#(i think that’s why if i ever do get to give birth i want like hospital attached birth centre?
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hello santa neiptune for your holiday servings i think christmas pudding with either shoyo + a prompt 6 (family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party) or sunsrin with prompt 19 ("I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible") or atsumu with prompt 13 (neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive) smooch smooch smooch smooch
rintaro suna x I'm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible
“Shut up everyone, it’s time!”, Atsumu’s comically authoritarian tone swallows the chatter, the living room of his apartment growing silent.
“Why can’t we pick who we want to get a gift for?”, Aran grumbles from his end of the couch. The setter frowns.
“Because I think none of you assholes would pick me”.
“Whatever gave that away”, Suna clicks his tongue. A soft, empty stocking collides with his face.
“Yer picking first!”, Atsumu holds the old dunkin donuts box under his nose, shaking it slightly to further shuffle the folded pieces of paper in it.
“I’m going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible”, Rintaro, ever the grinch, grumbles as slender fingers randomly draw a name.
“Rin, you’re supposed to look at it later!”, you lightly elbow him in the ribs but he pulls back, avoiding the jab. The only sign of something flashing across his deadpan features is a slight twitch of the brow as he reads the name he pulled out. Then it’s gone, small piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of his sweatpants.
“Your turn”, Atsumu brings the box to you with a grin. You know he hopes you draw his name, you’re notoriously the best gift giver of the group and he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the Blue Lock themed calendar Osamu got him the previous year, especially with that insufferable Rin dude occupying the page dedicated to his birth month.
“I hope it’s me”, Osamu crosses his fingers from the other side of the room, where he’s resting his back against the fireplace. You chuckle, keep the small piece of paper in your closed fist as you patiently wait for everyone else to draw their names.
The boys make a whole spectacle out of unfolding the pieces of paper, Atsumu the most teased one between whistles, oohs and ahhs. You make sure not to let the small pang of disappointment shine through your smile: you’re happy it’s Kita, you love Kita. You just would’ve loved for it to be Rin more.
The designated gift exchange day is a week later, right on christmas eve. The anxiety churning in your stomach is suffocating because why would you even get something for him too? All you had to do was pick a nice gift for Shinsuke, the easiest person to please on planet earth. But now there are two extra nicely wrapped presents under the tree in your living room, one of them will make you look like a complete dumbass because there won’t be any logical explanation to justify an additional gift. Atsumu will never shut up about it, like, ever. Fuck.
You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when the doorbell rings, the sound making you jump. Confusion is still written all over your features when you open the door, not expecting any guest or delivery.
“Hey”, Rintaro tosses you a tiny smile to balance the hesitancy out.
“Rin”, surprised, you blink a few times, “you okay?”.
“Yeah. Can I come in?”.
“Of course!”.
He takes off his shoes and slowly steps into your apartment, cheeks unusually flushed courtesy of the cold outside.
“What’s that?”, you curiously peek at the bag he holds in his hand while he walks to your couch and you gingerly trail behind him.
“I’m your secret santa”, he clears his throat, “didn’t wanna give this to you in front of everyone. Don’t make it weird”.
You sit next to him with mirth swarming in stupidly bright eyes. Suna feels his palms getting clammy.
“So you wanted to give me the worst gift humanly possible… early?”.
“Exactly. Here”, he hands you the small paper bag, “you’re welcome”.
“You’re a dick”, you giggle, unable to disguise the affection in your voice.
Inside the bag there are two numbered envelopes. You open the first, smaller one.
“What the…?”, it’s a regular yellow post-it, with a handwritten note.
Congratulations on your hardly earned free time. Make the most of it :)
“Check the other one”, Suna indicates the remaining envelope.
“I’m confused”.
The second gift is… handmade coupons for messy, scribbled options: concert, one meal, roadtrip, win an argument, breakfast.
“You get two coupons. I kinda already have tickets for your favorite band”.
“But”, your throat feels dry, “I don’t… I have to work?”.
“You don’t. I emailed your boss, got you some time off, something you never would’ve done for yourself”, Suna looks away, inscrutable as always. Your heart slams harder against your ribcage.
“Rin”.
He meets your gaze and you offer a smile.
“I got you something too”.
thank you for trusting my writing, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah
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Sleeping around thinking that T means the chances of pregnancy are next to zero.
Over the course of a week, over 20 different guys dump a load in you.
And each week that passes your brain has to try harder and harder to ignore the fact your belly went from flat to bloated and now is slowly getting bigger and bigger.
Sucking in, big jumpers, using a belt or even a corset to keep it flat, and it works…
But all it does is hide it, and deny to you and everyone what’s happening inside there…
But that’s a problem for future you, now it’s time to enjoy yourself in the club…
I feel it kick for the first time when another random from the club is pounding away at me. If he thought it was weird that I’m wearing a corset under a sweater and refuse to take both off during sex, insisting that he fuck me doggy style in this club bathroom stall, then he doesn’t let on. He’s drunk. I’m painfully sober.
It’s not that I don’t want to drink. It’s that the smell of alcohol makes me nauseous, now. I don’t like to think about why.
He cums, inside, and I don’t even have to ask him to leave. He slaps my ass as a farewell, and leaves the stall. I hear him leave the bathroom all together, and I’m alone again. I’m frozen, trying to tell myself what I felt wasn’t really a—
I feel another kick. I stand upright with a start, cum dripping down my legs. I stare down at my sweater, as my shaky hands lift it to reveal my straining corset.
Don’t.
You won’t like what you see.
Just go back out where the music is.
Don’t take it off.
I feverishly start untying the corset strings, feeling myself bulge more and more with each one that comes free.
Don’t!
I rip it off, all the way.
My belly surges forward almost comically, sort of flopping outward. I gasp out loud at how big it is—I’ve been getting dressed in the dark (both early in the morning, and late at night) ever since I noticed the distinct, firm, round swell. Keeping my hands away from it. Ignoring how much harder tying the corset is, throwing aside any pants that don’t zip anymore regardless. I hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad.
But deep down, I have a rough estimate of how many months it’s been. It feels like time has gone too fast.
There’s a feeling that’s less of a kick and more of a dragging feeling. Like a limb. Inside. I whimper out loud, stumbling back to try to escape it. But the belly comes with me. It’s grotesque—if I concentrate hard enough, I swear I can hear a heartbeat coming from it. pulsing. growing bigger.
I have to admit that I’m pregnant—really pregnant, giving birth in two or three or four months pregnant, middle-of-the-road-unable-to-terminate pregnant, going to get huge and obvious and then physically have a baby pregnant—and I don’t know who put it in me. Any one of the people I fucked over the past four or five or six months could have done it. If I went to the doctor, I’d probably be able to narrow it down. But going to the doctor is admitting that there’s a baby in there. Going to the doctor means acknowledging that it’s going to be born, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Tears burn at my eyes. My hands shakily hover over the round, bulging mass. I almost touch it, like all the happy pregnant people in advertisements do. I almost accept that I’m going to be a Daddy soon. And by the flutters of activity that keep just barely shifting the visible surface, it might be sooner than I thought.
But maybe not tonight. I close the corset tight, shoving it back in. Pulling my sweater over it. Out of side, out of mind. I have another round of fucking in me, even though the corset has me out of breath, and something in there is squirming.
#tmpreg#mpreg#mpreg kink#pregnancy k1nk#dark preg#hidden pregnancy#pregnancy denial#belly movement#mpreg belly#belly torture
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Sarah Sisko’s whole deal is so horrifying and messed up and DS9 just kinda. Glosses over it
#Imagine you are just a random Australian woman on Earth. Living your life minding your business#and then you get possessed by an alien force who have a Destiny they need to enact#And so controls you to go to New Orleans and hook up with a guy you’ve never met and you marry him and live with him for three years#And give birth to a son#And evidently that was what the alien wanted because once you have had a son the alien possession vacates your body#And you are in control of yourself again for the first time in three years#Married to a guy you didn’t seek out with a son you didn’t have a choice in#And the man is sweet and kind and in live with you! And thought you lived him! But you can’t bear it#So you leave him and leave the kid and hightail it back to Australia because what else can you do??#And eventually commit suicide because you can’t handle this. Your life was upended in an impossible horrifying way for three years#You disappeared from your life with no warning for three years and then showed up again to people who think you just left#It’s the Star Trek universe—‘I was mind controlled by an alien force’ is well known#But that’s not supposed to happen to you. You aren’t a starfleet adventurer you live on Earth. Why You?#I feel like. Sarah your life was so horrifying/tragic and it wasn’t even about you#And even DS9 just brings this up practically in passing and then never dwells on it ever#perpetual perpetual ladies night#Star Trek#Deep Space 9#ST:DS9
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me: why does my brain feel unglued
My underwear when I take my bathroom break: 🟥🟥🟥
#cipher talk#Anyway. Has anyone ever had a sore scratchy throat as a pre menstrual symptom#Because that might explain something#Something I am thinking about now again because of my unwilling absence from T is that oh yeah I actually don't hate menstruation#As much as I'm expected to#The symptoms can be frustrating but it doesn't actually make me dysphoric- I just said that to my Dr to get him to give me my boy juice#I remember blocking a major cis Jewish blogger on here once because I found her additions to a post I made talking about gender and mikvehs#Very annoying#I am not really bothered by being a man- or at least a not-woman- who menstruates even though I frankly really wish I had a dick#And on some level I like to commemorate it when it happens. Because it's important to me.#That there are men who do not fit the 'correct' shape of a man. That I don't want to simply pass and politely regard my birth as a mistake#It's also why I find medieval discussions of cis men being referred to as menstruating interesting#It's a very weird space to be in because I do have bottom dysphoria; it's just completely independent of wether or not I bleed
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I’m discussing an abuse thing under the read more.
My own experience of having chains around my wrists is that although I have no actually external abrasion scars I do definitely have pain in my wrists/hands that I’m pretty sure is from that so I’m giving it to Pippa because we were the same age when that happened.
#i didn’t ask for this cptsd and no tshirt was offered#i have no idea if this is actually a thing that happens but I am going with what I feel it comes from#also catch me attempting to explain this to a doctor by which I mean I Fucking Cannot#(can I just send a doctor friend as my representative to appointments or something?#tbh the accomodation that would help me the most is virtual appointments for basically everything#it turns out i dissociate really badly in medical settings#(i think that’s why if i ever do get to give birth i want like hospital attached birth centre?
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I really do miss back when it was considered fucking weird to ask trans people(or anyone who is even a little gnc/has a label you don't understand/is giving you queer vibes)* what their assigned sex at birth is. Like we literally used to roast cis people for this shit, that's legit why the "what's in your pants" meme exists, but somehow we've reached a point where a very vocal portion of the online trans community genuinely thinks you owe people this information so they can make insane generalizations about you and your life and if you refuse that's cause for suspicion and I really shouldn't have to explain how fucked that is.
