#YOU PULLED A KNIFE ON YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD

[cimeriansparrow]

Sister's therapist called child protective services on my mother!!

[forzathunder]

"I have many fears, most of them about Lucrezia." — Cesare Borgia (The Borgias, 2011-2013) + hints of insecurity

that she adores someone that much / if she will reject his dark nature and act of love and violence as Ursula did / if he truly is not part of her desires / that she easily forgets him

[pennjammin]

your panties scare me, can i take them off?

pov. you got new halloween panties/pajamas and he’s about to lose his mind.

content: implied smut, breath play (toji), virgin!choso, sexual content (MDI), husband!nanami, breeding kink (nanami), roommate!gojo, afab!reader

incl pairings: choso, nanami, gojo, toji

word count. 2.1k

soundtrack 💿🌧️: sex on sight ft. usher

Choso.

"Mmh..."

You lay on the bed, entangled in burly arms and the scent of aftershave. Your boyfriend is attacking you in sloppy kisses, all down your neck and jaw, as screams beam out of the TV from the horror movie you'd stopped watching about ten minutes ago.

His hand roams dangerously over your side while your nails dig into his back for stability. The two of you have yet to take things as far as penetration, so it’s all you can do to fight back the urge to whip his cock out and plop down on it.

You wonder if tonight things are going to finally change, as you feel your panties grow damper, and Choso's cock digging into your stomach through his sweats.

"Why do we always do this?" Choso breathes. “We start a movie we can't even finish."

You laugh against him before it melts into a moan at the reminder of his wet lips. "Because I don’t like scary movies, Cho. ‘M so afraid.”

Choso grunts against your skin, "Really? How can i make you feel better?”

You huff and roll onto your back. Choso doesn't waste any time climbing over you, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You can start by taking my shorts off,” you instruct, eyes filled with lust as you stare up at your ebony-haired partner.

He pauses his kisses to look down at you in surprise. "Y-You want to...?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip. “Don’t y’wanna comfort me from the scary monsters on the TV?”

Choso nods eagerly, and his big hands come up to your waistband to begin pulling down your shorts. As the material slides over your thighs, he pauses and stares with furrowed brows, right at your underwear.

"Um, baby?" he cocks his head to the side. "Who is... V.S.?"

You let out an exasperated breath before smiling. "That stands for Victoria's Secret, Cho. It's a lingerie brand."

His eyes bulge and he looks back up at you, "Lingerie?"

He continues to slide the shorts all the way off, to reveal your blood red thong with a tiny white ghost on the front. You suspect the ghost is supposed to look like a glob of cum, and you imagine Choso’s in its place.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, "you wore these f'me?"

"Who else, Cho?" you run your hands over your stomach seductively, patting the top of the thong. "You like?”

Choso's eyes flash white, and he hooks his fingers over the skinny string that keeps the thong around your waist.

"Shit, I..." he swallows thickly. "Love them. You have more like this?”

You nod confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see them one at a time.”

You wink and Choso’s nervous hands remain entangled in the strings of your thong. “What if I can’t please you?”

"Not possible," you shake your head, running your hands into his hair, grateful he’d taken it out of its pigtails for his shower. "I nearly cum every time we make out."

His eyes widen. "Oh, so it's not just me," he breathes out in relief.

You giggle and spread your legs a little more, your lips threatening to pop right out of the terribly small pair of panties.

A girl shrieks on the TV and there is the sound of a slashing knife.

You fake a shiver, "Oh, Cho! I'm so afraid. Mmh, hurry and make me feel better.”

Choso smirks and rips down your panties, knowing that the neighbors are going to think someone is really being murdered by the time he’s done with you.

Nanami.

"Excuse me, my love."

You turn in place to see your husband, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom as you brush your teeth.

"Hmph, yes?" you mumble around your toothbrush, your face heating in the same way it always does when you see him, no matter how long you’ve been together.

