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witchywithwhiskey · 7 months ago

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the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were.

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved.

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him.

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside.

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart.

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door.

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume.

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent.

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit.

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life.

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help.

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up.

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you.

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup.

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come.

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged.

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing.

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him.

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat.

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve.

The alpha next door was just so…sweet.

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor.

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet.

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together.

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard.

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous.

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun.

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body.

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically.

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve.

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due.

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you.

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it.

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock.

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!”

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more.

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun.

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway.

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve.

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength.

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together.

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes.

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands.

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges.

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you.

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his.

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy.

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped.

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you.

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound.

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole.

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body.

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy.

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?”

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot.

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach.

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in.

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?”

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.”

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot.

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it.

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door.

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible.

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment.

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words.

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed.

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt.

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!”

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.”

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast.

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver.

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet.

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips.

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer.

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot.

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr.

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him.

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness.

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him.

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.”

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.”

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate.

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

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sillyblues · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh.

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you.

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands.

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes.

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked.

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

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juletheghoul · 11 days ago

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a/n: The premiere look was a literal gift from the Gods, truly fantastic stuff. With that said, of course I had to work on the next chapter of The General and his Girlwife. This isn't the end for them, there is still so much life for them and I have a whole inbox full of amazing asks (I promise I haven't forgotten about them!) to get through, and I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus eats pussy because he's a KING, lactation kink, creampie, Marcus gets emotional, pregnancy and baby stuff, childbirth and some graphic descriptions of pain, talks of infertility, **FEELINGS** let me know if I missed any!

This is the fic I referenced in this preview

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 5k (whoops!)

reblogs are appreciated

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The ritual had been completed, and a week later–life had gone back to normal. The two of you had vowed to put it out of your mind until the Gods made their intentions for you clear.

Marcus, however, was leaving; he'd been called on by the Emperor for a tour, and he had no choice but to accept.

You pouted, and he smiled.

“It is only for a short time, my love. Barely a moon's turn and I will be back in this house, and your arms.” He smiled despite your obvious displeasure, giddy with the way you clutched so greedily at him.

“I wish to follow you Marcus, I do not wish to stay here without you.” You buried your face into his neck, taking in his comforting scent greedily. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding him close while his own wrapped tightly around your waist.

“And I wish nothing more than for you to be with me, but you cannot. It is not a place for women and I would not have my beautiful,” his hands cupped your cheeks, pressing kisses to your mouth between words, “lovely, tempting wife there pulling at my attention, as well as that of the bolder men in my company.”

You sigh, knowing he would not change his mind.

“Very well. I will content myself alone.” Your tone made him laugh, and you smiled into his skin, well aware that you sounded more akin to an unruly child than a grown, married woman.

“You are spoiled, terribly misbehaved and spoiled.” His hands slipped down and grabbed at your backside, “and it is entirely my fault.”

“Yes it is.” You jut your chin out and he pressed a kiss to it. “When do you leave?”

“Preparations are being made and I depart in three days time.” He pressed another kiss to the back of your hand, smiling as he led you to sit with him. “Once I am back, I shall plan something for us. How does that sound?”

“And what shall you plan?”

“We could travel, we could go to the sea and take in the fresh air, we could do anything my love. Whatever makes you happy.” His eyes shone with the same love you felt in your very bones for him.

“I only need you for that.”

The intensity of the craving made you frown, pulling your attention from the task of refilling the cellars of your house. One minute you had been taking note of how much grain there was, how much olive oil and wine was in your stores and the next, the desire for figs and honey and fresh, ripe pomegranate was so strong it almost moved your feet towards the kitchens. You stopped yourself though, running through your mental tally of days since your last blood and willing yourself to stay calm.

“Girl, be a dear and fetch me figs and honey if you would.” You pat her hand softly, unable to stop yourself from softening the imagined blow of asking for something instead of fetching it yourself. Her eyes widened for a moment, before nodding.

“Yes Domina.” She ran off, and you ignored the looks of the women who were helping you with your accounts.

“Shall we call for a Medicus, Domina?” The eldest of them whispered in your ear, one who has always treated you with a softness that at times felt motherly, her work roughened hand landing soft on your shoulder. Nerves fluttered in your belly, a deep seeded fear threading through your very being as the memory of your loss filled your mind's eye so vividly it set your hands to shaking. But another emotion emerged, a fragile thing coloured with a hope so big it didn’t fit within your body. Without Marcus, it was difficult to navigate the swirl of different feelings fighting for dominance.

“Domina, let me call for the Medicus.” Gently, she guided you to sit, silently dismissing the staff tending to you. “I think it best you rest while we wait, I shall have him brought here to look you over.”

“Yes, yes that is what we must do. I—yes I should rest a while.” With a shaky breath you smiled a smile that did not reach your eyes, and headed towards your chamber.

When the medicus finally did arrive, the older woman held your hand, doing much to calm you in the absence of Marcus. Silently the man went about his business, checking and prodding and looking for the signs that you tentatively prayed were there.

When he raised his head and smiled with a nod, both you and the woman cried with joy.

He was eager to step foot in his house, eager to be reunited with his heart.

His blessedly peaceful campaign had gone well, the Emperor was in good spirits and for the first time in years, there was peace. He couldn’t wait to tell her how it had gone, couldn’t wait to press his kisses upon her skin.

The house was surprisingly quiet when he finally arrived, the guards were hushed, his usual attendants were nowhere to be seen and his love was not where he thought he’d find her.

When he reached their shared room things were stranger still, the gauzy linens were drawn across the windows, blocking out most of the sunlight. Incense was burning, and for a moment he feared she’d fallen ill while he’d been gone.

“My love? What is the matter?” She reclined in their bed, propped up on a nest or pillows, and her face lit up to see him. She was glowing, a soft sheen shining on her brow and for a moment he thought it might be a fever but she looked well, she looked beautiful.

“I am well Marcus, truly.” She beckoned to him, arms outstretched and he all but ran to her side, sitting close to hold her hands. “We have been blessed, my love, truly blessed.” Tears shone in her eyes, he frowned for a moment until she placed his hand on her belly, and then it felt like his heart would jump out of chest.

“You are sure?” He brought his face to her womb, pressing his lips to it while trying not to fall apart with joy. “Truly?”

“It has been confirmed, I am with child. You are to be a father, Marcus.” She shone with life, with vitality and was as beautiful as a Goddess, he couldn’t handle the joy in his heart. He wept into her belly, thanking the Gods, and praying for the health of the love of his life, and the child inside her.

Every single day of those first few weeks greeted you with fear.

Every free minute, every spare thought was filled with silent prayer, offerings were made to appease the Gods, you ate only the foods suggested by the Medicus. Marcus let you do nothing except rest, and take short, slow walks throughout the house. He was thorough with the instructions given to him, he rubbed the special oil onto the skin of your belly to help with the growth, he never left your side, he was gentle in all things.

Once you started to show, and the most dangerous period had passed, even you started to shed some of the fear. Hope, and joy filled the house and everyone shared in it. The women were eager to have a little one running around, Marcus grew more and more excited at the prospect and filled your house with things for the child. Toys and a special chair, robes and little tunics to dress them in.

“Have you thought of a name?” You asked him as he rubbed at your tired feet, easing the ache as your stomach seemed to grow before your very eyes.

“I have, but I haven’t really given any option much thought. It is best to wait until the child is born I think. And you? Is there a name you favour?”

“Well, a boy would definitely be named Marcus after you.” You smiled, imagining a miniature of him.

“And for a girl?”

“We could honour the Gods, name her Diana, I also think Aurelia is quite pretty, or Acacia and name her after her father.” Your smile grew, imagining a little darling with his soft waves, his square feet.

“Fine choices.” He smiled, moving to the other foot and you sighed, soothed by his touch.

“I will pray for a boy, to carry your name and carry on your legacy.” He shook his head.

“Give me a clever girl with your eyes, and your smile and I shall be happier than any other man alive.” He pressed a kiss to your shin. Tears sprung to your eyes, it was happening a lot of late, the baby made your emotions run rampant, his sweetness didn’t help.

“There there my love, no tears.” He soothed with gentle tone, well aware of your sensitivity, yet still as patient and loving as always.

“I cannot help it, the joy is overwhelming, the love for you, for this little being is too much to fit inside me.” You held your belly, tears falling to dampen the skin of your chest. He moved to sit beside you, and gathered you into his arms, once again soothing you beyond words could explain.

“I understand, I have been so blessed in this life it is difficult not to dwell and fear the worst. Let us just enjoy our good fortune, no more tears, it pains me to see you cry.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and you nodded silently, throat aching with emotion.

With a tenderness that only made the ache stronger, he kissed the tear stains on your skin, smiling softly. When he got to your mouth, it was a reassuring press, a silent promise to you and to the life growing inside. It helped, but your mood, your appetites changed like the winds these days and the tears turned to desire for him so fast it made your head spin.

Your tongue breached his mouth, corrupting the softness of his kiss and pulling a groan from somewhere in his chest. His hand pressed softly to your womb, while his mouth claimed yours in the softness of your shared bed.

“Marcus-” It came out half moaned, half pleading.

“Yes my love?” He breathed the words into the skin of your neck, his tongue mapping out the lines he liked to travel with his kisses, unsurprised at how quickly your passion for him was stirred with the child inside.

“Do you desire me? Do you wish for me to give you my cock?” Slowly, he exposed you, pulling the special tunic made to accommodate your belly off. The large swell, the heavy weight of your breasts, the swelling in your feet–all of the changes in your body had made you fear he would no longer find you desirable. He’d been quick to correct that assumption however.

With your lip caught between your teeth, you nodded.

Carefully, he turned you on your side, supporting the weight of your belly with pillows and linens before divesting himself of his own layers. The sight of him, skin golden and cock hardening turned your cunt to liquid. He smiled at the open desire on your face, positioning himself so he straddled the thigh resting on the bed, while lifting and holding the other, lining himself up at the mouth of your cunt.

“Are you comfortable?” Your heart swelled for a moment, smiling at him before nodding.

He took himself in hand, stroking a few times to bring himself to full mast before finally sinking in to the hilt.

“So wet.” He whispered almost to himself, eyes focused on the way your cunt swallowed his length whole, coating it in your arousal. “My pretty little wife, with her pretty little cunt.” His fingers gripped at your thigh while he found his rhythm, angling himself to find the spot–

You keened, gasping as he huffed out a satisfied laugh.

“There it is, that is the spot, yes?” He focused, hitting it like a bullseye while you clutched at the linens, too blissed out to answer but it mattered not, he knew. Sweat beaded on his brow, the muscles in his arms gleamed in the low candlelight as he panted out his exertion. His beauty so obvious, so highlighted there as he loved you that it filled the little space in your belly not filled with his child with the beating of butterfly wings.

Your fingers reached out to him, needing to feel him surround you and he smiled, leaning forward to catch the tips of them with his lips while his hips moved faster. Your arousal pooled at the base of him, soaking the fine patch of hair between your legs, as well as the curls at the base of his cock.

With a crooked grin, he reached between your legs to swirl his thumb around your swollen clit and the climax is so close your legs start to tremble.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Marcus–” It was so close, building like a fire in your hips, spreading like lightning throughout your veins, dripping from where you were joined onto the linens of your bed. Your hand crept down, joining his to press his fingers closer, to guide his movements faster until you burst around him, squeezing him so tight he groaned and slowed his steady thrusting to a grind, his groin pressed tight. Your cunt fluttered around him, pleasure blooming and flooding your body like good, strong wine and it only intensified when he started moving again, chasing his own end while you floated on your cloud. It only took him a few thrusts before he filled you, fucking his seed deep.

His chest rose and fell with each rapid breath, smiling and laughing softly as he pulled himself out.

Your combined passion smeared against your hip when he surged forward to claim your mouth in a kiss. His big hand curled around the curve of your neck softly, such a contrast to how it gripped your thigh. It slid down, smooth as silk before squeezing at your breast.

“Oh!’ The warm drip shocked you, the milk beaded at your nipple before dripping down the valley between your breasts. The bigger shock though, was how quickly he chased it with his tongue. The arousal only flared again, sharp as a knife at the moan he let out. With an almost drunk expression, he wrapped his lips around the peak, and tasted your milk straight from the source.

“Good?” Your fingers threaded through his sweat-soaked waves, cradling him close while he drank deep. His expression was almost sheepish, almost ashamed when he pulled away.

“I do not know what has come over me,” He licked at the tip, staring at the other breast longingly, “I had to taste you, it’s so sweet.” He dipped his head again, drinking from the other breast, deep, strong pulls that only made the red hot coal of desire within you burn even brighter than before. When he pulled away he was breathing hard, shocked at his own reaction.

“Did I hurt you?” He licked at sensitive peaks again, filling your brain with a fog of lust so strong you could barely think.

“No, not at all, it feels really good.” You pulled him closer, urging him to drink, while guiding his hand between your legs. With a knowing grin, he obeyed.

You knew from the moment your eyes opened in the morning, that the baby would come. There was an ache, a pulsing, a violence to its movements within your womb. The child was as impatient to emerge, as you were to give birth and finally have it whole and healthy in your arms.

With a sigh, you tried to adjust yourself, smiling as Marcus pressed himself closer in his sleep, his big hand holding the swell.

“I think today is the day, hmm?” You whispered to your belly, it kicked hard enough to make you wince.

“Gods above, I felt that one, this child will be strong.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling another sigh from you. “How are you feeling?”

“I think it will be today, it feels like the baby has moved lower.” You did your best to rise, groaning before he all but lifted you to sit upright.

“I will make the preparations, the midwife is ready and waiting for our summons.” He rose quickly, making you laugh with his urgency.

“Peace Marcus, it will not be right this second, but I do feel it mightl be today.” You stood, gingerly padding towards him, waving away his frown of concern. “Walking is good for me, it will help me with my labours.” He still frowned, meeting you halfway and squeezing you as tightly as he could without causing you pain.

“I will be with you, at your side the whole time.” There was a small tremble in his voice you did not recognize, a nervous aura about him that seemed to bolster you. How curious, you thought, that his moment of fear, is my moment of courage.

“The midwife and her attendants will be there, most men wait until the child is born–”

“I am not most men. I will be with you, holding your hand and wiping at your brow. This is a battle I cannot fight for you, but no one will keep me out of that room.” He pressed his face into your neck and you softened, his fear was justified. Many children did not survive their coming into the world, many mothers died alongside them. You said nothing, nodding softly as his fingers dug into your robes.

The sun made its way across the sky and as it did your pains grew stronger. Cramps painful enough to steal your breath would squeeze at you like a fist for a few minutes before releasing you. The midwife walked with you, she took note of how much time passed between each attack, readying the birthing stool as well as her oils, her sponges and enough water and linens to be able to tend to both you and the baby.

The sun was kissing the horizon when the water came, spilling all over your feet like a tidal wave and sending Marcus into a cold panic.

The midwife did her examinations while your body ripped itself in two. With barely contained screams, and sweat dripping down your brow you got into position, doing your best to focus on your breathing while Marcus kept his word, silently wiping at your brow, and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you could.

“It must be now, push.” The midwife and one of her girls were in place, moving your robes aside to have access and you did what you had to do. You pushed.

It was agony.

It was liquid fire burning its way through your body, this baby wasn’t being born, it was clawing and tearing its way out of you.

Marcus whispered into your ear, encouragingly, lovingly, patiently guiding you to breathe, to not give up. He reminded you how strong you were, how loved and how soon it would be over. How could it be over soon? It felt as though this pain had been with you at your own birth, all of your life this pain has been here, it had to be. Hours, days? You could not tell how long it had been.

You cried, you begged for it to end, you willed it to be so; shouted and screamed that it hurt too much, that it was too hard and that you could not do it. You told them that the baby would not come, that you could not do this, you were not strong enough. You screamed that this would surely kill you, you would tear in two and die.

“You will not die, you can do this, my love. Bear down, and push.” His gaze was steely, focused and firm and it filled you with courage.

With a sob and a scream you pushed, and pushed. You pushed so much you thought you’d burst and then pushed more still. Until finally, blessedly, the baby came out.

“You have done it! You have done it my love, my beautiful, strong, courageous girl, you have done it!” Tears were in his eyes as he held onto your limp form, but he was not looking at you.

“Why does the child not cry?” It felt like you’d drunk too much wine, the relief from the pain so great you would faint soon, yet still, silence. There was a lot of movement, a terrifying moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity and despite Marcus all but carrying you and laying you back to rest, no one met your eye.

“Answer me, Marcus, why does the baby not cry? Give it to me! Is it a boy? Is it a girl?” Tears flowed and fear swelled like bile crawling up your throat until a cry loud enough to hurt your ears sounded and the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“She is a beautiful, healthy and whole baby girl.” Swaddled and screaming, the bundle was placed at your breast. Marcus sobbed, openly and loudly into your shoulder, his big hand covering her tiny head while you looked at her in awe. She had so much hair, such strong lungs, such a force that you laughed, still crying.

“Yes my little love, I know, you fought so hard.” You pressed a kiss to her little brow, doing your best to soothe her.

She took to nursing your breast quickly, a good sign the midwife said and while she and her girls set everything to rights, you could focus on nothing but her. Her little hands clutched at you, taking a few greedy pulls before falling asleep, milk smeared all over her perfect face.

“She is utterly perfect, she has your hands.” Marcus lay beside you, his gaze on her as though entranced.

“She has your hunger.” You smiled, the euphoria eclipsing everything. It was so hard to stay awake though, the birth had taken so much out of you.

“Give her to me and rest. I will be here with you.” With gentle hands, he took her, managing to put her onto his chest without waking her and before he’d even fully settled, sleep had claimed you.

She had fought, both of them had.

His girls had battled, fought tooth and nail and had come through victorious, though his love had paid a price. She’d bled, bled enough that it had frightened him, chilled him to the bone and when the midwife pulled him aside he already knew what she would say. There would be no more children, another birth might kill her.

He mourned the fact that his daughter would have no siblings, no other children to fill this house alongside her but his wife would live. That was all that mattered.

He watched her as she slept, glowing still, if a little wan, weakened by her labours but beautiful all the same. He could no longer imagine living this life without her, he could not see the joy in anything without her there beside him and now his daughter held the other half of his heart. She was the fruit of their union, she was the parts of them that would live on, the living embodiment of his good fortune and just the sight of her filled his eyes with tears.

He pressed his lips to her little brow, smiling at the furrow in them when he jostled her, so like her mother it made him cry all the harder.

This was all that mattered, his entire world was in this bed and he was loath to ever be separated from them again.

He didn’t know which name to call her, they’d never settled on anything. Acacia didn’t seem right, how could he name her after himself when she so resembled her mother already? Aurelia, that was pretty, Diana too. He would wait though, let her have the last say. He basked in the glow of the candles, in the comfort of his wife’s warm weight beside him, in the small weight at his chest and said another silent prayer in thanks.

She was so big already, three whole months and her growth never ceased to amaze you. She still looked tiny in her fathers arms, his broadness compared to her small body always made you smile, especially because for her he was less the brutal Roman General, and more of a soft, lump of honey. She ruled him implicitly, her every cry, her every happy sound was the reason he breathed.

“My love, I need to change her, those little robes are covered in milk.” There was no bite in your words, there could be no anger or annoyance in you at his adoration of her.

“Yes, yes you are right, she must be changed.” He smiled, bringing her to you. She was tired, yawning and fussing, fighting off her midday slumber with a fierceness that made you laugh.

“Yes yes I know Diana, one moment and then your father will rock you.” You cooed at her, making quick work of the change and taking the opportunity to wipe her down with a damp cloth before returning her where she slept the best, her fathers chest.

Once he took her and sat at his favoured chair, she was out, little fist curled under her chin. This was his favourite, and yours. Watching her sleep peacefully, safe and loved within your arms, or his.

“I never grow tired of studying her, already her little face is changing.”

He pressed his lips to her head, breathing in the clean, baby milk smell of her.

“She will have your hair, already it curls when I wash it.” You thread your fingers through the fine wisps of it softly, smiling to imagine her older with curls flowing down her back.

“She has your look, your look exactly. I am still in awe that we have created something so perfect.” His hand took yours and brought it to his lips, you bent to press yours to his forehead.

“As am I, how blessed we are to have her, to have each other.”

When he slipped into bed, you pressed your fingers to your lips, eyes wide to warn him.

“She is finally asleep, we must not wake her.” Your whisper was frantic, and he nodded.