Interrogating people about what's in their pants is transphobe/terf/transmed shit. "If you have nothing to hide you have nothing to fear" is fed shit. Tbh "you owe me personal information about your body and medical history" is ableist and intersexist shit. Sex and/or gender tells you literally nothing concrete about a person and there is no world where you are owed this information. Can we cut this shit out and go back to judging people by their words and actions instead of what some random doctor decided their body looks like when they were a squishy baby, you know, like normal people? Please??
*It's also wildly intersexist but unfortunately I don't think we've ever reached a point of collectively accepting that it's horrid to ask intersex people unprompted questions about their bodies and medical histories. You are absolutely not owed any of that information for any reason, especially given that medical history typically goes hand in hand with profound trauma due to how normalized medical abuse against intersex people is, and everyone needs to get that through their heads yesterday. If they want to share they can and will, aside from that it's none-ya.
#I genuinely do not trust a single person who says you have to reveal extremely personal information about yourself for any reason#it reeks of bigotry and authoritarianism and I'm sick of it#queer commentary#trans commentary#trans discourse#intersexism#transmisogny#transandrophobia#exorsexism
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Just re-watched the prison Reid arc and whew! Can I request post prison Reid getting to meet his new baby for the first time with a civilian reader? Like he was arrested while reader was still pregnant and she gave birth right before he got out? Maybe have a Diana cameo cause I just love her🤭
ty for requesting! fem, 1.6k
“Do you want me to take him?”
You give Diane a grateful smile. “Is that okay?”
Diane is reedy like Spencer, tall and skinny, but strong, too. She treads the carpet in her moccasins and holds out her arms for the baby, shushing him softly as you pass him over. You’ve had to look after her these last few weeks in a way you weren’t prepared for, but she’s looked after you in turn.
She’s almost completely lucid today. The good news has its hooks in her.
You look out of the window again. The baby coughs in Diane’s arms, a clearing sound after feeding. If she’s gentle with him he’ll fall asleep before Spencer gets home. You aren’t sure what to do, let him sleep or wake him. What would Spencer want?
I want to come home, he’d said, choked up over the phone, so badly. I’m so sorry.
“Are you sure you won’t call him Walter?” Diane asks. “Spencer likes that one.”
“I’m sure, Diane. He liked Jasper, so…” You bite the tip of your tongue until it aches, refusing to cry again. “So I went with Jasper. I hope he doesn’t mind.”
That morning when Emily told you he was coming home, you cried like you’ve never, ever cried. So hard that Jasper woke up in his cot across the room and cried with you.
You’d cried a lot after Spencer was arrested, and worse when he was imprisoned. You cried like a baby the day you went into labour because you knew you’d have to do it alone, when Spencer promised he’d be there with you, that you wouldn’t have to do any of the scary parts alone.
It didn’t take long to stop. You’d grabbed Jasper with your cheeks soaked in tears and rubbed his back, that small stretch of warmth under your hand like a lifeline. In a way, Jasper being Spencer’s has made this easier. You’ve had a part of him. It just wasn’t enough to get over missing him. Every bit of joy —you have a baby now, your beautiful boy— has been swiftly followed with an aching sort of grief. Spencer missed his first cry, first bath, the very first time he opened his eyes. You can’t go back.
“They said three.”
Diane doesn’t seem concerned. She’s missed Spencer as much as you have, and you know her worry for him has made her more poorly than she’d otherwise be most days, but the baby helps. “I’m gonna find his bear,” she says.
You bend down, trying to see the corner of the street through the window. Then you remember the last time you left Diane alone in the kitchen and flinch. “Hey, Diane?” you call.
She’s checking the drawers for the bear. You’re not sure why she thinks the bear would be there, but perhaps that’s where she put it. “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?” you ask her.
“You’re spying on me.”
“Spying implies you don’t know what I’m doing.”
She pats the baby’s back. “I can see why you and Spencer get along.”
It’s a little more than getting along.
Diane finds Jasper’s bear atop the bread bin, sitting at the kitchen table with him, the bear sat across from him, though Jasper’s already sleeping again.
You put the stovetop kettle on to boil and realise with a start that you can make Spencer a cup of tea at the same time. Your smile is unfailing, then. He really is coming home. The kettle begins whining while you recover his favourite mug from the cabinet, untouched the entire time he was gone.
“How many sugars today, Diane?” you ask.
“Was that the door?”
“What?” You’re putting the mug down before you can compute.
“Angel?”
You feel a rush of emotion all over at the sound of his voice. You try to call back to him, but you don’t manage anything more than a catching gasp as you push out of the kitchen and find him at the door. Right there at the end of the hall.
Pale, tall. Arms already opening, half a step as you run at him. He doesn’t complain when your chest knocks against his. He doesn’t say anything at all.
“Hi,” you breathe, pressing your nose to his shoulder. Your eyes stay open —it’s like panic without the fear. He’s really here in your arms.
He squeezes you tightly. So tight you can’t breathe for a second. Then he gentles, his hands rubbing up and down your back out of sync, face falling into yours.
In the kitchen, Jasper makes a croaky crying sound, a stirring Diane calms immediately.
You attempt to pull away. Spencer will want to see Jasper, of course. He hadn’t met his own son. It was all he could talk about for weeks before he went away, and yet—
Spencer just rubs your back. After another half a minute like that, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You clear your throat.
“Yeah? No one would tell me anything specific, I was worried you might not be alright.”
“Everything went fine.” He holds you to his chest. He smells like cheap soap. “I didn’t– it was really okay. He was easy, like he knew I couldn’t handle any complications.”
“And he–?”
You recognise the undercurrent in his voice. It’s the same thing you felt when they put Jasper on your chest for the first time. “He’s perfect.”
“All ten fingers?”
You pull away. Immediately, Spencer’s taking your face into two hands, his eyes pouring into yours with an intensity that worries you. “He has all his fingers and toes,” you say quietly, “how about you? How’s your leg?”
He doesn’t seem to be able to answer. Jasper makes another noise and Diane’s chair creaks. You turn with Spencer’s hand on your side, watching as Diane brings Jasper to the door.
“Spencer,” Diane says, like she just saw him yesterday, “you’re late.”
“Sorry, mom.”
He always sounds younger when he talks to her.
“Will you take the baby? I was just making some tea,” she says.
Spencer nods but doesn’t move.
“I’ll take him.” You kiss Spencer on the cheek. Remember you haven’t for weeks and kiss him again. “It’s okay.”
You hold your arms out and take Jasper against your chest. Spencer takes a hesitant step forward, stops, hesitating, but when you turn to him with a comforting smile the band holding him back snaps. He crosses the room, breath pulled like he’d stopped as he cranes his head to see his baby.
“Three weeks old today,” you say softly, tipping Jasper back so Spencer can see his face. “He missed his daddy, you know.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Of course I can. I’m his mom, Spencer… And who wouldn’t miss you?”
Spencer shakes his head gently, reaching out to caress Jasper’s full cheek.
“Jasper,” Spencer says.
“He’s been a great baby so far. Doesn’t give me much trouble. He cries all night, of course… but all babies do. He goes down after a while. I’ve–” You swallow the heat of missing Spencer like a barb dragging against the inside of your throat. “Told him you’re coming home. I told him every day, I promise.”
“M’sorry,” he says, pained.
“I know, Spence.” You nudge him. “Time to hold him, honey.”
He’s more eager than you thought. It’s almost like he’s worried you won’t let him have the baby, but it’s like you told him on the phone: Spencer made a stupid mistake, and you still love him. He never should’ve been going back and forth like that, but you get why he did. Wouldn’t you want Jasper, one day, to care about you in the same way Spencer loves his mother? You forgave him the moment he apologised.
“It’s alright,” you say, slotting Jasper from your arms to his, guiding his hand behind Jasper’s delicate neck. “Just hold him. He missed you.”
Spencer sniffles. “I missed him too,” he says.
“I know.”
Diane realises eventually that Spencer being home is a big deal. It’s not her fault, not understanding, but the new baby, her relocation again, her nurse barely gone, and Spencer’s sudden homecoming, it’s probably too much to deal with. She finds you, Spencer, and Jasper on the couch in the living room and frowns at him heartily. “You won’t hug your own mother?” she asks.
“You’ll have to hug me around the baby,” he says, sorry.
Diane agrees to this without fuss. She caresses his cheek as he’d done for Jasper as she pulls away.
“Thank you for helping out, mom,” he says.
“It was all Y/N, Spencer. You know mothers. We’re strong.”
Spencer looks at Jasper, still sleeping, and then to you, a shade of adoring in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “I know,” he says.
You curl into his side and take a breath. For the first time in weeks, you let your body relax, finding it sorer and angrier than you’d left it the last time you had the chance to check in.
Spencer brings the side of your face to his lips to kiss your weary cheek.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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sunghoon removing the condom mid sex because 1) he honestly couldn't care less 2) he genuinely believes he has rights to do so simply bc he wants to 🤷♀️ 3) you're too dumb on his dick to even notice that.. not until he cums inside ofc but it's not like you can do anything against his strength and big frame even if you wanted to
condom removal is so hot and I would do a lot for sunghoon to cum inside of me without protection 😩 make me creamy goddamn
note: this work contains themes of noncon and should not be replicated, and if this happens outside of the realm of fiction then it is considered sexual assault.
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Sunghoon knows he loves to have sex but he thinks you might like it even more than he does.
Neither of you are committed to one another but somehow, you find yourself in bed with him twice a week and don’t have an issue if he shows up your place unannounced. Sunghoon isn’t pushy and understands if you’re not available when he wants you to be. The respect is probably the reason why you agreed to start hooking up with him regularly on the first place.
And like, your birth control is always there to save you but you like using condoms for that extra layer of safety. Sunghoon always brought condoms with him whenever the two of you would meet up and the one time he didn’t have any was the first time he experiences having sex with you without that protective rubber.
He can’t get enough and dreams of your wet pussy against his bare cock. It makes Sunghoon hard every single time he thinks about seeing how tight you gripped him when he didn’t use condoms. He doesn’t ever want to go back.
Sunghoon has you on your hands and knees with your cheek pressed into the mattress. You’re almost sure you might be drooling and your hair fans across your face as he pounds into you with one knee on the bed. His other foot holds him up for stability as he fucks you like that.
“Tightest pussy in the world,” he moans loudly, too lost in the pleasure of seeing his cock drilling in and out of you, even with the protective sheen preventing him from truly feeling you.
You’re too gone to hear what he’s saying but his dick feels so big and good inside of you. You moan wildly and feel your own voice vibrate in your chest the more Sunghoon pushes and pulls against you.
“You like my cock?”
“I love it,” you choke out.
“Yeah, baby? Like it when my big dick fucks this tight hole?”