Nanami stands awkwardly in the doorframe, shifting his weight like a nervous child. He's in his own version of pajamas: a white shirt, plaid pants, and house shoes. His hand raises and he points to your legs.

"When did you acquire those?" he asks delicately, referring to the tiny orange shorts you have on that are patterned in bats.

"The shorts?" you mumble, before removing your toothbrush and spitting out the toothpaste. "Um, I got them yesterday while costume shopping with the kids. Why?"

Nanami laces his fingers together. "I just thought I'd seen all of your clothes, because you always try them on for me. You didn't..." he inhales a ragged breath. "You didn't show me these. Is there a reason?"

You nearly feel your heart shatter through your ribcage. Nanami clearly looks distraught that you failed to give him a fashion show. At the same time, you notice his pajama pants growing a friendly tent in them, and you suspect you know the real reason he is upset.

"I... wanted it to be a surprise, Ken," you say, pat drying your mouth on a washcloth, before walking towards him, all minty and shower fresh.

"A surprise?" Nanami questions, visibly getting tense as you approach.

"Mhmm..." you tiptoe your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. "You like them?"

"That's a very loaded question," Nanami mutters. "I like anything you wear."

"But these seem to be having a different effect on you, honey," you coo, tilting your head to the side, resting your hand on the back of his neck - his sweet spot.

You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "They’re really… small. And we, you know, can’t do things as often anymore with the baby… I just miss you.”

You sigh, relaxing under his touch. “Right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Nanami lets out a feral noise. "No, I’m not. I feel like a horny teenager. Just need you really bad.”

“I haven’t seen you this desperate in a while, honey,” you say, taking a step back, letting your hands fall off of each other. "Go ahead. Take them off.”

Nanami doesn't hesitate. His big hands gently peel down the waistband, and he bites his lip as he examines what’s underneath.

"You're not wearing underwear," he realizes with a breath. “Gonna make me lose myself here, Y/N.”

"Well, I was thinking..." you cock your head to the side. "One more baby wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Nanami's eyes grow a bit larger. “D-don’t say that.”

“Know you’ve been trying so hard not to finish in me,” you coo, “but don’t you miss it?”

“Y/N…” his knuckles go white as he nearly rips the material of your little shorts. “We really shouldn’t.”

"No, but ngh..." you roll your hips under his hands. "Wouldn't it be fun to see how feral we can get?"

"I am already ‘feral’ just looking at these shorts, Y/N." Nanami nearly whines, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, waiting for you to give him the word.

"Really," you whisper on his neck, planting a kiss there soon after. "That was easier than I thought.”

Nanami sighs against you. "Why are you so good at this, hm, little minx?"

You smile against his skin, "Why are my shorts still on, Kento?"

Nanami growls, all guttural and primal instinct, and your back is crashing against the counter in an instant.

You bite your lip, "Eager?” you question.

"You have no idea." He hums as he slides down the orange garment, staring at them. "Did you buy any more?”

"Maybe," you say quietly, blinking as you try to picture what he's going to do to you next.

"Good," he parts your legs and stands between them before using his thick hands to open your mouth and shove the shorts right inside of it. “We’ll need these so we don’t wake the baby.”

Gojo.

"You wanna be me so fucking bad!"

You spin slowly in place, holding a piece of popcorn only halfway to your mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Your eyes land on your roommate's bottoms, a plush pair of Friday-the-13th pajama pants. They are exactly like the boy shorts you’re wearing, the ones that have ridden up and cover basically nothing.

"If you wanted to match, you could've just said that," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms.

You raise your eyebrow, "I’ve had these for a long time. You're the one who wants to be like me."

Gojo scoffs. "Why haven’t I ever seen them, then?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And au contraire, madamoiselle, I want to be in you. Huuuge difference there.”

You cough a bit, choking on nothing, unable to respond.

"Of course, choking on my cock could definitely work too," Gojo mutters, examining his nails. "Maybe teach you a lesson about walking around in just your panties."

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard to deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach just from his words. "Please, like I've never done this before."