“Yes my lady, I will be silent as the grave.” He pulled you close, whispering in your ear before pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.

“So long as you can keep your voice down when I love you.” His hands pawed at you but you were so tired, it was hard to reconcile the intense want for him, with the ache of the day settling heavy on your bones.

“My love, my mind desires this, but my body is so tired.” You pouted at him, mildly upset to deny him.

“Shall I use my mouth? You can lay back and relax, I can take care of you—my lovely girl deserves pleasure, and rest.” He smiled, undeterred and you could not help but smile.

“And it does not bother you that I will just lay here? Most likely asleep before you have come up for air?” His grey waves were so soft when you raked your fingers through them.

“It pleases me to please you, you are the mother of my child and the love of my life, I would do anything for you.” He kissed your fingers before spreading your legs wide with the breadth of his shoulders. “Do you wish for me to stop?” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and then the soft patch of hair at your mound, before kissing the lips of your sex.

“No, I do not wish for you to stop.” You spread your legs a little wider and his smile grew bigger, letting a big glob of his own spit fall onto your sex before chasing it with his tongue.

He is focused, honed in with his gaze and with his tongue on your clit, flat wide licks from where your arousal drips up to the bundle of nerves and it’s like a spike of arousal pierced the very heart of you every time he swiped his tongue over it. Warm, wet and perfect, he swirled around it in time with your heartbeat, fanning the embers burning in your belly for him.

The fingers that softly scratched at his scalp, now curled into the waves holding him in place as you struggled to keep your mouth shut, but he made it so difficult. The ache building as his brow creased with concentration and his own excitement. His own hand crept down and grasped his cock, stroking at it in time with the delicious circuit of his tongue. That he gained so much pleasure from this only heightened your own, and soon the knot tightened.

Muscles clenched, all of your body a taut string waiting to snap with every pass, every strong lick. You pinched at a nipple, pulling his eyes up to find yours and he let out a low groan, the vibration of it pushed you over the edge with a silent gasp, and empty rhythmic clenches around nothing. He bestowed a final, filthy kiss to your overstimulated clit before moving quickly to get into position. With the shine of exertion glinting on his golden skin he knelt between your legs, pumping at himself furiously before silently, violently spilling onto your still fluttering sex. Hot, milky splashes of him covering it while he gripped at your thigh hard enough to bruise.

He caught his breath, smearing himself in his own mess between your legs past the point of discomfort. He was so beautiful like this, with the flush of passion lighting up his cheeks and his ears, spreading down his chest.

He smiled, winking at you before he grabbed the cloth from the basin and cleansing the mess he had made. You wanted to hold and be held by him, but by the time he was done, you were already asleep.

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reasonsforhope · 2 months ago

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"Abortion will again be legal in North Dakota after a state court ruled yesterday [September 12, 2024] that the state’s near-total abortion ban is unconstitutional. The case challenging the ban was brought by the Center for Reproductive Rights and its partners on behalf of a North Dakota abortion provider and its physicians.

Abortion has been illegal in North Dakota since April 2023, when the ban took effect.

“This is a win for reproductive freedom, and means it is now much safer to be pregnant in North Dakota,” says Meetra Mehdizadeh, staff attorney at the Center. “Hospitals and doctors no longer have their hands tied and can provide abortions to patients with complications.”

According to the ruling, North Dakota’s abortion ban violates the state constitution due to its narrow and vague exceptions and because the ban violates the right to reproductive autonomy.

The opinion by Judge Bruce Romanickstated, “The North Dakota Constitution guarantees each individual, including women, the fundamental right to make medical judgments affecting his or her bodily integrity, health, and autonomy, in consultation with a chosen health care provider free from government interference. This section necessarily and more specifically protects a woman’s right to procreative autonomy—including to seek and obtain a pre-viability abortion.”

[Note: In a delicious irony, this is probably one of the state constitutional amendments that passed as a "right to healthcare choice" in an effort to gut Obamacare. Whoops! Backfired! Source)

Tammi Kromenaker, Director of Red River Women’s Clinic, a plaintiff in the case, said, “Today’s decision gives me hope. I feel like the court heard us when we raised our voices against a law that not only ran counter to our state constitution but was too vague for physicians to interpret and which prevented them from providing the high-quality care that our communities are entitled to.”

“Abortion is lifesaving health care; it should not be a crime. I look forward to a new future in North Dakota and hope our lawmakers will finally give up on their crusade to force pregnancy on people against their will,” added Kromenaker.

The abortion ban will be enjoined in the coming days and the ruling is likely to be appealed...

The Center is currently litigating several more cases seeking to clarify the “medical emergency” exceptions under state abortion bans and to broaden the circumstances in which physicians can provide abortions. The cases were brought on behalf of physicians and dozens of women denied abortion care despite facing dangerous and severe pregnancy complications. Read about those medical exceptions cases here."

-via Center for Reproductive Rights, September 13, 2024

#abortion #abortion is healthcare #abortion rights #bodily autonomy #reproductive rights #abortion bans #united states #us politics #north dakota

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holdmytesseract · 2 months ago

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Dad-to-be!Daryl fighting tooth and nail to keep the reader—who’s water had broken while they were on a walking around in the Hilltop—safe while trying to get her back to Alexandria so that Siddiq and Carol can help with the delivery of their little one. (Plus maybe the post-delivery fluff that ensues when Daryl and reader get their first moments alone with their baby.)

No pressure to write this! I just saw your post asking for dad!Daryl requests and had this idea, and thought I’d throw it your way. Love you whether you write this or not. 💜

In the Eye of the Storm

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You go into labor while staying at the renewed Sanctuary. Daryl has to safely get you back home to Alexandria, of course - through a thunderstorm...

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, pregnancy, childbirth, baby things, mentions of blood, weapons, quite a bit angst, fluff, protective!Daryl

I tried to write this as accurate as possible. I'm no expert, heh.

Set in the beginning of season 9!

Word Count: 4,5k (whoops)

a/n: I'm not kidding when I say that I literally pounced that request. Gods, I loved to write this! Thanks for requesting, @dixons-sunshine ! I hope I did this justice! 🥹

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Daryl had a critical gaze directed at the darkening sky above him. The wind had picked up; bringing dark clouds over the Sanctuary. A thunderstorm was approaching - and fast.

Unbeknownst to him, had the archer started to chew on the inside of his bottom lip; causing you to gently squeeze his side. "Earth to Mr. Dixon," you giggled; trying to get his attention. "You okay, Dar?" The archer blinked and lowered his gaze back to you - his wife, who was neatly tucked against his side on a walk through the yard of the renewed Sanctuary; past the not yet growing crops which had been planted. You smiled up at him - slightly grimaced, but you smiled. He shook his head; "I shoulda been askin' you tha', sunshine..." eyes drifting to your prominent baby bump. You took a deep breath, but nodded. "Just Braxton Hicks, you know..."

Daryl's eyes drifted from your eyes to your (yet) unborn baby and back; a mix of worry and fear swimming in his blue-greyish orbs. You could tell. "Ya been havin' them already the whole day... Since we got up this mornin'. Ya sure this ain't the real thing?" Now you were the one shaking your head. "No. I promise, we're okay." "A'righ'." The archer jutted his chin towards the factory and looked back up in the sky. "Let's get ya back inside," he prompted and gave your hip a soft squeeze, before he started to walk; urging you on to follow. You nodded and scrunched your nose. "Yeah... Looks like rain."

With the first roll of thunder, Daryl closed the door behind you and him, without his hand leaving your body for even a second. He was so adamant to always be by your side; steady you and help you walk, it was ridiculously cute. It made you fall in love with the archer even more - not knowing it was even possible.

You giggled; one hand on the small of your back, the other on top of your belly. "Babe, you know I can stand on my own, right?" "Don care. Want ya close. 'Specially round 'ere... Ain't trustin' 'em..." You knew of course what he meant. The smile on your face immediately vanished; replaced by a concerned frown.

You understood Rick's intention; wanting to make Carl's last wish true. You'd do the same for your own child - within a heartbeat. You just didn't understand why Rick had charged Daryl of all people with the supervision of the Sanctuary. Sure, he was his bother, his right-hand-man, the one he possibly trusted most besides Michonne, but... After everything Daryl has been through here? After all the psychological torture? You knew it wasn't easy for your husband to be here. Even though he didn't say anything. You could feel it.

You took a step towards the archer; invading his space. Placing a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, you scanned his face. "Daryl... You... You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be the one having to do this. I'll have a-" You stopped dead in your sentence; eyes widening and heart leaping into your throat at the feeling you had just experienced. Daryl was immediately on alert; completely ignoring what you had just said. "Y/N?! Wha's goin' on?!" His free hand came to rest on the bump which was his child instantly.

You swallowed hard; taking a step away from him again and looked down yourself. A prominent wet patch was spreading across the crotch and inner thighs of your maternity sweatpants. "I-I think..." Your husband's eyes followed yours quick; realisation dawning on him right away. It could mean only two things...

1) You peed yourself.

2) Your water broke.

The archer begged internally to whatever force above that it was not the latter. "Please tell me ya peed yerself..." Daryl mumbled under his shaky breath; already slightly on edge. It wasn't a fortunate moment for the baby to make their appearance... You were at the Sanctuary, for God's sake! Rosita and Eugene were the only one here you could truly trust. Not much medical supplies and even less people who knew how to birth a baby either.

"I-I'm honestly not sure, Dar..." He nodded; trying to keep his calm. "A'right. Let's, uh, get ya in a fresh pair of pants 'n check?" "Uh.Huh," you answered; nervously nibbling on your lip as well. You actually didn't want to 'do this to Daryl' now, but it wasn't like you could take a pick. It wasn't in your hands... It was in the tiny hands of the peanut living in your belly.

You felt your husband's strong arm around your waist once again; supporting you as best as he could and helping you to walk through the darkish, grey hallways of the 'former' enemies hideout and towards your shared room.

After the sweatpants and your panties were not much longer on your body, you and Daryl realised quickly that you did certainly not pee yourself. It was a different... substance - which meant the one thing the both of you hoped it wouldn't be... Your water broke.

"O-Oh, fuck, that's..." You cut off your own sentence; "W-What are we, uh, going to do now?" swallowing hard and balancing on one foot, while you gripped Daryl's shoulder as he helped you step inside a fresh pair of underwear and sweatpants.

The archer looked up at you; panic swimming in his blue-grey orbs. You could tell that his mind was working on overdrive to find an answer to your question. "I-I dunno, sunshine, I-" He inhaled a deep breath; eyes darting around the room. "Ya can't have the peanut here... 'S no doctor 'round. I ain't risking tha'..." Daryl shook his head and stood up; palms immediately lading on your hips. "W-We gotta get ya back to Alexandria. To Siddiq. Now." You nodded; clenching your jaw at the incoming contraction - and Daryl noticed, of course. "'N we gotta time 'em contractions. C'mon."

Trusting your husband and his decision making blindly, you quickly threw a few things you might needed in Daryl's beige backpack, while he was informing Rosita about the situation you found yourself in.

It didn't take the archer more than a few minutes to return to your side; giving you a helping hand and finally walking you back to the door, which led to the yard - but once he opened it, a harsh breeze hit him (and you) instantly; rain splattering across your faces.

Fuck... The thunderstorm... Daryl had totally forgotten about the weather conditions; too occupied with you and the baby. You did, too.

"Fuckin' shit," the archer cursed under his breath; trying to shield you from the rain with his broad body. "Well, that's gonna be a fun car ride, eh?" You halfway joked; trying to lift the mood, but without success. "I'll get the truck; park as close as somehow possible. No matter wha'... We have ta get ya back home."

The Sanctuary had borrowed a truck from the Hilltop for moving things and other 'heavy' stuff. It was the only car option Daryl got. Of course he couldn't take his bike. Hell no.

"Ya wait inside. Don want ya ta get wet 'n cold." You nodded; bracing yourself beside the door against the wall. "Ya good bein' alone?" Once again you nodded; giving him another half-smile. "Go." He gave you a last once over, before he stepped out in the rain to get the truck.

Soaked to the bones, he helped you down the stairs then and outside; sitting you in the passenger seat of the truck; not letting go of you for even a second. "Y-You're soaked, baby..." You noticed with a furrowed brow; concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you-" Your husband immediately interrupted you; shaking his head and squeezing your hand. "Doesn't matter. This ain't 'bout me. 'S 'bout ya 'n the baby."

You knew that arguing would be just a waste of time. It wouldn't help. And honestly were you way too tensed and stressed to discuss. So you said nothing.

"Ya comfortable, sunshine? Tha' okay fer now?" His voice was on edge. You could see how hard he was trying to not lose it. This spurred you even more on to keep a cool head yourself. After all, this was your first birth. Your first child. You wanted to panic and give into the nervousness, concern and fear, but you knew you couldn't. You had to try at least. For Daryl.

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Y-Yeah, I- We're good, I-I think. Thanks, babe." The small smile he gave you was sloshing over with nervosity and concern, but he tried as well.

Daryl quickly rounded the car and got inside the driver's seat; immediately starting the engine. "Let's get ya home." He started to drive, while you tried to focus on your breathing like Carol taught you. Both your hands splayed on your big baby bump; feeling the subtle movements of the child within you.

Some time passed until the next contraction hit you. You breathed through it; grimacing. "Damnit..." You gasped once the waves of pain subsided; noticing how Daryl gazed back and forth between a watch around his wrist you never saw before and the street. "Been 'bout forty minutes since the last one." You swallowed hard. "T-That's already quite close, isn't it?" He shrugged his shoulder. "I dunno, but... Feels like it." You shifted slightly in your seat and placed a hand on Daryl's hand, which was gripping the gear shift for dear life. "We're gonna make it, 'kay? Everything's gonna be okay," you tried to reassure Daryl - and yourself. You could see how he chewed on his bottom lip. "Shouldn't 'ave taken ya with me... Shoulda left ya back home where ya 'n the baby 'r safe 'n taken care of. Hell, I shouldn't 'ave left at all... 'S my fault tha' we gotta do this now."

You immediately shook your head and gave his hand another squeeze. "Dar, this is everything, but your fault. I was the one encouraging you to go... And I practically begged you to take me along, because I can't stand to be away from you - especially now. I knew the risk, but I made the decision. If anyone's to blame, it's me." Your husband just scoffed at your words and just as he actually wanted to answer, the sight of the street a few miles ahead forced him to stop the truck.

The thunderstorm hadn't calmed down in the slightest; was raging on and had caused a tree to fall and land in the middle of the street. "Shit... 'S too big ta move it... We have ta take a different road." His eyes landed on you, just like his hand on your swollen belly. "Can ya both hang on a lil' while longer? 'S a stupid question, ain't it?" You shook your head and gave him the most convincing smile you could muster in that moment. "It's not. I-I'll try... Right, peanut?" You addressed your unborn baby. "We'll try."

Unfortunately wasn't the fallen tree the only obstacle you had to overcome on your rushed journey to Alexandria... The storm was going on and definitely took its toll on the nature. And that wasn't the only problem... The night had settled over the world and the dead weren't exactly a help as well, and at some point were your contractions only fifteen minutes apart... It was a race against the time now - and your upcoming nerves. The closer you got to actually birthing your child, the worse it became. Fifteen minutes apart and you didn't even know if everything was fine and going the way it should down there. It was excruciating.

"Sonofabitch," you suddenly heard Daryl exclaim, which snapped you out of your thoughts. Lifting your gaze, you instantly understood what caused his small outburst... A few walkers were exactly in your way; stuck in the rain soaked, muddy ground. "Have ta get rid of 'em, sunshine," Daryl stated and already moved to unsheathe his knives from their confines; his barely dried clothes about to get soaked all over again. "I-I can help-" "Hell nah," he cut you off immediately; scoffing. "Yer stayin' right here inside the truck where ya 'r safe. I ain't riskin' a damn thing. Gotta keep ya safe." You nodded in defeat; realising once more that arguing wouldn't get you anywhere.

Daryl gave you a stern but loving look, before he took a deep breath and exited the truck. Anxiously, you watched your husband fighting off the undead threat. Sure, most of them were kinda stuck, but the noises had attracted more walkers... The headlights of the truck provided enough light for you to see what was going on in front of you, but not besides and certainly not behind the vehicle. The relentless rain made it difficult to see straight as well, and when another, much worse contraction hit you and the pain managed to blur your vision entirely, you lost sight of Daryl. Sweat was dripping over your brow as you couldn't hold back the scream which wanted to break free from your lips; hands clutching your baby bump. "O-Oh f-fuck..." Your fingers clenched into fists as you tried to breathe through the contraction. Agonisingly slow subsided the pain; leaving you breathless. You looked around through the windows; trying to find your husband. But you couldn't see him. It was quiet. Except for the running engine and the rain drumming down on the truck.

"D-Daryl?!" You called out; knowing very well that he couldn't hear you. Uneasiness crept up in you; threatening to cut off your airways and sent your anxiety skyrocketing. It didn't help that you were on edge already... What if something happened to him? What if he got bit? What if he...? Your brain already conjured the worst case scenarios, as suddenly two pale hands slammed against the window pane beside you; the tow curling growl almost giving you a heart attack. "Fucking hell!" You squeaked and clutched your now rapidly beating heart.

The hands clawed and scratched at the wet glass - but to your sheer endless relief didn't they stay long. With a dull thud hit the undead man's skull the window; blood splattering everywhere, before it got slowly washed away. The hands stilled, before they entirely disappeared. Blinking, you watched it happen, still somewhat caught up in your thoughts. But then, the driver's door got opened and slammed quickly shut again. A familiar grunt urged to your ears - and you could've cried of relief and happiness.

"Daryl!" You more or less whimpered; shifting in your seat as good as you could and turned to him; taking in his water and blood soaked appearance. Some blood was on his cheeks and water dripped down his long, brown hair. You reached for him; grabbed onto his wet sweatshirt and slippery vest. "A-Are you okay? I-I lost sight of you a-and..." You hiccuped; taking a deep breath. The archer immediately nodded and leaned in for a sweet, soft kiss; letting you feel that he was alive and well, before he moved to take your hands in his bigger ones. "'M good, sunshine. 'S a'right. 'M here." His blue eyes scanned your body then; lips pressed together in worry. "Wha' 'bout you?"

You swallowed hard. "H-Had another contraction..." His eyes widened. "Darlin', you had one barely ten minutes ago..." "I know." Daryl looked at you a few moments longer, before he gently let go of your hands and gripped the steering wheel instead. "We gotta keep movin'," he mumbled and kept on driving - and you knew he was right.

Luckily the truck didn't get stuck in the muddy mess ahead of you... That would've been the cherry on top.

It took you longer than planned to drive back to Alexandria, but in the end you finally made it - most likely just in time. You swore you were never that happy before to see the familiar gates of the place you called home. Daryl felt the same. You could tell.

The thunder and lighting had ceased by now. It was still raining, but not as bad. Due to the bad weather conditions was nobody on watch, but the archer knew that at least one person was positioned up in the windmill; looking out for threats from up there. So, he gave whoever was up there a sign; flashing the truck head lights three times and signalling that friends were standing in front of the walls and not enemies.

"Jus' a few minutes longer, sunshine. Almost there," Daryl tried to reassure you as he gently squeezed your hand. You just nodded; occupied with taking deep breaths.

Moments later, the gates got opened for Daryl to drive through, which he immediately did and headed straight for the infirmary; parking the car as close as he could get.

The approaching headlights must've caught Siddiq's attention, since the doctor immediately went to the door; trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He watched the archer quickly rounding the vehicle; getting soaked in the rain a third time. "Daryl?!" Siddiq called out; switching on his porch light. "What-" Daryl didn't let the man finish; cut him off mid sentence as he opened the door and helped you out. "Need yer help! Y/N's in labor!"

Siddiq didn't need more information. He knew and was immediately on high alert. The doctor opened the door and let the both of you in; instantly helping Daryl to steady you. Usually, he would've asked about your condition, but Siddiq knew the moment he saw you. "How far apart are the contractions?" You wanted to answer, but Daryl did for you. "'Bout six minutes." The black haired man nodded, "You got here just in time, I'd say." and helped you sit on the bed inside the room he had led you and Daryl in. "I'm afraid we have to get you out of these..." Siddiq nodded at your sweatpants. "Daryl, would you...?" Your husband's eyes were locked on you as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I got it. C'mon, sunshine."

While Daryl helped you shimmy down your pants and panties, Siddiq prepared some things he needed in the upcoming hour(s)... Towels, gloves and some other medical stuff.