“Fuck me harder!”
Sunghoon’s crouches on the bed, using your body for balance ad both of his feet plant onto the mattress. He’s got a grip on your waist and squeezes when he feels you clenching around him. The new angle feels divine because his heavy, warm balls rest right against your pussy. He gives an experimental swing and you curse loudly when his balls smack against your clit.
“Oh, you like that?” Sunghoon pushes into you again. “You look so sexy beneath me. Makes me want to put babies in you.”
“N-No,” you stutter, trying to shake your head.
Sunghoon begins to push into you deeper. “No? You don’t want my cum? You don’t want it to take? But your pussy feels so good, baby.” His words make you moan and clench around him again.
“F-Fuck, Sunghoon!”
The echoing sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy makes Sunghoon’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He looks down to see the shape of your naked body and twitches right inside of you, which makes you squirm beneath him and the arch of your back crumbles in erotic pleasure.
Your pussy squeezes him a little too hard until you push him out but Sunghoon doesn’t mind. He grins at your wet hole and leans back to pull your bottom half into an arch again by pushing your legs together. You feel his tongue rub itself all over your folds and grip the bedsheets below you the more his wet muscle slides over your sensitive areas. Sunghoon flicks your clit a few times and drags it over the surface, making you moan right into his pillows.
He pulls away to give your pussy a smack. “Such a dirty girl, huh? Your pussy looks so cute when I’m using it.”
Sunghoon licks up another stripe before pulling himself upright. You don’t see him but you feel the bed moving underneath you as Sunghoon pulls your legs together again until your thighs are pressed against one another. He cages you in with his knees and you hear him jerking off with one hand while the other grips your ass and pulls each cheek apart to reveal your tight pussy.
“Your ass is phenomenal,” he complements as he twists his wrists while you close your eyes and bite your lip.
Sunghoon stays like that for a minute, admiring your asscheeks as you gush at the sound of his cock against the condom. You want nothing more than for him to stick his cock back in and start to think about the moments just prior when his balls slapped your pussy lips and sent you straight to heaven.
Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the sound of rubber smacking. Your heartbeat picks up at the familiar sound and start to turn around when Sunghoon pushes his tip back and forth over your folds, confirming your suspicions. The condom is gone.
“Suchhhh a nice pussy,” he groans as the wetness splashes onto his bare dick. “Makes me so horny.”
Your mouth hangs open the more Sunghoon pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself inch by inch until he’s so deep that you feel his balls just underneath your ass. He puts both of his palms beside you and pulls himself away from your body just to push back in.
You panic underneath him but moan simultaneously. Your heartbeat races at the sensation of his bare dick as Sunghoon twists his hips to angle himself deeper than he was before while your mouth hangs open, a string of moans pouring from the back of your throat.
“Your body’s gonna make me cum,” Sunghoon grunts. You close your eyes shut and clench around him in bursts when he speaks, making him moan deeply into the open air. He reaches over to his side and places the used condom on your left asscheek as he uses his hands to spread you apart, grunting at the sight of him invading your hole.
Sunghoon doesn’t give you any time to object or react and it feels too good to say something now. He stutters as his hips become faster and rougher before he’s gripping your asscheeks and digging his fingernails into your meaty flesh, his big cock lodged so deep into your pussy that you swear you’re in another dimension. He cums with his eyes focus on your hole and moans the second he sees it bubble out of you.
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon#hard thought
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Secret Sister | OP81
in which lando has a secret sister and oscar falls hard and fast
oscar piastri x norris!reader
fc: sophia birlem
a/n: lol hello this is my first ever smau, everyone say thank you rianna. hope you enjoy this and if you have any requests lmk!
landonorris:
liked by ynnorris, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 1376 more
happy 21st birthday to this gremlin, ig being your big brother is fun or whatever @/ynnorris
*tap to load comments*
userone: i’m sorry i beg your pardon what
usertwo: someone say sike rn
maxfewtrell: lando you’re going to break the internet with this post
userthree: a bit too late
userfour: YOU KNEW?!
ynnorris: guys i’ve been held captive for 21 years. dobby is free!
yourbestfriend: how long have you been waiting to say that?
ynnorris: 3 years
userfive: how did lando manage to pull this off for so long?!
oscarpiastri: you have a sister??
maxverstappen1: lando what?
usersix: it’s the way lando just hardlaunched that he had a sister for me 😭
alex_albon: I KNEW IT
georgerussell63 : i’m so sorry i never believed you
alex_albon: i was onto him back in 2019, you guys just thought i was delusional😞
userseven: moral of the story, always trust alex
ynnorris
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 47 others
hello world. twenty first and graduation? now you guys know who the smartest norris is xx
*tap to load comments*
landonorris: you’re public for one day and you already start publicly bullying me wtf
userone: oh i like her already
usertwo: sorry did i just see she graduated in computer science? from edinburgh? we love an educated queen
yourbestfriend: world’s hottest programmer
ynnorris: get it on a top
yourbestfriend: yes ma’am
userthree: why did she have to wait until her 21st to post? i’m so confused 😭
userfour: maybe lando didnt want her to be in the limelight and now that she’s an adult she’s in control of it?
userthree: oh that makes sense
ynnorris: he just didn’t want people to know that his sister is 100x cooler than him
userfive: yn pls 😭😭😭
oscarpiastri: hello
ynnorris: hello
landonorris: not happening
usersix: oh no poor lando 😭
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris i refuse to believe she’s real, tell her to come to monaco with a birth certificate
imessage
twitter
instagram - ynnorris
liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri and 973 others
just arrived to monaco and lan’s ditched me for max, give me recs x
*tap to load comments*
userone: i love that she thinks we’re rich enough to ever be in monaco
usertwo: the waterfront!
yourbestfriend: what happened to “we’ll go together”?
ynnorris: you chose your girlfriend over me 😁
yourbestfriend: she is quite literally graduating today
ynnorris: then don’t complain x
userthree: that’s a few too many suitcases no?
oscarpiastri: the vaundé bakery or the hiking trail
ynnorris: noted 🫡
userfour: something is going to happen between them two i’m calling it now
instagram dms
ynnorris
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 2734 others
i guess i understand why lando left gloomy london for this
*tap for more comments*
userone: where are the insta detectives, is that the bakery oscar recommended
usertwo: it is!
userthree: is that oscar?
oscarpiastri: no
userthree: oh no he’s experiencing his first heartbreak
landonorris: lol
userfour: foul
userfive: she’s living the dream
yourbestfriend: i miss u
ynnorris: come here, lando said i could invite anyone
landonorris: i did not.
ynnorris: do you want mum and dad to find out what happened to the clutch of their old fiesta?
landonorris: @/yourbestfriend what i meant to say is you’re more than welcome
usersix: she’s so effortlessly funny
imessage
ynnorris
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell and 7610 others
monaco over and out, see you soon 😉
*tap to load comments*
userone: is that oscar??
usertwo: god she is so pretty
userthree: i know oscar’s back when i see it
oscarpiastri: photo credits? 🙄
userfour: i knew it!
ynnorris: the photos are mediocre at best
oscarpiastri: take them down then, copyright 😤
ynnorris: big baby 😤
userfive: wait they’re so cute
maxfewtrell: oh yn
yourbestfriend: he’s going to kill you
landonorris: is that my balcony?
landonorris: answer the phone yn
ynnorris: no x
#f1#f1 smau#lando norris#oscar piastri#mclaren#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#lando norris sister#fanfic#f1 imagine#oscar x you#smau#social media
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a marauders guide to siblings
Sirius Black x Potter!reader + moonwater + jily [1.4k words]
CW: fem!reader, reader is James' twin, siblings
James loved love. Like, if someone were to ask James what his favourite thing was, first he would say quidditch, then he would say pranking, then he’d probably say his beautiful girlfriend Lily, and then he would absolutely without a doubt say love.
Oh, and maybe also he’d say ABBA, but the order wasn’t important, alright? The point was: James loved love.
So, once the rest of his mates found partners of their own (save Peter), he immediately began begging them for a triple date. But for as mischievous as his friends were, they were equally (if not painfully more) stubborn.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
“Please!?”
“I said no, James.” Remus sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; and sure, perhaps cornering him in the hospital wing following a full moon when he had nowhere to run nor hide from James’ pestering wasn’t very couth of James, but in James’ defence, he-
“POTTER.” Regulus barked from the door to the hospital wing that he just burst through, completely ignoring the reproachful shushing from the matron. “I swear to Salazar if you do not step away from my boyfriend, I-”
Except James never got to hear what Regulus planned on doing if he did not step away from his boyfriend because James - a smart man - chose that moment to shout “promise me you’ll think about it, moons!” before fleeing from the room.
It had gone just about the same with Sirius.
“No can do, Prongsie boy.” Sirius drawled without looking up from his study notes.
“And just why not?” James spat, obviously having had it up to here with his sodding no good best friends anyone could ever ask for.
Sirius hummed as he looked off into the distance like he was giving this question actual thought. “Oh, right. Because I don’t want to.” He deadpanned.
“Why not.”
“James.” Sirius hissed as he sat up straighter, eyeing the librarian who was eyeing the two infamous marauders right back. “I have no interest in sitting at a table with my brother as he makes googly eyes at my best friend, nor-” he paused as he held his hand up when James went to interject, “do I want to sit at a table with my girlfriends brother as I make googly eyes at her.”
“Then just don’t make googly eyes at my sister.” James hissed back, earning him a scoff.
“Have you seen your sister? That’s impossible.”
“Eugh.”
“See.” Sirius accused, raising a knowing eyebrow at him. “I’m not doing it.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
But if there was one thing James hated in equal measure as he loved love, it was quitting.
And in case that wasn’t clear; James hated quitting.
“Oh good, you’re all here.” You announced robotically as you approached Remus, Regulus, Lily, and Sirius at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
“You alright, Potter?” Regulus questioned slowly, looking between Sirius and Remus concernedly as they both let out a groan.
“What now?” Sirius muttered as he pinched the space between his brows.
“I’m supposed to say…” you continued, pausing to pull a cue card from your pocket and reading directly from it. “As you all know, the wonderful and momentous anniversary of James Fleamont Potter’s birth is approaching-”
You hardly spared a breath for the unimpressed snort from Remus at the fact that you and James shared a sodding birthday.
“-and his one wish - in place of any gifts - is for all of us to accompany him to one triple date at The Three Broomsticks on the next Hogsmeade weekend.” You finished, only looking up at the group when you finished reciting your script before pocketing it again.
“What exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” Lily asked as she leaned back in her chair.
“A triple date?” You answered in the form of a question.
“What do you really get out of this?” Remus asked with a laugh.
“James promised me an unlimited amount of jelly slugs for the rest of the school year.” You offered bashfully.