"And every time you have, you end up bent over, begging for me to take it easier, don't you?" He cocks his head to the side and lets his eyes slither down your body like a snake of temptation.

You bite your lip. "So it’s my fault that you have no self control?”

Gojo nods his head. "Yes, maybe I just wanted to have a nice, relaxing Halloween game night with you... but now you've got me so worked up."

You tap your chin. "You wanted to spend time with me that doesn't involve sex? Seems a little out of character, don't you think?"

Gojo stalks towards you, long feathery strides until he's towering over your frame, eyes threatening to sear your clothes right off of you.

"Oh, you can't get any denser, can you?" he questions. "This sick little arrangement we have, teasing each other and fucking on every surface in the house isn't what I want." He pauses. "I mean, yes, but it's more than that."

You blink up at him. "What else could you possibly want?"

Gojo sighs, and slowly wraps his arms around you in a cinnamon-scented bear hug. "I want to contact you about your car's extended warranty."

"SATORU!" you screech, hitting him on the chest as he bursts into laughter.

"I'm joking, you know that I can't take shit seriously," he runs his fingers through his hair. “For fuck sake, I want a relationship with you, okay? Do I need to spell it out on the lawn?"

"Yes, actually," you tease, sitting your popcorn bucket down and running your buttery hands over his chest. "You want to be with me?"

"Your pussy's too good to let anyone else have you," he hums, leaning forward and kissing your neck.

"You're so annoying," you grit, but you can't help but melt into his touch and kisses.

He chuckles against you but doesn’t respond.

Gojo pulls his head out of your neck and leans towards you, lips parted in expectancy.

Your eyes flutter closed just as your mouths collide, this kiss feeling different than the hundreds that had come before it. You lean into him and grab the drawstring of his pajamas, while his fingers are also subconsciously twisting into your boy shorts.

"Mmh, can't get enough of you," Gojo mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle. "Good thing I'm yours now. There's plenty of time to reach all of me."

He breaks away from you and stares down in astonishment. "Really?"

You nod, tugging him closer by his pants. "So, about that game night..."

"Eh, it can wait, we have some celebrating to do." He grins, and before you know it you're being lifted swiftly into the air, hauled over his shoulder with your ass next to his face, as he pops a crack on the soft skin there. "And don't you ever wear these without warning me again."

Toji.

“Why are you hovering? I said sit.”

Your boyfriend is obsessed with you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your cunt and juices, this is nothing new. But this time, he wants to try something a bit more deranged.

You’d just been trying to show him your new panties and matching socks, honest. You may have also been wearing one of his shirts, and this was absolutely his weakness, and you absolutely knew that.

“My shirt, baby?” he’d cooed, pulling you into a hug and planting soft kisses on your face. “New panties too? You spoil me.”

It wouldn’t be long before he was lifting you up, effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying down on it. Then, before you had the chance to squirm or run, he was gripping your sides and lifting you over his face, where you caught your weight with your knees.

“Toji, they’re still on,” you mumble, his hands gliding up your sides to hike up his shirt. He stares directly between your legs which causes your clit to twitch.

“So?” he questions from below.

Thick hands mash into the crease of your hips, forcing your weight to fall down on his wide nose and full lips.

Your face turns the color of beets, but you ultimately have no time to be embarrassed as Toji locks his arms around your thighs.

His eyes have fluttered closed, and you can feel his shuddering breath through the cloth as he takes in your scent.

Your hands are on the headboard for stability, looking down at him, feeling your panties grow damper as he wiggles his face around, nose brushing your clit.

“Toji approved,” he says suddenly, before you feel his fat, warm tongue slide along the material of the panties, and your body lurches.

“Wh-What…?”

“I can still eat you through your panties,” he huffs, eyes popping open and catching you staring down at him. “This was the plan all along, puss.”

Your thighs shudder on either side of his head. “You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack, baby,” he mumbles, before flicking his tongue over the cloth again, nose massaging your clit, hands burying deeper into your skin. It’s all so much, you moan and rotate your hips over him.