"Alright. I have to check on you. Is that alright?" Siddiq asked carefully; knowing how... protective and territorial the other present man in the room could get. You nodded; trying your hardest to not scream due to the contraction you were going through. The doctor noticed and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. "Deep breaths, Y/N. We got this, okay?" You gave your friend another nod, before he went to check as soon as your contraction subsided again.

"You're about eight centimetres dilated, I'd say." "'N tha' means?" Daryl spoke up with your hand neatly tucked in his, as he was standing by your side. "Two more and she'll be able to start pushing. Means, your baby will see the light of day in the next one or two hours." The colour visibly drained from the archer's face. He knew that he'd be a dad soon, but... That soon? You, on the contrary just groaned and threw your head against the pillow. "Thank fuck. I want this to be over... Hurts like a bitch - and I finally want to hold my baby."

Siddiq witnessed both very different reactions and tried to hide a smile; quickly deciding to give the soon-to-be-dad a little task to keep him from freaking out.

"Daryl?" The archer's gaze lifted from where he was staring at the floor and gnawing nervously on his thumb. "Could you get Carol? I might need her assistance." Daryl frowned in confusion, but the feeling which started to flood his veins was happiness. "She's here?" Siddiq nodded with a smile. "Yes. She was on the road and decided to stay for a few days. Might as well call it providence." The man nodded; shaking a few bangs of wild brown curls from his face and nibbled on his bottom lip again, but turned to you; needing your permission. "'S a'right if I go 'n get 'er, darlin'?" You nodded; sweat doting your forehead. "As long as you'll come back to me... Go. I'm in good hands." Your husband gave you a loving look and gently squeezed your hand, before he let go to get himself soaked in rain again - for the nth time... Not that he cared, though.

The archer didn't even had to ask where to look for his best friend. He knew. After all has she been sharing a house with the both of you, before she moved to the Kingdom. Where else to look but there

Opening the main door, he stepped inside; calling out for his friend. "Carol?!" It didn't take long for the grey haired woman to peak out from the kitchen in the hallways; frowning. The frown immediately vanished, though, when she saw who the 'intruder' was... "Daryl?" A bright smile darted over her face, as she quickly bridged the distance to hug her best friend. They hadn't seen each other in a while after all.

"Ya good?" He simply asked; definitely enjoying the embrace of the woman he got luckily stuck with since the very beginning of this shit show. "Yeah, I am. What about you? And especially Y/N?" Daryl instantly retreated from the hug; a frightening, but also happy look on his face. "W-Well, uh... S-She's in labor. 'S why I brought 'er back here... Siddiq sent me ta ask for yer help..." Carol's eyes widened, but she immediately scrambled for the kitchen to turn off the stove. "Of course, I'm coming to help! Can't miss my best friend becoming a daddy, can I?"

Daryl blinked. "Best friend? Really?" Carol ignored his sceptical question and grabbed him by the shoulders instead; turning him around and maneuvering him towards the door. There were more important things to do now than discuss that.

Siddiq's predictions had been quite on spot. About one and an half hour, quite a few painful contractions and several tiring and debilitating pushes later, you finally held your baby in your arms. Since the doctor's announcement that you gave birth to a - as far as he could tell, healthy little girl, Daryl's mind had gone blank. He was physically present, but mentally, he was somewhere lost in a haze; trying to process the life-changing information... A girl. His daughter. He was a father now. A father!

Of course, you noticed. Carol and Siddiq did, too and all of you decided to give him the space and time he needed right now; just letting him stare at the white wall across your bed.

Only once the afterbirth was done, you getting cleaned up as well as the baby, the umbilical cord cut by Carol (Daryl would've most likely fainted if he was asked to do it. He already looked as white as a ghost...), a few further instructions and information shared by both your friends, and your newborn daughter wrapped up in a diaper and a slightly too big beige romper suit with cute teddy bears on it, you decided to try to guide your husband out of the haze he still was in. Especially now that you were given some time alone...

"Daryl?" You called out softly; voice barely above a whisper to not startle him. He didn't react, so you tried again... Same result. Freeing a hand from the baby tucked against your chest, you reached out to gently touch his arm. "Babe..." You whispered; letting your palm glide down the length of the limb and brushing the clammy skin of his hand. "Hey..." That seemed to finally do the trick...

The archer blinked and redirected his glance; eyes focusing on you instead. "'M sorry, sunshine, I-" His words quickly died in his throat, when he finally saw his daughter nestled against you; greedily suckling on your exposed right breast and making the cutest little noises he had ever heard. You smiled tiredly and slipped your fingers through his; giving them a soft squeeze. "Your baby girl, Daryl... Your daughter..." He swallowed and lifted his free hand; almost hesitatingly hovering over the infant, before his pointer finger came into contact with her soft cheek.

Daryl gasped; releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. You watched the interaction with loving eyes; only now noticing that the small girl had stopped nursing and was wriggling around in your hold instead. Her eyes were closed and she had her legs pulled up against her belly; tiny fingers clenching and unclenching.

Your husband had cupped her head now, which was covered in a dark brown fuzz. "She's perfect, darlin'..." Daryl whispered after a long moment; smiling that smile you loved so much.

"Do you want to hold her?"

That question caused Daryl's hand to immediately stop caressing his daughter's head. "I-I..." He stammered; nervous, yet with such a strong urge. "Y-Yeah, I... I wanna hold 'er." You patted the empty space on the bed beside you. "C'mere, then." The archer followed your 'command' and switched from the chair to sit on the bed. Only now did you notice that he hadn't changed yet and that the shirt he wore was still damp. Worry roared to life within you. You didn't want him to catch a cold or even something worse...

"Baby, you should change... I don't want you to get sick..." Daryl shook his head. "Do want ta leave ya..." "I know..." You bit your lip; uncertain if you should propose the suggestion in your mind or not. "Then, uh... How about you take the shirt and vest off? Carol and Siddiq won't be here for at least another hour and skin-on-skin contact with your daughter would be good, too... Helps her bond with you." You gave him a soft smile. "It's your decision, though. I won't force you to do anything."

You could practically see the gears turning in your husband's head, but in the end he nodded and started to peel the damp clothes off his upper body. Once he was shirtless, you started to transfer the little girl over to her father. "Make sure to support her head, Dar," you instructed him; noticing his eager nod, and suddenly was the infant tucked in the crook of his arm. She snuggled against his bare chest; definitely enjoying the warmth of his skin.

And suddenly the world stopped to turn around Daryl.

He gazed down at the tiny human being he helped create - and she was the most wonderful, beautiful creature his eyes had ever seen (besides you, of course). Love flooded his veins; heart threatening to slosh over with the warm feeling.

Yes... He'd rip the world apart to keep her safe. Anything. Just to make sure his girls were protected.

You watched your husband and newborn daughter; a tired, but happy look on your face, and you realised soon, that everything had been worth it... Everything you've gone through. Every obstacle you and Daryl had to overcome, just to get here - to experience this moment. She was worth it.

You smiled. Yeah... You could definitely get used to Daryl being a dad...

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

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dadvans · 1 month ago

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heavy loads

2.6k of self-indulgent lactation!kink bucktommy for @rcmclachlan based on baby probie-verse, where bucktommy have a whoops baby

It wasn’t a shock to find Evan, up from his nap, in the laundry room when Tommy got home from running errands. Tommy went to go peek in on Nora—still Probie to the 118 and Miss Nora to Evan’s parents and sister, a toss up between those and Mashed Potato or Babygirl between Evan and Tommy, or Miss Piggy when she was feeding and Evan thought he was out of earshot—who was conked out in her crib. He silently snuck back from her crib to return to Evan in the laundry room and ask if he needed any help.

Four weeks and some change since bringing Nora into the world, and it was laundry out of everything that had become the main Sisyphean task to own their lives. They’d given up on cloth diapers almost immediately, but between spit-ups and changes and their basic day-to-day, it felt like there was constant, never-ceasing mountain of laundry. And Evan kept leaking.

He’d always had well-defined pecs before getting pregnant, but now he had full on tits. Just perfect handfuls, in Tommy’s opinion, but after the first few weeks the only time he wasn’t complaining about them was when he was feeding Nora.

When he was feeding Nora, all frustration or anxiety melted away into dopey bliss. Evan loved that his body was producing something good for someone else, sustaining life. “S’what I was made for,” he would say, blinking sleepily down at Nora who made sweet, little noises as she tried to suck him dry. It was a welcome difference from the weeks leading up to her arrival, when he’d been so nervous, voice shaky as he worried out loud about faulty parts, that his body wouldn’t make enough or that she wouldn’t latch, right up until she did there in the hospital on the first try.

“Babygirl’s still snoozing,” Tommy said, stuffing a hand in Evan’s back pocket while Evan leaned down to catch some stray wet socks for the dryer. “You need any help?”

Evan made a familiar disgruntled noise at the back of his throat, which meant he didn’t want to ask, but yes. So, Tommy squeezed his ass twice through the denim in a way that meant move. Evan rolled up, tossed the socks in and slammed the dryer door a little too quickly before scooting to the side. His emotions had always run high, Tommy knew, and the hormones during pregnancy and now made him even quicker to anger. In all honesty, Tommy still had to check himself when feeling annoyed about it, but it helped now when Evan twisted to let Tommy’s hand slide out of his pocket and catch on his hip. So,

“Hey,” Tommy said instead. “Hey.”

“We need to do, uh, sheets. Again,” Evan clarified, jaw tight, waving at the still-full hamper and half-emptied washing machine. He smiled like it hurt. “Passed out for a half hour and I totally soaked through them again. And I know I could leave it, let it dry, I’m putting a towel down anyway, but we already had a full load—“

“Evan.” Tommy didn’t shut him up with a kiss, but with a gentle squeeze. He’d found out that Evan’s tendency to pass out face down and sprawled out on any surface had not been fixed, but had simply laid dormant while he was pregnant, and he was up to his old habits again, which now had consequences. “I’ll take over in here. I grabbed you some more of those prebiotic sodas you’re obsessed with, if you want one.”

Evan softened. “Ginger lime?”

“Yeah, baby, ginger lime.” Tommy gave him another squeeze. “So, get out of here and try not to give yourself heartburn while I finish loading the rest, okay?”

He finished loading the wash, and—poor baby, he thought—the sheets really were soaked through already. Both machines going, he closed the door behind him as he left and for one blissful second got to enjoy the sight of Evan settling down on the living room couch with his soda before Nora’s crying from the next room cracked through the silence like thunder.

Evan sighed, and he instantly crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head back for a second with his eyes closed. The soda can in his hand crinkled in his grip before his wrist went limp.

Before Tommy could offer, Evan said, “Trust me. I got this one.”

Tommy started re-making their bed late evening. Evan came in after leading Nora’s nighttime ritual, slingshotting his nursing tank from the doorway into the hamper, before finding a clean one in the dresser. Instead of tight, elastic straps that he could work loose, it had thicker, ribbed tank straps and deep, henley collar that he probably knew Tommy liked seeing him in. He walked into the master bathroom half-blind trying to slip it on over his head.

“You know,” he called out only to come back a few seconds later, still straightening himself out at the hem and carrying a ragged towel that he flipped over his side of the bed, “you know I think it’s cool that my body knows how to make food for our kid.”

“It’s very cool,” Tommy agreed, no-nonsense. He threw one side of their duvet over to Evan so they could snap it over the bed and peel it back evenly on each side.

Evan flopped himself on top of his towel face up the second they were done, kicking his own feet down to get his calves under the covers. “Well, lately I’m starting to feel like it doesn’t know how to stop, and I’m going to be like this forever. A leaky mess.”

Tommy crawled into bed next to him and leaned over to press a kiss to the meat of his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your tits, baby. Anything I can do?”

His mouth grazed down the strap of Evan’s nursing tank and something deep in his gut began to uncoil as Evan’s breath hitched in response. Instinctively, he pressed another kiss lower, near the crease of his armpit, and Evan shuddered on the exhale.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

Tommy smiled against his warm skin, eyes beating closed. “Good thing we’re both firefighters, then.”

Evan laughed.

“Fuck, I’m serious!” He said, first fond and then softer, “Really. I’m serious, though. If you were. Curious, I mean. Go for it. There’s always a little something left in the tank.”

Tommy hummed. Eyes still closed, he could feel the way Evan shifted underneath him to wrap an arm around Tommy’s shoulder and get a palm at the nape of his neck, fingers tracing up through his hair. Ready to cradle him like that, hold him there, if he wanted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve already thought about it,” Evan continued. “I’ve thought about it, maybe a lot.”

“Jesus, Evan.” Tommy nipped at his shoulder again, just to tease, but found himself curling into Evan’s hold, reaching up to snap open the collar of his tank and slide his hand underneath to cup at Evan’s pec, which fit perfectly in his palm and sat soft and ready below his chin. His thumb stroked over the nipple, fatter and perkier than ever since Nora’d arrived, and Evan sank back against his body in return. “You gonna feed me?”

“Y-yeah.” Evan sounded shaky but so sure. His fingers in Tommy’s hair curled into a soft grip. “God, help me out, Tommy, please let me feed you.”

Tommy hummed. “Okay. C’mere, baby, I got you.”

It was so easy, taking Evan’s fat tit into his mouth, Evan’s grip in his hair growing tighter while the rest of him went practically boneless. Another shaky breath and then Evan made a noise, half-whimper, half moan, that went straight to Tommy’s dick.

“Need you to take it deeper. Open, open, oh—God, your mouth is so big. Stay there, like that, yeah,” Evan said, hushed, almost reverent, as Tommy adjusted his latch and started putting his tongue to work.

He licked up, chasing Evan’s nipple, trying to tease his milk out. Swallowed around him and threw an arm over Evan’s lap to keep him in place when he started to squirm, thrilled to feel the way Evan shifted as his heels started to dig into the mattress, getting hard, dick pressing up against Tommy’s forearm.

And there it was, suddenly, Evan’s milk streaming into his mouth. Creamy and sweet, like the leftover dregs of Saturday morning cereal when he was a kid, hitting his tongue in little hiccup spurts. He almost choked at the sensation and felt a little slip out the corner of his mouth, and Evan’s grip tightened at the base of his scalp again, holding him there.

Their sex life hadn’t suffered even in the past few weeks, not in the way Tommy thought back on many of his old guard colleagues at the 118 talking about—dead bedrooms, wives like cold fish ever since they popped out a kid for some reason. But between Evan’s body needing the time to heal and the recent arrival of a tiny drill sergeant who demanded to be fed, held, changed and bathed at regularly irregular frequencies, opportunities to be intimate with each other had been few and far between. Tommy wasn’t complaining, but the sheer wave of niceness he felt now—being this close and familiar with Evan felt just as good as the first hit of a dilaudid drip in the back of an ambulance, made his toes curl against their fresh sheets as he swallowed.

“Missed your mouth on me,” Evan sighed, clearly also feeling some kind of way. “Shit, that’s nice. Different, but good.”

His dick was more insistent against Tommy’s arm now, the head eagerly tenting the thin cotton of his boxers.

Tommy finally took pity on him and tugged Evan out through the slit in his boxers, lips slipping loose to murmur, “Yes, hi, hello to you too.”

He licked his hand milk wet and returned his grip to stroke Evan and squeeze a little mean at the tip, the way that Evan loved, the way that made Evan pant and whine, before he resumed suckling. There was something meditative about Evan rocking into his hand and against his tongue, and Tommy found himself soothed by the give and take of his body, their natural rhythm together punctuated by Evan’s swallowed back noises.

“Okay?” Tommy asked, mouth full.

“Uh-huh.” Evan sighed, breath pitchy. “Starting to soak through my other side without my Haakaa.”

Tommy hummed, and licked a broad stripe up his nipple to his collarbone, biting there softly. “You want me to go get your Haakaa, baby?”

“Nah, I have a better idea,” Evan replied. He untangled himself from Tommy’s grip and carefully twisted to throw one long leg over Tommy’s thighs. “Hey, handsome.”

“Evan,” Tommy warned. They were supposed to be limiting the kind of sex they were having for at least two more weeks.

Evan worked the other side of his tank down his chest so both of his tits were exposed, rubbing at the neglected nipple. “I just want to continue what we started. Nothing else. C’mon. No funny business.”

“Maybe a little funny business,” Tommy murmured as he watched milk dribble out over Evan’s fingers. He leaned in to chase the wet line up Evan’s knuckles with his tongue and suck a hot-breathed open-mouthed kiss to Evan nipple before pulling away. Evan groaned and rocked forward, chasing him in response, which almost had Tommy laughing. “Hey, gimme a sec. I’m grabbing you some lube.”

“Me?”

Tommy, halfway stretched back reaching for the bedside table, gave an unimpressed glance down at where Evan’s hard dick still curved up through the slit in his boxers, plummy head drooling precome against the tent in Tommy’s own sleep pants. Then he went back to digging the lube out of the drawer, practiced hands making quick work with it until he was wrapping a slick palm around Evan’s dick.

“That’s right, said I was gonna take care of you.” He sidled back up against the headboard, and Evan shifted with him practiced and familiar, until Tommy’s hand was stroking him, snug and slippery between them. Licking another long, thick line up the small swell of Evan’s breast, Tommy said, “And you’ll take care of me.”

He pulled Evan back into his mouth, and something uncoiled in his gut as Evan’s milk hit the back of his tongue again. His eyes fluttered closed. Years together and Evan’s body was still finding new things to give, new ways to taste, sweet and warm like the rest of him, dripping down Tommy’s throat.

“Oh.” Evan’s voice was weak and pitchy, and he brought both hands back up to curl in Tommy’s hair and hold him there while Tommy continued to suck and let Evan fuck into his fist.

His stomach was soft against Tommy’s knuckles, recently tender enough that Tommy tried to get his free hand on Evan’s hip to control the roll of his hips, opting for a sluggish grind and tighter grip. In the past nine months and change Evan had ridden him, sure, actually ridden him, but more recently he’d had a belly full of their kid in the way, so it was always reverse cowboy, and not this level of skin on skin closeness right in his lap. Evan flush against him now was a reminder of their first several months together when they used a little more strength to push each other around and hold each other down and Tommy, mouth full, felt so hungry for it.

“Can’t wait to have you inside me again,” Evan said, like he could read Tommy’s mind.

Tommy moaned and swallowed in response, tongued at Evan’s nipple like he was begging for more. He could feel Evan’s dick throb hot, heavier now in response, the grinding rock of his hips going a little sloppy.

“Baby,” Evan said, right on cue, “I’m going to come.”

The hands in Tommy’s hair tugged back, Tommy’s mouth dragged away and up with a slick noise to be guided in for a kiss, milk slipping from the corners, passed between the two of them as Evan came, shuddering on top of him. Vaguely he felt Evan’s come seep through his tank and sleep pants, already damp with lube and sweat. He was defenseless against it as Evan kept kissing him through his orgasm, licking into him sloppy and greedy for what felt like an hour, big hands and long arms slowly sliding down to where Tommy was still achingly hard. His fingers curled into the elastic waistband to clumsily peel back what he could without moving to pull Tommy out into his own familiar grip.

“Evan,” Tommy said against his mouth, almost breathless with it.

“Let me.” Evan leaned back to spit on his own hand, equal parts too lazy and restless to grab the lube that was right there, but Tommy had been riding the edge practically from the start. He was so goddamn spoiled already.

Evan touched him like he knew, jerking him off hard and quick.

“Next time,” he continued, “next time we do this, you lay me down and I’ll let you jerk off all over my tits.”

Tommy came hard with an ugly noise, like it was ripped up his throat. His head kicked back and Evan laughed, smug, leaning in to kiss the noise down, their teeth clacking together instead. He body felt weightless, Evan’s weight on him the only thing keeping him from floating up to the ceiling.

“Jesus,” he said, eventually.

Evan hummed, settling back. He looked sleepy, and satisfied, and so pleased with himself. “Yeah? You good? Get your fill?”

“And then some,” Tommy replied, feeling half drunk. “You good?”

“Great,” Evan said, glancing between them. Both their clean shirts were soaked through in places. Tommy needed to grab a new pair of pants. “But I'll be even better if you take care of the laundry.”

#mpreg #bucktommy #baby probie #911 abc #delaney writes

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bones4thecats · 10 months ago

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What If They Were Fathers?

Type of Writing: #5 - Poll Result Characters: Bonten! Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, and Hajime Kokonoi Name: What If They Were Fathers? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: The Reader is FEMALE in this, since they're pregnant and whatnot.