“Oh.” Sirius groaned theatrically before pulling you into his lap. “My poor sweet girl, being coerced by means of sweets.” He cooed pathetically into your hair.
“Does that mean you’ll do it?!” James shrieked excitedly as he appeared out of bloody fucking no where.
“Circe’s fucking tits.” Regulus hissed as he clutched at his chest.
Sirius scoffed as he removed one arm from around your waist to gesture at his brother. “Look what you’ve done now, James; you’ve reduced my baby brother to swears and blasphemy. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Please?” James asked quietly; puppy dog eyes darting nervously between his best friends, his girlfriend, his best friend’s boyfriend, and his sister.
And finally, after months of begging and badgering and whining and pestering, James finally got his triple date.
Except…except something was bothering James…
Which was weird, because it was perfect.
James got to see Regulus smile for quite possibly the first time ever when Remus offered him a bite of his meal from his own fork and then immediately stole a kiss when Regulus wasn’t paying attention.
For as wound up and fidgety you’d been on the walk down to Hogsmeade, James watched any and all tension melt from your body the second Sirius pulled a chair out for you, situated himself in the spot next to it and threw his arm over you like that’s where it was simply meant to be.
And the sound of Lily’s bubbling laughter echoed somewhere deep in James’ rib cage every time Sirius or Remus took the piss at James’ expense.
“Oh, James, you’d really like this.” You insisted then, interrupting James from his musings as you held your plate out for him to take a helping for his own plate.
“Awe, you guys are sweet.” Lily commented before she accepted a bite from James who had, indeed, really liked what you had ordered.
“Remus is already feeding you enough over there, don’t even think about it.” Sirius called over to Regulus who was actually not thinking about it at all, thank you very much, earning him a glare from his brother.
And that’s when it hit James.
“Wait a second.” He commented, causing everyone to look at him warily. “Sirius is dating my sister,” he started, ignoring Sirius’ groan and Remus’ quiet ‘here we go’, “and Remus is dating Sirius’ brother…then what about me?”
Regulus let out an inelegant snort as Lily scoffed in offence. “What do you mean ‘what about me’!?” She shrilled.
“Prongs, listen,” Sirius whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t want to alarm you, but you’re very close to losing the girl you spent six long years trying to snag.”
But before James could blanche (or beg for Lily’s forgiveness), Remus chuckled. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll claim Lily as a sibling and then you can be dating my sister.”
“What the fuck?” Regulus muttered at the same time Lily murmured “you’ll what?” and James cheered “that’s brilliant!”.
“Why on earth would that matter?” Regulus asked, though the end of his sentence trailed off when you started shaking your head.
“It’s best not to question it, Reg.” You offered him knowingly.
“Fine.” Lily muttered, nodding her chin over at Remus. “Then you have to share your chips.”
In response, Remus lobbed one across the table, hitting her right in the forehead which started a petty sibling squabble right there in the middle of The Three Broomsticks.
“Yes.” James whispered reverently. “This is perfect.”
“Were the jelly slugs worth it then?” Sirius murmured into your cheek as James cackled at the pettiness between the pseudo-siblings and Regulus threatened to bring them all back to the castle with no dessert if they didn’t smarten up.
You smirked as you turned your face towards his, though he made no effort to create space for you which left the two of you basically nose to nose. “At least I got something out of this.”
“I got something out of this.” Sirius said easily, continuing when you raised an eyebrow at him. “I got to spend an evening with my girl. That’s worth any nonsense.”
You smiled before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, reciprocating quickly when he greedily demanded more. “Well then, happy birthday to James Potter, I guess.”
Happy birthday to James, indeed.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius orion black#sirius black fic#sirius black blurb#Sirius Black imagine#sirius black ficlet#potter!reader#fem!reader#fluff#sirius black x fem!reader#background moonwater#background jily#ellecdc fics#siblings
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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌
Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.
I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst
Word Count: 2.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.
He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.
Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.
It’s bloody fucking brilliant.
Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.
With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.
He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.
They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.
You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.
You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.
Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.
He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.
But he does. Because why not?
Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.
You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.
Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.
Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.
Your…son.
Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.
He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.
“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?
The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.
“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.
He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.
It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.
“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.
Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”
John Price
John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.
He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.
Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.
Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.
John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.
He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.
Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.
John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.
If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.
He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,
“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.
Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.
John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.
“You have the wrong number, bud.”
The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”
“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”
John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.
“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.
This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.
And each month is fucking agony.
When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.
But fuck it. He’s here.
Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.
John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.
The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.
“John,” you breathe.
He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.
“Is that—”
“Yours?”
Fuck.
John glances up into your eyes and swallows.
You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.
“It is,” you confirm.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.
But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.
He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.
Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.
But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.
Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.
In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.
It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.
You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.
You are fucking pregnant. With his child.
It’s growing in your belly.
Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.
It’s fucking painful watching you like this.
He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.
But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.
Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.
Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.
He has to play this right.
He has to.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”
Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.
The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.
Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.
He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.
That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.
Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.
But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.
Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.
He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.
It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.
Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.
Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.
“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”
Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.
Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”
Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”
The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.
Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.
Is that?
No. Can’t be.
His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.
There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.
But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.
You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.
“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.
“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.
You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.
“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.
“Is that?”
“It fucking is.”
“She’s fucking pregnant.”
Johnny swallows. “Aye.”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.
But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.
You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.
You’re staring right at Johnny.
And he’s staring back.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
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@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
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@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23
#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 x female reader#task force 141 x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price x you#john price x you#soap x reader#soap x you#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x you#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#john mactavish x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#price mw2#captain price mw2#price cod#price x you#price x reader
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Columba
summary: It isn’t until you’re in his home that you learn it’s General Marcus Acacius who’s summoned you for your services—you’re not sure why he did, when the other courtesans standing beside you, hoping to be chosen by him, have bodies that look nothing like yours.
pairing: Marcus Acacius/Plus Size f!reader (Courtesan)
rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, explicit smut, plus size reader, courtesan reader, age gap (reader is of legal age in today’s standards), takes place pre-Gladiator 2, dommy Marcus Acacius (loves giving orders), he’s a tiny bit possessive, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, rough sex, backshots, woman on top, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, breast worship, hair pulling (m receiving), slight breeding kink, (1) pussy slap, dirty talk, spanking, spit mention, some biting, with hair like that he wants it pulled, some sweetness at the end)
word count: 4.8k+
a/n: I took one look at Marcus’ hair and immediately thought, that guy likes his hair pulled. I also decided that since he spends weeks to months with a bunch of men at a time, when he comes home, he really appreciates a curvy woman. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything for him until I saw the movie, but the trailer got me. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist
It was the marble bust atop a pedestal that revealed whose home you were in. The opulence of the domus’ atrium, with its four tall marble columns surrounding the impluvium's shallow, sunken pool in the middle of the room and the compluvium’s opening in the ceiling above it, allowing the moon’s light to filter in, told you whoever lived here had notoriety—then you saw the face carved out of stone, recognizing the curls and strong nose you'd only ever seen as he was paraded past you down the street in honor of his latest victory, and you knew.
General Marcus Acacius is a man feared by many for his ferocity and skills in battle. It's been said Mars, the God of War, blessed his birth, while others believe his bloodline is descended from the God himself. What you know to be true is he's a gifted General that the Emperors and Gods have smiled upon, and in his presence, an intimidating figure you didn't dare look at unless you were addressed.
There are four women standing to your right, all of you younger than him, naked, and courtesans of the highest standard—well-educated and well-versed in politics along with the pleasures of the body—and highly sought out by society's elite.
Marcus is at the opposite end, silently making his way down the line with what you can only assume is a scrutinizing eye, and you fear there's been a mistake that you're here—the other courtesans are all built similarly with small breasts, flattened stomachs and thinner waists than yours, whereas you’re curvier, and have more meat on your bones, with your bigger chest, soft noticeable belly, and grabbable hips. Clearly, he requested a particular type of woman, and it doesn't appear you're it. Staring down at the tiled floor seems better than seeing the disappointment on his face when he gets to you.
His sandaled feet come into view as he stands before you, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your bare body—golden snake bracelets coil around each of your upper arms, and at the unexpected gentle touch of his fingertips to one, you flinch.
"Do I frighten you?" His voice is a low, deep rasp that shivers down your spine.
"No, Sir," you answer.
His thumb strokes over the snake's head and along its body. "Why do you flinch?"
Raising your head, you see he’s wearing a white tunic with a gold pattern lining around his neck, down his arms, and along the hem, a belt securing it at his waist; golden cuffs covered his wrists. You’re met with dark eyes, a furrow crinkling between his eyebrows—his brown hair with a kiss of gray, curls like waves on his head, his facial hair dotted with a few silvery strands. It takes you a second to answer his question because the glimpses of him you caught during victory parades and the marble bust didn't prepare you for his beauty.
Mars and Venus have bestowed their blessings upon him.
“My apologies, Sir,” you finally reply. “It was simply surprise at being graced by your touch.” His expression is difficult to read, so you continue speaking, “I’ve heard of your prowess in battle that inspires songs and how your enemies tremble before you, but I do not believe I have reason to fear you—unless that is something you wish. Do you wish for me to be frightened of you?”
Some men liked it if you acted afraid of them to feel powerful. Some men, usually the big, tough ones, liked to bury their faces in your bosom while you held them. The slight show of relief on Marcus’ face when you said you had no reason to fear him made you suspect he’d be in the latter category.
“No.” His eyes are locked onto yours. “I do not need another to fear me. I wish for you to want my touch.”
“I wish for more than your touch,” you reply. “I wish to feel your lips on mine and your weight on top of me, I wish to feel your cock inside me and to hear the sounds you make when you peak, and I do wish for your touch; I wish to feel your hands claim my body as yours.”
His gaze turns to one of desire, and it makes you smile.
"You," he says. "Stay. The rest of you,” he announces, keeping his eyes on yours, “leave us.”
The invitation the messenger brought to your home the day prior did not state who requested your services; it simply said the person was a public figure, and the woman picked would be paid handsomely.
The servants, who stood as still as statues against a wall, scurried to assist each of the other women with redressing.
"Come," he orders, offering you a hand you accept. He leads you to a room you realize is his personal quarters when you spot his armor in a corner, Medusa's golden head on the cuirass shining in the candlelight—she wards off evil and offers protection. There's a bed against the wall opposite the door, and he lets go of your hand, slipping off his sandals by the doorway before walking over to a thin table laden with a jug, cups, and a bowl of berries and grapes.
"Care for some wine?" he asks without looking at you while pouring himself a cup.
His body is tense, and you’re assuming you’re here to help him relax—he arrived home only days ago from war, and you got a chance to see him rolling down the street on a chariot as he waved to the cheering masses. It would make sense that he could use somebody with your expertise to get him to unwind.