“Wh-what made you want to try this?” you ask, biting your lip as he tugs on the material with his teeth, taking in another animalistic sniff.

“You looked so proud to show them off,” Toji grunts. “It’s a shame that they were only going to end up on the floor, huh?”

You have to agree. You’d stopped buying lingerie long ago because it would never last more than a few seconds around Toji, but you figured a new pair of panties couldn’t hurt. You just hadn’t expected this reaction out of him.

Besides, you can’t deny how good it feels to dry hump his face, there only being a thin barrier between your folds and his wet tongue, making it all the more a tease.

From then on, it became a regular tradition for Toji to “approve” your new holiday panties - but of course, the halloween ones remained his favorite.

A/N:

im sorry for pumping out these shitty short ones but im just trying to keep yall fed while we wait for the long ones ^.^

~pennjammin

[moonlightrafe]

My Sister’s Keeper

summary: Aemond intends to send you away to protect you after he starts the war, but Aegon isn't ready to let you go.

pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, mention of death, incest, threesome, p in v sex, oral (m&f receiving), voyeurism, male masturbation, infidelity (reader is married to Aemond), lactation kink, choking, cum play/eating, spit, Aegond kiss!! (oop) 18+ MDNI

note: Uhhhh. I'm sorry??? I feel like I just breezed through this, idk I was horny lol. Feedback is appreciated!

You’ll never forget the look on Aemond’s face when he first arrived back to the Red Keep from his journey to Storm’s End. Your family was desperate in the inevitable, upcoming war against Rhaenyra so Aemond had been sent to help strike up a proposal between one of Lord Borros’ daughters and the youngest son of the late king Viserys, Daeron Targaryen.

Sitting in the large bed of your shared chamber, you had been anxiously awaiting his arrival, chewing your fingernails down to bloody nubs.

“Aemond!” you practically leapt into his arms when he appeared sopping wet in the doorway. Overjoyed to see he’d returned in one piece, but something was off, something was wrong. He was vacant, like he had seen a ghost.

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

With that simple sentence you knew your lives would be changed forever.

“You cannot just make me disappear,” you said to your husband through gritted teeth, as your voice trembled, lump in your throat forming as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“If we are not here they will just go looking for us.”

“Anywhere is safer than here, my love.” Aemond answered coolly.

“If you think this decision was not difficult to make, you are wrong. It is simply what's best for the both of you. You and the babe will be staying in Dorne until I know for certain that it is safe for you here.”

“But –”

“But nothing! This is not up for debate,” he growled at you, “the decision has been made and it is final!” His words cut through you like a knife.

“You cannot make a decision like this. You are not the king.”

“No “ he retorted, “but I am your husband, therefore, when it comes to you and my child, what I say goes!”

You got up and exited your shared chambers with haste, not wanting Aemond to see you cry.

Your bare feet padded against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep, the walls echoed and groaned as you made your way to your eldest brother’s chambers.

Aegon’s head perked up when he heard you come in. He stared at you sheepishly from behind his goblet of wine.

“Has he told you?”

Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”

“I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Aegon.”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting the spot next to him, motioning for you to come and sit.

“Our half-sister is unpredictable,” he replied calmly, “there’s no telling what she might do… not to mention, Daemon.”

As much as you did not want to admit it, both of your brothers were right. Accident or not, Rhaneyra’s son was dead. You would be a fool to believe she wouldn’t be out for blood.

Aegon pulled you into his lap, his cock already half hard. You kissed him deeply as he grinded his hips up into yours. You ran your fingers through his unruly silver hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you. Completely lost in the moment, you hadn’t heard Aemond enter the room.

He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

“Aemond!”

Your brother-husband stalked into the room, his violet eye scanning over you with amusement.

“Oh please, do continue.”

Your chest rose and fell as you struggled to find the right words to say.

“Did you not hear me? I said continue,” Aemond repeated, as he approached you and Aegon.

