the book from her hands and knelt down in front of her. "I'll be finished in just a bit. Any plans for the rest of the day?"

Sunlight entered the courtyard, an unusual event for the North to receive direct sun. 

Cregan look up at the sky, squinting his eyes and looking back to her.

If he said something after that, she didn't hear it. She was so focused on the way the sun lit his eyes to brighter hues. 

It was breathtaking.

"I do." Was all she said to his question.

…

A few hours later, she was dragging a blindfolded Warden of the North behind her as she pulled him into her room.

She smiled when she saw the sunlight was still there. Though sunset, it lent a single golden beam through her window. 

Perfect.

"Sit." 

Cregan let out a scoff. "Where am I?"

"Sit down, Cregan."

He huffed, pulling his cloak out and sitting down on the cold floor.

The sun shine brightly through the blindfold, and he grimaced lightly.

He grunted when she began to pull at his clothes, stripping him of his cloak, and soon his tunic.

"My love-"

"-Trust me."

He continued to sit there, the sun keeping the cold chill of Winterfell away.

When her hands unbuttoned his trousers, he grabbed her wrist harshly, as if instinct, "Are you sure?"

She grinned, though it was still unseen by his eyes. "Very much so."

He hissed when her fingers began to pump up and down his length. 

"Sit still, Cregan."

He hadn't even noticed his hips moving. 

Soon, he felt her body heat near his.

She straddled him, sitting herself down on his length with a hiss of her own.

"Gods," he groaned.

When she felt adjusted to him, she yanked the blindfold off, the sun overwhelming for his eyes for a moment. 

When they adjusted, he saw where he was, but more accurately, the bright smile that his wife wore. 

"Pretty girl, what is this?"

"I want to see you fall apart for me. Your eyes. I want to see your eyes like this when I pleasure you."

Her hips rolled, making Cregan's hands grip her hips as he groaned. 

When his eyes closed, she lightly tapped his cheek, "Open. I want to see you. All of you."

The brilliant blue and green in his eyes came to life, as did he.

Her breath hitched at the sight, prompting her to roll her hips again.

…

Anytime the sun managed to visit Winterfell after that day, strangely enough, no one would see the Lord and Lady Stark. 

They were busy during those times, it seemed.

………………………………………..

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne

[captain-hawks]

double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[writing-fanics]

lady with the butterfly necklace in the portrait [part one]

[summary: angel asks about the portrait of a woman in the hallway]

[warning: angst: mentions of death]

Lucifer at the portrait in the lobby of the hotel. Staring longingly at the woman in the portrait, her [hair length] hair and [e/c] eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous he felt a twinge of pain, as he reached out towards the portrait. How his heart ached, as he placed his hand on the portrait.

Her smile could light up any room, and make anyone smile. She was beautiful, the butterfly necklace wrapped around her neck. Her smile her portrait, portrayed her with grace and poise.

Angel looked towards Lucifer, as he stared at the portrait “You’ve been gawking at the portrait for minutes?” He said, walking up behind him causing the king of Hell to glance over at him.

“Who’s that?” asked Angel, curiously as he liked this popsicle. Lucifer smiled softly reminiscing on the good times he spent with her, “She was my wife,” said Lucifer, his smile faltering the pain in his chest unbearable.

Angel looked at the portrait, of the lady. A young Charlie sat on her lap, smiling. A butterfly hair clip in her hair. Lucifer stood beside his wife and daughter, smiling.

Angel looked at him and folded his arms across his chest, “Where is she now?” He asked, blatantly.

Lucifer eyes lowered to the ground, fixated. He looked slowly back up at the portrait, he missed her so much that it hurt. He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve protected her. He should’ve been a better husband.

Angel figured it out by the silence, and had an inkling that she was no longer with us. Yet, his blatant curiosity and slight being noisy got the better of him. Force of habit.

“She was amazing, loving, kind, i see as much as her in Charlie as much as I see myself.” He said, and Charlie looked at him sadly. She vaguely remembered that how her father, completely broke down.

“S-She..” He shuddered, looking down using his cane to support himself. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The look of horror and sadness plastered on his face. When he opened the door, and a sinner demon was holding the lifeless body of their queen.

His wife

His partner

He stared at the floor for a moment, as tears threatened to brim his eyes. “There was a knock at the door,”He said, looking back up at the others.

Her wings torn from her body and stained with, gold ichor. She looked peaceful and had a faint smile, on her lips. Her body covered in scratches and cut. A slash around her neck, stared blankly and took her body into his arms.

His eyes turned into slits and the sinner demon bowed, and apologized for his loss. “S-She told me to tell you to take care of Charlie for me, and that she loves you two more than anything.” The demon said, sadly and Lucifer just stood there emotionless.

He didn’t notice Charlie rubbing her eyes, as she walked up behind him. Wondering what her father was doing at the front door, until she noticed. “Mama?” said Charlie, curiously. Lucifer world seemed to spin, how much more can Heaven take from him. His wife and unborn child was gone.

“She died protecting what few sinners she could,” He said, clearing his throat. “She was pregnant,” He shuddered, placing his hand over his mouth and dragging it downward. Angel looked at him sadly, almost regretting having asked the question entirely.

Angel seethed his teeth, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to-” said Angel, but was interrupted by Lucifer.

Lucifer shook his head, “No, it’s okay, it happened awhile ago.” He said, even though it was true it happened ninety years ago. The memory was still fresh and it felt like it happened yesterday.

There were nights he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. Still missing the warmth of his beloved of his partner, her laughter that used to wake him up every morning as Charlie leaped into their bed. Her absolute beautiful singing voice, and how the rare butterflies of hell would flock to her. As if she was their queen.

“S-She sounds amazing,” said Angel, as he looked at the portrait, and a smile grew across Lucifer’s lips. “Yeah, she was.” said Lucifer, as he gripped the ring around his neck being held by a chain.

A duck swam towards the edge of the pond in Heaven, there sat a woman humming to herself. A scar around her neck as she began to feed the ducks. She giggled, as one flapped its wings at the sight of the bread. She lifted her head revealing her [e/c] eyes.

[michelle-is-writing]

Unsuspecting Suspect, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

In movies, the "pregnant women always have to go to the bathroom" is a popular joke to use. However, what most people don't realize is that the joke is highly played down. What you see in movies is nothing compared to what really occurs.

What really occurs is getting up from bed after only five minutes of getting comfortable to go to the bathroom for the fiftieth time that day. Not to mention you've become so used to the bathroom that you don't even have to turn the lights on or anything - you already know where everything is. Plus, if you're me, then that also means picking up your husbands lazily discarded pants that are crumpled up on the floor with his gun and all of his badges still hooked on there just so you can wash your hands.

"Spencer, I know you've worked long and hard," I start, picking up his wrinkled slacks from the bathroom floor. "But if your pregnant wife has to continue bending over and picking up your pants every time she has to use the bathroom because your daughter seems to think my bladder is a punching bag," I begin taking everything off of his belt. "Then I might just have to use you as a punching bag."

"I'm sorry!" I hear him apologize from the bedroom, an ounce of laughter behind his voice. "I forget and just leave them there - I'm sorry!" Spencer repeats himself, making me bite my lip from laughter. He has eidetic memory, and yet, he still 'forgets' his pants when he takes them off everyday he comes home from work.

Taking his badge off his belt and placing it on the counter, I begin dismantling everything else as well. The last thing to remove is his gun and holster, and with this clunky thing, I try as hard as I can to not let it make a sound as I put it on the countertop. Spencer has been very quiet for the past few minutes, and if he's fallen asleep, I don't want to accidentally wake him up.

I just hope he's not quiet because he's worrying himself sick. As of lately, he's had a stalker that the BAU can't seem to figure out who they are. They know they're male, going by the style of handwriting, and they know he has a pattern. Every Tuesday, a letter is sent to Spencer's desk at the BAU, and yet, there's never a return address or fingerprints to go off of. Today was Tuesday, and for some reason, Spencer didn't receive anything. It worried Spencer a lot, but I'm just hoping the stalker has given up; however, his previous letters show no sign of him doing this which makes this all more worrisome.

"No, no, please," I hear Spencer's voice from the bedroom once more, making my eyes go wide as I quickly catch onto the fright and panic in his tone. Who is he talking to? Especially when I've been in this bathroom no longer than five minutes, and I didn't hear a phone ring or anything.

"You are Spencer Reid," My ears catch a very unfamiliar voice, causing me to fully come to a halt with Spencer's revolver still in my hand. Who the hell is in my house? And how the hell did they get in?

Silently padding over to the bathroom doorway, I try as hard as I can to crack open the door enough to see who's in our house. As I do so, I feel my heart beat a mile a minute, and the little girl in my stomach still hasn't given up on her kicking assault. "Your birthday is October of nineteen-eighty-one. Your mother,"

The man pauses to laugh, appearing as if he were trying to mock Spencer; I take this chance to open the doorway as much as I can without alerting the man, and thankfully, it seems to be a success. "The poor old broad can't decipher through her own mind - never has been able to," The man continues. "Finally, you turn eighteen, you send her away, and you go on to live your own life in college and, soon enough, the BAU,"

Slowly peeking around the corner, I see the man talking to a very wide-awake Spencer with his gun raised at him, no mask concealing his face. Instead, his entire body is covered in black material spanning from a dark turtleneck all the way down to pitch black slacks and charcoal boots. Yet, his head and face are completely visible to anyone who sees him, and going by the fact that he's doing such a thing, he thinks he's going to get away with it and not get caught. Not on my watch.

"You've spent- no, wasted! Wasted nearly eleven years of your life on a job that prevents you from actually having a life!" At the mans words, I squint my eyes while readying Spencer's gun in my hands. "Face it, doctor Reid - you are nothing! I am smart - we are smart! But you have married yourself to your job that doesn't need you; it needs me," with that, the man pauses once again, but this time, he begins to pant, obviously worked up over what he's been saying. This guy has to be one of the most conceited guys to walk the earth.

"Now," The man states, leveling his eyesight with the gun once again. "Was there anything I missed?"

At this point, I come around the bathroom corner with Spencer's gun raised at the man. Through the sights, I see the two small pieces of metal lining up with the mans head, and in my peripherals, I see Spencer warily nod his head as he glances over me with extreme and utter nervousness.

"Uh, y-yes, actually," my husband answers, swallowing down his worry as the fate of his life rests at the tip of my fingers. Now that I think about it, if it weren't for Spencer's bad habit of leaving his pants in the middle of the bathroom floor, I wouldn't have the ability to save him right now.

Just as the man turns around, I line up the sights with his head once again as I pull the hammer back, the trigger following soon after. Watching as the man quickly goes down with no life left in him, only slight convulsions surging through him now, I slowly let my hands fall back to my side as the realization of what just occurred passes through me. I just shot someone... someone who was threatening my husband's life, but still! I've never done that before, and I never want to have to do it ever again!

Within a few moments of my eyes widening in shock, I feel Spencer take me into his arms while slowly taking the gun out of my hand and tossing it onto our bed. "You did so well, love," Spencer assures me in my ear, making me slowly sit on the ground with him as shock runs through me. I'm so stunned by what just happened that I can barely breathe. "You did good, baby, you did so good. I'm so proud of you."