“No, thank you, Sir,” you answer, and he faces you again, taking a drink. “It’s a great honor that you chose me, and I do not wish to forget a single moment.”
His cup lowers, and you're surprised to find he’s wearing a little smile. He twists to set his wine down next to the jug, and removes the cuffs from his wrists, setting them onto the table then his eyes are on yours.
"Marcus," he says, and it only takes a few strides to have him in front of you again.
"I'm sorry?" you ask.
His attention moves to your body, and he’s not looking upon you like an object or something he’s just purchased as most men do; his gaze is appreciative, the same kind of look you could imagine was on his face when he stared at art that pleased him. Your figure isn’t the ideal for most Roman women—your hips are too wide, your breasts are too large, your ass is too big, your thighs are too thick, and your stomach is too noticeable—yet, there are many men who sought you out and paid well for your time, and it seems the General is one of them.
"My name." He walks around you, his fingers sliding along your upper back from shoulder to shoulder. “Call me Marcus. I want you to be familiar with how my name tastes on your tongue.”
The touch and his words cause your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.
"Marcus,” you say.
He’s in front of you again, his darkened eyes on yours. His big hands grip your waist, pulling you into him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale deeply. “Gods, you’re the best thing I’ve smelled in months.” The words are said against your flesh. “Like a meadow of flowers in Spring, and I fail to remember the last time I felt such softness.” He squeezes the fleshy handles at your hips and goes lower to grab handfuls of your ass, then runs his hands up your back. “Upon hearing your description,” he says, “I knew you’d be perfect, but what I imagined has no comparison to seeing your beauty with my own eyes.” His admission catches you off guard as it sounds as though he always intended to pick you from the line of women. It’s curious that he even invited the others if his mind had been set beforehand. He straightens, meeting your gaze. “Take off my clothes.”
There's no need to reply; you just do as he ordered, getting his belt undone, the leather falling to the floor, then pulling his tunic over his head, it meeting the same fate as his belt.
He’s completely nude, standing at his full height before you.
You expected the scars etched all over his body, the evidence that he'd lay down his life for Rome without hesitation. There's a long, jagged one across his right pec, silvered with age, that has you forgetting yourself and softly pressing your fingertips to it.
He snatches your smaller hand, pulling it away from his marred skin.
"My apologies," you quickly say, bowing your head in submission. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission."
"You may touch me." Once again, he surprises you by putting the flat of your palm against the scar, his other hand grabbing your chin to lift your face.
From his reaction to your fingers on him, you think he hasn’t been with a woman in quite some time, and you hope you can make up for all the nights he spent alone.
It seems he's done with the pleasantries when his lips crush into yours. It's all of the encouragement you need, kissing him back while rubbing your palms up his broad chest, feeling his warmth. You snake a hand down his stomach through the trail of hair low on his belly to take his half-hard cock into your hand—he groans and twitches in your hold.
He truly has the Gods' favor—a talented General, handsome and well-endowed.
With his hands on your waist, he walks you backward to the bed, laying you on the mattress. He's on top of you, deepening the kiss with his tongue pressing into your mouth, his hand palming your tit, making you wet with arousal and your body heat.
It's fascinating how he's defying all of your expectations. The men who seek you out after spending months fighting are often rough and brutish, using you however they want to release their tension. There's never kissing or offers of drink; it's orders to suck their cocks, or to get on the bed in their desired position—and here's Marcus kissing down your body, along the skin of your neck to your chest. Most of his weight is on his knees between your legs while bending forward over you, and the only word you can think of to describe it is he's worshipping your breasts. He has them in his hands, moving from one to the other, licking, sucking, and nibbling on your nipples and soft skin, the sensations making your pussy weep with need.
“Gods, Marcus,” you moan. He has you squirming with how good it feels, your fingers pushing into his curls. He takes a pebbled bud between his teeth and gently tugs. “Oh,” you gasp, your hands tightening in the tousled waves on his head.
He releases your nipple. “Harder,” he rasps, then flicks his tongue against your stiff peak, and you do as requested, pulling his hair harder. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as he continues laving at your tits, skimming his hand down your stomach, your skin tingling under his fingertips, until he’s sliding two fingers through your wet slit. You tighten your hold on his head, your toes curling when he starts rubbing your clit, and the realization hits that he intends for you to have just as much enjoyment as him.
"Marcus," you whine.
He’s one of those men who has you praying that he’ll wish for your company again, and you wouldn’t even make him pay if you got another chance to warm his bed.
The push of his thick digit into your pussy makes your breath hitch at the slight stretch, his thumb pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving side to side—you know he’s going to make you come, and you silently thank the Gods.
His finger is pushing in and out of you, his thumb continuing its movements, and he lifts his face to look you in the eyes, his own are so black there’s hardly a sliver of brown remaining. "Come for me," he commands, slipping a second digit inside you—you’re so wet you can hear the slick slide of his fingers pumping into you. The muscles in your belly are tightening, and the fire in your core is building. "Come for me, sweet girl." His head dips to lightly bite your nipple before soothing it with his tongue. "Once you come, I'll do as you wish and sheath my cock into this perfect cunt."
The hot heat of his mouth envelops your pebbled bud, and he sucks—it's your undoing; your eyes close as you fall over the edge, coming with a moan of his name. His digits and mouth continue to extend your ecstasy while your chest heaves with labored breaths and your heart pounds.
He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hand sliding from your pussy, up your stomach, leaving a trail of your release on your skin. His voice deepens, “You’ve done well for me, and I keep my word—turn over.”
He helps you to roll onto your front, and you get up onto your hands and knees—a familiar position. He takes a moment to admire you in front of him, his palms feeling the thickness of your thighs and hips. His fingers dig into your plump asscheeks as he spreads them and dips his head, hearing and feeling him spit between them, the hot saliva dripping from your asshole down to your opening. He shuffles up behind you, sliding his cock through the wetness of your come and his spit to lubricate himself, then notches it at your entrance—you both moan as he slowly starts feeding himself into you.
Gods, he’s big.
There’s a slight burn with how he’s stretching you, your inner walls having to accommodate his ample girth, and once he’s pressed all the way to the root inside you, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in.
He has a tight grip on your waist and pulls out almost all the way, immediately pushing back into you hard enough there's a clap when his hips hit your ass. This was expected, Marcus setting up a rhythm that punches the air from your lungs each time he thrusts forward—he’s working out what he doesn’t wish to feel, and with how slippery it is between your legs, he's moving easily, and the brutal pace feels amazing.
Many times, you’ve had to fake your enjoyment to make those employing you think they’re talented lovers—the majority are selfish in bed and care little about your comfort but want their egos stroked. Marcus, on the other hand, earned your favor when he took the time to ready you with his fingers and allowed you to climax.
He's pounding into you, the collide of his body against yours making your asscheeks shake, and with how his cock is pressing into something truly divine, he’s also earned your screams of his name and whatever incoherent words are babbling from your mouth—he has you dizzy with pleasure, heat coiling in your belly, and there’s no doubting the Goddess of Beauty and Sex has given him her blessing.
Sounds are spilling unbidden from your lips, Marcus loudly grunting with each stroke, the wet slap of skin hitting skin echoing in the room, and you look over your shoulder—the candlelight around the room shows the glisten of sweat on his golden skin. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his jaw slack. Hair is sticking to his forehead, and a beautiful rosy flush has begun on his chest, rising up his neck to paint his cheeks. You can't think of another you've laid with who looked so breathtaking while taking their pleasure, and you could only imagine how glorious he’d look on the battlefield. You don't know what comes over you, reaching your hand back to touch his hip, and suddenly, he’s looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust.
It’s as though he’s been in a trance, losing himself in your body, and now he’s come back to be in the moment with you. He falls forward, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you, blanketing your back and slowing his pace. His chin is on your shoulder, and he bites the shell of your ear; all of his weight goes onto one arm to free up the other that roughly grabs your breast and plucks at your nipple.
“You take me so well,” he says into your ear, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you. “Your sweet little cunt will milk me dry, and then I’ll have you again and again after that to keep you full of my seed.”
His words steal a moan from your lips.
“Does that please you, my sweet girl?” he asks. “You wish for more of me? Has another ever fucked you so good?” He gets his hand between your legs to circle the pearl of your pleasure, and your jaw drops, eyes closing—he’s going to make you come again. “Answer me,” he growls, lightly slapping your clit, and you clench around him.
It’s challenging to think, but you say, “No,” and push your ass back against him as he thrusts forward, fucking yourself on him to get closer and closer to your end. “I’ve never had such fortune.”
“You do now—by morning, I’ll have you ruined for any other man, and your cunt won’t soon forget the shape of my cock.”
He means every word that slips from his tongue, and it sets the fire in your belly ablaze. You’re holding yourself up on shaky limbs, the muscles in your stomach knotting up—you’re close.
“Marcus,” you moan.
His warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks into it: “I love how my name sounds from your lips. I know you’re close. Give in so I can feel you ascend to the heavens.”
His words, the fullness of his thick shaft moving in and out of you, and his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle at the apex of your thighs has you shattering—stars burst behind your eyelids as white-hot pleasure erupts in your center, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough he slows to a stop, and groans in your ear.
You exhale panted breaths, your heart beating rapidly, and the blissful euphoria ripples through your body, slowly ebbing away.
Somehow, you find your voice, "Allow me to ride you."
He kisses your shoulder, his beard scratching against your bare skin. "You want to mount me?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Then you shall."
He pulls out of you, an achy groan leaving him as he lies beside you on his back, and you get up onto your knees. He draws your attention with how he’s splayed out on the mattress, his long legs slightly spread and arms crossed over his head. His cock is still hard, it shiny with your juices, and resting against his lower belly, cushioned by the tantalizing path of hair that led directly to it—and he’s looking up at you, his eyes dark with want that keep lowering to your bosom, and back up to your eye line, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, that you suddenly wish to bite.
There’s the common knowledge about Marcus all of Rome is aware of—the family he comes from and the military achievements that have led to him being the victorious General the Gods have blessed the city with, and now you’re versed in his more private attributes—he likes his women to be sturdy with sizeable breasts, he enjoys the pleasurable pain of his hair pulled, he’s a generous lover, he prefers to be in control unless you can tempt him enough to hand over the reins. It’s quite tempting for him to lie back and watch your tits bounce as you ride him.
Shuffling in place to face him, taking his hard length in hand—he didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer, yet you want to take care of him like he took care of you, so you scoot back enough that you can bend down at the waist, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.
The sound of Marcus’ loud moan and the way his back arches as if it were the string of a bow shoots straight to your cunt—you can taste the mix of your essence and his arousal that’s steadily dribbling from the sensitive head that you lick and suckle; your hand easily stroking up and down the sheath of skin on his shaft. The muscles in his thighs and stomach have tensed like it’s taking everything in him to hold back and not fill your mouth with his come.