“Aemond, this is not what it looks like —“

His brow furrowed at you as he gripped your chin forcing you to look him directly in the eye.

“Do you mistake me for a fool? You believed me to be unaware of your little arrangement?”

Still at a loss for words, you and Aegon just stared at your brother nervously. Aemond moved away a few inches and started to remove his tunic and his trousers. His cock strained hard against his small clothes, which he removed not long after. You gawked at him as he pumped his cock in his left hand, making his way back to you.

Aegon’s violet eyes beamed with excitement at this, pupils blown with lust. He took no time to nip at your neck, your earlobes, grinding against your core once again.

“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.

“What’s inappropriate is you sneaking away from your husband to come fuck this wastrel,” Aemond began, his words thick with venom.

“Clearly, you want the both of us. So have us… while you still can.”

A slight moan left your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing Aegon easier access to your throat, your gaze never leaving Aemond’s, his expression unreadable as he nodded his head at you.

Aemond had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the tip bright red, lushed and angry, his arousal already dripping from the tip.

Aegon leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, and began to suck harshly. Being that your babe was only two months old, you were lactating. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt the milk begin to flow.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, “just like that. You’re doing so good.”

You could feel his cock twitching against your leg at your praise as he continued to ravenously lap at your breast.

As he switched to your other breast he sucked harder at your stiffened peak, the milk coming almost instantly. He palmed your abandoned breast with his large hand, squeezing gently. Shivers ran down your spine as the sweet feeling of relief washed over you once again.

A growl erupted from Aemond’s throat and he unexpectedly pulled Aegon away from your chest. To your utter surprise, he crashed his lips against Aegon’s, tasting your milk on his tongue. You watched with bewilderment as your husband passionately kissed your brother, tugging at his unruly hair, moaning into his mouth. Arousal seeped from your core and onto Aegon’s thighs. Aemond broke the kiss abruptly and stared at you.

Aegon’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you around so you were underneath him. Your eldest brother positioned you so you were laying on your back comfortably against the pillows. He nestled himself between your thighs and hastily hiked your nightgown up over your waist. You shivered as his warm breath fanned over your folds. Before you could blink his tongue was prodding at your entrance. Your hands flew to the back of his head on instinct, pulling him closer into your center.

Aemond approached you carefully. He tapped his cock against your lower lip a few times, a signal for you to open your mouth. Just as he did so, Aegon’s tongue had reached the right spot, causing your mouth to gape open as a loud moan escaped your lips. Aemond took this as an opportunity to forcefully shove his cock into your mouth. You felt a rush of pleasure as Aemond's cock filled your mouth. You began to suck and lick it, eager to make him moan even louder. Aegon's tongue continued to explore you as you pleasured Aemond, and you felt your body quiver with pleasure.

If you knew being with another man in his presence would have this effect on him, you would have brought your affair to light long ago.

With a low groan of your name he pumped in and out of your mouth mercilessly, the salty taste of his precum evading your tastebuds. The air left your lungs as you gagged around him. You could feel the pent up anger Aemond held for the entirety of the situation with each brutal buck of his hips. Ever so slowly he pulled back, giving the you the illusion he was going to give you a break. But before you were able to catch your breath, his cock found his way to the back of your throat again. The faster he went, tears began to stream down your face.

As bubbles of spit began to form around the corners of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to the best of your ability. With Aegon now three fingers knuckle deep in your cunt it was almost impossible for you to focus on Aemond; but as the pace of his thrusts quickened you knew he was going to cum soon. You moaned around his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch, you could feel every throb of the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock.

“No,” Aemond growled as he pulled himself from your throat, “I need to feel your cunt around me.”

Aemond all but shoved Aegon away from you, almost knocking him off the large bed. Aemond lined his cock up with your center and sheathed himself inside of you with quickness.

As Aegon now sat on the upper left corner of the bed, he watched intently as Aemond’s cock disappeared into you repeatedly. One hand tugged at his painfully hard cock and the other wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, “look at how you take him so well,” he praised.