Despite Spencer's words running through my head, I find myself suddenly gasping as I realize something. "Baby! The baby!" I almost shout, turning my head toward Spencer as my now free hand falls to my thirty-week old bump. "Spence, the-the noise, the noise! Could the noise have hurt her ears?"

Immediately, Spencer shakes his head before moving to place his hand on top of mine, his other hand raising at the same time to wipe away the sudden rush of tears falling down my face. "No, no, she's fine, (Y/n), she's fine," Spencer assures me, gently rubbing his thumb against my clothed belly. "The muscles and amniotic fluid protect her, so when the noise does reach her ears, it's extremely muffled," he further explains, gently taking my face into his hands to turn me toward him. "But I am going to have a medic look over you and the baby when they get here, okay?"

Keeping my eyes on his, I nod before laying my head against his chest, a small sigh falling from my lips. "He was the stalker, right?" I ask Spencer, my eyes flickering up to his face as his hand reaches down to gently card through my hair.

Spencer simply nods. "Yeah, he was," he tells me, making me shake my head. "The way he spoke, it's how he wrote his letters," Spencer further explains, "He was an obvious narcissist with a superiority complex - just like his letters."

That would explain the man's words from earlier and how selfish they all were. Although, what if the cops don't believe us and arrest me in spite of what's been going on? I know Spencer wouldn't have gotten in trouble shooting him as a BAU agent, but what about me?

"Spencer, am I going to jail?" I immediately ask, my eyes growing wide as panic sets in my chest.

"No, no, you aren't, and you need to calm down," Spencer tells me, holding my head to his chest as he kisses my temple. He's trying to comfort me while also preventing me from looking over at the dead man currently lying on our bedroom floor. "You did nothing wrong, that was self-defense, and you protected me as well as save me from the man who was going to kill me, no doubt," he points out, his voice growing softer with every word. "You're awesome, love."

In response to his comment, I find myself lightly laughing with tears rising to my eyes again. That's what I usually tell Spencer when he gets back from a case and they successfully stopped a killer. Even if the case goes awry and Spencer returns home sad or disappointed in himself, I still remind him of my usual compliment. Now, much to my disbelief, the roles have reversed and now it is me who has stopped the bad guy.

Once my breathing is slowed and my panic has settled down, Spencer helps me go back to our bathroom where he makes me stay. Without wasting anymore time, Spencer grabs his phone from his side table and dials the police before walking through the house with his gun in hand to make sure there are no other intruders. Thankfully, there isn't, and Spencer soon returns to the bathroom to take me out to the living room, getting me as far away from the dead body as he can all the while making sure I remain comfortable.

Sitting behind me on the couch, Spencer makes me lie between his legs as I rest my back against his chest, his right hand rubbing soothing circles against my bump while he uses his other to dial up his team. Thankfully, soon of them are still at the office working late when Spencer calls.

"(Y/n) shot the stalker?" I hear Derek's familiar tone over the phone as Spencer explains the situation. As he goes on, the sound of sirens in the distance slowly grow closer, and the only thing I can do is hold a hand to my swollen tummy as our little girl gives the occasional kick to my ribs.

"Yes, directly in the head," Spencer answers Derek with a quick glance over to our bedroom where the dead body remains, the spilled blood from his wound no doubt soaking into floor. I never would have listed 'blood is easier to clean up' as a pro when choosing hardwood over carpet. "She shot like a trained officer."

Spencer's comment warrants a rare chuckle from their boss. "Too bad she wasn't able to help you when you failed your shooting test and needed to retake it," Hotch's voice pipes up from the background, causing Spencer to let out a little 'hey!' in response. In light of the situation, I laugh a little at that. I can remember him calling me after failing it and I had to tell him it was okay. Of course, in his mind, it wasn't.

"I don't fail tests." I remember him telling me, making me laugh. No matter what I said, he still continued on about failing the test, unable to let it go.

"The team will be here in a few minutes, okay?" I hear him tell me, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the moment. I hadn't even realized he ended the call with his team.

Still, I nod back at him, only a few seconds passing before he's leaning over and pressing his lips against my cheek. "It'll all be okay," He assures me, making me slightly nod with another small shuddered breath. "I promise," He further assures me, sensing my anxiety. "I'd never let anything happen to my hero~"

[tonyspank]

WH0 R U 2???

Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.

Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)

A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u

part 1

Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.

Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.

As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.

Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.

"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.

"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.

You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.

"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.

Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."

"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."

You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.

"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.

"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.

The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"

"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"

Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.

"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"

You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."

Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."

You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."

Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."

"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.

You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.

Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.

When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.

But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.

Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."

Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.

"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.

Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.

Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?

Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles

Shit.

Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes

Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll

Tara: just tell sam im on the way

Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house

Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 

Tara: wtf? no?

Tara: ill ttyl

-

The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.

Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.

"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.

"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."

Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."

"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."

Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."

You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"

You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."

You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"

Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"

You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."

-

You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."

You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."

Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.

You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.

On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.

Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.

Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.

You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.

"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.

You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.

Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.

A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.

Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?

The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.

Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.

When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.

Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.

"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.

Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.

Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.

You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.

Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.

She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.

One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.

You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.

Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.

Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.

You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.

You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.

"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.

Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."

You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.

And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.

"Y/N! Shit!"

You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.

While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.

Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."

Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.

Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.

The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.

You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.

Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.

Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.

She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.

This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.

She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.

As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.

Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.

Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.

You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.

The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."

Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.

[sodaabaa]

birthday 

anthony bridgerton x wife!reader wife!reader is excited to celebrate her husband’s first birthday since they got married only to wake up and find anthony missing. she takes a trip to mayfair to ask the bridgerton family where anthony has disappeared to.

tw: grief, mentions of a parent's death.

a/n: hi everyone, wanted to take a second to just thank you for all the support. i started writing these just for fun and decided on an impulse to start posting my writings, not expecting them to get past even 15 likes! i really enjoyed writing this oneshot and navigating anthony's feelings in this one. let me know if you'd like to see a part 2 within this story line or similar stories within the bridgerton universe!

The first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, pulling Y/N from her sleep. She reached to the side, feeling the bed for her husband to find only the absence of his warmth. She sat up, it was unusual for Anthony to be gone so early in the morning. The two of them had a habit of starting their mornings together before he went off to tend to business, the vacant spot on the bed puzzled her – today was Anthony’s thirtieth birthday, the first one they would spend married. She already had a plan for the day; dotingly wake him up with kisses in all the spots he loved, take their breakfast in bed (a special one at that – she requested the cooks to make his favorite marmalade with the first plums of the season), pack a basket with light sandwiches and his favorite wine to picnic by a nearby lake, and end the night with his most favorite activity. Y/N pouted, upset that her plans had been foiled by his absence. She pushed the duvet off and dressed herself, wondering what possibly could have been important enough for him to leave without telling her. 

“Amelia,” she called out to one of the maids. Amelia had been working at Aubrey Hall for years, she knew the ins and outs of this place like the back of her hand, maybe she’d seen Anthony this morning? 

“Yes, my lady?”

“Did you happen to see the viscount this morning?”

“No, my lady. My apologies,” she paused, “though – you may want to check with the dowager viscountess.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Whatever for?” 

Amelia fiddled with the rag in her hands.

“Amelia, what is it?”

“Every year, on the viscount’s birthday he…disappears. He usually slips out before dawn when we’re all just getting started with the day. But we’ve never seen where he goes.” 

Y/N’s confusion only deepened. Amelia waited for Y/N to dismiss her – she did so, waving a hand and offering a gracious smile for the information she provided. Amelia exited with a curtsy, leaving Y/N with no choice but to pay the Bridgerton clan a visit. Perhaps they could give her some insight into her husband’s mysterious birthday habit.

She managed to reach Mayfair before the sun had peaked in the sky. The carriage approached Bridgerton House, Y/Npeered through to see if Anthony might be somewhere around. He was nowhere to be found, much to her dismay. She stood before the double doors of Bridgerton House, signaling to the footman to announce her arrival. In the blink of an eye, her favorite Bridgerton sibling came running to the door.

“Y/N! How lovely it is to see you!” Eloise exclaimed, pulling her in for a hug. She returned the hug, grateful for the way Eloise managed to instantly raise Y/N’s spirits. Violet followed Eloise, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N pulled away from Eloise’s tight embrace to greet Violet.

“Can’t seem to find Anthony, can you dearest?” Violet said when she pulled away from their hug.

“I see this is a regular occurrence then?” She replied, feeling left out – why had no one bothered to inform her of this habit of his? She would have saved herself from the disappointment of foiled plans. 

“Come in, you’ll catch a chill if you stand at the door any longer,” Violet ushered them upstairs. 

“Y/N!” Hyacinth and Gregory were the next to greet her as she walked into the drawing room.

She gave the two little Bridgertons a hug, commenting on how tall Gregory had gotten and the length of Hyacinth’s curly hair. The pair immediately began updating her on all the things they’d gotten up to while Y/N was gone – though they didn’t get far.

“Hyacinth, Gregory – please give Y/N a moment to rest from her trip. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about your mischief later,” Violet said. The inseparable duo pouted for a moment before taking a seat in their usual spot. Y/N herself took a between Violet and Eloise, turning to ask her more about her husband's whereabouts.

“Do you know where he goes off to? Surely his mother might know.” 

“I’m afraid I do not. I do, however, know the reason he disappears,” Violet looked over at her youngest children, ensuring they were engrossed in whatever they were doing before continuing. 

“Since Edmund died, there has not been a birthday where he does not run off like this. It started when he turned ten and nine. I know it has something to do with his father, I am certain, but I cannot figure out where he goes. The first year, I checked Edmund’s grave to no avail. I’ve searched and searched my mind for places that held significance to Edmund, to Anthony,” she explained, throwing her hands up with a defeated sigh.

Y/N took a moment to process Violet’s revelation, guilt slowly eating her up. She had been so involved with her ownplans for Anthony’s birthday and then felt so disappointed but all this time, he was taking time to grieve. Her heart shattered for her husband – her valiant, loving, sweetheart of a husband. 

“If I may,” Eloise cut in with the raise of a finger, “perhaps he simply despises the concept of birthdays and wishes to avoid all the commotion by hiding out in some pub somewhere?”

“Eloise!” Violet exclaimed.

“My, my, what do we have here? Viscountess Bridgerton has come to visit us!” Benedict interrupted the three women on the sofa, shooting a warm smile towards Y/N.

“Benedict, it’s lovely to see you,” she replied. She rose from her seat, giving Benedict a quick embrace before he took his seat across from them.

“Allow me to guess – Anthony’s disappeared?”

Y/N nodded, “I don’t suppose you happen to know where?”

Benedict clicked his tongue, “I’m afraid not.” 

She sighed, “Well, when does he usually return then?”

“The next day. And to make matters worse, he acts as if it were totally normal, avoiding all questions about his whereabouts until you simply surrender trying to figure it out,” Benedict said.

That night, Y/N retired to their bedroom though she had no intentions of sleep – how could she manage to when her husband was off God knows where, in what condition. It kept her up with worry, so she decided she’d stay up and wait for his return. Staring at the walls had become tortuous as the hours droned by, she wrapped herself in a robe and made her way toward Anthony’s study. Perhaps she could find something here to clue her into her husband's habit. She poured herself a glass of Anthony’s whiskey, choking down the bitter liquid, and sat back on his chair with a sigh.