WARNING! This contains: Mentions of drugs, overdoses, alcohol addiction, and drug addiction

Spoilers for: Bonten Arc

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍵 It shocked Mikey enough that you still loved him even though he wasn't the same happy-go-lucky boy he was years ago, instead, he grew into a emotionless and dead-appearing individual

🍵 So, when he heard that you were pregnant, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a small bit of love grow inside his now cold-heart

🍵 Mikey was very good when it came to caring for you during your pregnancy, he would have the others go get you things you needed, since he suspected someone was after him and you

🍵 After all, being pregnant slows down a woman from whooping ass

🍵 It was surprising, but, when you went into labor and you were yelling at him as he tried calming you down, Mikey stayed as calm as ever

🍵 He would slightly flinch at the loud screams of pain you let out, and he was honestly kinda scared he may lose you when the gang's doctor rushed you to lay down and stay calm

" Mr. Sano, sir, would you like to hold your baby? "

🍵 Looking behind him, he stared at his first child, a son, and he felt a shimmer of happiness and sadness rush through him at the same time, it reminded him of when he first met Emma, how he cared for her automatically without any reason

🍵 As he held your baby, he let a tear rush down his cheek as you chuckled at his small moment of vulnerability, something he swore he would never show was in-fact showing, he was still human inside

🍵 Now, while your son grew up, Mikey was a hint of a helicopter-father, he runs a very dangerous organization, one that is being hunted by authorities constantly, and he had enough to do when worrying about you, but, his son was so similar to younger him

🍵 The boy would run up to strangers and make them laugh without a care in the world as Mikey would hide himself deeper in a hoodie while you got your son back to you guys

🍵 But, despite many beliefs, he's a decent father

🍵 Mikey would put some things behind and would play with his son, for example, if his son wanted to mess around with some sock puppets and make a story, Mikey would indulge him and mess with him, making his voice deepen and rise for his son's laugh to erupt

🍵 He does have his faults though, as his work can end up making his son mature faster than a child should, or he could end up saying or doing something that upset you, making his son start disconnecting with him

🍵 Overall, he's a 7.5/10 father, he's good in certain situations and bad in others

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄��⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔪 Sanzu and you have known one another for years, planting the first time you ever met nearly 10 years prior to this one

🔪 When he went through the years of torturous addictions, whether it be to alcohol or drugs that he somehow got a hold of through means even you didn't know of, you were always there to pull him away

🔪 Because of those issues, he had no idea why you settled for him of all people, you were so beautiful, you could've gotten with any other member of Bonten, maybe even his own boss

🔪 But, you settled with him, the guy who had nearly overdosed from his drugs and alcohol multiple times

🔪 While pushing those hateful thoughts of himself to the back of his brain, Sanzu had gone through multiple attempts of rehabilitation, and after a few failures and your threat of leaving him, he began taking it seriously, he loves you and he needs you to be there

🔪 It took a while, but, once he made it to your first milestone of a year of sobriety, you gave him a reward, which led to something bigger than expected

🔪 You had gotten pregnant, leaving Sanzu is shock, and his brain nearly, nearly, slipped away to him grabbing a large bottle of whiskey and wine mixed with a large bag of his old drugs

🔪 In the midst of his panic-attack, it took Kakucho's words of affirmation with his boss' assurance of him getting a form of paternity leave to just calm him down

🔪 He takes excellent care of you during your pregnancy, and that carried onto him as a father, to a degree, that is

🔪 When you went into labor, he was panicking badly, he had nearly passed out when you began to scream in pain, and during this mass of chaos, the doctor had to usher Ran and Rindou to take him out of the room

🔪 Hearing your screams of agony stop made his heart sink, what happened? Were you okay? How was his baby? Oh God, what if he lost you and the baby?! How would he live with himself?!

" Mr. Haruchiyo, your wife and daughter are in perfect condition. Would you like to come and see them? " " Yes! I- I mean, yes, please. "

🔪 When he held your daughter for the first time, he swore on his life he would protect you guys from everything, including himself. And, that day, he swore to stay sober for good. No fuck ups this time, he couldn't, no, he wouldn't risk harming his child and his own wife

🔪 Ever since your daughter was born, the rest of Bonten began to hide their deals from your home more often, by orders of Mikey, since, he knew how a traumatizing childhood can affect someone

🔪 Sanzu loves to play with her, for example, at just a few months old until she was around maybe seven years old, he would pick her up and toss her in the air for him to catch

🔪 Unlike Mikey, Sanzu doesn't really fear anyone harming his child, if they were a boy that is, he has a full-fledged belief that boys are far more feared than women, so, whenever his daughter starts talking to a stranger, he glares from behind her to make sure that random guy didn't even attempt touching her

🔪 He definitely tries holding back his tears during her first day of school, or really during any massive part of her life, especially when she graduated and moved out, his baby was so old now... he's getting back pain!

" Dad... I'm just moving across the street in another apartment, don't worry! I'll come see you and Mom whenever I can! Please don't cry! " " I'm not crying about that! Your Mother swat a fly earlier, I feel bad for the fly! "

❤️‍🔥 This guy is the definition of husband and father material, that I cannot deny

❤️‍🔥 When you guys started dating, he always had the idea of your future, from marriage to having children, whenever he would come home from a fight all injured, he would ask you if this was what you really wanted

❤️‍🔥 Did you really want to be with him? For crying out loud, he could get possibly killed at any time! This especially set in when you guys lost Izana (I believe that still happens... correct me if I'm wrong!)

❤️‍🔥 It still shocks him to this day on the fact you married him, he worked for Bonten, a gang very well known for their heinous actions, all members, including Kakucho himself, have done horrible things, how could you look him in the eye, nonetheless propose having children?

❤️‍🔥 You really surprise him at every turn, don't you?

❤️‍🔥 He smiled and gave you the thumbs up. Thankfully, it didn't take very long for you to find out you were pregnant, and as your stomach grew, he read many books on parenthood, he couldn't risk his child having a childhood as rough as he did

❤️‍🔥 When you went into labor, he was scared out of his mind, all of a sudden the floor was wet and you were heaving over in pain, leaving him to carry you bridal-style as he ran to Bonten's doctor

" I think they're in labor, Doctor! " " Girls! Get her in the delivery room, stat! "

❤️‍🔥 Hearing you scream in pain made him flinch as Kokonoi and Takeomi tried keeping him from busting down the door to comfort you

❤️‍🔥 Once the doctor came outside of the room and asked for him to come inside, he burst past the man dressed in scrubs and hugged you as you laid on the bed with a blanket in your arms

❤️‍🔥 You hushed him and held up your baby girl's head, and when your husband laid eyes on his daughter, he began to tear up, he really started crying was when she gripped his finger with her tiny fist

❤️‍🔥 You guys really made this? How surprising is this, huh?

❤️‍🔥 As your son grew up, Kakucho adores messing with her hair, he always had his in a buzz-cut as he grew older, so, whenever she asked for him to braid her hair when she was small, he obliged and gave her such a cute hairstyle!

❤️‍🔥 Kakucho obligates his family in first place alongside his work, though, since he was one of the top four people in Bonten, he got quite busy, but, he always tries pushing it all away as best as he could

❤️‍🔥 Thankfully, Mikey was more lenient with that since he knew of Kakucho's family-oriented life

❤️‍🔥 He is definitely one of the best fathers in the Tokyo Revengers Universe, he wants his child to grow up in a world where they feel wanted, and that roots deep with his own childhood

❤️‍🔥 This guy is also very protective, he's lost so many people, his best friend, Izana, for example

❤️‍🔥 Anyone tries harming his daughter, there will be hell to pay.

💰 Kokonoi, much like Kakucho, is still surprised that you wanted to be with him, but, he's also surprised that he was still with you... he believed that after the loss of Akane that he would never love again

💰 Thankfully, when you came into his life during the earlier years of Bonten to help with some issues with relations between gangs, Kokonoi began to bond with you

💰 When he asked you to marry him after a few months of dating and a couple weeks of courting, he remembers exactly how you smiled when you confirmed you wanted the same as him

💰 Kokonoi has enough resources to care for his family, so, when you proposed having children, he wasn't very worried about expenses, this guy knows so many ways of making money that even the richest people in the world would be baffled

💰 He was very excited when you found out you were having a baby, nonetheless when it was found out to be twins

💰 During your early months of pregnancy, he would grab everything for female babies and male babies, since the gender was hard to tell until your fifth month

💰 This guy was on cloud nine when notified you were both genders

💰 Now he doesn't have to worry about Mikey being mad that he bought so much male and female items for these babies

💰 Anyways, when you eventually went into labor, Kokonoi was as calm as a butterfly on the outside, while on the inside he was like a swarm of angry geese, thoughts flying faster than the snitch in Harry Potter

💰 He stayed in the room with you, allowing you to squeeze his hand, despite the immense pain you were bringing to his hands, he probably was getting bruises from your hold

💰 When the sounds of your first baby's cries entered his ears, he swore he forgot all about the pain in his hands, but, when his daughter came out just a few minutes later, his heart swooned

💰 If you've seen Friends, you might be familiar when Frank Jr. ran out to the gang and was yelling about his first child's birth, oh yeah, he definitely does that

" Yes! We have the first one down! I cannot believe I have a son... oh God! I have a Hajime Jr.! " " Has your wife even agreed to that name, Kokonoi? " " Nope! "

💰 Kokonoi held his son, whom you had to turn down his ideas of naming him Hajime Jr., and you held your daughter, and you had to turn down him naming her Sanzu-ia, he loves pissing Sanzu off too much...

💰 As your babies grew up, Kokonoi spoiled them beyond belief, and you had to hold him back from doing something stupid, like buying a TV show because his little baby girl wanted to meet a character she loved

💰 While the two grew up, he, much like Sanzu, cries at mass events for them, but, unlike Sanzu, he doesn't try holding himself back from showing his emotions to his children, prompting their embarrassment and you laughing at their antics

" Dad... please stop crying, God you're so embarrassing me... " " I can't! My babies are growing up so fast! Can you believe that just eighteen years ago you're mother was pushing you out of her- " " DAD! "

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marthawrites · 11 months ago

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could you write smut for Aemond like prompts 1, 15, 11, 52, 49, 25, 13, and 26? They are all so good 🥹 Reader could be his betrothed (Targaryen would be perfect but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is great) and Aemond didn't want to wait until the wedding

Hello dear nonnie! You requested this back in September - I apologize for making you wait so long for this story. If you're still around I hope it's what you want, and that you enjoy this rendition of Aemond and his (fanon) niece!

Shadows, Beastsong, and Dragonblood

Aemond Targaryen x niece reader

Word count: 7.6k+ (whoops)

About: Growing up you and your uncle Aemond always shared a special kinship. As you grew older, tension between your family and his rose. Moving to Dragonstone led to long years of not seeing each other. When you and your mother visited her father, King Viserys, yours and Aemond's relationship changed. It changed further, years later, upon your final visit to the capitol.

Includes: Fluff, angst, tension, and smut. Featuring incest (uncle x niece), mentions of Aemond's virginity loss at the brothel, mentions of minors sexually experimenting, male receiving oral sex, vaginal fingering, adult reader's virginity loss, and unprotected vaginal sex.

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story follows canon events. HERE is the prompt list used. Reader is technically a Velaryon!Strong bastard who personally identifies as a Targaryen because she looks just like her mother, Rhaenyra. Reader is implied to have pale skin, silver hair, and purple eyes - everything else is entirely up to you. Rhaenys has her canon black hair in this fic. I heavily debated about breaking this into three parts but decided to keep it as a single story. This fic has many firsts for me and it's different than those I've written in the past. It took a lot of effort and I hope you enjoy it!

The years following Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon’s marriage bared fruit after fruit. It wasn't long long after Jacaerys’ birth that Rhaenyra began to show signs of another pregnancy. A woman’s body goes through tremendous changes during, for, and after childbirth, and sometimes her moon cycle can take half a year to return to normal. The princess’ first moon’s blood after his birth hadn’t the chance to appear before the maester’s deemed her pregnant for a second time.

Another boy, Laenor hoped, to help strengthen the Velaryon line. A healthy babe, Rhaenyra hoped, to love and grow.

Their second child was pinker and paler than Jace upon entering the world. Unlike your brother who had a fine covering of dark hair over his head, yours was so pale it looked akin to winter’s first snow upon your head. A tiny, sweet, healthy baby girl who would grow into the very image of your mother.

And, again, after you came into the world, Rhaenyra showed signs of pregnancy soon after. Laenor got what he hoped for with their third child: another boy, Lucerys, with a splattering of dark hair over his head, too.

Another three years would pass before your little brother, Joffrey, was born. Dark of hair and dark of eyes just like his two older brothers.

As you all grew, none of your brothers showed any signs of Targaryen or Velaryon features. They all had rich brown eyes, dark curly hair, and were quicker to tan than you. Whereas you were a copy of your mother. A true Targaryen beauty: silver hair, pale skin, and eyes the color of amethyst. If Rhaenrya was the Realm’s Delight, then you were the Charm of the Realm. The only thing you lacked as a Targaryen was a dragon. Disappointingly, the egg that was placed in your crib never hatched. The older you grew, and the more you learned of the world, the more you hoped to have a dragon of your very own one day. Rides on Syrax with your mother–thrilling as they were–left you sad. You wanted to be in charge of the reins. You wanted to speak and command a dragon. You wanted the power of your Targaryen ancestors; a conqueror like Queen Visenya or Queen Rhaenys.

You and your brothers grew alongside your uncles, Aegon and Aemond, and your aunt, Helaena, in King’s Landing. As young children you all, for the most part, got along well. You and your uncle Aemond shared one profound thing together: neither of you had a dragon. It was a topic of extreme sensitivity for him. And because of this, sadness, anger, and even embarrassment hung around him from a young age. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t carry those emotions in your heart, too, because you did, but Aemond’s was heavier. Suffocating.

Shameful.

When everyone else trained in the dragonpit you and Aemond were known to stay in the library together. You bonded quickly through tales of your shared ancestry, love of philosophy, and the histories. Much to Aemond's annoyance, your penmanship surpassed his own. When you told your mother you wanted to be a scribe when you grew older she laughed. “Princesses aren't scribes. You will do much more wondrous things than live your life by the quill.”

You nodded, ever sweet to your mother, and still practiced your writing. Your septa and parents praised you–and Aemond scowled in your retellings. It made you giggle. It was harmless and the extra attention (however negative it seemed to be) from your uncle who was barely older than you made your heart soar; emotions you couldn’t quite name soared too.

He surpassed you in everything physical. If it happened in the training yard, he had you beat by a league.

You surpassed him in subtlety. At first, you were the one who snuck up on him. You were the one who showed him secret passageways in the Red Keep, as well as hidden nooks and crannies that had surely been forgotten.

It didn’t take Aemond long to exceed your skill, however.

Time went on and life continued. With each passing year the innocence of childhood melted like candlewax. You all stopped playing as often until play happened no longer. When once there were shared sweets, games of tag, and exaggerated stories of ‘grand adventures’ to the stables, now there was gossip. Whispered words, sniggers behind hands, and an air of aloofness that had never been there before took over.

“Why do you and your family treat me and my brothers like this now, uncle?” You asked Aemond with flushed cheeks and eyes filled with unshed tears. Whether it were anger or hurt he could not tell. Your heart couldn't, either.

“They look nothing of their father. Or my sister,” he answered plainly with an edge of something you couldn't quite decipher.

“And what of our cousin Rhaenys? Hm? The Baratheon blood runs strong in her for she is black of hair. No different than my brothers!”

“‘Tis different,” Aemond answered curtly, still refraining from speaking bluntly to you about what his mother gossiped about.

“It's not!” You proclaimed.

Not long after that confrontation did Laena Velaryon suffer an unfortunate death. Her funeral was memorialized in King's Landing with the closest of her kin. And, as the God's would have it, it was that fateful night Aemond gained a dragon–Vhagar, the largest and oldest in the world–in exchange for his eye.

A small price to pay for the way the young prince would bloom beneath her wings.

Rhaenyra’s family, as well as Alicent’s family, were all summoned by King Viserys to make sense of what happened to Aemond and why it happened. Tension swelled and crackled through the collected room like living storm clouds. You stood quietly behind your mother, purple eyes wide and scared as you surveyed the chaos. Even as all the kids yelled over one another trying to make their side of the story heard, you didn’t utter a peep. How desperately you wanted to ask Aemond himself what happened. How terribly you wanted to hold his hand through the pain of his slashed face being stitched up. How awfully you wanted to kiss him if only to let him know he could still feel something–to see if he could still feel something.

The King seemed to hold no love for his son as he asked him–ordered him–to tell the truth. You felt your heart breaking as you witnessed father and son hold a stare off that could alight the entire room aflame. Two dragons, one old and one young, challenging each other, daring each other, their teeth seconds away from rending into the other.

The following moments were a blur and you didn’t realize what was happening until Alicent ran to your mother with her husband’s dagger clenched in her hand. You screamed and were pulled away in time to not get pushed or stumbled over. Blood spilled and the tension broke in a devastating clash of emotions. Emotions you, as a child, couldn’t understand, not fully.

Kings Landing was no longer safe for your family.

During the following days, before departing for Dragonstone, you were able to sneak to Aemond a handful of times. He didn’t talk much. You never pressured him to. Often, it was only silence and your uncle’s soft sobs that filled the otherwise quietness of his bedchamber. It was at the peak of those times, those heart wrenchingly raw moments, that you would sing to him. Admittedly you were no singer–flat most of the time and awkwardly sharp at others–but neither of you cared. You weren’t even sure if the song you sang was proper in its pacing and pronunciations. It was a song you both deemed secret: learned from the pages of an Old Valyria history book, paced to your own tune, the ancient words were sung with all the wonder of adolescence.

Vhargar and Aemond’s bond had already been forged by grit, determination, and a kind of stupidity that only young boys held, and it grew by the day. You weren’t sure if Vhagar’s roars were louder while Aemond quietly sobbed into your comforting embrace, or while he was utterly silent. You wondered what brewed beneath the surface during those times. Part of you was afraid of what that silence might gestate. There were many tales of beasts being soothed by music, and so you sang and hoped your ancient song might keep his beast at bay.

“We’re leaving for Dragonstone at first light, uncle,” you said to him a little sadly. You hadn’t ever been away from Aemond. Would the libraries at Dragonstone offer the same respite as the ones here at King's Landing? Would you see hopeful glimpses of him from the corner of your eye only to realize it a play of your imagination?

While he acknowledged your words he didn’t say anything in reply.

“When do you think we’ll see each other again?” You asked softly, tentatively.

“Likely when we are grown and free to make our own decisions,” he answered, words flat.

It stung. It hurt. “Then I shall tame one of the wild dragons and fly to visit you.” Aemond’s single eye, that lovely hue so similar and so different to your own, glittered at you for the briefest second. So he can still feel things, you thought to yourself. The corner of his mouth twitched in tandem, and before you could stop yourself you learned forward and pressed the gentlest kiss to the outside of his mouth. You didn’t stay to catch his reaction for you turned on your heel and walked down the secret passage from whence you came; naught more than a whisper of silken skirts.

Such affection would be improper by Gods and men alike if you were born of a different bloodline. The Targaryens were closer to Gods than men, however, and so you did not have to play life by man’s traditions. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and your heart pulled to Aemond. A surge of energy rushed through you and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him properly. But when you turned to look over your shoulder, you only saw darkness. He was already gone.

II.

Dragonstone’s libraries were much different than the big library in the Red Keep. Over the following years, you finally, slowly, began to feel peace akin to what you and Aemond shared. Similar, but not quite.

Rhaenyra married her uncle Daemon and they had given you two more little brothers: Aegon and Viserys. Part of you missed life in King’s Landing with its bright sunshine, lavish gardens, and wide populace. Despite the grimness of Dragonstone, however, this place truly felt like home. An ancient seat of Targaryen glory, the the Targaryen's of old spared nothing while crafting this castle with arcane arts, dragonfire, and sorcery. The fabled magic of it sent your veins thrumming. If it weren’t for Aemond you might not ever want to go back to King’s Landing. Aegon’s garden was your favorite place in all of Dragonstone with its tall dark trees, wild roses, and thorny hedges. You wrote diary entries as well as letters there. You and Aemond wrote back and forth a few times over the years, but just like in childhood when games of chase were played no more, your letters, too, stopped. Still, the garden with its piney scent and tart cranberries remained your place of solace.