You nodded your head at him enthusiastically, pleasure overwhelming you. Aegon hooked his thumb into your mouth and you sucked and nipped at it intently.

There was no doubt that Aemond enjoyed the praise as well, snapping his hips even harder into your own. His cock bullied your sweet spot mercilessly. Your body tingled with a mix of pleasure and pain as Aemond's thrusts intensified; pressing hard against your cervix. His large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the raw desire consuming your every thought.

“Fuck, Aemond, I’m going to cum!” you screamed as your hot waves of pleasure coursed through you.

Aegon watched intently as your orgasm wracked your entire frame, his own following not long after. He let out a loud groan as he came into his hand. He flashed an evil grin at Aemond as he brought his fingers to Aemond's mouth, shoving them down his throat.

Your husband gagged around his digits, sucking Aegon's release from them.

As the aftershock of your orgasm continued to pump though you, your cunt squeezed around Aemond’s cock. The depravity of it all overwhelmed him and Aemond cum with a shudder. With one final thrust and a loud grunt, he was spilling himself inside of you.

As Aegon removed his fingers from your husband's throat, Aemond leaned over you, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Open up, baby," he said before spitting directly into your mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Aegon's cum evident on your tongue. You swallowed with a contented hum.

Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.

You curled up in the bed next to Aegon, Aemond’s seed seeping out of you onto the sheets, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“She can stay here for the night,” Aemond said as he leaned down to kiss your sweat-drenched forehead.

Aegon frowned at his brother.

“Aemond, we cannot make her leave,” he rasped, desperation clear in his voice.

“I think she needs to leave now more than ever, brother. To ensure nothing like this ever happens again.”

A loud sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he diverted his gaze from Aemond to you, pushing your hair out of your face, admiring your beauty.

“Enjoy your time with her tonight. She will be on her way to Dorne by morning.”

[midnightcrw]

I almost lost you

Pairing: Cregan Stark x fem!reader

Summary: You never thought you could be as sad as you are now.

Warnings: mention of losing your child, being stabbed (tell me if there should be more triggering things in this one-shot)

a/n: Even though I have never watched hotd before and only heard what happens in the show, I fell in love with Cregan Stark even though he was there for a few minutes. Also note that I'm not the best at writing, especially when it comes to hotd.

You thought you knew what sadness was when you couldn't get pregnant even after being married to Cregan for over a year, but this feeling was far worse.

You had finally fallen pregnant a few weeks ago, and that was probably one of the happiest times for you, as you had not told your husband and were waiting for the perfect moment, but things changed drastically when someone broke into your bedchambers while you were alone. You didn't even have time to react when a man wearing a cloak stabbed you and left you bleeding on the floor.

Painful wasn't even enough to describe it. It was agonizing the way your body froze in shock and you only registered the way the knife was pulled out of your stomach. You couldn't even remember the last four days because you were only lying in bed, not a single word leaving your lips as you had to process what had happened.

Cregan had not been here since that night. He was looking for the man who did it and he was furious, at least that's what the maid had said.

Slowly sitting up, your back now resting on the pillows as you traced the area of your injury, covered by a bandage and your nightgown over it.

"Lady Stark!" A woman's loud voice made you flinch as your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. Your eyes, now wide open, looked at the woman as you realized it was one of the handmaids.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but you didn't respond," the young woman said apologetically, looking down in shame. "Don't worry, it was my fault for letting my mind wander. Why did you come here?" Your voice sounded scratchy as you spoke for the first time in days.

"Lord Cregan Stark has arrived and wanted to know if you would like him to come in," at the mention of his name you got nervous, not knowing what was going to happen, but you nodded and motioned for her to let him in.

Only her footsteps could be heard as you began to fiddle with your fingers. You wanted to see him, but at the same time you didn't, too afraid of disappointing him.

The movement of your fingers stopped abruptly as you felt the bed sink down and your name was called softly in a whisper.