She looked around the dimly lit room, a portrait of Anthony’s father hung up to the left of the desk. She wondered what he was like, Anthony rarely ever spoke of him. Her heart ached at the thought of her husband at eighteen, witnessing what he’d witnessed and resuming to take on the mantle that’d belonged to his father in the midst of such trauma. Her eyes scanned the painting – catching on a pocket watch in her late father-in-law’s hand. She stood, leaning in to get a closer look at the watch. Realization dawned on her. This was Anthony’s pocket watch – well, it had been his father’s but this was the same watch he carried with him everywhere. She had noticed early on his habit of checking the time almost obsessively. She always wondered why he had such a fascination with time. 

I could never surpass my father. He was a greater man than I. Anthony’s words echoed in her mind.

It all fell into place – clicking like a lock in her mind.

She ran back upstairs, rushing to wear something more appropriate. She quietly ran back downstairs, grabbing her cloak on the way out. The September days were cool and refreshing but the nights were cooler, which Y/N usually savored but the cold air only increased her adrenaline tonight, causing a chill to run down her spine.

She summoned a carriage, willing it to come faster as it approached her. 

“To the chapel, please.”

As the carriage moved closer to the chapel, she could make out the vague silhouette of a man sitting on a park bench facing the clock in the center. The moonlight illuminated the small square, the scene before her looked to be straight out of a painting. She stepped out of the carriage, rushing towards the silhouette.

She stood behind him for a moment, afraid to disrupt him – afraid of what his reaction might be. She knew her husband preferred to grieve alone but this was beyond grief; Anthony feared his birthdays, feared the clock running out of time. 

“Anthony?” 

The man in front of her startled, inhaling as he turned around. She sighed in relief.

“How did you find me here?” He said, motioning for her to sit with him.

She walked around the bench, placing a kiss on her husband’s forehead as she sat beside him.

“Your pocket watch.” 

He let out a breathy laugh, a humorless action. He held the watch, thumb circling its frame.

“You are not bound to time, Anthony,” she said gently.

He looked up at her, eyes red from the long day he must have had.

“Are we all not bound to time? Some simply have less.”

“You cannot know that for certain, dearest.”

“I know I am less of a man than my father was yet he merely had eight and thirty years,” his voice was hoarse.

“You are just as much of a man as he was. You’ve fought so hard for this family, do not belittle your efforts,” she took his face in her hands.

She wished she could show him how much of a man he truly was. He'd raised his siblings and taken on the burden of being a viscount to allow for his brothers to pursue their dreams. He ensured his sisters were well provided for and he dealt with his mother's grief for years -- all without complaint. Because of this, it was a privilege to call Anthony her husband, if only he could see himself how she saw him.

“You are not leaving me behind in a mere eight years, Anthony Bridgerton. I will fight death himself if that is to be the case.”

He chuckled, a hint of real joy behind his eyes as he did.

“I have no doubt you would give it a valiant effort, my love.” 

He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her lips.

“It’s late and cold, shall we head back to the house?” 

She nodded, grateful to return her husband to where he belonged – at her side, with his family surrounding them.

[girlleon]

SPACE BETWEEN

uncle!leon kennedy x fem!reader

warnings: uncle-niece incest, 18+. content below the cut, vomit (non-sexual capacity), age gap (early-mid 30s to late teens-early 20s). fingering, oral (f! receiving, piv, creampie… Leon’s kind of a simp and lame tbh. ddlg undertones, just a little. heaps of praise :3

i got inspired by uncle from nicole dollanganger tbh.

“I want to marry my Uncle Leon!” you said when you were seven, smiling up at him with two front teeth missing, chubby baby arms wrapped around his thigh.

Half-uncle, really, but that’s semantics. It’s like someone saying the sky is blue and another person saying it’s turquoise. They’re both right, one’s just really fucking annoying about it.

He also thought you’d say you wanted to marry your dad, because that’s pretty common with kids. Most girl’s dads or brothers are their first loves, so he was pleasantly surprised at the honor of being your chosen husband.

Unfortunately, you’re also seven, and that’s very illegal.

Your dad chuckles and doesn’t bother to try and peel you off. He tried that once and you went back to sticking to him like sweat, so he didn’t bother after that.

“Do you have a wife, Uncle Leon?” You ask him, smiling up at him so sweetly. You got those dimples from your mom, and he’ll never admit it, but they melt his heart just a little.

“No, sweetheart.” He reaches down and ruffles your hair. “I’m all yours for the taking.”

You beam up at him, even as he messes up your hair. “Good! ‘Cause you’re all mine!”

Your dad snorts, promptly looking innocent when Leon glares at him halfheartedly.

“That’s right.” Leon lugs you up into his arms, kissing your temple and giving you the faintest smile. “I’m all yours.”

He sees you a little less and less as the years wear on. He’s busy and you’re busy and grow from a sweet kid to a petulant preteen to an awkward teenager.

He’s still the first one you call, though, when you’re sixteen and drunk at a house party you shouldn’t be at. You’re swaying a little as he pulls up to the curb.

Leon leans over and opens the door for you—you toddle over and slam his door shut with a soft apology. “I didn’t wanna be there anymore.” You say, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” He reaches over and rubs your shoulder. “I’m glad that you called me instead of your dad.”

“Thanks.” You’re a little tacky with sweat and smell like a brewery and some sickly sweet floral perfume when you lean over to put your head on his shoulder. Baby’s first grown-up perfume instead of the body spray they sell at bath and body works. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m still glad it was me.” Leon reiterates, kissing the top of your head. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you home. Seatbelt on.”

You pull away reluctantly, buckling in your seatbelt with clumsy hands. “I know, I know. I got the riot act from my doctor when I got the physical done for the permit. Seatbelts yes, swerving no.” You grumble, pushing a sparkly hand through your hair.

He snorts, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. “Is that everything?”

“She said she’d pull my license if she caught me.” You reply, propping a temple on your fist. “‘Cause she’s a doctor and a mandatory performer—reporter. Mandatory reporter.”

Leon can’t help a quiet chuckle, even when you swat at him. “You got there in the end.”

The quiet roll of the car rocks you right to sleep, and he sneaks glances at you as he moves around pot holes and takes speed bumps slowly to avoid jostling you awake and fucking up his suspension. Cute, your nose still twitches like a bunny’s when you sleep. He thinks you got that from your mom too.

He gently wakes you up when he’s stopped in front of your house, reaching over and unbuckling your seatbelt before petting your head. “Gotta wake up, sweetheart, come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

You groan behind a closed mouth, face scrunching up. “No…”

He almost laughs. “Come on, I’ll help you up and out.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and jogs over to your side when he’s out of the car, opening the door and bodily carrying you out of the car.

The movement’s a little much and you gag, sweat breaking out on your skin.

Leon aims you away from himself just in time, rubbing your back as you puke loudly in your yard. He reaches over and holds your hair back with a grimace. “You’re alright. You’re okay. Just get it out.” He murmurs, rubbing your back once you stop retching.

When you straighten up, he wipes your mouth and his hand on his jeans. “You’ll feel a bit better in the morning.” Leon tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leading you to the front door. You fumble a little for your house keys, but get inside after he kisses your temple and wishes you a goodnight. “‘Night, Leon.”

“Night.” He repeats, gently shutting the door behind you. He goes back to his car and drives home, that sickly perfume smell lingering on the seats like you personally cropdusted them.

Vanilla, white florals, he thinks he smells coffee before it lapses into a sort of acrid smell. Otherwise, perfectly inoffensive on you, perfectly inoffensive to anyone with a working nose, to be honest.

He wishes you’d wear something a little more offensive, strong, something definitively you. Florals tend to be powdery and come off as something an old lady would wear, and that’s not very sexy at all, is it?

Cherry, he thinks would fit you perfectly well. Strawberries. Maybe they make apple perfumes.

When Christmas rolls around, he does exactly that, after skulking around Ulta and eventually asking for perfume recommendations from an associate.

Leon comes back with something strawberry, something jasmine and red berries. He splurged a little bit on a gingerbread perfume, but he doesn’t mind, might as well have something festive to give you.

When it comes time to get the gang together, he tosses it all in a pretty, sparkly bag with blue tissue paper and a tag with your name on it because he’s shit at wrapping gifts.

You cling to him a little tighter with the greeting hug he gives you. Maybe you’re still grateful he didn’t snitch about the party.

Either way, Leon returns the tight hug and gives you a pointed smile as he asks, “How’ve you been?”

You, to your credit, barely flinch, though he can see in your eyes you know exactly what he’s talking about. “Been good, glad to be out of school for the next two weeks. Merry Christmas.”

He clicks his tongue, then disengages and steers you over to the living room and sits right next to you after depositing his gift for you under the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas. Yeah, I bet. No more waking up at six in the morning for the bus at six-forty. Been staying out of trouble?” He gives you a sly look, head cocking just to the side.

Your eyes narrow at him playfully as you smile back despite yourself. “Yeah. I’ve been too busy with work to really get up to something bad.”

“Ah, that’s the way to keep it.” He slings an arm over the back of the couch, getting up after a moment to get himself a bit of eggnog, your mom’s recipe. “How much do you get?” He asks when he’s sitting down again, arm back over the couch.

And so it goes from there. You get the most of the spread of presents, being the kid and all.

Your mom and dad each got one another something and him some comfy clothes, he sorely needs them.

Whilst he was shopping for you, he ducked into some department store and got your parents some simple stuff. Soap, pajama sets and the like.

You look extremely surprised—and pleased? Leon’s heart might not take it if you hate the gifts—when you pull the perfumes out of the bag. “Whoa. How much did you spend?” You ask him immediately.

Leon scoffs, taking a sip of eggnog to hide a nervous shift. “It wasn’t much, they’re all samples.” The strawberries and cream one was like thirty-five bucks, so was the jasmine and red fruits one; he spent about fifty on the gingerbread one because he couldn’t find a smaller size than just an ounce. “Besides, I make the big bucks.”

Your mom sneaks a glance at Leon, then stealthily looks up the prices of the perfumes she can see, eyes going comically wide before she gives him a disapproving look. “Leon!”

“Yes?” He asks innocently, plastering on the most charming smile he has. Before she can start, Leon shakes his head, giving her a ‘don’t worry’ wave of his hand. “Come on, I make a hundred and twenty in a day.” More, actually, but still.

Your mom looks like she’s going to argue before your dad lays a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head with an amused look. “I’m putting a budget cap on the presents next time.” She decides after a moment.

Leon smirks, shooting you a wink. “Duly noted.” Then, he nods at you, manspreading because you’re on the floor. “What do you think?”

You pull off the caps of the perfumes and sniff them without spraying them, making faces with each sniff test. “Whoa.”

“Good?” God, he’s hoping you like them.

You nod, smelling the gingerbread one again. “Yeah. These are so cool.” Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “Thanks, I love them.”

Relief loosens his chest a little. Leon gives you a smile. “I was hoping so.”

He stays over for dinner and maybe a little afterward, just catching up with the rest of you guys.

All too soon, it comes time to say goodbye, they hope he comes again soon to terrorize everyone with his extravagant presents.

He spends the most time hugging you goodbye.

You graduate in the spring and he makes sure to actually dress up for this occasion. Someone only ever graduates five times in their life—kindergarten, fifth grade, eighth grade, high school, college.

Leon’s wearing a suit that had a little dust on it when he dug it out of the back of his closet, the collar and tie is a little tight around his neck and he keeps fidgeting until nudged by your dad because you’re walking across that stage.