A letter from King Viserys arrived some time after you’d turned fifteen. Rhaenyra pulled you aside that same day, away from your brothers, and said, “father’s health is beginning to fail. I'm going to see him. Daemon said he will stay here while I visit on dragonback. Would you like to come with me? I’d love for you to. And I know Syrax would too,” she smiled hopefully, giving your forearm a gentle squeeze in annunciation.

You blinked, slightly taken back, before beaming a bright smile. “Of course, mother! I miss my grandfather and would love to see him.”

“I’ll send a raven. Perhaps he will have a belated nameday gift for you,” your mother answered with one of her playful expressions.

A return letter was indeed sent and over the next few days Rhaenyra and Daemon made plans for the upcoming week. It wouldn’t be a long stay but that didn’t stop excitement from crawling up your spine and settling in your belly. How would uncle Aemond be? It’d been so long since you two had seen each other! It'd even been a long time since you wrote to one another. Would he remember you as you remembered him? Would he even care to see you?

You donned your warmest wool and most comfortable leathers for the flight to King’s Landing. Gray clouds broke to open blue sky and the brisk salty air had you feeling like you were in charge of the flight. Syrax knew the way well and flew right where she knew to–the dragonpit.

There wasn’t a grand welcome for your arrival and yet somehow it felt more comfortable than being paraded around for hours on end and being forced to entertain a grandiose feast. Viserys–he did look ailing, much more than you last remembered–and Alicent welcomed Rhaenyra and yourself. Ser Criston Cole and Aemond stood with them.

He did want to see you!

“Father! I’m sorry we haven’t been back sooner. Daemon and I–”

Excited hugs were exchanged between the three of you, and the conversation droned out as pressure built behind your ears; dull ringing taking over as anxiety, excitement, and something else unnamed thrilled along your spine. Aemond, only a short time older than you, was no longer the boy you remembered. He’d grown tall and sharp. Any softness of childhood melted away during the last few years. Placed over his damaged left eye was a simple black leather eyepatch. It stood out starkly against his pale complexion–though, it matched the rest of his black leather attire. His slash healed well, you thought privately, but a gnarly scar remained. It looked painful.

Aemond peered at you looking at him; keen. Something simmered beneath his eye and you were reminded of singing to him all those years ago–how you’d hoped to soothe any beast that might be growing in the shadows. The corners of his bowed mouth quirked.

“Darling?” Your mother asked, her voice finally making sense in your head as she turned to regard you closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

With a quick flutter of blinks you looked up to her. “Sorry. Yes, I’m feeling alright. A bit tired from the flight is all. May I have a snack before supper?”

“Of course,” she replied with a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

Alicent smiled. You always thought her pretty. A part of you wondered how none of her children shared her brown eyes or auburn hair. “Check with the kitchen. I’m sure there’s breads and cheeses available at the very least. Wine, too, I imagine.” She looked between you and Aemond before adding, “let Aemond take you. He’s been quite excited to see you since Rhaenyra’s letter.”

“Uncle,” you breathed, surprised by your lack of breath upon saying his name. “I daresay I barely recognize you.”

“I could say the same, niece. It's been many years,” he said with an inclination of his head. “You are looking a little faint. Let’s find you some food, hm?” He asked.

At first, conversation proved to be sparse. Before, things had always been so easy with Aemond and silence had always been comfortable. Now, it didn’t feel easy nor did the silence feel comfortable. Anytime you looked up at him, or over to him, he was already looking at you. His attention barely seemed to wander elsewhere. You ate until you felt better while Aemond pretended to eat. Slowly, with effort on your part, conversation picked up. Before too long the air of awkwardness lifted and your shoulders relaxed.

Aemond seemed to notice, too.

Three days followed and each proved to be more eventful than the last. You’d met up with your aunt and uncle, Helaena and Aegon, and happily–even if Aegon's jests were more perverse than you ever remembered–caught up with them. They were married now. Though, you saw no sort of physical or emotional connection between them. You liked Helaena; you wondered, privately, if life was treating her well, and if she found any enjoyment within it. The faraway look in her eyes suggested not, but you remembered her always being a peculiar child. She didn’t always have both feet in this world, you realized, and you didn’t feel any sort of jealousy for her otherworldly gift. Did dreamers fall into a silent abyss while slumbering? Or did they even dream when they slept, resulting in a never ending barrage of sight and madness?

On the fourth day Aemond introduced you to Vhagar. Sympathy–or perhaps pity–shone in his eye when you told him you still hadn’t bonded with a dragon. “And here I remember you saying you would tame a wild dragon so you might fly across the sea to visit me?” He proclaimed with an arch of brow, snark and jest in equal measurements.

“It’s not quite so easy. I enjoy my skin and my hair. I have heard many tales of brave men trying to bond with those dragons only to end up as a pile of ash. Or forever scarred. Or–” you lowered your voice and tipped closer to him, adding with a whisper, “–lacking of limbs.” You tilted your chin, purple eyes glittering with playfulness; teasing, testing.

“Hm,” he stifled a laugh with a press of his lips. “Both of those are a marvel. It would very much be a shame to scathe the beauty of Old Valyria.”

Your heart jumped and you blushed. Surely he was only being kind, right?

He flew you on Vhargar until the spilled watercolors of sunset mottled into gray. Upon returning to the Red Keep, tucked away in one of your secret childhood places, Aemond dared to kiss your lips. Stunned and exhilarated alike, you returned the affection with fervor. He wasn’t your first kiss, but the things that sparked and webbed through your body were much more intense than any before. “Aemond…,” you whispered against his mouth. “We shouldn’t be doing this, uncle.”

“You can stop any time,” he rasped in reply, eye dark.

In a shuddered breath you admitted, “I don’t want to.”

“Me either.”

You kissed until voices and footsteps filled the nearby corridor. Hiding your giggles behind a hand, you slunk away in direction to your chamber leaving Aemond behind. You turned to see where he might be going. Already he’d turned on his heel and strode in the opposite way. He didn’t follow. That night–with a thundering pulse– you dreamt of wild roses, flying, and your hands on your uncle’s chest while he kissed your neck.

The following day was yours and your mother’s last day in the capitol. She intended to leave after lunch, and until then she let you do as you please. Requesting, of course, to be back in time to leave on time. With how much you missed the rest of your family you could only imagine how much she missed them!

“Come to Dragonstone with us. I don’t want to leave you so soon. I can show you all my favorite places at home. At the ancient seat of our family,” you added the last bit with bright eyes in hopes of seducing him away with you.

“My place is not there,” replied Aemond. “I am to stay here with my mother and siblings. ‘Tis my duty as second son.”

You knew, as second son, that Aemond would have to carve his own path with fire, blood, and teeth–heavy emphasis on the latter, most likely.

“Daemon can train you. Our castle yard has an impressive training pit. It’s different from the one here. Everything is different there. There’s some nights when the magic in the walls makes my blood sing. There is no magic like that left here,” you tried to coax him further, stepping close so you had to look up at him with soft eyes. Eager eyes.

Instead of accepting or denying your request he leaned down and kissed you like he did yesterday. And just like yesterday you warmly accepted the affection. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and dragonblood runs hot. Despite your relation, and despite yourself, you found yourself wanting. Needing. He was too. You could tell by the tightness of his pants. Two young dragons hidden away amongst sparse candlelight in a secret passage perhaps only Maegor the Cruel knew of. “I’ve always wanted to try something. Will… will you let me?”

He pulled back to peer at you curiously. “What is it?”

Slowly, running on an instinct that any wanton young woman harbored, you sank down onto your knees before him. “You can tell me to stop at any time. Okay?”

Aemond wasn’t an idiot. He nearly spent in his pants at the very sight of you lowering like that. Aegon had taken him to a brothel on the Street of Silk for his thirteenth nameday, and he lost the last innocence of boyhood within those perfumed walls; a secret not many knew. And, perhaps less knew how much he despised it–how it disgusted him. The thought still made his stomach turn.

But you? His beautiful, perfect niece, with your epitome of Targaryen beauty?

He never asked you to stop as you sated your curiosity. The rush of sensation that blazed through his body was more intense than anything he’d yet experienced. At the peak of his pleasure he swore he blacked out.

He returned the gift as best as he could with his fingers.

You barely made it back in time to your mother to fly back home. You sincerely hoped she didn’t ask any questions about where you were or why you were running late.

III.

As the Gods would have it, it would be another few years before Rhaenyra and her family were summoned to King’s Landing for, perhaps, an even more dire situation than the first: the legitimacy of Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark and its throne. It was a matter already settled many years ago by none other than King Viserys. Yet, still, conflict stirred with Vaemond Velaryon and his proclamation.

A never ending political headache for the King who’s health was in such despair it was a miracle he lived to see each new morning.

Similar to when you and your mother arrived three years prior, there wasn’t a grand welcome awaiting your family. In fact there was… nothing. Tension sparked to new heights and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into yourself and disappear. While not entirely disappearing, you and your brothers made way to the private guest bedchambers; Rhaenyra made sure to have rooms arranged for all of you prior to arriving. Before leaving, she told all of you that she would summon you later once things were settled. Or supper. Whichever came first.

Truthfully you had no plans to eat with everyone. Uncaring of any potential consequence it might bring you loosened your hair, stripped down to your shift, and plopped in bed so heavily that a plume of dust rose from the sheets. If you were less exhausted–mentally and physically–you’d be repulsed by the dust. Right now? You cared little.

Slumber washed over you like the waves you were so used to at home.

You didn’t wake until hours later when a servant rapped over and over upon your door. “My lady? Hello?”

Coughing and turning to face the doorway, you asked, “what is it?”

A young girl stepped inside and bowed. “Your mother has summoned you for dinner.”

“Bring me a plate, please. I have no wish to eat with a crowd tonight.”

She twisted her hands a few times as if in disapproval but said nothing. Instead, she simply nodded, bowed again, and left with a click of the door.

That night you ate alone and silently hoped Aemond would come find you. Surely he knew ways around the Keep that would lead him to you... But, he never did. After eating your fill you slept like the dead.

Sunrise gently woke you and gradually you began to prepare for the day. Once ready to get dressed, you were confused to see your dress on the floor instead of on the back of the chair you hung it over last night. Strange… you thought to yourself, scanning around the room for what might have caused it. A section of curtain fluttered with morning breeze and when you walked to inspect it you realized the window had been partially cracked. You laughed a short sound and rolled your eyes–how silly to be paranoid about the breeze. You couldn’t remember any strong gusts last night, but you did sleep very hard.

Fully around, now, you made your way to find breakfast. Eventually you did and broke fast with your brothers. For a few moments it felt like you were all children again. Talking, laughing, stealing bits of food off each other’s plates, it felt… good. Homey. Lighthearted in a way only they could make you feel. Once finished, they departed for the training yard and you went to explore the gardens. There might not be any wild roses here and the hedges might be considerably less thorny than those at Dragonstone, but that didn’t stop you from missing it.

Flowers, shrubs, and trees were in full beautiful display and their fragrances sent you right back to childhood. You lost track of how long you wandered. At least a full hour, surely. Likely more. It wasn’t until you heard your name spoken behind you that you snapped back to reality. Turning to look over your shoulder, you stuttered, excited and surprised, “Aemond!”

He stood taller and sharper than he did three years ago. He was a man grown, now, just like you were a woman grown. Gone were any traces of awkward lankiness. He was slim, yes, but judging by the width of his shoulders he had a strong back and arms. “Niece,” he replied. “Your brothers graced my training session earlier. As did Vaemond Velaryon and his entourage,” he paused to inspect a bit of dirt on his sleeve before folding his arms behind his back. “I thought perhaps your strong brothers might grow into their Velaryon features as they aged. But, alas, they haven’t.”

Prick.

Was he really going right for your throat? Immediately?

“Do you have so little faith in your sister’s lineage” You asked, hands folding behind your back, mirroring him, as you slowly closed the distance between yourselves with deliberate steps. “Myself and all my brothers were grown in the belly of a dragon. Birthed into this world by a dragon. Tell me, uncle, how is that any different than being seeded by a dragon?”

“It is not my sister’s lineage I lack faith in, dear niece, it’s the roots she climbs.”

Fury heated your face and for a moment you considered punching him in his stupid, sharp, beautiful nose. Or perhaps kneeing him in the root he no doubt made reference to. In the span of three heartbeats you settled for neither and instead gave him a disappointing quirk of mouth. “And here I was upset that you didn’t come to say hi to me last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I saw you plenty last night.” he said, tone making it seem like everyone watched you sup together even though you ate alone.

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Did you come find me to be rude, or was there another reason you graced my company?”

“We recently received a collection of books from Myr. Would you like to look at them with me?” Hopefulness briefly lit his features. Idly, you wondered what his deal was. He was an outright asshole only a moment ago, and now he offered to read with you like you did so often as children? The library always had been a place of solace for both of you. Mayhaps he was simply nervous today, on edge, and let the ugliness of anxiety guide his tongue. It would be quiet in the library–the perfect place to, perhaps, connect once again as adults.

You continued to look up at him, attempting to read his features, before replying, “sure. Only if we can have tea and scones too.”

It was his turn to squint at you suspiciously.

That made you laugh; tension began to ease around both of you. “I won’t get crumbs on the pages. Promise!”

And so, walking shoulder to shoulder, you both made way to the library. Tea and scones arrived shortly afterward. As soon as you began reading from different tomes conversation began to flow more freely. Nerves might be flying wild everywhere else in the Red Keep, but here? Safely within these walls? You relaxed. Aemond relaxed. There were no more subtle jabs at bastardry, nor Driftmark, nor anything else. Every now and then you’d laugh and Aemond would smile. Other times it was perfectly silent. When you thought him engrossed by something he read, you eyed him carefully through your peripheral vision–and sometimes with your full vision–trying to keep rising sensations at bay. Despite his sharp tongue and rude quips, he was horribly handsome. You thought he was the last time you were here, too, and now those same feelings intensified to new heights. You caught him doing the same to you. Though, he didn’t coyly turn away when caught. Tension of a different sort heated the air around both of you.

Hot-blooded.

Dragonblood.

You ate supper with your mother that night. She and Daemon discussed things from earlier in the day but you paid it little mind–yours was still on Aemond.

After supper you had a quiet night in your bedchamber. You requested a bath, and it didn’t take the servants long to prepare it for you. Soaking in the hot water was exactly what you needed–complete with your favorite oils generously added to the water until sweet florals and subtly spicy scents lingered around you. By the time you were done your fingers and toes were wrinkly and the water was tepid at best. Sitting in front of the vanity, you dried and braided your silver hair for bed. The day’s events–Aemond–proved to be mentally exhausting. Conflicting emotions warred in your mind as you laid in bed and started up at the neat lace underlay of the four poster bed’s silken drapes.

A noise at your door startled you from whatever daydream danced in your head. How was it opening? You triple checked the lock! Who was coming inside? Frozen and wide eyed, you couldn’t move from your spot upon the bed as someone silently intruded. As the figure stepped out of the shadowy frame you took note of their height, body shape, and silver hair… “Aemond!?” You asked shrilly. “Seven Hells what on earth are you doing?”

“Coming to pay a proper visit to my little niece, of course,” he answered with quiet amusement. Standing at the side of your bed, now, he tilted his head and continued, “I requested a specific guard for this duty tonight so I could slip past him.”

You looked up at him as he looked down at you, regarding you closely. Something shone behind his eye and you couldn’t quite put a finger on it. A rush of emotion rose and settled in the pit of your belly as Aemond gently dragged his thumb across your lower lip. Down the curve of your chin. You swallowed thickly. “You could have just as easily knocked like any regular person would, uncle,” you said.

“What's the fun in that?”

Silence followed as you both took each other in, that unknown expression behind his eye becoming more clear. Lust.

Did your own gaze mirror it too? The sound of your blood filled your ears.

“Do you remember the last time you were here? When we were in that passageway all alone?” He asked, tracing the backs of his fingers along your pretty face.

Of course you did. You smiled–coy–and tipped your head into his touch. “Quite well.”

A soft satisfied hum accented the curve of his mouth. “Good.” His fingers pressed against the underside of your chin as he tilted your face up to him, embers sparking through the eye contact. “I've searched for that type of release again and again and have yet to find it,” he said; desperation and intensity so evident you knew he meant it.

Shivers took over your entire body and your spine arched forward, curving as if to seek the sensation of his body against yours. “You have?” You asked between parted lips.

“I have.”

A hot rush of excitement overcame you and before you knew it both of your hands pulled on the buckles of his tunic, pulling him down to you. You kissed him fiercely and he returned it with ferocity. There wasn't anything tentative about it; lips, tongue, teeth, all meshing until you whimpered into his mouth.

Aemond pushed you back on the bed and fell atop you, one arm holding him up for support, as his silken hair draped along his face. He was so warm, and felt so good over you, that you moaned into his kiss again; he swallowed it whole.

You whined, voice raspy and sweet alike, as you tugged on the front of his belt, “again. I want to do it again,”

“Look at you, so needy for my cock,” he rumbled against your neck, kissing and nipping along the sensitive flesh. He grinned warmly into the crook there and you giggled.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows you turned your body so you could push him onto his back. The startle of his angular lovely face was more than enough reward. With the new position you could feel how hard he was inside his pants, and you wondered if he could feel your heat through the thin material of your smallclothes. You slid down the front of his body until you knelt delicately on the floor. Looking up at him as innocently as you could, your hands ran up the lean length of his thighs while you nestled between them. “You left my window open last night,” you whispered at him as your fingers began to unlace the front of his bottoms.

A low, restrained sound came from Aemond at the combination of your touch and words. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied with cool indifference, supporting himself partially up with his elbows so he could watch you.

A knowing smile spread on your pretty lips as you answered, “you're a bad liar, uncle.” Kissing the flat plane of his abdomen, you tugged the front of his pants down until he was fully freed; hard, solid, and already blazing with heat. You moved those same kisses lower–placing them all around the base of his need until your nose tickled with his scent. His length twitched, the velvety smoothness of him bumping your face.

Above you, he hissed an inward breath, head tilting to the side. “Go on then, this cock isn't going to suck itself now is it?” He crooned, doing his best to appear in control even though his heart thumped wildly with anticipation and the clawing ache to be inside of you–any part of you–had him going mad.

If the slick between your thighs wasn't already unbearable you'd have retorted his taunt. But, you wanted this nearly as much as him. Lifting one of your hands you gripped around his length, pumping slowly, as you rolled your tongue beneath his tip; tasting him, teasing him, coating that part of him with saliva so you could more easily take him into your mouth.

Aemond could have lost it there–would have lost it if he hadn't already fucked his hand to release prior to visiting you. “Did I tell you you could use your hands?” His eye glittered like dragonglass.

Without having to be told again you released your grip and instead held onto the tops of his thighs with both hands, the wholeness of your expression feline. You licked up each side of his cock, circling your tongue around his head, again and again, coating him to your satisfaction. And then, just when you saw Aemond's hips twitch and flex beneath you, you took him into the fullness of your mouth and consumed him.

He groaned, head tipping back. Countless times had he tried to recreate the pleasure you gave him first; no woman ever made him feel the same way and he hated them for it.

You bobbed, and sucked, and savored the hot solid length of him in your mouth. You dragged and worked your tongue against him, too, lost in the heady sensations of him. The quiet sounds he made coaxed you further and soon you became uncaring of the slobbery mess you were leaving on him. Relaxing your throat, you swallowed as much of his cock as you could. When you gagged at the intrusion you pulled your head up, only to do it again. And again. You moaned around him; wanton.

It was too much for Aemond. Somehow he grew even hotter, even harder, and soon one of his hands pushed your head down while his hips bucked up into your mouth. He panted. Peak was so close. Looking down at you, then, he saw how dazed and desperate you were as he fucked your mouth. The knot of pleasure at the base of his spine exploded and he groaned, guttural, as his balls tightened and cock released down your throat.

You about peaked with him. Breathing through your nose you did your best to take all of him, the hot pulses of his length making you clench around nothing.

“Swallow. All of it,” Aemond said down at you, slowly easing the pressure of his hand on your head.

Panting, you did. You showed him your empty mouth with pride. “Dragonseed is never to be wasted, uncle.”

If Aemond had anything intelligible to say it didn’t leave his mouth properly. Both his hands gripped around your upper arms and he yanked you up, maneuvering you atop the bed once more. Reaching to the open belt around his waist he unsheathed his dagger with a whisper of leather and steel. It glinted orange in the chamber’s lowlight. “My sweet, lecherous niece…,” he said darkly, sweetly, pinning you down to the bed as he loomed above you. “I know how to make you a true Targaryen, bastard,” he hissed the last word into the shell of your ear and reveled in the way he saw your throat tighten in defiance.