“Enough,” he grits the order through his teeth, and his palm lands on the side of your ass with a hard slap that echoes against the walls, the sharp sting getting a moan out of you—your head lifts off of him to see he’s scowling. “I’m not spilling down your throat,” he continues and smacks your ass again. “Ride me, or I’ll have you under me.”
“Apologies, Marcus,” you reply demurely and sit up on your knees once more. Quickly, you move, throwing a leg over his waist to have your thick thighs hugging his hips. You rise, grabbing his cock, you press to your entrance, and you watch his face as you slowly start to impale yourself on him, relishing in how his mouth falls open and the tight grip he has on the meat of your thighs, his fingers digging into them hard enough it bordered on painful.
The fullness is incredible when you sit flush against him, and you love how he fills you. Your palms find purchase on his broad chest, and you rise until only the tip of him remains inside of you, and you drop back down—the rhythm you set has you moving in his lap, up and down in quick succession, Marcus groaning, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your breasts.
Sweat forms on your skin, feeling it on your forehead and a single drop sliding down your spine, your eyes closed as you focus, your moans stuttering each time you sink onto him.
His hands are resting on your backside, rising and falling with you, his voice rough with pleasure, “That’s it, ride me, bounce on my cock.”
This isn’t about you, and though it feels good riding him, your goal is helping him achieve his own high, and you’re determined to do so—your hands leave him to press your tits together, and you gasp in surprise when he sits up and shoves his face into them. Your pace doesn’t waver, and you look at him to see he’s keeping himself up with an arm braced on the bed behind him, the other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.
Your fingers slide into the unruly curls at the back of his head, and you yank them hard to make him look at you, Marcus hissing while his cock twitches inside you. In this position, you’re taller, and he gazes up to meet your eyes.
“I want you to come,” you pant, continuing to fuck yourself on him. “I want to feel you flood my cunt with your seed.” The noise he makes sounds like a whine. “Then I want you to do it again, and again after that—I want you to fill me to the point I’m brimming with you, and you’re in me for days.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans out a long, drawn-out Fuck
With his beautiful neck on display, you duck your head and lick up the taut skin of his throat, wishing you could suck a mark into it to remind him of you for a while after you part ways. His free hand roughly grabs your chin to pull you close enough for him to slot his lips against yours, and you have to slow to a grind as he messily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth.
He breaks away to fall back onto the mattress, his fingers getting a tight grip on your ass, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you enough to start thrusting up into your soaked pussy rapidly—he’s grunting while baring his teeth to chase his high, and all you can do is press your palms to his chest for balance while keeping yourself raised enough for him to pound into you.
The slick push and pull of him, moving in and out of you, has you chanting his name, and it sounds wet between your legs, hearing the clap of skin on skin of him plowing into you. Perspiration makes his tan flesh glint under the candle's light, his hair is a mess atop his head, and his expression is wild; it’s no surprise when his strokes get uneven and his eyes close. Marcus tugs your ass down to bury himself as far as possible in you as he gives in, coming with a guttural groan—you feel his cock jerk and the wet pulse as he paints your insides with spurts and spurts of his spend, wringing himself out until his body goes completely lax.
He pulls you forward to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, and turns you both onto your sides. There’s a hiss that slips from his lips when he removes his softening length from your cunt, and you smile at Marcus sliding down the bed far enough for his face to nuzzle in your bosom while hugging you tight. Your fingers stroke through his sweat-damp curls, his hums of appreciation sounding like the purr of a cat.
Minutes pass in silence as your breaths even out and your hearts slow. After some time, he says something you can’t make out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” you reply.
His head lifts, and he kisses under your chin. “Stay,” he says again.
“I have no intention of leaving. I’m here until you send me away.”
“And if I don’t wish to send you away?”
His lips trail along your jaw.
Your eyebrows pull together. “As I said, I’m here until you request my leave.”
“And if I never request your leave?”
He’s kissing your neck now, the question making your eyes round. “You intend for me to be your mistress?”
It’s not uncommon for a courtesan to become one’s mistress. Some of you are from families of wealth and do this line of work for the powerful connections, while others are freedwomen who’ve worked their way up to earn their notoriety—either case, courtesans are respected and thought to make great mistresses.
“That is all I can offer since I have no plans to marry,” he answers. “You can stay here with or without me when I’m ordered away, and whatever is left of my salary and spoils of war after the household debts are paid, you may keep.”
He makes you frown.
“Why me?”
Marcus gets his arm out from under you and scoots up the mattress to look you in the eyes.
“You’re everything I desire in a woman with your beauty and intellect, and you can sate my needs in bed—you’re perfect, and I want you all to myself. I do not wish to share you with anyone else.”
It’s in this moment you realize you’re the one in control here—you don’t need him, you’re self-sufficient, and there are many who’d eagerly take his place, but your looks are rare in your profession, and he needs his deal to be enticing enough for you to take it.
“What if I decline your offer?”
“Then I pray you’ll allow me to keep your company until I receive my next orders.”
He seems to be a good, honorable man who wants to please you, and he had you tempted to accept on the merit of his skills in bed alone—there’s just something that won’t leave your mind.
“Before I make my decision, answer this question: if you believe me to be so perfect, why were the others here?”
He presses his large palm to your cheek. “It was in your power to deny me your company, and though the other women weren’t of my tastes, they were better than nothing.”
You see no flaws in his answer.
“I accept your offer on one condition.”
“And that is?”
You no longer find him intimidating, and you’re now comfortable brushing errant hairs off his forehead and sliding your fingers through the curls above his ears.
Your eyes lock onto his. “You return home to me,” you tell him. “You fight with the might of Mars, and you always return home to me.”
That earns you a small smile, and he takes your hand into his, kissing the center of your palm.
“I will, my Dove.”
Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!
#pedro pascal#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius/reader#marcus acacius x y/n#wheresarizona writes
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some of my best friend rafe cameron headcanons
warning: nsfw, minors dni!! my brain is just best friend rafe brainrot i'm so down bad for him <333 these are some headcanons i have for the best friend rafe blurbs and fics i've been writing !!! the sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated by the divider :)
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ SFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
ʚɞ you've been best friends since childhood. he'd do anything for you.
ʚɞ spoils the hell out of you. he'd do ANYTHING to make you happy, buys you all the things you want, you text him that you're having a bad day BOOM there's three hundred dollars in your bank account.
ʚɞ whenever you're on your period he comes over with all your favorite things and reluctantly cuddles you (but grumbles about it) even though you know he secretly likes it.
ʚɞ he can't stand it when you're ignoring him. spams you with texts and calls. sometimes you block him and he deadass shows up behind your door begging for forgiveness and then fucks you until you cry <3
ʚɞ also whenever you're mad at him for some dumbass shit he does (bc let's face it he's a grade a dumbass sometimes) he thinks he can bribe his way out of it but you're just like ... bitch please.
ʚɞ the thing between you started when you drunkenly confessed to him that no guy had ever made you have an orgasm and you could only get off when you were on your own... and rafe was determined to change that (and he did. multiple times that night and the morning after.)
ʚɞ bought you a locket with his initial on the back (on the inside there's a a pic of you two kissing in a photobooth as well as one of you as children.)
ʚɞ you bought a watch for him for his birthday and he wears it every single day. your initials are carved in the back.
ʚɞ has a folder on his phone full of pictures you took together, and of pictures of you. password-protected.
ʚɞ sometimes you read to him and it drives him INSANE. he could listen to your voice for hours and hours on end.
ʚɞ you had always thought he wasn't a relationship person and that's why he didn't want to be official, so when he started dating sofia you had such a bitch fit. wouldn't talk to him for weeks. he tried everything, bribing you, showing up to your house... but eventually you caved in and you guys started fooling around behind her back (against the mirror) and although he feels kinda bad for cheating he just can't resist you.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ NSFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
ʚɞ pet names. pet names. PET NAMES!!! his go-to are princess, angel, and bunny. one time you called him daddy during sex and he almost blew his load.
ʚɞ loves going raw and coming in you. makes him feel like you belong to him and only him <3 literally had you go on birth control bc you were getting sick of having to get plan b because he was conveniently out of condoms every time you fooled around and he swears he just "accidentally" came in you when he said he'd pull out. you made him promise that he wouldn't go raw with anyone else tho and he doesn't.
ʚɞ really likes missionary bc he loves to see your face when you come it drives him INSANE how pretty you look taking him.
ʚɞ giving him head whenever he's stressed or having a bad day. he returns the favor tho <3
ʚɞ loves taking his time with you but also really likes rushed, messy quickies whenever you're busy.
ʚɞ one time you guys were hanging out with mutual friends and when your dress hiked up, he could see that you'd written his initial on your thigh and it took everything in him to not take you into the nearest bathroom and fucking the hell out of you ... instead he did that right after you two left xxx.
ʚɞ literally takes you to buy lingerie... ON HIS BIRTHDAY... and you try them all out for him later that night and he gets to be the one to take them off. accidentally rips one of the panties he bought for you but he orders a new pair right after <3
ʚɞ chokes you. nuf said.
ʚɞ your phone's wallpaper is actually a pic of his hand around your neck that he took with his signature ring on his finger.
ʚɞ whenever you see him out and about with sofia you accidentally send him a pic of you in lingerie. then you see his eyes widen and later that night he fucks you so hard you leave actual clawmarks on his back.
ʚɞ sometimes he leaves bruises on you, and even though he feels bad about it afterwards it also turns him on like CRAZY. he loves marking you up, and sometimes you end up with hickeys and your friends question where they came from and you just shrug. to them, he's just some mystery hook-up, but they have no idea it's your best friend.
ʚɞ you sometimes let him record you during sex and he watches the videos of you whenever he misses you. has a whole password-protected folder in his phone of your nudes and videos you took together.
#outer banks fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron hc#outer banks fic#outer banks smut#outer banks#headcanon#bsf!rafe
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Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I
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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.
''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.
''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.
''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.
''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.
''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.
''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.
''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.
''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.
''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.
''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.
''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.
[NEXT]
#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#call of duty#simon ghost riley imagine#ghost x f!reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#dad!simon riley#dad!ghost#ghost mw3#mw2 x reader#mw2 x you
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Hi! I give you this Stobotnik fankid I made a while ago :'y
She's Sofia --or Ivania or some other name ending in 'ia'-- Robotnik (coolest last name)
It's a compilation and also there's some Stone for practice bc I have no idea how to draw him pipipi Eggman is easier bc it's just his Sonic Boom design (I love it)
Some stuff about this universe under the cut!
(Btw if there's incongruencies is bc I can't make up my mind about the facts whwhw)
-Robotnik and Stone are married, very much married. Cartoon villains in love, I love that for them.
-["MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE-"] Mixing up the movie things and the whatever's going on in the Sonic Boom, so Robotnik was gone for eight months and when he's back she's already born.