God, it’s so weird to see you all grown up.

He was one of the few to hold you after you were born before you started fussing for your mom. He babysat you a few times so your parents could go have a date night. He was over at your fucking house almost every other day because your dad wanted to hang with his half-brother.

He’s getting really old. He’s starting to reminisce the way their dad did about high school friends and the like. For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty-five, not sixty-five.

You get a picture from the photographer, grinning from ear to ear. It’s well deserved, you fucking hated high school, he remembers the complaints. Then you go sit back in your spot and wait to flip your tassel.

Finally, all the fucking pomp and circumstance is over with. Here endeth the high school.

He and your parents find you a bit afterward, all of them drag you into giant hugs before they go to the car and treat you to dinner before you get all your graduation cash with a side of birthday treats.

He got you another perfume, a sultry cherry scent.

Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ in the manger in the fucking Inn. Mary and Joseph above him. Leon might as well just go caving if he’s going to hell, getting trapped underground would be so much easier.

Leon has to put on sunglasses when he sees you in that American flag bikini the summer after you graduate, flapping his blanket out on the sand and posting his flip flops on opposite corners.

It’s a little on the nose for the holiday, but he’s more than willing to stand for the flag. He’s much more partial to kneeling, but standing works too.

He strips off his shirt and begins slathering himself in sunscreen because he’s gonna turn into a lobster in less than fifteen minutes, he’s calling it.

Your dad bets ten. Your mom bets five.

Lucky you, you got the tanning without burning genes, also from your mom. You go right in without worrying about sunscreen.

He sits there after taking off his sunglasses and spending an extraordinary amount of time trying to reach his back. Like he wants to be peeling the next time he has to go fight some BOWs.

At some point, you resurface from the water after he resigns himself to a burned back, picking up your towel and laying it around your shoulders to cushion your wet hair. “Need some help? You’re cooking.” You point vaguely at his semi-red back.

Leon stares for a second before wordlessly handing you his sunscreen and shifting so his back is to you. This is a sure fire way to avoid tempting himself.

He hears you snort when the bottle makes a funny noise, then the weird sound of your wet hands rubbing together as you warm up the sunscreen before applying it in broad sweeps around his back.

“You and dad burn so easily.” You mutter, still rubbing in the sunscreen. Your long nails graze his skin on occasion and he fights the urge to stiffen up.

“You’re lucky,” Leon says after swallowing quietly, “you got the tanning from your mom. Certainly didn’t get it from your dad.” His hands bunch up his trunks.

You snort again, rubbing away the last of the white streaks across his back before leaning back on your hands. “Or you.”

Well, he only shares about twenty-five percent of your DNA, that’s why. He learned that after an alcohol-fueled dive—and no less than five orgasms—in the incognito tab. In some places, if both parties are over the age of consent, incest is totally legal. Some can even get married.

He shifts so he’s laying down on his blanket, a soft and amused snort catching your attention. “True.” He crosses his arms behind his head, soaking up the sun now that he’s in danger of not burning to a crisp and missing the way your eyes linger just a little too long.

Turning twenty-one is a big occasion. You can get scratch offs, buy your own drinks, smoke if you damn well want to.

You, lucky girl, get two parties. One with family, one with your friends who can also drink.

Leon comes for the former that takes place the day afterward. Your parents and him didn’t wanna cramp your hot, early twenties style.

You guys go out to your choice of restaurant, then come back and have some celebratory drinks as you open your presents. Some cash, shirts, a new backpack, and some perfume, courtesy of Leon.

He went digging for the really niche ones and came back with one that smells like cat fur, cake, a bit of florals because female perfumes can never fucking escape florals. It was named for the ballet step, pas de chat. Step of the cat. He thought he’d try something out of the box.

You seem to like it, the way your face breaks into a smile. “Thanks. This is nice.” You spritz a little on your wrist and smell it, lighting up just a little bit.

Leon smiles back too, a tad softer than his usual sly smile he wears. He’s been told he has a bit of a smug face. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” He nods, raising his glass to you briefly.

He’s invited to stay over as long as he likes, or even stay in the guest bedroom if he wanted to, he’s informed by your parents as they go upstairs to bed.

Which is why he’s ruminating as he stares a hole through his glass, pondering the beer and the bubbles in it.

Leaving him defenseless to you slipping into his lap.

It takes him a second, but he gets there, eyes wide as he looks up at you.

Your perfume floats over once you sling an arm around the back of his neck, something sweet and warm that makes him want to tuck his face into your neck, your eyes remarkably clear despite the three margaritas you had. “What are you doing?” He asks after a second of just staring at you.

You give him a sly look, head cocking to the side. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Getting into trouble.” Leon’s empty hand lands on your lower back as he leans forward, setting his glass of beer on the side table, his once occupied hand landing on your thigh where your shorts rode up.

That feline smile remains on your face. “I’m rather good at that.”

He snorts, slowly rubbing your thigh. “I noticed. You’re welcome for not snitching to your parents that one time.”

You snort too, bringing him closer with the arm around his neck. “Yeah, I owe you my life.”

Leon nudges your nose with his, starting to smile slightly too. “You joke, but your mother would’ve killed you.”

“I think she knew.” You admit, shifting a little closer on his lap.

Leon’s hand slowly travels up your inner thigh, your legs parting for him just a little. He pauses, eyes flicking back up to you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, swallowing nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

That’s that, then. He unbuttons your jean shorts one-handed, tugging down the zip gently, his grin widening when he sees the bit of lace visible on your waistband. “Planned this, did you?”

His eyes flick up to yours as he gently slides his hand between your underwear and shorts, gently cupping you through it, gratified when he sees you inhale sharply.

“Hoped, actually.” You admit near shamelessly, thighs spreading a little more.

“Well,” Leon can’t help feeling a little smug, slowly grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, “I hope you can be quiet.”

He dips his head down, nosing at your neck, down your collarbone and to your chest as his hand keeps slowly moving. He won’t be satisfied until there’s a wet spot.

The scent of your perfume grows a little stronger and his eyes flutter shut, his not busy hand pushing up your shirt at the back so he can rest his palm on your back.

He increases the pressure and you twitch a little, stiffening just a little. “Take this off.” Leon mumbles without lifting his head.

You tug off your shirt and he groans lowly, hiding his face back in your tits as he sucks and licks at the skin. He shifts his hand, gently dragging his fingers up before gently tapping your clit, then tucking his hand into your underwear, grinning fiendishly when there’s a puddle slicking you all the way up.

“Messy girl…” he can’t help taunting, biting down over your heart.

You whine just a little and he can literally feel all his blood rush south. It’s a surprise he didn’t faint, to be honest.

Gently, he pushes a finger in, cooing with a soft click of his tongue when you whimper. “Shh, shh, it’s ok.” He murmurs, pushing in all the way and waiting a little for you to get used to it as he messes with your clit so you stop clenching, chest heaving just a little. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl.”

Slowly, he begins pumping, making sure to graze your clit with his palm, getting himself all sticky. Maybe he’ll shake your dad’s hand with this one.

When you’re fucking yourself back, hips moving of their own accord, pretty mouth open, he adds another, curling them just until he feels that spongy spot and hitting it with precision. “There we go… that’s my girl.” Leon grins up at you, kissing your jaw as he fingers you open.

His hand is cramping just a little, but he’ll push through it for his girl.

“You’re doing so well.” He murmurs as he lays you on the couch, dragging down your bottoms as one hand slows down just a little. You whine and he clicks his tongue, pouting at you just a little before he kisses it off.

Once you’re naked, save for the bra—Leon likes the way tits look when they’re pushed out of the bra by a vigorous fucking—Leon whistles quietly, planting a kiss above your bellybutton piercing as he lays down between your open thighs. “So pretty, baby. So, so pretty.”

You have to slam a palm over your mouth when his own seals across your clit as his fingers keep moving inside you, speeding up just a little. He laughs, more vibration than sound, at least the way you feel it.

Watching you come for the first time will be seared into his mind forever. It started with the little things. Your chest was heaving, your thighs were starting to try and close around his head, your pussy starting to spasm.

Then, it happens. Your upper half snaps up, your eyes scrunching shut as you muffle what could’ve been a very incriminating noise if your hand wasn’t covering your mouth.

You sag back against the couch, chest heaving as Leon pumps his fingers and sucks you through it, leaning away and gently pulling his fingers from you when you start twitching.

“My poor baby.” He breathes, sucking his fingers clean before leaning up, hands bracketing the side of your head. “Good?”

You nod after a second. “Good.”

He gives you a soft smile, pushing some hair behind your ear. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m your girl?” You open your eyes, a little dopey smile across your face.

“‘Course, you’re my girl.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Always have been.”

Leon lives in fear of your parents finding out for at least a couple months. That’s what wakes him up in the night, not just memories from Raccoon City, Spain, Tall Oaks, et cetera.

God, he’d be hung by his toenails and skinned alive. Like when Warren killed Tara on Buffy, but a lot more drawn out because your dad would be in on it too.

You guys are at a vacation house the night you two first have sex.

It starts the same way him fingering you on the couch did. You slide into his lap long after everyone’s gone to sleep, he gets his fingers wet when you guys are in his room.

His room is a little further from your parents room than yours, hence the choice.

He lays you down and gets you off another time to hopefully make this painless, tangling a hand with yours. Only when you push at his head does he stop, grinning like a fat cat.

Leon doesn’t smile when he pushes in, watching you carefully for when he needs to stop and let you breathe.

Slowly, he’s seated balls deep inside you, hands on either side of your head. “Good, baby? Are you okay?” He pushes some of your hair back, relieved when you turn your head and kiss his palm.

“Good.” You reach a hand down and feel around, smiling slightly when he winces.

“Jesus, give me a moment. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Leon mutters, shifting a little so he can spread your legs a little more, hands dimpling the fat of your thigh.

You gasp quietly at the shift and nod, one hand over your tit, the same one he marked when he fingered you on the couch. “Leon…” you breathe, moving your legs to wrap around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He whispers, gently shifting before drawing back and thrusting in.

Your eyes scrunch shut as you let out a soft yelp. Quickly, Leon settles his palm over your mouth, shifting so his weight is on his opposite elbow. “Hush, sweetheart. Don’t want your parents busting in, huh?”

You shake your head, face settling into a blissful expression as he starts moving, little sounds punched from you from each firm roll of his hips.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles down at you, leaning down and licking up the sweat from your neck all the way up to your earlobe, kissing it and hiding his face in your neck. “My pretty baby girl.”

Leon lifts his head up, his face hovering by the side of yours as he grins. “I got you. I got my girl.”

Ah, the praise gets to you, just a little bit. He can tell because you get a little tighter and he has to fight so this doesn’t end too early.

He’s a gentleman, he refuses to come before you.

“Can you be quiet, baby? Wanna play the quiet game?” He chuckles when you nod, removing his hand so he can play with your clit and get you just that extra bit closer.

This close, he gets to watch you pause before your upper half snaps up again, your arms wrapping around Leon as you gasp into his shoulder.

It’s your orgasm that undoes him, his hips stuttering before he fills you up, collapsing on top of you as he gasps, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as his body to yours.

To mom and dad:

I’m really sorry if I worry you both. Leon and I know you wouldn’t approve, which, for obvious reasons, makes sense.