You tensed beneath him and he laughed.

“My favorite bastard,” he crooned, trailing his dagger up the front of your body. “I will make you my wife.”

Goosebumps pebbled your skin as he teased you, taunted you, thrilled you with the edge of his blade. He never drew blood. It only grazed your shift. “I already am a Targaryen,” you proclaimed, voice strong despite its softness.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight and you will let me. Mother will have us wed by the turn of the new moon.” He tilted his dagger just slight, just enough, and the delicate material of your shift stood no chance against it. He sliced it open to reveal the fullness of your lovely body; your shape, your form, your clean floral scent… all of it made his mind feral. “Marry me, niece.”

A hundred–no, a thousand–things ran through your mind all at once. You saw and felt him already fully hard once again, and the hot press of his cock against your flushed skin had you losing sanity. “I will,” you breathed, nodding. “I will marry you.”

Aemond tossed his dagger away to instead pull your smallclothes down your legs. “My darling betrothed,” he growled, shouldering off his tunic and undershirt as you lay completely bare beneath him. He didn’t even bother kicking his pants off the rest of the way before he moved between your spread thighs. “Let us promise our union now before any Gods that are watching.”

It was wrong. You knew it. And yet… Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and between your thighs. Madness. Surely this was madness. “We can’t,” you protested weakly.

He laughed another dark sound. “Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. We don’t follow the same rules as everyone else.” One of his hands moved over your breasts, sliding and squeezing over them with reverent affection. His other lowered between your legs and the tips of his fingers brushed over your budded pearl. He nearly snarled at the wetness he met there. He circled that bud. Slid over it. He worked your bundle of nerves, watching you all the while.

“A-Aemond!” You gasped, stuttering. Your nipples pebbled firmer as tension built in your belly, tightening in a way that only you were able to make happen. You needn’t any more convincing to give him your maidenhead. So wrong. But, with Aemond? So, so right. Your thighs spilled open wider for him; inviting him.

The rasp of his thighs pressed against the smooth undersides of your own and slowly, carefully, he lined himself up with your dripping entrance and began to press forward.

Your body yielded and the fullness of him was a sensation unlike anything you’d experienced before. His heat seared into you as he sunk, cautiously, through your opening and past your body’s unmarred barrier. It pinched and you winced, blushed face staring up at him with doe eyes.

Full.

You were so full.

You whimpered a little sound as Aemond’s jaw clenched and a groan rumbled deep in his chest. “You’re doing so well,” he mumbled, the intensity of his eye making you dizzy.

Finally, he was seated all the way inside you. With a heaving chest he held the position for a long moment, knowing you needed the time to adjust just as much as he did. He pulled back and eased back in, testing you. Testing himself. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last long. You were absolutely fucking perfect around him. You breathed his name again, gripping onto any part of his body that you could.

Aemond’s movements became a little more sure with each moment. It didn’t take much longer until he was taking you fully. The softness of your breasts rocked with the motion of his thrusts, your face loosening as pleasure began to take over any pain there might have been. His greedy eye raked down the front of your body so he could watch where you were joined. Each time he pulled out his cock glistened with your slick, and each plunge sent you gasping at the pressure. Never had he seen anything that made his cock, and gut, and chest ache with such need. “You look so pretty with my cock inside you,” he said lowly, barely able to make words.

“Feels good, Aem,” you simpered in reply.

His mouth crashed to yours in a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth so your tongues slid against one another. The soft sound of skin slapping on skin began to grow louder as both of you worked into and against each other’s thrusts. “I’m going to mark that pretty little neck so that everyone knows your mine,” he rasped against your skin as he kissed over your chin, your jaw, until he reached your neck. He nipped there, biting harshly, kissing over each bite mark to soothe any lingering sting. He did it over and over, sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth until he knew he’d leave a mark behind.

You trembled beneath him, squirming with pleasure, as he fucked into you at an angle and pace that had you soaring. The balance of pain and pleasure was more than anything you’d felt before and you were wholly at its mercy. You scratched his skin as you squeezed your fingers against his lean muscle, marking him as he marked you. “‘S too much,” you whined, breathless.

He only continued. Panting, he said, “I want to hear you scream my name when you come. Understood?”

You nodded, desperate. “Yes, yes yes yes..!”

His pace grew sloppy, frenzied, as his own high threatened to push him over the edge any second. “Give it to me,” he moaned, pleaded. “Come with me.” One of his hands squeezed over your breast again, pinching and tugging the nipple, while the fingers of the other worked your clit.

“Aemond!” You gasped thinly, covering your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that no doubt released with the intensity of your peak. Aemond’s mouth replaced your hand as climax took him, too, cock twitching as spurt after spurt of his seed filled the deepest parts of your body. You both rode it out together, senses buzzing and fuzzy, while the wonderful post-climax bliss sensations intoxicated you more than any wine.

He carefully slid out from your body and nearly grew fucking hard again as he saw the evidence of your maidenhood upon your clean bedsheets.

“You will be the loveliest bride,” he said, relishing the sight of you glowing from pleasure.

Pulling the top quilts back, you beckoned him in, asking, “stay awhile longer?”

He did.

You laid together, limp and blissful, and for the first time in over three years Aemond found himself fully sated.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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simpforboys · 2 years ago

Note

Just an idea but olo'eyktan!neteyam and preggo!reader but it's that one scene from ice age 3 where the dads like panicking and running around thinking that the baby's coming but its was actually a kick. (LOOK IK THE MOVIES ABOUT 12 FOOT FURRY ELEPHANTS BUT DON"T JUDGE ME ITS A 3AM THOUGHT) (link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QfxmRsWGg_0)

-🍄

i think this is my sign to rewatch the ice age movies (i'm an ice age stan)

right here

olo'eyktan!neteyam x fem!pregnant!reader

summary: when a false rumor gets back to neteyam, it leads the anxious mighty warrior to panic

warnings: fluff, pre-dad!neteyam, swearing, neteyam is my fav boy ever

aged up characters

the raging wind blew neteyam's long braids as he rode his ikran, soldiers following behind him as they made their weekly hunt.

neteyam's ears flicked from the wind, his loincloth and feathered vest blowing gracefully.

neteyam called out to his warriors, circling in on an animal pack.

however, as they were beginning to land their ikrans, a call came in through the ear piece the group were wearing.

"neteyam- it is y/n. she has gone into labor."

neteyam's body froze once he heard lo'ak speak. his heart was pounding as the men and women looked at their leader, waiting for his word.

"continue with the kill."

his command was quick as he took off, ikran roaring as the banshee felt neteyam's nerves. he hadn't noticed his shaky hands and pounding heartbeat, his focus on getting home to you.

he landed quickly in the high camp, surprised there aren't more people panicking.

"where is y/n?" neteyam asked one of the people. the girl just shrugged back in response, watching neteyam take off.

"neteyam!" lo'ak caught sight of his brother. they both ran towards each other.

"where is she?" neteyam rushed.

"over here, c'mon, bro!" lo'ak lead his brother.

"i'm having a baby!" he announced to the clan, excitement taking over his long body.

people whooped and cheered, the women and children cocking their head at the olo'eyktan.

there had been no sign from eywa of you having your child, being only eight months along.

"code blue! code blue!" lo'ak ran with his brother, their large feet padding against the stone ground.

"or pink if it's a girl." neteyam happily slapped his brother's shoulder.

the tent was getting closer, neteyam pausing to grab some fresh water for you. his excitement was turning into nerves as lo'ak looked at his hesitant brother.

"what is wrong?" he asked, confusedly walking up to neteyam.

"it's finally happening... and i-"

"what is finally happening?"

your gentle voice scared both the brothers, your bulging belly appearing from the tent.

"my love- aren't you supposed to be in labor?"

neteyam's giant hand placed itself on your belly, feeling your baby kick against his palm.

"what?" you asked, your brow bow furrowing at your mate.

"oh my eywa- lo'ak i told you! it was just a kick!"

neteyam's ears fell flat as he looked between you and his little brother, the future uncle now blushing from embarrassment.

you rolled your eyes at lo'ak, feeling neteyam's hand travel down near the band of your loincloth. he stood on his knees, face by your tummy as he kissed your belly button.

"you gave sempu (daddy) a scare, baby."

"mhm." you playfully rolled your eyes, softly punching lo'ak in the arm.

"hey!"

the surrounding clan members whom where excited to welcome their future olo'eyktan or tsahik frowned from lo'ak's false rumor.

"that is the second false alarm this month!" a child pouted.

"alright people, nothing to see here." lo'ak pushed away the crowd as they went back to their tasks.

"darling, i know you are nervous. i am too, but that was a bit too much." you cupped neteyam's face as he stood now, slightly towering over you.

your pregnancy made your height shrink slightly, going from 8'8 to 8'6. neteyam kissed your forehead, standing at 9'4.

"i am sorry, i am just scared."

you rubbed your belly as your made pulled you into his embrace.

"i have seen you with tuk and the children, ma neteyam. you are going to be an amazing father."

neteyam reassuringly smiled.

"i will be right here with you every step of the way."

and once the baby did come, neteyam was calmer than ever (on the outside, not internally).

this was so cute omg

#neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam #simpforboys #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully smut #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam oneshot #olo’eyktan neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar 2022 #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #pregnant!reader #avatar neteyam

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lemon-shortbread · 1 year ago

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You’d been teasing your baby daddy all day about a surprise. He would ask and you’d wouldn’t say a thing saying he’d have to wait till tonight to find out. He immediately thought it was something sexy for the bedroom but what he didn’t realise is that he actually was a baby daddy right now.

You walked over when the time was right. He was lay on the bed completely naked wondering why you still had your clothes on. You stood there cute as can be and smiled before saying. Well here’s your surprise!

His view:

aljfhdhdhhsdh oh my gosh

This!! Hear me out right, This, but climbing on top of him, straddling him and then letting this happen ❣️ Taking his hands and letting them explore my body while it grows, letting him figure out that me being on top of him like this, a view thats all to familiar to him, gave him exactly the results we both wanted. The weight of his growing little one(s?) inside of me slowly becoming more and more apparent as I grow, him knowing that he did this, and that he’s what caused this change, pulling up my dress so that he can see that this was really happening, and i’m sure he knows that this was going to happen many more times after this 💕

#preg kink #pregnancy kink #rapid pregnancy #whoops im um really into being claimed and shit and it showed here #as did she lol

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cameronsprincess · 1 year ago

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Idk if you can make this into a fic (if you can please do so) but I just wanted to share this thought: so it’s starting to get colder outside and the pogues suggest going in the hot tub but you don’t get and just sit on a chair nearby and then you’re offered a drink and you decline and then you’re offered some weed and decline and someone is like “y/n not going in the hot tub, not drinking, not smoking, you pregnant or something” in a joking tone but then you just smile at jj and everyone realizes that you are and you tell jj that you were gonna tell him tonight before you guys went to sleep.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of alcohol and weed, jj fluff!🥰

loved this request, unsure how i feel about my execution of it, hopefully i did it justice, i loooove me some jj fluff 🥺🤍

“It’s cold out here, who wants to get in the hot tub?” you hear John B ask.

All of your friends had excitedly nodded at the idea, rushing inside to get themselves ready, no one noticing that you had remained seated. You crossed your arms, rubbing your hands up the sides of your arms as you waited on your friends to return.

JJ was the first to emerge back outside, his face pulled into a frown when he noticed you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“What’s wrong princess, don’t wanna join us in the Cat’s Ass?”

You giggle at the horrendous name he’d given the hot tub, shaking your head as you lift your head to meet his blue eyes.

“No i’m okay”

JJ frowns more, plopping in the chair beside you and placing a warm hand on your clothed thigh.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

You give him a small smile, placing your hand on top of his large one.

“No ‘m fine, promise”

He nods his head, ultimately letting the subject go and hopping into the hot tub, all of your friends joining him shortly after.

“Y/N are you sure you don’t wanna join us?” Sarah asks, her arms tossed over the side of the tub.

“No i’m okay Sare, thank you though”

Your friends glanced around at one another, their eyes finally landing on JJ who just gives them a small shrug.

“I’m gonna go grab some beers, J, you still rollin’ up?” John B asks as he pulls himself from the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around himself.

“Yeah already got some rolled, we’ll light one up when you get back”

John B grins widely, giving a small nod and rushing into the chateau, reappearing minutes later with 6 beers in hand. He begins passing the beers out, slowly walking toward you last, offering you the final beer.

You awkwardly cough, shaking your head ‘no’. “ ‘M good JB, thank you though”

John B narrows his eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side, “What’s up with you Y/L/N? You’ve never been one to turn down a cold beer, or time in the hot tub”

You awkwardly laugh, unsure of what to say to that. You did have your reasons for declining everything so far, but you weren’t ready to speak on it, not until you talked to JJ first.

“I’m just not feeling the best” you lie, but it wasn’t a complete lie, you hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately.

“Well are you at least gonna smoke with us? That might help!” Kiara chimes in, the joint in her hand as she takes a small puff of the substance.

“No, I-I’m okay”

Your friends were beginning to make it very hard to keep your secret, offering you all the things they knew you loved but couldn’t partake in at the moment.

Pope chuckles, “What, are you pregnant or something? No hot tub, no beer, no weed”

His tone was joking, but the smile on your face and the soft look you’d given JJ was confirmation enough for everyone.

“Wait- You’re pregnant?” JJ asks, hopping up and out of the tub, rushing to your side quickly.

He drops to his knees, his arms flying around your waist as he rests his head softly on your stomach.

You run your fingers through his soft blond locks, “Yeah, I just found out today. I was gonna tell you before we went to bed tonight, but I guess now works too”

You hear the whoops and hollers from your friends, everyone rushing from the tub and surrounding you and JJ. You felt your eyes well up with tears, the happiness surrounding you making your heart swell.

JJ chokes out a laugh, his eyes filled with tears as well as he runs his hand over your belly, “My girl is having my baby”

You giggle, letting a tear fall from your eyes, “Yes, we’re having a baby, J”

JJ TAGLIST: @rafeism @ivy-34 @writingjjfics @always-reading @jesssssmaybank @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @lizcameron @xprloki @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols

jj master list | requests | taglist form

#jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj fic #jj fluff #tw pregnancy #obx

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astarioffsimpmain · 7 months ago

Text

Halloween with Halsin

Halsin x F!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy (not accidental)

Synopsis: You and Halsin oversee the now adopted children from Baldur's Gate as they carve gourd lanterns in preparation for Liar's Night

Author's Note: Happy Half-o-ween part 2! 🎃

Little faces lit up with joy and recognition as you and Halsin wheeled the cart of gourds up to the clearing. "We're celebrating Liar's Night!" A young tiefling boy cried out, jumping up and down in his place.

"We are!" You replied, and laughed as a myriad of cheers and whoops broke out in response. "Daddy Halsin and I thought you all might want to carve your own gourd lanterns this year, but remember to save those gooey insides and put them in your bucket. We're baking pumpkin bread with it in a few days." Your smile only grew, watching the children gather around to pick out their pumpkins, sharing and swapping much more graciously than many adults you knew. You sighed and allowed your eyes to fall closed in contentment when you felt your lover's arms encircle you in his warmth.

"You do so well with them, my heart." He murmured, his lips tickling the crown of your head.

"They make that easy." You replied, then twisted in his arms to allow your own lips access to his cheek, his neck, and his shoulder. You dropped chaste but tender kisses on his sweat-dampened skin before tucking your nose into the crook of his neck. "You make it even easier." He chuckled in your ear and tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you as close as possible.

"As do you, sweet one. As do you."

"Daddy Halsin, this one has an ouchie." A young human girl toddled over with a small pumpkin that sported a heavy bruising on one side. The Druid released you with a smile and a wink and bent down to the little girl, taking the gourd and inspecting the aforementioned injury.

"It seems that it does, little one. Everything in nature will be marked up over time, but that does not mean it is worthless. Let's carve the face right here across this bruise and make it unique and beautiful. Yes?" The little girl nodded, a small smile on her lips, and reached up to drag her little fingers over the scars on Halsin's face before running back to join the other children.

"She would make a remarkable druid." You noted with a twinkle in your eye as Halsin returned to you.

"She would. And should she choose to walk that path, I would be honored to guide her." He replied, his eyes soft and warm, trained on the children of every race that you and he had chosen to raise. You gazed around the former Shadow-cursed land with an insurmountable pride in your chest. When you and your lover had departed Baldur's Gate, you had taken with you not only the many orphaned children left from the dearth and tyranny, but the homeless adults as well. You had traveled back to the place Thaniel and Oliver called home, and made a place there for them all.

And because of Halsin, along with the great help of Jaheira and her Harpers, they had flourished into a thriving and beautiful community. Adults had adopted and taken in children, and no one lived without food or a place to sleep when the rain inevitably fell. This extended to you and Halsin, who lived in a small cottage overlooking the field of vegetables and fruits Halsin grew and, with your help, harvested and used in dishes for anyone who wanted them. Your house was a popular destination for all, adults and children alike, and you had grown used to hosting people from the village many a night each week.

You had been brimming with excitement for this moment for months. You were the one who had convinced Halsin to celebrate Liar's Night. It was one of the fondest memories you carried from living in Baldur's Gate, and these children having been from there, you knew would recognize it. It was when you reasoned that the children most likely had never been able to participate due to their inability to purchase the supplies for a protective gourd lantern - let alone have a home to protect - that Halsin had relented. "I truly find myself unable to say no to you, my heart." He had raked a hand down his face, but you knew he would enjoy the experience once the time came.

You were pleased to see how right you were as the large Druid began a self-imposed patrol through the sea of children and their carving work, pausing to help any child that requested it. You chuckled and did the same for the other half, working together until each child held an empty pumpkin with a face carved into the side. "Remember to have your parents or older siblings light the candles!" You called as little legs carried each one of them back to the warmth of their homes. Once you and Halsin had gathered all the buckets containing pumpkin seeds and fillings and pooled them into a sealed container to save for later, the Druid took your small hand in his much larger one and led you back home.

"You beautiful, wonderful woman." He was muttering lowly in your ear the moment the cottage door closed behind you. His hands found purchase on your hips and he nuzzled into you, breathing in your scent as he explored your form with his palms.

"I told you that you would enjoy it." You giggled as he glided the tips of his fingers up your spine, causing you to arch up into him.

"That you did, my heart, and you were right, as you so often are. I love you so deeply that Silvanus himself must feel it beat through my aching heart. He must know by now that half of my prayers are to him and half of them are to you. I have never felt an ardor so great in my 365 years of life."

"Halsin, I hope you know by now that I feel much the same way, and while I cannot possibly contend with your declarations of poetry, I can give you this." You said softly, taking his hand into your own once again and pressing it to your abdomen.

His eyes lit up in hopeful recognition, disbelief coloring his handsome features. "My heart, do you mean-?" He paused, as if he was too afraid to voice it aloud.

"You're to be a father, Halsin." You smiled, your eyes misting over with tears full of adoration for the man that had become your life partner. And you laughed; a beautiful, breathless thing, as you watched tears cloud his eyes to mirror your own.

"By Silvanus's blessing, I could have asked for no better news!" He boomed, lifting you into his arms to swing you around. Your joined laughter and elation filled the little cottage as the two of you rediscovered one another again and again, falling in love as though it were the first time.