>Also the drawing is a reference to Icarly's "Whatcha got there?" "A smoothie" but she was clearly asking about the ostrich Spencer brought with him.
>Alternatively, Eggman's there and they go through the journey together yippiee. Choosing names, making evil parenting plans and whatever, being their idiot selves.
(After celebrating because they're good news actually) "I want a boy or a girl-" (Eggman) "Yeah me too." (Stone) "-and we should name them a single, worth of remembering name! Like... Eggette for a girl and Eggson for a boy." "I'm not letting you name them any of that, doctor..." "Okay, then how about Beyonce for a girl and-"
>They wouldn't have kids (?? maybe? I don't really know, I only know sonic boom and the movie :'U)- but she was probably the 1% the birth control warns you about. Also, Stobotnik got a very active seggsual life, and I'm imagining she came to be from a quickie over the desk, why not.
>Helpful diagram of Eggman + Stone kissing and then = baby. They were in work hours.
-In the one where he comes back and the baby's already there, Eggman does a terrible job as a father the few first months, but then he gets the hang of it and it's not so bad.
>He gets projectile vomited on and he's immediately asking to get an abortion (the baby's already born) (he didn't give birth to her), Stone says no anyways.
>"Surprisingly, I'm a good father" he thinks one day and it's because he's still very much an orphan here with no frame of comparation or example aside from researching the matter.
-In the one where they wait for her together, he does all the research necessary in all those months, absolutely refusing in doing an average job in that matter, he's the great Ivo Robotnik c'mon. He excels at anything and he'll be a great father (jk he's terrified of fucking up).
-The Stobotnik family is an evil but loving family, like the bears in Puss in Boots whwh criminal family✨
-For the funny of it, Sonic and Eggman got a sort of relationship like in Sonic Boom, so sometime maybe our favorite boy, Tails and Knuckles had to look after their child.
-Also since Knuckles broke Stone's and Robotnik's hands with their handshake, let's have him handle the baby with the most careful grip ever, just to demonstrate that he didn't have to grab their hands that hard aksdjask
-She's a big fan of Sonic and friends (Sonic the Hedgehog, not Sonic Wachowski, the second guy hadn't done even half the things she admires him for, but no one has the heart to tell her when she's a kid). Has a bunch of merch and all the comics of Sonic the Hedgehog.
>When she's a teenager she proudly uses her Sonic backpack in the same way Deadpool uses his Hello Kitty backpack.
-BTW Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are all brothers and Maddie and Tom's kids bc that's the best idea ever made.
-ALSO I'm definitely gonna draw that scene where Knuckles was about to put the baby in the blender and Sonic shouts THE CHILI DOG NOT THE BABY. Some day, you'll see pipipi.
-SAGE was created for various reasons, to be her sister (since she wouldn't stop asking for one but neither Stone nor Robotnik were willing in raising another human kid, thanks very much), to protect her, and also to answer the tedious "why?" questions that neither father had the patience for (A+ parenting right there). Maybe she was used for the original purpose too idk (I don't know that sonic game where she debuts).
>The child's delighted about having a sister, then she grows up and SAGE doesn't, so she has a little sister.
>METAL SONIC TOO MAYBE? Perfect lil american family, the two happily married parents and their three kids (one human girl, an IA and a robot clone of their alien enemy).
-On her early months she was called Pebble, because she really was a mini Stone, Robotnik went along with it (bc he also looked at her and only saw his husband whw) until she was a little older and they started calling her by her name.
>Alternatively, since Eggman was gone, Stone waited for him to return in hopes of choosing together a name for their child, and Pebble worked as a placeholder since she was just a bebi.
>Alternatively alternatively, Eggman came up with the nickname. ROCK-ONNAISSANCE 🗣️ also yeah I know he was going crazy from the mushroom stuff, but he's not above making silly puns, he's a dad now and also he's naturally silly.
(NGL I really gotta make up my mind about how it all happened ajsdkad)
-She's a spoiled kid and also a little menace, unintentionally evil, she can't help it.
>Good-hearted too sometimes, she loves Sage and does her best to protect her back (it's not necessary but it's appreciated anyways).
-Robotnik calls himself 'daddy' way too much in the live-action movies to ignore it, so he's daddy and Stone's dad (dada when she was younger).
>"These are my daddies!" (points to what's clearly two villains -but also good fathers-)
-She has Robotnik's eyes but as big as Stone's. They're the lethal-est sad puppy eyes ever (they work wonders on both parents and other people) (both men got beautiful dark brown eyes with visible eyelashes fight me).
>Look at Eggman's silly eyelashes:
>Also, you know that picture of Lee Majdoub with the beautiful everything? I think he was wearing eyeliner so my Stone wears eyeliner too in contrast to Eggman's dark circles under his eyes JDJS😭
-She's the five-year-old that made Sonic fear them because 'they can be so cruel when they sense weakness' (she was brutally honest as any young kid is).
-Stone and Robotnik got Gomez and Morticia Addams kinda parenting. They see their child beating up someone and they're like:
"What did we do wrong?" (Stone while shaking his head in disappointment) "I know... she lacks resourcefulness." (Eggman) "Exactly, there's her baseball bat right there, why doesn't she use it?"
-Remember that Shadow said in a game that he wouldn't mind taking a candy from a baby? (fandub I think but still) This comes in handy when neither Tails, Sonic or Knuckles want to upset the kid (so Shadow does it instead).
-She plays sports too because she got too much energy. In each of them she loses her patience. She grabs the football and hauls it at the nearest team member, she throws her baseball bat to the ground and starts beating up whoever threw the ball that she missed, she stomps in frustration if she loses, she's great at dodgeball (sends her classmates to the infirmary).
-Throws tantrums and stuff and overall's an annoying kid if she's upset. Eggman's like UGH WHY'S SHE LIKE THIS?? and Stone's like Because of you, doctor (terrible temperament runs in the family and also Robotnik just spoiled her too much).
-I'm kinda dressing her up in the clothes that existed in my mind that supposedly Eggman wore (the weird dress-like jacket with the big zipper in the middle). Under her jacket there's a dress in the same pattern as the original Eggman's clothes, also she wears a baby onesie like that too.
-When she's older she's definitely proud of her fathers, but she doesn't appreciate the rumors that she's prone to go power-crazy like Robotnik did. Especially because it may be true, but what do they know.
-For the irony, she can't stand drinking coffee, but loves the smell of it because it reminds her of home (omg).
-THEY HAVE A PET CAT like I read in some fics and her name is Robot and she's a lil shit and also grumpy like Robotnik.
>Maybe she brings her alive mice to experiment on all sort of stuff (like Pávlov and his dogs and the guy Skinner with his mice and cats (??))
-She gets to hang out with Sonic and friends under the condition of annoying him as much as possible. So, she complies. (She loves Sonic the Hedgehog, but she loves making her fathers happy more).
-Very smart kid but not to the level of Tails or Robotnik at that age, she's just got very good memory and learning skills and knows a lot of stuff ever since she was a little kid. More like a Matilda-kinda intelligence.
-She's a scientist when she grows up too but the kind that makes evil potions and serums and stuff aksjdk probably (chemistry things? biochem idk). She can make silly little robots for the fun of it but it's not her passion, unlike Robotnik and Stone's. PROBABLY. I'm still deciding.
-BTW LOOK (it says 'carefully crafted ploy to distract space porcupines')
>While Eggman's there with the baby and Sonic in front of him going AWWW BABY BOO and making her laugh, Stone is sneaking up on him holding a chair above his head to knock him out.
THAT'S IT THANKS FOR READING ✨✨
#sonic the hedgehog#my art#agent stone#doctor eggman#ivo robotnik#aban stone#coolest fanmade name#stobotnik#I'm so normal about my fanbabies#Ivania Robotnik is too obvious but also why not#Sofia Robotnik sounds cool tho#fankids#I gave up on coloring everything sorry#SONIC BOOM EGGMAN MY HUSBAND 🗣️🗣️🗣️#When I was a kid I watched that show just for him whwhw#pls pls pls receive this well i want to draw these villains in love more#eggman being in love with stone is my favorite thing in fics#he loves in such a weird way but it's okay Stone loves it
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Pregnancy Headcanons
──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react before, during and after your pregnancy
warnings | Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters
divider by @princessbellecerise
Jacaerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Jacaerys has the audacity to look shocked when the Maester tells him that you’re pregnant, like the two of you haven’t been fucking like rabbits ever since you got married
No seriously—he literally freezes and just kind of…stares with an unreadable expression on his face
Just sort of wide-eyed, in shock before he finally snaps out of it and briskly walks away without another word
He’s not really sure what to do, or how to react to be honest. And it might take a few days for him to come around, but he will eventually
Bonus: Rhaenyra sees his reaction and she’s like Jacaerys, what did you expect?
And he’s like: Not this
And then she’s like: Well did you pull out? Ask for moon tea? Something??
And Jace is just like staring at her like: No? Why would I do that?