Trust me when I say we love each other. I’ll still be studying, it’s not like he wants me to drop out.

I love you guys so much. Please don’t be mad.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

maison*

warnings: smut, sleepy sex, creampie, cockwarming

summary: in which harry returns home after being away and just wants to be close to his wife

pairing: ceo harry x reader

a/n: maison is the french word for home

blog navigation | masterlist | taglist

~

yn stirs awake as she feels the bed dip beside her, jostling her body just a bit. her eyes are still closed despite her being mostly awake, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as she feels warmth hover over her before arms are being wrapped around her. she finally pops her eyes open when she can feel harry breathing against her face, something she absolutely hates.

“i’m sorry, honey. didn’t mean to wake you, just wanted to love on you a bit,” he apologizes, but she knows he can’t feel too bad as he begins peppering sweet kisses all over face and down to her neck. he smiles against her as she huffs halfheartedly, taking a glance around the room and seeing that the sun is out, but not too bright. she knows that his flight landed at 5am, so it should be around 6 now.

“‘s too early,” she groans, but she can’t stop herself from reaching up and playing with his hair a bit, following his head as his kisses get lower and lower the more feverish they become. she has a bad habit of falling asleep straight out the shower without putting clothes on, and for once harry doesn’t give her a lecture about if something happens while she’s sleeping; this time, he uses that to his advantage.

he hums against her skin before nipping at her bare shoulder. “never to early to love on my wife, missed you so much,” he mumbles. he’d been gone for an entire week in another state for a press conference, and they’d only been able to sneak in some brief calls in between speeches and before he heads to bed. all of the fancy dinners and boring conversations only made him miss her that much more.

she wraps her arms around him but ultimately loosens her grip when he goes lower, his kisses traveling to the dip between her breasts. her breathing is picking up now, her back arching up into him just a bit when he ghosts right over her nipple, but his lips move to the skin right around it. that pulls a whimper from her chest but he doesn’t pay any attention to it as he moves lower and lower, past her belly and her hips, until he’s eye level with her center but he doesn’t do anything.

“missed you too. please, do something,” she’s growing desperate now, the amount of teasing irritating her just a bit. he woke her up but is teasing her, it’s unfair.

“yeah? y’gonna let me make you feel good? gonna let your husband take care of you?” he rasps, feeling his cock twitch against the sheets. she only whines and nods in agreement, bucking her hips to meet his mouth.

“yes, i want that,” she gasps, feeling him gently nip at one of her dampening folds before spreading her open to get a good look at her clit. she shakes her head at that, though, tapping his shoulders to get his attention. “no, don’t want you to eat me out, need you inside,” she explains, and harry grunts in annoyance as he’d take any excuse to have his face between her thighs but he can never say no to her.

“y’such a brat,” he rasps, but his words hold no weight as he slips his boxers down his legs and kicks them somewhere at the foot of the bed. he begins to move up her body until he’s lying beside her. “roll over, gonna take you like that,” he instructs. she’s immediately turning over until they’re face to face and getting comfortable, and harry wastes no time in propping her leg up over his hip. angling his hips, he swipes the head of his clock through her folds, pulling a whine from deep inside her chest.

pressing his lips to hers, he lines himself up with her before inching in slowly, the both of their mouths falling open at the slight stretch. she feels so warm around him and he makes her feel so full. he gives her a moment to get accustomed to him before he’s holding onto her hip and pulling out just a bit and pushing back in m, even deeper. that single thrust sends her reeling, her hands flying to his shoulders for a bit of stability as he starts to fuck her.

“feel so fuckin’ good around me, ‘s unreal,” he gasps against her lips, pressing kisses to her open mouth. the moment the praise leaves his lips, the loudest moan he’s heard all night falling from hers. she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to, the way he’s filling her so deeply taking her breath away. the two fall into silence as harry keeps an eye on her to monitor how she’s reacting to him, save for the sounds of their moans and grunts with each meeting of their hips.

he knows she’s close when she gets this deep furrow in her brows and her leg twitches slightly against his hip, but he doesn’t even need to coax it from her any longer as she just tenses up against him and locks down on his cock with no further warning.

“that’s it, angel. i’ve got you,” he coos, holding her tight against him as she finally lets go, the evidence of her orgasm being the ring of arousal she leaves at the base of his cock when she does. his thrusts never falter as he works her through the entire thing. not until he can feel the beginning of his orgasm creeping up on him. “feel so good around me, gonna fill you up,” his words are choppy as his cock begins to twitch inside of her.

he can’t even provide her with anymore words as his orgasm takes over, a broken moan leaving his lips as his cum leaves his tip in warm spurts, her still fluttering hole milking him as he fills her. he continues gently rutting into her until he has no more left in him, slumping against the pillow when he’s finished. he doesn’t want to pull his softened cock from her but he knows the position will get unbearable after a while, so he makes the decision to move them.

holding her tight and rolling them over, harry maneuvers them until he’s on his back with her stop him, making sure he stays inside her the whole time. the angle change makes her whine in overstimulation but he’s shushing her with a kiss to the top of her head. “i know, ‘m sorry. just gonna stay like this now, i won’t move again,” he promises.

a chill runs through her body and she starts to shiver against him, causing him to frown slightly before reaching for the blanket to cover them with. once she’s warm, she’s out against his chest in mere minutes, her soft snores tickling the light hairs on his chest. he just takes a few moments to admire her, his eyes taking in every single one of her features as his eyes get heavier and his breaths begin to even out. the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the slumber is the little subconscious scrunch of her nose as she feels his breath on her face, and a small, lazy smile forms on his face as his head falls back onto the pillow.

~

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING REWARDING !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: good things come to those who wait.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, praise kink, soft dom-ish!lewis, somnophilia if you blink, mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving) and masturbation (f), p in v, sorry for the grammar

song rec: nasty - extended version by russ

note: the hottest thing a man can do is be lewis hamilton. winter semester just started for me today so enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

lewis hamilton was not a selfish man, and his partner knew that very well.

this morning, a morning that was meant to be filled with peace and tranquillity, was interrupted by an urgent matter at the mercedes amg factory. 

she cursed whoever it was that caused such a crisis as she devoured lewis’ thick cock at six in the morning. not only that, but lewis had worked her up as she stirred awake to the feeling of his hips grinding behind her. 

but she knew that lewis was not a selfish man who would leave it at that. the first thing that he did when he ended the call was toss his phone aside and laid her down, his mouth sucked on her clit and made her cum— or so he tried until another call came through. 

she was so close to calling toto wolff herself to tell him to fuck off and let her husband off the hook for a day. it had been weeks since the last time they had sex.

but lewis proved himself to be a selfless and considerate man, offering her an apologetic look as he pressed a kiss on her cheek and covered her naked body with the comforter.

“sorry, baby,” he murmured, pressing another kiss on her lips as he’d gotten dressed. “i'll be back soon. be patient for me, yeah?” 

“and what if i don’t want to?” she raised a brow, giving him a pout as she grew sexually frustrated. “what if i just murder bono m’self, hm?” 

“oh i know you’ll be patient, darling,” the gap between his teeth showed as he smiled, “you know what happens when good girls are patient, right? i’ll see you later sweetheart.” 

she nearly threw the pillow at the door as he walked out of the bedroom with a laugh. but she was a patient woman as much as he was a selfless man. so who was she to break that promise? 

lewis wasn’t selfish. by that, he meant that he’d please her in any way he could— whether she was fast asleep or not. but he would rather reward her and make her aware of it. 

he was ready to apologize to her for heading home late only to find the house dark and quiet.

it was already 10 in the evening, though, and he knew where she was as he headed upstairs to their bedroom. 

her soft breathing was melodic, indeed, as he stepped inside the room and headed straight to the washroom to change into pajamas. he was moving rather soundly, yet she remained fast asleep. 

and when lewis headed for his side of the bed, he laid next to her — only to find her wearing nothing but some pathetic excuse of a shirt and a… rather damp knickers. she was wet. 

she was wet and she didn’t even touch herself throughout the day. 

lewis smirked proudly, his tattooed hand snaking down her panties as she moved in her sleep. 

the mercedes driver wasn’t selfish, and so he proved this as his fingers teased her cunt. his cock was hardening at the thought of his eager and desperate wife who was nothing but compliant to be patient for him. 

he knew that she tried so hard to not touch herself throughout the day, and he kept her waiting. so who was he to deny her of what she wanted now? 

she shifted lightly, her hips moving back to subconsciously grind on him as she let out a low whimper.

lewis murmured, “baby, wake up.” 

“ngh- lewis,” she muttered, stirring awake as she moaned quietly at the feeling of his fingers adding pressure to her clit.

“hi, sweetheart,” lewis switched on the lamp and smiled at her sweetly, tilting her head and kissing her hard. his fingers continued to move in circular motion against her sensitive clit as she whimpered in his mouth. 

“ohhhh- fuck,” she cried out, “been very good f’you, lew.”

“yeah?” lewis asked huskily, his hand pulling away from her now glistening pussy as he tugged down on her tank top.

the cold air hit her chest as lewis’ mouth latched itself into her hardening nipple, earning a silent sigh from her as he massaged the tender skin with his tongue. he pulled away as he said, “you listened then? you didn’t touch yourself?” 

“i wanted to,” she whispered, “but i can’t. i missed you so much from your races but i can’t.” 

“hmm,” lewis hummed, his hand gliding down and guiding her legs to spread open while he kicked his boxers off. he stroked his cock for a little bit, precum leaking out of his cock as he guided himself and prodded his tip to her entrance. 

she tried to do it herself with all her power (still half-asleep after being awoken by him), but lewis immediately pulled her hand away from his length as he shushed her sweetly, “sh, it’s okay sweetheart. i’ll do it f’you.”

“you’ve been so good for me,” lewis murmured behind her as they both laid on their sides, inserting the tip inside her cunt as she moaned aloud at the feeling of his thickness. he could see her eyes rolling. he wasn’t even halfway through and she was already feeling extremely turned on and stimulated.

“look at you, you’re doing such a good job f’me. not touching yourself at all throughout the entire time i was gone?” lewis asked with a smirk, hearing her whine and plead.

“‘m so proud of you, baby,” he praised her, pushing himself inside of her.

she cried out at the fullness within her, holding onto his forearm as lewis filled her cunt with his girth and length. “fuck!” she exclaimed, now awakened as much as her sexual frustration was earlier today. 

lewis stilled inside her as he bottomed out, sighing in pleasure.

“oh fuck, baby,” he growled lowly, “i could fuckin’ cum just by staying like this inside you.” 

“but i can’t do that to you now, can i?” soon, lewis began thrusting hard and slowly inside of her. his hand continued to lift her leg up as he fucked her from behind. “can’t leave my girl without cumming more than me.” 

“mmm, fuck lewis,” she cursed out as she babbled incoherently. 

“how many times do you think you should cum tonight, doll?” he asked as he nipped at her ear, his thrusting and the constant friction of his cock against her sensitive spot earning a moan from her. “don’t be shy, baby. tell me how many-“

“fuck, god, i don’t know,” she cried, her brain melting at the feeling of him inside her. she was out of words already. 

“i don’t think those two words should even be in the same sentence,” lewis laughed.

“but it’s okay, baby,” he crooned quietly as he continued to fuck her relentlessly. “i’m gonna fuck you ‘til i know you’ve been rewarded enough. you’ve been such a good, good girl for me, hm?”