A blessed Leaffall, indeed.

fin

Tagging Darlings: @knightofmight01

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin fluff #halsin bg3 fluff #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x fem!reader #halsin x female tav #halsin x f!reader #halsin x f!tav #Halloween with Halsin #halfway to halloween #half o ween #baldurs gate 3

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babybluebex · 1 month ago

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anyway you could please write more Dominic/ angus fics either just domestic life, or pregnant read?

ok i talked a lot ab domestic dom, but domestic angus... 👀

first of all, let's paint a picture: you meet him at college, it's very meet-cute while in your undergrad at harvard university, you're both studying in the library and need to use the same big dusty textbook at the same time so you sit next to each other and share it, but it's not a lot of studying a lot more whispered conversations and flirting, and he walks you back to your dorm and as he watches you go inside, he thinks, for the first time in his life, how much he would like to have a life with you, like sure he's been horny before and has had crushes, but never anything like that

anyway fast forward, you're both graduated and in your post-grad programs, and you've been dating for like 5 years at this point?? angus got close to proposing to you when you both graduated but decided not to do that bc he didn't want to be the reason that you decided not to pursue grad school, so he's kept that to himself (but fully has a ring and is just waiting for what he thinks is the right time)

WELL you discover one day in march that you think?? you might be?? pregnant?? and obviously you and angus had talked about kids before, you've been dating for 5 years, of course you've talked about it, so you know that angus is riding the dr. spencer reid train, ab how he's worried that he has his father's sickness and how he doesn't want to pass it down to any potential kids and how he thinks he'll ultimately be a bad father bc look at the material he has to work with yknow

but you tell him that you're going to the doctor to see but you're like "it's possible that i'm just late on my period, the stress of startin g my masters program yknow, but i'm keeping you updated just in case" but he's like "can i come with you?" and you tell him it's a little useless bc you're certain you're just late like "i know what's gonna happen, i'm going to the doctor's tomorrow morning, and then tomorrow night my period will come, and i'll have been paranoid for nothing" but he's like "nah if there's a chance, i'm gonna be there"

and. whoops. but you've been so careful! you don't know how this happened! but angus is immediately very excited, and you talk it over that night at dinner and you're like "i do want a baby... i just.. i dunno, i thought we'd be married and shit by the time we had a baby..." and angus instantly gets up from the table and goes and gets the ring he has, and he's like "here :) we can get married before the baby gets here :) if you'd like that :)"

and of course you do, and you ask him like "how long have you had that???" and he's all pinky and shy like "... a while..." and you DO chalk your crying up to pregnancy hormones, but angus slips the ring onto your hand and he can't stop cheesing all night

and the next 10 months fly by in a snap, you tell all your friends and family that you're engaged and pregnant, and of course angus's mom and stepdad want to make a big deal out of it, like want a big traditional church wedding and shit, but like that's not you?? and you're not gonna compromise with your mother in law like you refuse to, and especially when your tummy starts to swell and press against your jeans, you don't want to try to pretend that you're anything but you, no matter how badly judy clotfeltter wants you to be some perfect sweet little wife to her son

you end up marrying angus right around halloween time, a cold breeze chills your spine and angus holds your hand as you go up the steps to city hall, one of your friends from university is your legal witness, and your marriage is finalized with the pen leaking a lil on your fingers so the polaroid your friend snaps has you with a smudge of black ink on your cheek that you had no idea about until angus wipes it off with his thumb

and angus oh my god, he is RELISHING in being a husband and a father-to-be, he never ever thought he' d be the domestic type but he finds such peace in the promise that you're there for him no matter what, doesn't matter if his doctoral advisor told him that he has to push back his research deadline or if his mother had called and mentioned something about his father, he knows for a fact that you'll be on the couch when he gets home, surely listening to the new linda ronstadt record and singing to your belly, and that he can come lay his head in your lap and you'll brush out his curls and kiss his ear and listen to him bitch and moan and get everything out of his system

and every night before bed, after your shower, he insists on (and gets a little pouty if you deny him) rubbing cocoa butter into your tummy and kissing your stretch marks and listening to you bitch and moan about how your back hurts and you feel your heartburn in your toes and how you hate hate HATE the way your body doesn't even look like yours anymore, and when you get teary and whimper out how you're so nervous and scared about everything, angus is so good to you, he holds you and wipes up your tears and holds your face and assures you that any kid who get to you call his mom is like winning the lottery here bc "baby, you are so kind and smart and funny, and god you're a knockout, fuckin the best woman to ever walk the earth, i know it, and baby won't have a choice but to love you and appreciate the fuck outta you"

and you nest like a motherfucker even though you don't know the baby's sex, you agonize over what color to paint the walls of the nursery (which was angus's office previously, but he donated most of his old textbooks that were just taking up space, although he DID keep the like 6 year old copy of aurelius' meditations for some reason, even tho he's like never even opened it) and finally angus helps you decide on a nice light green, soft to the eyes, but he will not let you do any of the painting or even be in the room bc "paint fumes, mrs tully, bad for you and bad for baby!"

eventually, christmas comes and goes, and new years too, and you're so pregnant that you feel like a fucking blimp, and baby will not stop kicking your ribs omg, but angus adores pressing his palm to your stomach and feeling baby kick his hand, his eyes glitter and he smiles all lopsided "holy shit..."

and then one night you're grading papers (since part of your masters' program requires you to TA for at least one semester, so might as well do the spring term before baby arrives) when there's a tight cramp low in your belly and suddenly your seat and sweatpants are soaked, and you're like "umm??!!"

and angus is out with some friends that night, first time in a WHILE that he gets to hang out so OF COURSE baby decides it's his time to shine, and you phone the bar angus told you they'd be at, and you ask the bartender to ask for angus, and he comes to the phone pretty quick "hey, what's up?" he asks all casual-like

"angus i either just pissed myself right now or my water just broke"

he tells you to stay right where you are and he'll come get you, and you like?? don't know what to do with yourself?? so you change clothes out of your damp pants and get the bag that angus had meticulously packed in prep for this exact moment, a onesie for baby and shit like that

and angus wants so badly to be in the delivery room but he's like Not A Fan of it, he loves you and every part of you, as well as every part of his baby, but the sight of all of it makes his stomach turn, so he stands upwind by your head and focuses all on your face, wiping up the sweat that dots your hairline and trying to keep you calm

all things considered, it happens quick as fuck, you get to the hospital around 10pm , and by 4am your baby is earth-side, and the relief that washes over you when you hear their tiny little screaming is all warm in your chest, and you let your head fall back and you laugh a little "jesus christ..." and angus kisses your face and pushes your hair out of your eyes "oh my fucking god, baby... we've got a baby"

and when you see them for the very first time, all cleaned up, your eyes water up at the little pink hat they put on her fuzzy head— you had never learned the sex on purpose, and your little daughter is all rosy and small and she's here, she's real and here, and you had never understood what people meant when they said that instincts kick in until the nurse puts her on your chest, and your arms come and cuddle her and gently rub her back, and you softly shush her whines and she settles down in an instant

"hi pretty girl" you whisper because she is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and you see the little bump on the bridge of her nose, and you look up to see the same nose on her father, and you can't help but cry

and seeing angus holding her for the first time, his big hands dwarf her tiny little 6 and a half pound body, and he's looking at her like she's a space alien like "holy shit... our daughter... she smells really good... like, warm milk or somethin..."

and getting little miss violet tully home, and angus hangs out in her nursery and watches her sleep, and there's a couple times in those first few weeks where you're like "ang... you have a meeting on campus in an hour..." and he's just heart-eyes at violet like "but i just wanna watch her forever!"

her hair starts to come in, brassy but dark, just like angus's baby hair, and her blue newborn eyes pretty quickly darken down to a dark hazel-y brown, and you're talking to some friends of yours like "i carry her for close to a year, and she ends up looking nothing like me and everything like her father"

but in the morning, when angus gets violet up from her crib and brings her into the bedroom to wake you up and cuddle, with your husband's cheek on your shoulder and your daughter cooing on your chest, everything seems so right

#bex answers #anon ask #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #dominic sessa x reader

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amethystarachnid · 27 days ago

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Please, please, can you write a second part of Room for Two for me? First, thank you so much for the first part, I loved it, and the cute way you wrote it, Dumpling is beautiful 😍🧡

But now, I’d love to see their life after graduation. Now they have their own beautiful house they bought together, the jobs of their dreams, married, another furry baby to keep Dumpling company, and maybe reader is already pregnant too? Imagine how cute it’ll be Tony and reader designing the baby’s room together? 🥺🧡

ROOM FOR TWO - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.8k

ᯓ★ Summary: Graduation finally arrives and with it the struggles of being two fresh graduates with no clue on how the job world works. But you and Tony are sure you can do everything together, your love stronger than ever with a new fur baby and another big surprise on the way.

ᯓ★ TW(s): pure fluff, twin pregnancy

ᯓ★ AU: Accidental roommates

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The day of graduation is a blur of ceremony, speeches, and the sea of caps and gowns. You and Tony are sitting side-by-side, dressed in identical caps and gowns, trying to look like the solemn graduates you’re supposed to be, but Tony keeps leaning over to whisper comments in your ear about the people on stage or the terrible music playing in the background. You have to bite back laughter more than once, playfully elbowing him to get him to quiet down, though your cheeks ache from smiling. Dumpling would have loved to be here, you think, though she would probably be far more interested in batting at your tassels than the pomp and circumstance of it all.

Finally, you hear your names called, one after the other, and you step up to receive your diplomas, pride swelling in your chest as you glance over at Tony. When it’s his turn to walk across the stage, he makes a dramatic show of waving to the crowd, earning a mixture of laughter and eye rolls, and you can’t help but beam with pride. Despite all the ups and downs, the late-night study sessions, and the endless cups of coffee, you’ve both made it here together. You cheer him on, clapping so loudly you almost drown out the official applause, and when he walks back to you, he pulls you into a spontaneous hug, lifting you off your feet right in front of everyone.

After the ceremony, the campus is bustling with families and friends snapping photos, laughing, and celebrating, but for you, it’s just you and Tony. He tugs you aside, away from the crowd, down one of the quieter paths near the library. He’s grinning, eyes shining with excitement, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope with both your names written on it.

“Guess what?” he says, holding it up. “This came in the mail yesterday, and I figured, what better time to open it than right now?”

You look at him, heart pounding as you take the envelope. It’s from the company you both applied to—the one you’ve been dreaming about for years, the one that’s so competitive it felt like a long shot, even with your best efforts. Together, you tear open the envelope, unfolding the letter inside, scanning the words. When you reach the line that says, “We’re thrilled to offer you both positions,” you gasp, and Tony lets out a whoop, spinning you around in pure, unfiltered joy.

“We did it,” you say, voice full of disbelief as you look at him, the reality sinking in.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into another hug. “We did it! We’re both in!” His enthusiasm is infectious, and you laugh, feeling like you’re on top of the world, the future stretching out in front of you like an open road.

With your new jobs confirmed, it’s only a matter of weeks before you and Tony pack up the apartment you’ve shared all this time and make plans to move to the city center, close to where you’ll both be working. The day you leave campus is bittersweet. You walk through the now-quiet campus one last time, reminiscing about the memories you’ve made here—the countless study sessions in the library, the late nights in the dorms, the spontaneous runs to the campus coffee shop when you needed an extra caffeine boost. It’s strange to think of leaving it all behind, but with Tony by your side, it feels less like an ending and more like a new chapter beginning.

Moving day is chaotic. Boxes are stacked everywhere, labeled in varying degrees of legibility, some scrawled by Tony’s messy handwriting, others by your own. Dumpling watches the commotion with wide, curious eyes, perched on top of the couch like a little queen surveying her kingdom. Every so often, she bats at a loose strip of packing tape or tries to squeeze herself into a box that’s far too small, and you and Tony can’t help but laugh at her antics.

The apartment you’ve chosen is perfect—or at least as perfect as two just-graduated college students can afford. It’s on the small side, with creaky floors and slightly outdated cabinets, but it has large windows that let in an abundance of light, and from the living room, you have a view of the bustling city below. The first night, you and Tony collapse onto the floor, too exhausted to even think about unpacking, Dumpling curling up between you as you lie there, looking up at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Tony murmurs, reaching over to take your hand.

You squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “I know. It doesn’t feel real yet.”

He turns his head to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For… everything. For sticking with me, for helping me get here. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

You feel a lump in your throat, touched by his words. “Right back at you. I don’t think I’d have made it through some of those all-nighters without you keeping me sane.”

He laughs, a deep, genuine laugh, and in that moment, you realize just how lucky you are to have found him. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling his smile against yours as he pulls you closer.

The weeks that follow are a whirlwind as you both adjust to your new jobs, new schedules, and life in the city. Dumpling quickly becomes a fixture in the apartment, staking out her favorite sunny spots and delighting in her new vantage points where she can watch the people and cars go by. She’s thrilled with the large windows, and you often find her perched on the windowsill, tail twitching as she watches the city below with wide, curious eyes.

Your jobs are demanding, but every evening, no matter how late you get home, you and Tony make time for each other. Some nights, you cook together, experimenting with simple recipes and laughing when things inevitably go wrong. Other nights, you order takeout and eat it right out of the containers, sprawled out on the couch with Dumpling tucked between you, her tiny head poking out to sniff at whatever you’re eating. It’s a routine that feels both familiar and new, comforting in its simplicity.

The city itself is vibrant and alive, filled with endless places to explore. On weekends, you and Tony take long walks through the streets, discovering hidden coffee shops, bookstores, and parks. Dumpling becomes a little explorer in her own right; you buy her a small harness and leash so she can accompany you to the park nearby. It’s amusing to watch her little paws gingerly tread over the grass, her eyes wide as she takes in the bustling world around her. Tony likes to joke that she’s a “city cat” now, and you find yourself snapping countless photos of her as she discovers her new territory.

One evening, after a particularly hectic day at work, you come home feeling drained, your shoulders tense from hours spent hunched over your desk. Tony senses it immediately and guides you to the couch, gently massaging your shoulders as Dumpling hops up, purring and nudging your hand. The three of you sit there in the soft, warm glow of the apartment, the stress of the day slowly melting away as Tony’s fingers work their magic.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, “no matter how rough the day is, coming home to you and Dumpling makes it all worth it.”

You look up at him, smiling softly. “I feel the same way.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you close your eyes, savoring the quiet, intimate moment.

As time passes, you and Tony start to feel more settled. The city that once seemed so big and intimidating now feels like home, a place filled with familiar streets, favorite spots, and memories that you’ve created together. Your jobs are challenging but fulfilling, and each new accomplishment feels even more meaningful because you have Tony to share it with. Every so often, you still catch those envious glances from people on the street or coworkers who haven’t quite gotten over Tony’s charm, but it doesn’t bother you anymore. You know that he’s yours, just as much as you’re his, and that’s all that matters.

One night, as you’re lying in bed, Dumpling curled up at your feet, Tony turns to you with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I was thinking,” he begins, his tone hesitant, “what if… we stay here for good? Like, really settle down.”

You blink, surprised but not entirely caught off guard. You’ve thought about it, too—the idea of building a life here, with him, in this apartment, this city. You smile, reaching out to take his hand. “I think I’d like that.”

His face lights up, and he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Me too,” he whispers.

It’s a simple moment, but it feels monumental, a promise of a future that you’re both excited to build together. You fall asleep that night with your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you, Dumpling’s soft purring filling the room like a lullaby.

Years from now, you’ll look back on these days—the late-night takeout, the lazy weekends spent exploring the city, the quiet evenings in with Dumpling—and you’ll remember them as some of the best days of your life. Because here, in this little apartment, you’ve found everything you need. And as Tony holds you close, his arms wrapped around you, you know that, no matter where life takes you, you’ll always have this place, this moment, this love.

It starts on a rainy Thursday. You and Tony are on your way home after a particularly grueling day, the kind that feels like it should’ve ended hours ago. The two of you are drenched by the time you reach the apartment building’s front steps, even with the umbrella, and your only thought is getting inside, slipping into cozy clothes, and ordering something comforting for dinner.

Then you hear it—a tiny, pitiful meow that somehow cuts through the downpour.

You freeze, peering around in the dim light, your gaze finally landing on a small, soaked bundle huddled under the awning by the building’s door. It’s a kitten, barely larger than your hand, its fur matted from the rain, its big eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation. It looks up at you, letting out another weak meow, and your heart shatters.

“Oh, no…” you murmur, already bending down to reach for it.

Tony follows, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Guess we’re going to have to get used to being a two-cat household, huh?” He gives you a small, fond smile, and the kitten reaches out a tentative paw, making a soft chirping noise. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

You laugh softly, ignoring his teasing as you gingerly pick up the shivering little creature, cradling it close to your chest. “Look at her, Tony,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “She’s just… she’s so helpless.”

He wraps an arm around you both, guiding you inside. “Alright, I’m sold,” he says, pulling the door open with his free hand. “Guess Dumpling’s getting a little sister.”

Once you’re in the apartment, you make quick work of finding a fluffy towel to dry her off while Tony prepares a shallow dish of warm milk. Dumpling, who’s lounging lazily on the back of the couch, eyes the new addition with the faintest hint of curiosity but seems more annoyed at the idea of sharing her territory.

The little orange kitten, still trembling slightly, settles into your lap, kneading her tiny paws into the fabric of the towel as she drinks, her eyes never leaving yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a fierce protectiveness over this small, vulnerable creature, and you can already imagine her becoming part of your little family.

As the days pass, she adjusts quickly. Her orange fur, now fluffy and clean, gives her the look of a tiny, mischievous tiger. She’s lively and fearless, pouncing on everything from Dumpling’s tail to Tony’s toes, chasing after shadows and batting at imaginary creatures with boundless energy. Tony, ever the playful spirit himself, takes to calling her “Pumpkin,” both for her orange coat and her wild, playful energy that fills the apartment with laughter and life.

“Pumpkin it is,” you say one night, watching as Tony gently scratches her behind the ears, his expression filled with such unguarded affection that it makes your heart ache.

Dumpling eventually warms up to her new sibling, the two of them becoming inseparable partners in crime, though Dumpling still looks at you from time to time as if to say, Wasn’t I enough?

It isn’t long after Pumpkin joins your little family that Tony makes the decision to leave his job. He’s been restless lately, his gaze often drifting out the apartment window as if he’s searching for something that’s just beyond his reach. When he talks about his work, you can sense his frustration, the feeling that he’s capable of more, that he’s meant to create something of his own.

One night, after the two of you have finally settled down for dinner and the cats are contentedly snoozing on the couch, he takes your hand, looking at you with that determined, focused expression that always signals he’s about to do something bold.

“I want to start my own company,” he says, voice steady but eyes betraying the hint of vulnerability beneath his determination. “I know it’s risky. I know it’s going to be hard—maybe harder than anything I’ve done before. But I need to do this. I want to create something… something that’s mine.”

You study his face, seeing the quiet intensity in his gaze, and you realize just how much this dream means to him. The job he has now might pay well, but it’s stifling him. You’ve seen him come home, drained and dissatisfied, too many nights, and you can’t bear the thought of him feeling trapped in a life that doesn’t fulfill him.

Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hand. “Then do it, Tony. I believe in you. I know this is what you’re meant to do.”

His shoulders relax, and he lets out a long breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “You… you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You reach up, brushing a lock of hair from his face, smiling softly. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll keep working, and we’ll make it work. We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

A small, grateful smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. “Yeah, we have.” His voice is thick with emotion, and he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how much it means to me… that you’re willing to do this. That you believe in me.”

With that, Tony makes the leap, leaving behind the stability of his job to throw himself into building his own business. At first, things are rougher than either of you anticipated. His days are consumed with meetings, networking events, late nights hunched over his laptop, trying to secure funding, struggling to get his ideas off the ground. The income you bring home is just enough to cover your essentials, and every month is a delicate balancing act, stretching paychecks and counting every penny.

Pumpkin and Dumpling seem to sense the shift, often curling up beside him as he works late into the night, their silent companionship a comfort amid the stress. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night to find him still at his desk, eyes bleary but unwavering, his determination burning brighter than ever. You bring him coffee and gentle encouragement, rubbing his shoulders or simply sitting beside him, your presence grounding him as he pours everything he has into making his dream a reality.

But there are nights when the weight of it all becomes too much, when the bills pile up and the uncertainties loom large. One night, after an especially difficult week, he comes home, his face drawn and exhausted, his shoulders slumped with a heaviness you’ve never seen before. He sinks onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, and you feel your heart break at the sight of him so defeated.

You sit beside him, reaching out to gently rub his back, and he finally looks up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “What if… what if this doesn’t work?” he whispers, his voice cracking. “What if I’m just… dragging us both down?”

You shake your head, tears filling your own eyes as you reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “Tony, look at me,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re not dragging us down. You’re trying to build something amazing, something that will change our lives. And I’m here because I believe in you. I love you, and I know that, no matter how long it takes, you’re going to make this work.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes at it, his expression crumbling as he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he’s afraid to let go. You cling to him just as fiercely, your own tears falling as you whisper reassurances, promises of a future that you’ll build together, no matter how long it takes or how hard it gets.

“You know…” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder, “I’ve thought about what I’d do if things worked out. When things work out.” He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, his gaze filled with a raw, unguarded vulnerability. “I want to marry you. I want to make this official… as soon as I can give you the life you deserve.”

Your breath catches, and you reach up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped. “Tony, I don’t need anything fancy. I don’t need a big house or a huge income. I just need you. This… everything we have here, with Pumpkin and Dumpling and us… this is all I need.”