Like boy what did you expect when you literally nut inside your wife every single time
During Pregnancy
Once he does come around though, Jacaerys will be so protective. I’m talking like he barely let you out of his sight, and makes sure that everyone knows you’re pregnant
Like they can’t already tell, he’ll constantly tell people that you’re carrying his heir and that they need to be careful with you
Even the Maesters who literally know what they’re doing get a scolding by the future king if he thinks they’re being too rough
No one is allowed to get too close to you and if they do, Jace will always have one hand on his sword just in case he needs to defend you
He will even better himself at sword fighting, pushing himself to the limits during the hours that he’s not with you so that he can always be prepared
For Jacaerys, you being pregnant is sort of like a wake-up call for him, a chance for him to finally rise to his responsibilities and become a bit more serious
He understands the weight of being king now and for Jace, he’ll want to put away all childish things so that he could become the man you and your child need
Giving Birth
Oh my god he’s so supportive
I’m talking like this is a man that will get behind you and physically hold you while you push
Despite what anyone says, he will be there for the birth of his child and he will be so soothing
Holding you, kissing you, kissing your neck to calm you down, taking the cloth from the Maester and wiping the sweat off of your forehead
Jacaerys’ support of you never ends and he’s constantly telling you how proud of you he is even while you’re screaming your lungs out
He’ll help you breathe and let you squeeze his hand till you break it if that’s what you so desire
Calling you his brave girl and letting out teary laughter when your baby is finally delivered
After Birth
When your child is born, it’s like fatherhood is something Jacaerys is born for
He’s a natural; knowing exactly what to say and how to raise your children even if you are still figuring it out
Seriously, it’s like he has a cheat code or something
If the two of you have a boy, then Jace won’t hesitate to start grooming him to be king and unlike most father’s, he is very involved in his son’s upbringing
Jacaerys will be the one to teach him how to hold a sword, how to ride a horse and a dragon. Jace will be there for his son every step of the way no matter how improper it may seem
Likewise, if he has a daughter, he will be entirely overprotective
If you thought it was bad when she was in the womb, just wait until Jace takes one look at his baby girl
Suddenly, he’s terrified to let her out of his sight; sometimes even holding her on his knee during council meetings. She likes to play with the marble and Jace tries so hard to keep a straight face while also wrestling it out of her hands
Everyone at the meeting will try and pretend like they don’t hear her babbling and like it’s not the cutest thing ever while they’re talking about literal war
Overall, Jace would be prepared to defend you and your children to the death if need be, and he would be such a stern but loving dad
Lucerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Luke doesn’t even notice that you haven’t gotten your moon blood for several months and neither do you, until one day a servant happens to say something and you’re both like: oh shit
Since you both are still quite young you’re not really supposed to be having heirs at the moment. Like Rhaenyra specifically told this boy to not get you pregnant just yet and now he’s terrified of telling her
So yeah, it was an accident and Luke is so nervous he’s literally shaking when the Maester confirms it
But sweet boy, he will do his very best to remain calm and will put on a brave face for you
He’ll act like he’s not scared as well at the prospect of having children so young but on the inside he’s freaking out. He’ll hold your hand tightly and give you kisses to calm you down, keeping his voice from shaking to seem brave
During Pregnancy
Even though it’s a little too soon for the both of you to become parents, Luke will slowly become excited at the prospect of becoming a father
Like he’s so proud, growing to love his child before you’re even four months along
He decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to protect you and his child and swears that no harm will ever come to either of you
While you’re pregnant, Luke will take on every single responsibility so that you won’t be stressed out. He always has you relaxing and content while he deals with all of the hard stuff
And yeah, over the course of the months he will find himself growing up a little
Maybe a little bit too fast, much his mother’s sadness, but Rhaenyra can’t help but love the look of pride of Luke’s face every time he touches your belly. And neither can you
You love when Luke rubs your son or daughter and you especially love when he blows raspberries on your stomach, giggling every time while he coos to the baby or talks to them in High Valerian
It’s a such a sweet moment to witness and many people, sometimes even Daemon, catch themselves smiling or smirking at you and the young prince
Giving Birth
Okay, so Lucerys is now back to being scared shitless
It all started on the day you delivered your child, with Luke sweating and pacing outside of your room while the Maesters attended to you
Your screams severely upset him and he kept pacing back and forth in the hallway, peeking in the room and desperately trying to get a glimpse of you before the Maesters pushed him out
He wants to be there for you so bad, especially since it’s your first pregnancy and you’re crying your eyes out for him
Eventually, he’ll just have to say damn it and force his way in, gathering his courage for his wife. And even though the Maesters tell him that it’s highly improper, he’ll ignore them and will hold your hand the entire way
Whispering sweet praises in your ear and stroking your back while Rhaenyra or your own mother loudly encourages you
He’ll be so worried up until the moment he hears that first cry, and that’s when everything just melts away for Luke and all he can feel is happiness when the Maester hands you your child
After Birth
After your child is born, you and Luke are the absolute best parents
You’re both soft and gentle with your baby, and you’re glowing in a way that Luke just absolutely loves
Both of you have immense pride for your son or daughter and you fall in love immediately despite not even knowing if you were ready yet
You just…jump in and honestly it’s not so bad for you and Luke once your bundle of joy finally gets there
Lucerys especially is thrilled, winning the best dad award for always playing with your child or making up silly games to make them laugh
You love watching him interact with your baby because he’s just so good at it and he doesn’t even realize it
Sometimes, he’ll confess his insecurities that he might not do a good job at raising your kid and you literally have to be like: hold up. Luke you’re doing amazing already
He’d be scared and terrified on where this new adventure would lead but honestly, Lucerys has never been happier and in the end it would all work out
Also, he totally gets so excited when you let him pick out an egg for the baby, just like he did for his brothers
It’s almost like it’s tradition, and every single time Luke knows exactly the right one to choose
Aemond Targaryen
Finding Out
If you’re nervous to tell Aemond, then don’t be
Nine times out of ten he’s so perceptive that he’ll put it together himself and Aemond will be over the moon
He will not stop smiling the entire time the Maesters confirm it, pressing a hand to your stomach and kissing your belly
His reaction kind of throws you off a little bit because you’ve never seen him so excited in his life, but he reassures you that he’s been waiting so long for this moment and now he’s just ecstatic that it’s finally here
During Pregnancy
While you’re pregnant, Aemond hardly ever lets you leave your bed chambers. Nor does he let anyone other than your family or Maesters near you
He’s just so protective and he’s paranoid that something’s going to happen so he wants you to be safe at all costs
He definitely does his own research because it’s not like he distrusts the Maester’s, he just wants to be sure that he knows what they know and more about childbirth in case he has to step in
God forbid your baby won’t come or is stuck upside down—two common themes for Targaryen children. Aemond reads all about it so that he knows different ways of getting the baby out or repositioning it without hurting you
He’ll also read about different birth techniques and decides to teach you to make your labor easier
Making you drink raspberry tea, take walks or stretch to lesson your pain when the time comes
You have to admit, you’re a bit shocked when your husband comes to you and makes you start doing breathing exercises with him
After all, who would have thought Aemond of all people would be so involved and so devoted?
It definitely warms your heart to see though—and no matter how much you want to wave him, you always end up letting him help you because you trust your husband you know more than anything he has yours and your child’s best interests at heart
Giving Birth
Aemond will respect your privacy and will wait outside during your labors, but you better believe he’ll be right there
Listening to every scream and every detail just in case he feels the need to step in
If you really want him to be there, he absolutely will be in a heartbeat. And if anybody tries to stop him he’ll venomously tell them to get out of his way before pushing them aside
As much as he loves his incoming child, majority of Aemond’s focus will be on you and your safety
He’ll make sure everything is going smoothly before he even thinks about celebrating and only then will he finally start to smile, a grin like no other taking over his face when your baby is finally placed in his arms
After Birth
Aemond is a caring yet trusting father
He knows that if his child came from you, they’ll already grow up to be exceptional so he allows them to grow into their own person
He doesn’t hover, but he does care. A lot
He may not show it in every way but if your child wants his attention, they’ve got it. If they want to play with him, he absolutely will. If they want to be comforted? He’s there. They tell him they want some space? Then Aemond is in the next room over, ready to talk when they are
In a way, your children are way for Aemond to heal his own self. To be there as a parent like his never were
Early on, Aemond already swore to you and your babe that he would never abandon you or ignore you when you needed him most
He swore to break the curse his parents placed on him so he is very involved with his kids
He’s also very protective, especially considering what he went through in his childhood. He never wants his child to feel left out so Aemond will go searching for a dragon egg pretty early on
You better believe that thing is burning HOT until the moment it’s ready to be placed in your child’s cradle
And Aemond swears
He swears by the old gods and the new that if they allow his child to have their own dragon he would never commit another sin again, if that’s what it took
And sure enough, Aemond is beyond relieved when your babies egg hatches—the widest grin ever overtaking his face as the baby dragon prances about
You swear—you sometimes joke that it was Aemond’s fiery gaze on the egg that hatched it and not nature
And while that very well may be true, Aemond is just grateful nevertheless that even if he wasn’t delt the best cards, he sure would find a way to rig the game for his children
Anything just to make them happy
Daemon Targaryen
Finding Out
You wish you could say that after having two children of his own, your husband would recognize the signs of pregnancy
But unfortunately Daemon is not a man that concerns himself with that kind of stuff so it’s the Maester that points it out to him
And at first, Daemon is stunned
Like okay—he knows that he never pulls out and that the two of you go multiple rounds a day but pregnant?
He thought that your tits getting bigger was just, well, a huge blessing for him
He can hardly believe his ears or that he’s going to have more children
Briefly, he jokes that he may as well start breeding his own army which causes you to punch his arm
Joke aside though, Daemon is really happy and he will shower you with kisses, laughing slightly at how his seed must be extra strong to stick so fast
During Pregnancy
Daemon is not really much help himself, expect for when it comes to massages or warm baths
Almost every night, to ease your discomfort, your Lord husband will bathe you which is oddly intimate for him, or he will massage your feet and shoulders to soothe some of the pain
Of course, your other activities will remain as well which helps a little the closer you get to birth
Mostly, Daemon will be ordering Maesters around or just simply asking you of your progress from time to time
He really hopes for a boy secretly, and sometimes while you’re sleeping or just barely awake, he will rub your stomach and whisper sweet phrases in High Valerian
Expect Daemon to also already have the names of his children picked out, boy or girl
He might even ask Baela or Rhaena their opinion and let them choose an egg from Caraxes
If he has to be somewhere else where he cannot physically look after you, he’ll also entrust his daughters to keep them informed and up to date on your condition
Giving Birth
Daemon is outside, on the balcony while your screams reach his ears
Truth be told, it’s too much. He can’t be there as much he wants to be—as much as you surely need him to be
After witnessing Laena’s death, childbirth has become quite traumatizing for Daemon so he prefers to remain outside, waiting until a Maester or one of his daughters come to fetch him
Of course, Baela—ever her father’s daughter—scolds Daemon a bit and reminds him that every lady wife needs her husband during such times
But Daemon will not budge, not until Rhaena comes to the balcony with an unreadable expression on her face
At first, Daemon is terrified. He stands, the breath freezing in his lungs as he tries to decipher what that might mean. Your screams had died down…perhaps…
Daemon stands, his heart clenching in chest as he begins to possibly grapple with another untimely death of the one he loved. He prepares himself, but then a wide smile grows on Rhaena’s face and Daemon knows all is well
“My sibling is here. It is healthy, father.”
That’s all Daemon needs. And suddenly, he’s tearing himself away and down the halls, straight to your room where he walks in on the sight of your smiling face and the glowing cheeks of his newborn child
After Birth
You like to give Daemon the benefit of the doubt and say that he spends an equal amount of time with his children
Of course, maybe a little bit more attention towards the baby since he or she does need Daemon more than his adolescent children, but as your child grows up pretty much everything is the same
Baela and Rhaena absolutely adore their new sibling and vice versa. They may be a bit older but you’ll always find the three of them playing together or one of the girls reading them a bed time story
It always warms your heart to see them bond, and Daemon’s too
Though he’ll never admit it, his favorite thing to do is spy on his children and eavesdrop as the girls help the youngest with their Valerian
Or when the three of them are together, somehow still fitting on his lap and Daemon teaches them the history of their house while you sit in the background, smiling
It’s special moments like those that remind you that while you may have married a morally grey man, his number one priority would always be his family
And you know more than anyone that with Daemon around, the five of you would never have anything to fear
#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#lucerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader#hotd x reader#hotd fluff#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#hotd
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