“gonna make sure you’re taken care of. like i know you should be. i can’t have my pretty girl be neglected for so long now.”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

[dumbkiri]

𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 2

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

@lionheart178

You both asked for it and I couldn't resist. If this is well received as much as the first part, part three will include Rhaenys v Aegon v Aemond

Apologies for any mistakes spelling wise and story wise. HOTD is confusing okay!

[Name] woke up at the beginning of dawn with a knock at the door. The knock only stirred him awake because he trained his body to wake at any sound, also because he stayed alert after what happened last night. He couldn’t allow another assassination to happen under his nose. 

He blinked his eyes open and looked around the bed. Somehow Daenerys and her dragons made their way in between him and Helaena, the little girl being embraced by her mother protectively. The man sighed at the peaceful sight and he took himself out of bed with smooth movements. He didn’t want to stir his family from their sleep, not yet anyways.

The person at the door had a great amount of patience, [Name] noted. So the list of names got shorter. It couldn’t be his twin, Aegon, or his younger brother Aemond. Both would have stormed in without a second thought. His mother had patience, but her anxiety would have made her knock on the door again. The other people on this list like the council members, he didn’t want to talk to at such an early time. 

Politics were boring. 

Even still, he slipped a loose shirt over his head and popped his arms into the sleeves. Then he walked over to the door, the sleep gone from his eyes and his lips ready to spew out a curse here and there at the person for wanting to have a conversation so early. 

His hand grabbed the handle of the door and he opened it up to reveal a disheveled Aegon. His twin brother looked like a terrible mess and [Name] swiftly brought him into the large room. Aegon didn’t need to be seen by the castle people. Lords and Ladies would be talking about him for days, maybe even weeks about how he looked. 

The curse words on his lips fell short when he caught a glimpse at his twin. [Name] led Aegon over to the couch and sat him down while he took a seat across from him. Aegon sniffled and looked over to the left where he saw bodies laying on the bed with relaxed breathing. 

“They’re making mother and Jeyne follow Jaehaerys on a cart,” Aegon said softly looking back at [Name], “they s..stitched his-”

“I know, brother,” [Name] responded with a defeated sigh. It was no secret what those ratcatchers did to Jaehaerys. The poor boy had no reason to go through that pain and suffering. “You can tell Otto not to go through with this. You can grieve in a healthy way, Aegon. Have you seen your queen at all?” 

Aegon looked down at the floor with his hands fumbling over with each other, “No.”

[Name] leaned back into the sofa and said, “You should go and see her.”

“She can’t see me like this!” He whispered, gesturing to his messy look. His red eyes puffy from all the crying he did. His breath smelled of wine too. 

“It’ll be good for her to see you like that,” [Name] replied, “because it shows Jeyne that you are a grieving father. She is a grieving mother, you think she looks pretty like a queen right now?”

Aegon processed his words and he wiped his nose with his sleeve. Then he asked, “How do you not look like me? How can Helaena sleep as if her son didn’t die?” The glare didn’t go unnoticed by [Name] and he leaned forward feeling animosity radiate off of Aegon’s body. If Aegon wanted to speak ill about him and his wife, he should have spoken to someone else. 

But he bit his tongue and relaxed, his twin just needed to understand. To learn how to grieve properly. 

“I don’t look like you because I leaned on my wife for support. Helaena could sleep knowing I was in bed with her along with our daughter. Listen to what I have to say Aegon, you need your wife and she needs you. Nothing is more important than her. You do your best to love your family and to protect them.”

The lilac eyed man clutched his knees and sneered, “I regret not being there for them. I regret taking Balerion on patrol when I should have been asleep already. But she lifted the weight of my shoulders and loved me. She understood my plight despite dealing with her own. A husband and a wife need a sturdy foundation to stand on. If the floor beneath her crumbles, I know I’ll be there to hold her hand. To repair that foundation with her. That’s what you and Jeyne need to do. Grieve together, love each other and repair the foundation.”

[Name] lowered his voice when he saw a small body rise up in her bed. The little girl looked around frantically and finally spotted her father sitting on the sofas across the room. Quickly she slid out of bed and her feet carried her over to her father. 

“Daenerys,” [Name]’s features softened and he opened his arms wide to capture his little girl in his arms, “why are you crying, little one?” 

Aegon watched how loving his twin was. He never admitted it out loud, but [Name] made high expectations in being a father. He didn’t drink every night, he trained his son every day, cared for their studies and even joined Daenerys in her embroidery classes. To which brought happiness to Helaena. 

“You weren’t in bed, I thought you left us,” Daenerys cried and hugged her father tightly. Meanwhile [Name]’s heart constricted with a little heartbreak. Left us, she said. Daenerys recognizes the danger without him, the consequences of an absent father. [Name] rubbed his hand up and down her back, bouncing the leg she sat on. 

“Everything is alright, Dany. I’m here, I’m here,” He repeated and pressed a kiss at the crown of her head. After a time, her sobs quieted down and she remained in his arms, not wanting to go anywhere else. 

Aegon with a small smile on his face said, “I forgot how close Dany was to you.” He spoke the truth. Daenerys very rarely left her father’s side besides when she had to go to classes. She often flew on Balerion with him and watched Rhaegar train in the fields. Daenerys admired her father a lot, no one could ruin his image. Not even the ratcatchers. 

“You hear that Dany,” [Name] peered down and nudged his forehead against hers, “Your uncle thinks you spend too much time with me.” 

Dany wiped her tears and said, “Not enough time, uncle. You always take Father away.” Her teasing glare made Aegon feign a surrender, his hands held up high. A chuckle left Aegon’s lips and [Name] came to another realization. Aegon didn’t need Jeyne to help him grieve. 

“Please forgive me, dragon warrior,” Aegon playfully responded, “but your father is an exceptional fighter. He protects this kingdom so well and always stands up for me.” 

Daenerys laughed and sat up wanting to play along with her uncle. The little girl wrapped her arms around [Name]’s neck and said, “But who will stand up for Father? Do you think you’re worthy enough to protect the Warrior of Light, the rider of Balerion?” 

Aegon subtly looked at his twin and [Name] mouthed, “She takes play pretend seriously, you’re in for it now.” 

To which, Aegon didn’t mind because this moment distracted him from the night before. His niece took away the pain, her demanding words and playful attitude brought him into a different world. Play pretend, [Name] called it. How often did his twin brother play like this with his children? 

[Name] knew exactly what Aegon was thinking and he spoke up, “Daenerys and Rhaegar are very creative and imaginative. She plays the role of a dragon warrior, defender of the realm while Rhaegar played as a priest, a man of truth and light.” 

Aegon smirked and before he could ask what was up with that, [Name] shook his head with a grin, “Don’t ask me why, Rhaegar was different in many ways. Anyways Helaena, chosen by Rhaegar, was the Queen and you could only imagine what they made me.” 

“Oh~” Aegon kept his smirk, “they made you a king?”

[Name] laughed and responded with mirth, “A bloody peasant in love with the widowed queen.” 

Aegon hollered and fell back into the cushions of the sofa. “Your kids hold you very high in opinion, but in their world they made you a peasant!” Aegon could not believe what he heard. 

“Yes, we all dress up for our game too,” [Name] laughed again, “my clothes are very itchy, I tell you.” 

The brothers laughed together, but [Name]’s died down a bit before Aegon’s. The older twin enjoyed seeing that smile on his brother’s face. Aegon needed him, [Name] told himself. Him and his family to cheer him up. But they were to leave, very soon. Guilt ate at him and he debated whether to tell Aegon of his plan, but his brother wouldn’t take it lightly. 

[Name] planned to move to the other side, taking Dreamfyre and Balerion with him. Taking Moonlight, Nightmare and Frostfang, his children’s dragons. That’s adding two dragon riders to the Blacks. Technically one because Helaena could never burn people. [Name] would have to make that point abundantly clear to the Blacks. 

“Aegon, there’s something I must tell you.” 

[Name] saw Aegon catch his breath, a faint smile still present on his face. 

“You are strong, brother,” [Name] kindly said, “Yes, others may think you’re only a drunk. But I’ve seen you in the throne room trying to help out your subjects. Only to have Otto strike you down. I’ve seen you try to take charge, only to have that fire stoked out by the council members.”

[Name] brought his lilac eyes to meet Aegon’s shining eyes, “Do what you must to keep your fire burning. Because once it’s out, who knows how long it’ll take to rekindle it. Don’t let Mother strike you down, don’t let Otto control you anymore and most of all, don’t let Aemond underestimate you. You are their King, not their pawn.” 

A spark ignited in Aegon’s chest. Little did [Name] know, his fire was already out. But his words ignited the hearth in his heart. And it burned with strength and passion. Then [Name] stood up, carrying a quiet Daenerys in his arms. 

Aegon followed quickly and shook his head, “You should have been King, [Name]. I don’t know why Father chose me when you were the perfect candidate.” 

Smoothly [Name] responded, “I never wanted it.” The confusion on Aegon’s face made [Name] continue, “The crown, the throne, it’s all a game. I don’t know how to play it and you don’t know either. But Otto does, he played it well too. Having his daughter court our father while he grieved for our half sister’s mother was a ploy to get one of us on the throne. To have someone he can control. Do you think you sit on the throne, brother?” 

Aegon blinked then casted his eyes onto the floor, “Not really. No one takes me seriously. The council meetings take place with my opinions never heard.”

“Which is why you announce your presence. Every member of the council is afraid of Aemond because he rides Vhagar. Everyone is afraid of me because I have Balerion. What can you do to make them afraid of you?” 

“I don’t know.” Aegon replied. 

[Name] shifted Daenerys to his other hip and said, “We all have something in common that people are afraid of. Dragons are dragons, beasts the normal folk cannot begin to understand. Not like us. So show them you’re a dragon rider and a king, make them afraid of you. You’re the rider of Sunfyre.”

Aegon cleared his throat and walked over to the door. He felt a shift in the room and he looked back at his brother. This moment, it felt too somber and Aegon had to tell him something too. 

“Brother, thank you for this.” 

[Name] nodded, “I always have your back, Aegon.”

After Aegon left, [Name] moved over to the bed and wasn’t surprised that Helaena woke up. Perhaps she had already risen long ago. 

“Hello, my sweet lady,” [Name] sang and placed Dany on the bed next to her mother. Then he leaned over and pressed a light kiss on Helaena’s lips. His hands held her face with love and he pressed into a little deeper. She returned his passion and asked in between his kiss, “Did you mean it when you said it to Aegon?” 

“Of course, I did,” [Name] pulled back and sat by her bedside, taking her hands into his own. He rubbed her knuckles and brought them up to his lips. He kissed her gently and put them back on her stomach. “Now we shall get ready for our journey before the rest of the castle wakes.” 

Helaena pushed herself upward and suddenly embraced her husband. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked down at his wife with questions. Nonetheless, he kept his mouth shut and embraced her back. She felt amazing with her chest pressed up against his. He could feel her heartbeat, hear the slow breaths her lungs took in. Without noticing, his hands dragged themselves lower holding onto her waist. 

He dipped his head down and his lips started leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. One hand held her back pressing her further into him while the other hand held her head. His fingers threading in her long hair and pulling the strands gently down, so she could look up at the ceiling. It gave him more access to her neck, to her breasts. 