He chokes out a laugh, his hand coming up to cover yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “You say that now, but one day… one day, I’m going to give you the world, I promise.”

You shake your head, smiling through your tears. “All I want is you, Tony. Just you.”

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, all the worries, all the fears, fade away. It’s just the two of you, together, stronger than any struggle that comes your way. And as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that, no matter what challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together, with a love that can withstand anything.

The next day, Tony is back at his desk, his determination renewed, his drive stronger than ever. And each night, as you come home from work, you find him there, pushing forward, fueled by the promise he made to you. And slowly, bit by bit, his hard work begins to pay off. Clients come in, investors take notice, and his little company starts to grow, the future you both dreamed of coming within reach.

Years of grit, late nights, and unwavering resolve pay off, and Stark Industries becomes the name on everyone’s lips. Tony’s vision—a dream that he’d clung to even through the darkest moments—is finally a reality, and not just any reality but a monumental success. Word spreads quickly; clients are no longer just trickling in—they’re arriving in droves. Investors who had once overlooked Tony’s pitches now scramble to buy shares, and the profits start to soar. With every new partnership and product launch, Stark Industries climbs higher, taking Tony and you along for the ride.

And with this sudden, extraordinary success comes change. You and Tony move from your cozy apartment into a breathtaking penthouse, one with towering windows that offer a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape. The penthouse is all steel, glass, and modern sophistication, with soaring ceilings and an open layout that feels both grand and intimate. In the center of the space is a large, plush sectional that becomes Dumpling and Pumpkin’s new kingdom. They lounge on it as if they’ve always known that one day, this high-rise palace would be theirs.

On your first night in the new penthouse, you and Tony stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city’s twinkling lights. He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, both of you quiet as you take in the surreal view. You marvel at how far you’ve come together, from cramped dorm rooms and tight budgets to this—the culmination of years of relentless dedication and an unbreakable bond that had weathered everything thrown at it.

“I never thought we’d make it here,” you murmur, resting your hand over his. “It feels… unreal.”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Believe me, I’m still processing it, too.” He turns you around to face him, his eyes warm and serious as he holds you close. “But I wouldn’t be here without you. Every time I doubted myself, every time I thought I couldn’t do this, you were there, telling me I could. I owe all of this to you.”

You shake your head, smiling as you look up at him. “We built this together, Tony. You and me. And Dumpling and Pumpkin,” you add, laughing as you glance over at your cats, who are now nestled together on the couch like two furry queens.

His gaze shifts, something tender and unspoken in his expression. “Then I think it’s time I make things official.”

You blink, momentarily confused, until he gently takes your hand, guiding you toward the center of the penthouse. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, dark blue velvet box. Your heart pounds as he opens it to reveal a stunning ring—a brilliant, intricately set diamond that catches the light, shimmering with a fire of its own. The sight of it takes your breath away, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t speak, just staring at the symbol of everything you and Tony have built together.

He drops to one knee, his hand still holding yours, his eyes soft and filled with love. “From the first day we moved in together, I knew there was no one else I wanted to go through life with. You’ve been my partner, my inspiration, and my best friend through everything. And now… I want you to be my forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears sting your eyes, and you feel your heart swell with a joy so intense you can barely contain it. “Yes,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper as you nod, the word coming out again, stronger this time. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

A relieved, joyful laugh escapes him as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling ever so slightly. He stands, pulling you into his arms, and you kiss him, the world around you blurring as the reality of it settles over you.

When you finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you grinning like two love-struck kids. “I can’t wait to start forever with you,” he says softly, his voice choked with emotion.

“Neither can I.” You reach up, touching his face, memorizing every detail, every line and angle, your chest bursting with happiness.

Behind you, Dumpling and Pumpkin observe the moment with disinterest, already settling into the lavish life they seem to have instinctively known would one day belong to them. And as you and Tony hold each other in the dim glow of the penthouse lights, the city glittering below, you realize that every struggle, every sleepless night, and every whispered promise has led you here—to a life you’ve built together, and a future that, now, feels limitless.

The wedding planning unfolds with more ease and joy than you ever expected. With the newfound success and wealth, Tony insists that you both have the freedom to go all out. He’s so animated about the entire process—sifting through floral arrangements, sketching out seating charts, even excitedly browsing suit designs. Despite the resources at your disposal, though, you both agree: you want something beautiful, but simple. Intimate, elegant, a true celebration of all the quiet moments and love you’ve shared.

You choose a venue just outside the city, a sprawling garden tucked away in the countryside. It’s the kind of place that feels like magic, with sun-dappled fields, flowering vines, and a historic stone hall where the reception will take place. The guest list remains small, just close friends and family. Even so, the evening promises to be grand in its own understated way, the joy and anticipation electric in the air.

When the day arrives, the garden glows under the afternoon sun, warm and golden, with a gentle breeze stirring the air. Pumpkin and Dumpling are staying with a friend, probably napping in their usual lazy contentment, but somehow you feel their spirits there with you, a little touch of home that completes the day. As you walk down the aisle, the world fades around you. All you see is Tony, waiting at the end, his gaze fixed on you with a look of awe and wonder that makes you feel like the only person in the universe.

The ceremony is filled with laughter and love, heartfelt vows exchanged as tears shine in both your eyes. When he promises to love you “through every late night, every crazy dream, and every step of the journey,” his voice catches, and you reach for his hand, grounding him just as you always have.

The reception flows seamlessly afterward, your guests mingling under a canopy of twinkling lights, soft music drifting through the air. The food is impeccable, a blend of both your favorite dishes, and everyone laughs as Tony makes a dramatic toast, recounting the early days of your relationship with a fondness that leaves you both blushing and laughing.

As the evening deepens, waitstaff come around with glasses of wine, and laughter and merriment fill the air. You accept a glass to keep up appearances, even though you hold it without sipping. For weeks now, you’ve been carrying a secret close to your heart—a secret you’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to share.

Tony, as perceptive as ever, notices right away. As you’re both sharing a moment alone by the garden edge, he reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours as he lowers his voice, eyes narrowing in concern. “Hey, sweetheart, you’ve barely touched your wine. Are you okay?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a grin that’s threatening to spill over. You weren’t sure how you’d break the news to him, but this moment, here and now, feels absolutely right. With his warm hand around yours and the gentle scent of garden flowers in the air, you can already picture his reaction.

“Actually,” you begin, your heart racing, “there’s a reason for that.”

He tilts his head, eyes searching yours, the worry giving way to curiosity. “Yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, you look up at him, unable to hold back your smile any longer. “Tony… I’m pregnant. Just barely three months.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, the words sinking in as his face shifts from confusion to realization. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. You watch as the full meaning of what you’ve said washes over him, his face breaking into a brilliant smile that lights up his entire expression.

“Wait,” he finally manages, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re… we’re going to have a baby?”

You nod, feeling your own tears well up. “Yes. We’re going to be parents.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight, as if grounding himself in this incredible new reality. You feel his body tremble slightly, his joy spilling over as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, then pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you with pure adoration.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, brushing a tear from your cheek. “This… this is the best surprise of my life.”

He cups your face in his hands, leaning in to press a tender, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulls back, there’s a soft, awed smile playing on his lips. “I thought today couldn’t get any better, but you’ve just made it unforgettable.”

The rest of the evening is filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and shared smiles, the two of you reveling in the quiet, beautiful knowledge that your lives are about to change forever. As you sway together on the dance floor later that night, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, knowing that this is only the beginning of the life you’ve always dreamed of—filled with love, laughter, and a new little heart soon to join your family.

The first few weeks after the wedding bring a unique and gentle kind of excitement as you and Tony settle into the rhythm of married life with a baby on the way. After sharing the news with close friends and family, your days fall into a new pattern—one where work, plans for the future, and a soft undercurrent of anticipation for the baby blend into the everyday. And soon enough, a single priority emerges above all else: the nursery.

Even though you’re still in the early months of your pregnancy, Tony’s enthusiasm is unmatched. He talks about colors, themes, and toys with a boyish excitement, and every spare moment is spent in one design store or another. He’s constantly coming home with inspiration, ideas, and sometimes items he “just couldn’t resist.”

“I found this mobile with little planets and stars,” he says one day, brandishing it with a grin. “Perfect for our little one’s room. Gotta start their science education early, right?”

You can’t help but laugh, heartwarming at the thought of your child growing up surrounded by so much love and wonder. But you’re more practical, balancing Tony’s big ideas with sensible additions—a crib, a changing table, and soft blankets, which you pick out in soothing shades of cream and soft blues, just neutral enough to work for a boy or a girl.

As the weeks pass, the nursery begins to take shape. Tony hangs the planetary mobile over the crib, which you’ve positioned in the middle of the room so it’s the first thing anyone sees. Together, you carefully arrange the toys and a few framed pictures on the walls, both of you quietly envisioning your little one growing up in this cozy, inviting space.

Your belly starts to swell slowly but steadily, each new centimeter adding to the wonder. And Tony is with you every step of the way—holding your hand during doctor’s visits, marveling at every new detail the ultrasound reveals. He’s so deeply invested, always asking questions, always curious, like every new milestone is a gift meant just for him.

One afternoon, as you sit cross-legged on the floor of the nursery, holding up tiny onesies to show Tony, he settles onto the floor beside you, a softness in his gaze as he looks at your growing belly. “You know, this is going to be the coolest room on the block,” he jokes, but his voice is thick with emotion. “Our little one’s going to love it.”

You smile back, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “With a dad like you? They’ll think the whole world is theirs to explore.”

The crib is in place, toys line the shelves, and the walls have been painted in a soft, soothing gray that matches the stardust-themed curtains you picked out together. Everything feels perfect—until a few weeks later when, during a routine checkup, your doctor squints at the ultrasound screen with an unusual expression.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, exchanging a glance with Tony, who’s squeezing your hand a little too tightly.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” she says, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “In fact, I’d say it’s more than fine. You’re expecting twins.”

For a moment, you and Tony are completely silent, processing the news in stunned, joyful disbelief. And then you both burst into laughter, a mix of joy and shock filling the room.

“Twins?” Tony repeats, still sounding amazed. “We’re… we’re going to have two babies?”

“Yes,” the doctor says, grinning at your astonished expressions. “Two baby girls, actually. Congratulations, you two.”

Two baby girls. The words echo in your mind, and you feel your eyes well up as you look at Tony. He’s staring at you, his face lighting up with a combination of surprise, joy, and a hint of panic. But as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, you feel the excitement in his arms, the unspoken promise that he’s ready for this—whatever it brings.

When you get home, the nursery takes on a whole new meaning. Suddenly, the space feels smaller, and your original design plans are tossed out the window as you begin to reimagine the room for two little girls. The next few days become a whirlwind of rearranging, replanning, and revisiting every decision you’d made so far.

“We’ll need two cribs,” Tony says, scratching his head as he stands in the center of the room, staring at the carefully arranged furniture. “And more storage for all their clothes and toys… not to mention double the diapers. Oh, and I’ll have to get another mobile!”

You laugh, watching him slip seamlessly into his role as both planner and dad, and as the weeks pass, the nursery undergoes a complete transformation. The single crib is replaced by two, positioned side by side, each one adorned with matching linens and soft, embroidered blankets. You pick out another mobile with tiny animals to hang over the second crib, so each girl will have her own special piece above her.

Tony throws himself into every decision with all his heart. Together, you select two cozy rocking chairs—one for each side of the room—where you’ll be able to sit and feed them, or rock them to sleep on those long, quiet nights. You add a second changing table and rearrange the closet to fit all the tiny, beautiful outfits you’ve picked out, each one smaller and softer than the last. And you feel a warm, tender satisfaction knowing that everything has been done with love, crafted by your own hands and Tony’s for your daughters.

Your belly grows steadily, more rapidly now with twins on the way, and as your body changes, Tony’s attentiveness only grows. He talks to your belly every night, telling stories, asking the girls to kick for him. Sometimes, when he thinks you’re asleep, you feel his gentle hand on your stomach, his whispering voice, as if he’s having a private conversation with your babies, sharing his dreams and promises for the life they’ll share.

One evening, Tony catches you staring at the nursery with a wistful smile, your hands cradling your growing belly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just thinking about how much our lives are going to change,” you say softly, leaning back against him. “Two little girls… I can’t believe it.”

He chuckles, resting a hand on your belly. “It’s going to be chaos,” he admits, but his tone is warm, filled with love. “But the best kind of chaos.”

The following weeks are a whirlwind of final touches. You and Tony spend countless hours folding tiny clothes, arranging stuffed animals, and adding little decorative touches that make the room feel alive with warmth and anticipation. One wall becomes a gallery of framed prints with soft pastel colors and uplifting quotes, each one a small promise of the happiness that will fill this room.

As your belly grows rounder and the due date draws nearer, Tony becomes even more doting, always ready with snacks, pillows, or gentle foot massages. He attends every doctor’s appointment without fail, his face lighting up at every ultrasound, marveling at the sight of his daughters as they grow. Your heart swells every time you see him so in love with them, even before they’ve taken their first breath.

One evening, as you both lie in bed, Tony turns to you, his face shadowed by a soft, thoughtful look. “What do you think they’ll be like?” he murmurs, brushing a hand tenderly over your belly.

You smile, imagining two tiny faces, two sets of eyes staring up at you. “I think they’ll be perfect. Little pieces of you and me, each with their own personalities.” You feel a slight movement, and Tony’s eyes light up as he feels it too. “They’ll be our little adventure,” you add, feeling your throat tighten with emotion.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he whispers, his voice filled with a quiet awe. “And I can’t wait to see you with them. You’re already the best mom.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you rest your hand over his. “And you’re going to be the best dad, Tony.”

As the weeks pass, you and Tony spend as much time as possible in the nursery, each addition and detail reminding you of the life you’re about to welcome. The two cribs stand proudly side by side, the mobile planets casting soft shadows across the room. Dumpling and Pumpkin occasionally wander in, curling up by the rocking chairs, as if they, too, are awaiting the arrival of their new family members.

One night, just as the final touches are complete, Tony holds your hand, guiding you into the nursery one last time. He flicks on a small, warm lamp, the soft glow illuminating every corner of the room.

“What do you think?” he asks, his gaze moving over the room, his expression one of pride and love.

You look around, feeling your heart swell as you take in the space you’ve created together. It’s everything you’d dreamed of—soft, warm, and filled with love. “It’s perfect,” you whisper, turning to him. “They’re going to love it.”

He smiles, pulling you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Then it’s ready,” he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Just waiting on our girls now.”

The anticipation builds with each day, the love and excitement filling every corner of the nursery.

The birth of your daughters is a moment you and Tony will never forget. After hours of labor, Tony by your side every second, whispering words of encouragement and holding your hand, you finally hear the first cries of your little girls filling the room. The sound is miraculous, small and new, yet somehow commanding all the space in the room. The nurses place each baby in your arms, and the weight of them—tiny, warm, real—washes over you. Tony’s eyes are bright with unshed tears, his face a blend of awe and love as he looks down at his daughters, his whole world in that small, fragile bundle.

Your firstborn, nestled against you with sleepy eyes and the softest patch of dark hair, reaches up with a tiny hand, and you marvel at the delicate beauty of her fingers, so perfectly formed. Tony holds your second daughter, whose bright gaze and peach-fuzz hair make her seem even more precious, a tiny version of you in his arms. You exchange a tearful, joyful glance with him, each of you knowing that no words are necessary.

For names, you’d had many options in mind, but as you gaze down at your daughters, the choice is suddenly clear. Your firstborn, with her delicate, observant eyes, is named Lily—a name that feels soft and sweet, like the petals of a lily blossom. Your second daughter, who seems full of spirit from the moment she’s born, is Rose. Tony chuckles through his tears, noting that their names are like a garden, and you can already picture the flowers they’ll grow into, each one beautiful in her own way.

The first night back at home, you settle in, bracing yourselves for the new reality. The nursery, which had seemed so big and perfect for a family, now feels cozily filled with your two little daughters. The cribs are side by side, and you and Tony can hardly bear to put Lily and Rose down, both of you lingering at their bedside, watching every tiny movement, each sleepy yawn, and every rise and fall of their little chests.

Dumpling and Pumpkin approach with cautious curiosity, sniffing the air and stretching their necks to peer at the new arrivals. Dumpling, the more curious and daring of the two, pads up close to Rose’s crib, giving a soft, inquisitive meow as if to say, And who are these new tiny humans? Rose stirs, her tiny hand jerking in her sleep, and Dumpling looks up at you, blinking slowly in acceptance, as if she already senses her place as the older sibling.

Pumpkin, ever dignified, holds back, sitting primly at the nursery doorway, watching the scene with reserved interest. But as you and Tony return again and again to soothe Lily and Rose during the night, Pumpkin eventually follows, settling herself by the rocking chair in quiet acceptance, her large, round eyes trained on the new family members. Soon, the cats both settle in as quiet sentinels, occasionally creeping closer to observe, then curling up in the corners, as if keeping an eye on their new sisters.

Those first nights are a whirlwind of wonder and exhaustion, filled with soft cries, endless feedings, and groggy exchanges as you and Tony navigate this new world together. You take turns pacing the nursery with Lily and Rose, rocking them gently until they settle into sleep, only to start again a few hours later. It’s tiring, far beyond anything you’d imagined, but every time you look down at their tiny faces, any trace of fatigue fades.

One evening, Tony finds you in the rocking chair, Lily cradled against your chest as you hum softly to her, the glow from the small lamp casting a warm halo around you both. He watches from the doorway for a moment, and when you notice him, he smiles, coming over to brush a gentle hand over Lily’s head.

“They’re perfect,” he whispers, looking down at her with so much love it fills the room.

“They really are,” you whisper back, unable to take your eyes off her. Rose sleeps soundly in her crib, and you can’t help but marvel at how incredible it feels to have them both here, real and whole.

Tony takes over, cradling Lily in his arms and swaying gently, his eyes never leaving her face. You watch him, heart swelling with pride and gratitude, knowing that he’s already the most devoted father. He hums softly to her, a tune you recognize from his late nights tinkering away in the early days of his company, a melody he’d told you once he’d saved for his future children.

Each night becomes a precious ritual of shared wonder and care. You and Tony take turns holding the girls, whispering softly to them, marveling at their tiny fingers and the way they curl their fists while they sleep. And whenever one stirs, the other often follows, as if they already sense their twin bond, their hearts beating together even in sleep.

One evening, as you’re both sitting in the nursery, each holding a baby in your arms, you exchange a tired but joyful smile with Tony.

“Can you believe it?” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Two little girls. Our girls.”

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “It’s everything I ever dreamed of… and more.”

He reaches over, his hand warm as it rests over yours. “Lily and Rose,” he says softly, looking down at them. “Our little flowers.”

In the weeks that follow, you and Tony fall into a rhythm. The days are a blur of feedings, naps, and little moments stolen here and there to catch your breath. Tony dives into his role as a father with everything he has, waking up for midnight feedings, changing diapers with surprising skill, and always finding a way to make you laugh even during the most chaotic moments. On those rare mornings when the girls nap in sync, he’ll bring you coffee, settling beside you on the couch with a look of contentment that makes your heart ache with happiness.

The girls are growing before your eyes, each day bringing a new discovery—a new expression, a tiny sound, a small fist reaching up toward your face. Dumpling and Pumpkin continue their watchful routines, following you to the nursery each time you go in, sometimes even curling up by the cribs as if silently promising to protect their human sisters. Pumpkin occasionally hops up onto the rocking chair, her head cocked to the side as she watches you and Tony with the girls, her silent approval clear in her wise, patient eyes.

One quiet afternoon, as the girls sleep peacefully, Tony pulls you close on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both steal a rare moment of peace. He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your arm.

“We’re pretty lucky, aren’t we?” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I mean… look at them. Look at us.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, watching your little family, feeling a sense of wholeness that’s impossible to put into words. “We really are,” you whisper, the warmth in your chest blooming even more. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He kisses the top of your head, a quiet promise, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, basking in the gentle, perfect chaos of your life together.

The nursery is full now, with soft giggles, sleepy murmurs, and the occasional curious sniff from Dumpling and Pumpkin. Every day with Lily and Rose is a new adventure, a new page in the story you and Tony have been writing together since the day you met. And as you watch him reach over to brush a gentle hand over Rose’s tiny head, his face softened with love, you know that the best parts of your story are only just beginning.

tony as a girl dad lives in my mind rent free, sorry not sorry. if you liked the story don't forget to leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow If you want to read more! <3

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