He would have dived straight for them if she didn’t remind him who was watching. “This isn’t the place, [Name],” Helaena spoke timidly and he pulled back to see Dany covering her eyes with her small hands. He chuckled with an apology to his wife and daughter. 

“You’re very hard to resist, my love. Excuse my behavior.” He pressed a sweet kiss on her cheek and stood up, ignoring the beautiful look in her innocent eyes. 

Helaena smiled at his bashful look and pushed the throbbing in her core away. Yes, he was also very hard to resist. She’s surprised they didn’t have more children running around them. In due time, she told herself. 

……

They’ve been in the air for quite some time and the morning sun began to rise with soft yellows and pinks.  [Name] opted out on wearing his black armor while riding with his children, but kept Hellfire strapped to his waist. 

Viserys, given a medicine to help him sleep during the flight, drooled onto [Name]’s shoulder. The father didn’t mind and he looked down in front of him to see Daenerys holding onto the cages that kept the three tiny dragons there safely. Her long hair braided into two and she wore a light blue dress paired with her mother’s. 

[Name] looked to his left and watched Helaena fly quietly next to him. She was a good distance away from him because of Baelrion’s long wingspan. So he kept a careful eye on her from time to time as well as their surroundings. If the Blacks attacked them now, the fight would be devastating for his surrendering family. 

He came for answers and sanctuary. He didn’t want a fight. 

Finally Dragonstone came into view and [Name] commanded Balerion with a powerful voice to land on a beach near the Black’s base. Balerion roared into the sky to announce their presence, no doubt alarming the people in Dragonstone. The descent was a little too fast for Viserys and the tiny boy cried all the way down, alarming Helaena who followed after the Black Dread. 

When they touched, Balerion dug his claws into the sand and lowered his neck so the Targaryen family could climb down. [Name] being the first one off the giant dragon helped his daughter down. The small girl watched hopped into his arms, careful that the cage didn’t smack him. 

Helaena touched down fast next to Balerion and released the reins on Dreamfyre while [Name] moved the swaddle from his back to his front. 

He tried to ease Viserys and when he turned around to ask his wife for help, Helaena was already next to him. A worried mother is quick to help her babes, he’s always reminded. [Name] handed Viserys over to his wife with no hesitation and she soothed him with gentle caresses and hushed mumbles. 

Then a loud screech resounded in the sky and he looked up to see three dragon riders making their way to the beach. A golden dragon, a burning red one and a small one. [Name] knew these dragons and their riders, Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Jace. Luckily for him, Daemon wasn’t with them.

The three landed on the beach a safe distance away from Balerion who challenged them a little too quickly for [Name]’s liking. The black beast held his head high and covered [Name]’s family with a wing. Daenerys awed at the sight and Helaena looked at [Name] wearily. 

“Lykiri, Balerion,” [Name] walked forward with a hand raised at his defensive dragon, “lykiri.” 

Balerion quieted down, his throat bobbing up and down a few clicks and groans rumbling in his chest. His tail swished about on the sand and he lowered his head down to his rider, pressing his large head onto [Name]’s side making the man stumble on the sand. 

With a quick pet, [Name] ran his hand down the scales and rough skin of Balerion’s snout. His eyes dragged away from his beast to the three hesitant dragon riders across from him. He looked back at his family and Helaena gave him a nod of approval. This wasn’t a fight, [Name] reminded himself as he walked forward. Be respectful and pledge your support to Rhaenyra. 

Offer yourself and Balerion to her cause, he told himself again. 

When he walked up to a respectful distance for a conversation, [Name] greeted his estranged family, “Sister, cousin and nephew, I don’t mean to alarm you.”

Was that a good start? To let them know that he wanted no fight. He didn’t use their titles, not quite used to addressing them as so since he acknowledged his brother as the king and such. 

“If not to alarm us,then what do you want?” Jace questioned, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. 

[Name]’s own fingers itched to rest on Hellfire, but if he did that Balerion would take it as a sign to defend his rider and his family. So he kept his hands at his sides and responded with a calm tone, nothing like Jace’s hostile tone. 

“Originally I came here looking for answers-”

“With two dragons at our front door, one bigger than the rest of ours?” 

Rhaenrya and Rhaenys both snapped their heads over at Jace to silently tell him to keep his mouth shut. Both being mothers and both wanting to know the reason why [Name] was here. But if the lilac eyed man kept getting interrupted, then he wouldn’t get to the point. 

“Please, nephew, let me finish my sentence,” [Name] gritted his teeth, his patience running thin, “I came here looking for answers about my son’s death. They are pinning Jaehaerys’ death and Rhaegar’s on your shoulders. So did you or did you not give the order to murder our sons?”

He directed his question to his half-sister. 

“Sons?” Her voice faltered and she took a step forward, “Rhaegar was killed as well?” Rhaenrya looked behind [Name] and saw a visibly concerned Helaena with Daenerys and Viserys by her. But no Rhaegar. 

[Name] sadly nodded, his throat constricted closing the airways painfully. He cleared it away and said, “He died trying to protect his cousin. They slammed him up against the wall and strangled him. My boy didn’t stand a chance against a ratcatcher.” 

“I-I,” Rhaenyra’s eyes watered up, “I did not give the order, this was done without my knowledge by my husband.” 

Immediately a scoff left his lips and [Name] looked over at the water. He muttered with a disdainful look on his face, “Of course he did, I’m sure he did it to get revenge for you. Aegon is looking to do the same, but I am not. I blame my mother and her cunt of a guard, Cole.”

“What happened?” Rhaenys asked, trying to get the whole story. They received word that Jaehaerys was killed, but no mention of Rhaegar. Now [Name] put the blame on his own mother and her sworn protector, Criston Cole. 

“I went out to fly Balerion in the night while Helaena and Jeyne entertained the children in their rooms. One ratcatcher and a man of the Night’s Watch came in claiming ‘A son for a son’.  They cut Jaehaerys’ head off while another strangled Rhaegar. This happened because the knights were relieved from their watch on the order from their Lord Commander. While the boys were on their way to their deaths, Jeyne and Helaena took the remaining kids out of the room looking for help. But there was none. So Helaena went into our mother’s room.”

He took a deep breath in and balled up his hands, he looked back at Rhaenyra and finished off his explanation, “My son died because my mother wanted to get a good fuck in before she turned in her bed.”

Rhaenyra couldn’t believe it, but at the same time she did. Alicent always posed as this woman of faith. Cole posed as a man worthy of the white cloak, ordering people here and there like he was above them. But they were scum, trash beneath her feet. They disgusted her. 

“We are very sorry to hear about this, [Name],” Rhaenys spoke for the emotional Rhaenyra, “We would never order something like this, we want to avoid fighting as much as we can. We tried reaching out to your mother-” 

[Name] rubbed his chin and pulled his sword out, it didn’t ignite into flames, but it unnerved the three members of the Targaryen family. Their dragons, mainly Syrax and Meleys, roared at the action. In turn Balerion puffed out his chest and let out a louder roar than those two dragons combined. 

The sand hit his back and [Name] took a knee, surrendering his valyrian sword over to Rhaenyra. With his head bowed, [Name] spoke, “I don’t care what happens to my brother or mother. I only care about my remaining family. As a father it’s my responsibility to choose them. So here I am, pledging myself and my dragon to your cause. If you’ll have us, Queen Rhaenyra, I will put an end to the Hightower-Targaryens. I will answer your call and go to battle with Balerion. You do  not have a need for an army anymore when you have us.” 

The three Targaryens looked at each other very shocked to see a Green kneel before them. Pledging his support to Rhaenyra, she couldn’t believe the rider of the Black Dread was doing this. The Blacks have always been afraid of the green monstrosity Aemond rode even more so of Balerion. 

Yet the rider, [Name] Targaryen, had different views in this war. 

“I accept you and your family, brother.” Rhaenyra walked up to [Name], her dress fluttering in the light breeze. She could hear the small protest Jace let out of his mouth, but Rhaenyra knew [Name]. 

He was the only brother she didn’t feel threatened by. He always stated that he was happy father named her his heir, saying that he never wanted the crown and its burdens. Plus she saw the love for Helaena in his lilac eyes. He would never bring her harm. 

Rhaenyra kneeled down and picked up his head with her hands. The tears running down his face cemented the fact that [Name] needed her to accept him and his family. His hands dropped his sword and he hugged Rhaenyra tightly, holding onto her like a son does to his mother when looking for comfort. 

“She didn’t apologize to us,” [Name] growled out, “She had my son killed and she defended Cole instead of admitting to her faults.” 

Rhaenyra accepted his hug and said, “I don’t know why she did that.” His words carried in her stomach heavily, he truly did blame the death of Rhaegar on Alicent. It almost felt like he hated his mother. Rhaenyra pulled away from him and wiped his tears away with a frown on her face. 

“You would fight for me? Kill your brothers if the situation calls for it?” 

[Name]’s eyes hardened and he didn’t falter in saying, “I pledged my help Rhaenyra, I will answer any call and support the Blacks in the battles to come. I will support you.” 

Rhaenyra’s frown curved upward into a gracious smile, “Let’s get you and your family settled in some rooms. You can send Balerion and Dreamfyre to hunt after we land in Dragonstone. Then we can talk about your place in the council.”

“My place in the council?” [Name] asked and picked up his sword from the sand and followed after her to stand proudly. He sheathed Hellfire back into its holster and watched Rhaenyra. 

His sister nodded her head and said, “There’s a lot of old men on my council. They say they support me, but disagree with me on almost everything. They want to spill blood, but we don’t have capable dragons to do so.” 

[Name] agreed with her words, “Yes, that is true. Father always said your dragon was more of a spoiled mother than a warrior. Meaning no offense to you or Syrax.” He chuckled seeing the expression on Rhaenyra’s face. 

“Yes, well the ones capable of fighting are Meleys and Caraxes, but we need them for Vhagar or even Balerion.” She looked over at the Black Dread and his red eyes pierced her bright ones. “Now that you’re here, we could do a lot of defending our supporters and their homes. I will pair you with Rhaenys, you two could pose to be a formidable duo. One with speed and the other power.”

“Well we do pose a huge threat to Aegon’s claim to the throne, sister,” [Name] looked back at his wife and remembered something important. 

“But I will not allow Helaena to fly Dreamfyre. Both of them will remain in Dragonstone, safe from any battle.”

Rhaenyra understood his demand, but she had to know why. “Any particular reason why she cannot fly her dragon to battle?” 

“Have you ever seen Helaena hurt a creature, crawling or walking?” [Name] shot back feeling defensive for his wife. 

“Well no, I heard she likes to keep bugs and take care of them.” Rhaenyra responded with a small laugh. 

[Name] smiled back, “That she does, sadly we had to leave the ones she had in King’s Landing behind. My point is she cannot give the command to burn people, sister. Please don’t make her do it.” He begged. 

“Of course not,” Rhaenyra reassured him, “She will remain here with your children.”

“There’s something else I would like to ask of you,” [Name] stopped Rhaenyra and looked back at Balerion. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Rhaegar…he’s with us too. We would like him to be honored here at Dragonstone in Targaryen tradition.” 

“We shall set it all up for you, will Balerion be the one to ignite the pyre?” 

“No,” He stretched his hand out and Daenerys immediately ran over to her father. As his little one ran towards him, Rhaenyra spotted the two dragons; one perched on her shoulder and the other clinging to her hip. “Daenerys has bonded to two dragons, Moonlight and Nightmare; Rhaegar’s dragon. She will command them and we shall see if Nightmare truly bonded with her or just smells Rhaegar on her.” 

“An interesting child, you have,” Rhaenyra commented lightly. 

And [Name] would have it no other way. 

……

The Targaryen family stood behind the Hightower family respectfully watching Balerion with weary eyes along with their council members and guards. If [Name] wanted to he could turn his attention on them and have his beast burn them in black fire. 

But Rhaenyra reminded them of his oath to support her. After all, [Name] came to Dragonstone to honor his son and protect his remaining family. 

Daenerys stood at the side of the pyre holding back her tears. She watched Rhaegar being tackled by the ratcatcher, heard his last words then the clang of his dagger when it fell from his hand. She was going to miss his stupid jokes and his protective nature. She held her hands out, Moonlight perched into her right hand and Nightmare on her left hand. 

They looked at her as if they waited for her command. “Brother,” Dany spoke quietly, no one could hear her over the crashing waves below the cliff, “In our next life, I hope we live long enough to rule the skies together.” 

A moment passed then she gave out the infamous command, “Dracarys.” The two dragons looked away from her and aimed their snouts at the pyre. Slowly they opened up their mouths and breathed out a stream of orange fire. The twigs caught on fire first before the chain reaction began. 

The funeral rite went slow and [Name] walked up to Daenerys, letting go of Helaena’s hand. He pulled his daughter away from the small fire, so he could finish it off with Balerion’s black fire. He gave a subtle nod to everyone surrounding Rhaegar’s body and immediately they all backed up. 

“My love,” He spoke to Helaena and handed Daenerys’ hand over to hers. Helaena hugged a crying Dany who could no longer hold her tears. Then he walked a bit forward away from his mourning family, holding the pommel of his sword tightly.

“Balerion!” He shouted over the waves.

The black dragon shook his whole body responding to his rider’s call. The ground beneath his clawed talons broke under the pressure of his weight. 

“Dracarys!”

Balerion puffed out his chest, his wings spread out and his neck peered over the pyre in a grim image to the rest of the people. His large mouth opened up and all they saw was a dark pit, the fire blending in the dark of his mouth. With a resounding screech, Balerion breathed his black fire onto Rhaegar’s body. 

[Name] watched on in silence, hearing his wife and daughter cry out in anguish. They couldn’t express their sorrow the night of. But here, they let the water flow out of their eyes like a river. The crackling of the fire, the waves below and their cries felt unreal to him as he lost himself in his thoughts.

If he ever sees Criston Cole on the battlefield, he’ll snatch him from the ground. He’ll bring the oathbreaker into the skies, above the clouds and let him fall to his death. He wanted to instill fear into Cole. He wanted to burn Cole, he wanted to behead him. There were so many ways to kill a man. 

The black smoke reached the skies and he turned away from the pyre. He outstretched his arms and embraced his girls. Daenerys clung to his leg while Helaena wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Aegon may have gotten to the ratcatcher first, but Cole was his. This he will make sure of.

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

TWST with Amane Ubuyashiki reader

Amane Ubuyashiki is a supporting character in Demon Slayer. She is the wife and caretaker of Kagaya Ubuyashiki, and the mother of Hinaki, Nichika, Kiriya, Kuina, and Kanata Ubuyashiki. She helped her husband make plans on how to destroy Muzan Kibutsuji and aided him when Kagaya's physical state weakened.

• I'm just gonna rearrange their background for a bit. Their age here is when they're old enough to be chosen to marry Kagaya but was taken to the NRC first. Their age here is 17. I will also be changing their name from Ubuyashiki to Himorogi, which is Amane's maiden name.

• So basically, you already assumed that you were kidnapped by a demon and hid you inside a coffin to snack on later. You became puzzled when you felt the unfamiliar fabric of the ceremonial robe instead of your kimono. When you meet Grim, you didn't panic easily since he doesn't seem to be an Upper Moon. Grim was so dumbfounded when you calmly asked him why you should strip...

Grim: "Fnyagh?! Why are you awake?! W-whatever, just gimme your robe!"

Amane: "..."

Grim: "Hey! Did ya hear me?! I said, gimme your-"

Amane: "May I ask for what reason should I give you my clothing?"

Grim: "That's 'cause I'm The Great Grim! The sorcerer extraordinaire! So hand over your robe!"

Amane: "...And if I refuse?"

Grim: "Ya get burned by me!"

Amane: "...I apologize but no."

• Grim was getting irritated with how calm you are, almost as if you're treating him like a fly. Although... He couldn't help but sense the cautiousness of your tone. Him staring at your eyes felt like staring into the void yet there's beauty with your appearance.

• You walked passed him. He doesn't seem like a powerful demon. You have more important things to do... return to your home and marry the Ubuyashiki son. Grim, albeit a bit intimidated, could not stand you simply ignoring him. He pursued you, you ran.

• You avoided the demon wearing a crow mask while hiding from Grim. You explored the hallways until you memorized it's interior. You see a giant door and opened it to see... People on broomsticks?

• ....

• You don't understand.

• What is happening? Are they even human? How can they do that? And why are you in a building? As you thought of an answer for your questions for the sake of your sanity, Grim caught up to you...

Grim: "...*Pant*... Hey! You...*pant*... Ya think you can escape from my nose!"

Amane: "...."

Grim: "Fnyaagh... Hey! Enough with you ignoring me and face your-"

Amane: "Where exactly am I?"

Grim: "What? The heck are you asking me for? This is--"

???????: "Night Raven College, of course!"

Grim: "Fnyagh! What is up with randos cutting me off!?"

Crowley: "I am not just a rando, you beast! I am Dire Crowley, Headmaster of said college! And you, new student, have caused the orientation ceremony quite a problem. Come along now, we don't have all night."

Amane: "Pardon, but I am not a student here."

Crowley: "Did you wake up inside a coffin?"

Amane: "... Yes. Did you perhaps did-"

Crowley: "Then you are a new student! Also, please tame your familiar a little more."

Grim: "Hey, I ain't no--MMPH!"

Amane: "Hush."

• Grim didn't get to correct the headmaster for you placed a hand on his mouth to shut him up so you could silently observe Crowley while he's blabbering nonsense all the way to the Ceremony. You take in all the information you can get from Crowley as you near the Hall of Mirrors. The magic part is what you didn't understand. Does he mean Blood Demon Art?

Crowley: "Perhaps the teleportation magic made you forget? Allow me to help you remember. You are a new student in this prestigious academy filled with young mages who have the chance to hone their magical skills even furthur! This academy is founded by the Great Seven themselves! Isn't that quite an honor?"

Amane: "....I see."

• His explanations don't help at the slightest. He didn't tell you the reason why you are wearing a robe, why you came here in the first place, or why he assumed this floating tanuki is your familiar.

• You finally reached a room with muffled voices. The headmaster swung the doors open and revealed a crowd dressed in same robes you are wearing. He instructed you to approach the mirror... But you refused.

Crowley: "Now then, I must have hold of your familiar while you face the Dark Mirror. Go on."

Amane: "...Excuse me, but I musn't."

Crowley: "The ceremony is nearing its end! It's a simple process, just go to the mirror and say your name!"

• Crowley shoved you in front of the mirror and a face appeared in the glass. You have a staredown with the mirror before you say your name.

Amane: "...Hinaki Nichika..."

Dark Mirror: "Hinaki Nichika... Thy soul is..."

• Honestly, you are not that foolish to give them your real name. You decided to go with a fake one instead. You are not letting these demons take control.

Dark Mirror: ".... I do not know."

Crowley: "WHAT?!"

[allur1ngs]

imagine team bebe walking into bada being scolded by reader and how bada turns into a puppy whenever reader takes charge 😭

bada when reader is mad at her: 🥺🐶 she's so, "my wife is mad at me i hope i die" coded

"bada lee." you say firmly, arms crossed over your chest.

sitting in her office chair, bada freezes, her eyes growing wide and her mouth closing as she mentally curses herself. she knows that tone. that stern way you say her full name, indicating she's done something wrong.

mentally, she runs through everything she's done today, wondering what she did to offend you so much

"did i wake up without giving her a good morning and i love you kiss?" bada thinks. but no, she explicitly remembers that although she'd woken up earlier than you, she'd stayed in bed for hours until you woke up so she could place a kiss on your cheek and say, "i love you" before she went to her office to work.

she touches the side of her face, checking to see if she wore her glasses--her fingers meet the cold, sleek black frames--because if she didn't that would be another mistake. but she's wearing her glasses--

"fuck what day is it?" bada thinks, scrambling to check the calendar she has propped up on her desk to make sure today isn't your anniversary or another important date--

but it isn't.

and she'd taken a break about an hour ago, meaning you weren't mad at her for that...so what could it be?

"yes, baby?" bada says, trying to give you a smile but her lips slightly twitch with anxiety.

"do you know what time it is?" you ask, tapping your foot against the marble floor.

bada rolls up her suit jacket, checking her cartier watch for the time. "five in the afternoon?" she gulps.

"and tell me, how many times have you eaten?" you quirk up an eyebrow accusingly.

oh...

bada closes her eyes and takes in a sharp breath. so that's what it was. she hadn't eaten breakfast, much too wrapped up in her work to eat, and too excited to speak to you during her break to ask for breakfast.

"i haven't eaten..." bada says quietly, opening her eyes to glance at you and see your disapproving expression.

while you and bada speak, the bebe girls are turning around the corner, talking about their latest mission passionately.

"and when i shot him--" lusher's sentence gets cut off.

"that's what i thought." your stern tone grabs the girl's attention, making them huddle around the half-opened door to bada's office instantly--their nosey nature shining through.

"honey, i'm sorry--" bada tries to apologize, looking like a kicked puppy.

behind the door, the girls snicker with each other, large smiles on their lips.

"did you hear that?" tatter whispers, nudging lusher.

lusher nods, trying to hold back her laughter. "honey, i'm sorry~" she mimics your wife's ashamed tone. "bada is so whipped--"

"and unnie is very scary when she's mad." minah points out, staring at your confident and strong posture.

back in the office, you hold your hand up to stop bada from speaking any further. "don't apologize to me."

"sorry--" bada says instinctively before stopping herself.

"no more work." you state. "you're done for today, and i want you to eat. now."

bada looks down at the pile of paperwork on her desk, then back at your expectant expression. "okay." she stands up without another second of hesitation, and instantly makes her way to your side like a magnet. she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head into the crook of your neck, hoping to soothe your anger. "i really am sorry." she mumbles into your skin. "i didn't notice how late it was."

you sigh, your firm composure breaking at your wife's sincere apology. "it's okay, you just worry me sometimes."

"sorry baby." bada places sweet kisses to the column of your neck. "since i'm not going to be working for the rest of the day...can we cuddle?" she asks, tone hopeful.

"we can cuddle all you want after you eat." you promise.

from outside the office, the girls give each other faux disgusted looks.

"when did bada become such a softie?" cheche murmurs.

"the minute she met unnie it was game over." lusher snickers. "we should be glad, unnie is the only one that can speak to bada like that without receiving a death glare and being threatened."

"the miracles of love." soweon sighs wistfully.

"more like the miracles of unnie." tatter jokes.