You were both in love with each other even before you got married, and you were perfectly content to call each other by name rather than by some title. It made you both more comfortable and felt better than calling him 'Lord' or you 'Lady'.

But in that moment, you wished he wouldn't. You wished that he would treat you as heartlessly as you deserved.

"Please look at me," his gruff voice was the only thing you could hear besides the wind from outside and you hadn't dared to look up, it felt like someone was starting to strangle you until you couldn't breathe anymore.

Your eyes were still looking down and you could see his hand hesitating to touch you as he pleaded with you again and this time you listened.

Slowly, you looked at him, your eyes almost lifeless as Cregan's were filled with concern.

When your husband opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him by whispering, "I was with child.

And that's when Cregan's expression turned to confusion. No one had told him since you had wanted to be the one to break the news, but unfortunately not in the way you had wished for.

"What?" It was the first time you had ever heard his voice so strained. He started to shake his head in shock as his eyes moved rapidly to find even a hint of a lie on your face and when he didn't find it, the silence grew.

You hated it, you hated the way he looked at you in sadness and you hated it even more that he wasn't angry with you.

"I couldn't even give you an heir," your voice finally broke as a tear ran down your face, your lip trembling as you bit down on it to keep yourself from bursting, but the moment Cregan's arms engulfed your frame, you began to sob your heart out as your body shook while your husband tightened his hold on you.

Even though you couldn't see Cregan's face as it was buried in the crook of your neck, you knew he was letting his tears fall as you felt them on your skin, and it wasn't because of the child, it was because he was terrified of losing you.

Every day he had made it clear that the only thing he ever wanted was for you to be alive, happy and healthy. Not once had he complained about the lack of a child in your life, because he was content to have you around.

"That's the least of an issue, yeah?" He said as he kissed your cheek, still holding you in his arms. "We can always try again whenever you want, alright? The only thing that's important is that you let your body heal first," he said as his lips kissed your tear-stained face several times while reassuring you.

"But you need an heir," you sobbed softly as he let go of your body to hold the sides of your face in his hands. The look on his face suddenly became stern as he maintained eye contact, "An heir can wait." He said as he slowly touched his forehead to yours, "I almost lost you," he fretted as his eyes became glassy like you'd never seen them before.

His beautiful eyes that you could never look away from and now all you wanted to do was look away, not to see the fear in them.

"But you didn't," you replied, "Yes, I didn't, and I've never been more grateful for anything in my life," the moment he finished his sentence, your lips met his with an urgency that was almost primal.

The kiss was raw and filled with emotions that neither of you could put into words. It was desperate, a clash of needs that both you and Cregan could feel as your hearts pounded against your chests.

Your hands tightly curled the fabric of his top as one hand cupped your face while the other tangled in your hair. The two of you were almost breathless as he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours for a second before giving your now swollen lips a feather light peck and pulling away completely.

Your eyes traveled the contours of his face as he began to speak breathlessly, "We should sleep, it is late," you merely nodded as he stood to undress.

And not once did you look away as he undressed, the scars around his skin always drawing your attention. Some of them were already so pale that you couldn't see them unless you got close, while the rest were in shades of red.

Catching yourself staring, you quickly shook your head and moved down to rest your head on the pillow, and a moment later, your husband was lying next to you, his chest unclothed.

"Your wound hasn't caused any problems, has it?" He asked as he turned to the side to get a better look at you.

Your hand made its way to touch the spot where your wound was, "It's healing well, from what I've been told."

"Can I see it?" Cregan seemed hesitant as he spoke, but you only nodded, slowly pulling up your nightgown as you lay on your side for him to see.

The moment your wound was visible, Cregan gently touched your skin. "It's already scarred," he murmured as his eyes inspected the red scar on your stomach.

"It looks ugly," you said as you slowly pulled the material down until your husband stopped you, "You never told me that mine looked ugly."

Without hiding the truth, you muttered, "Because yours are beautiful.

Cregan shook his head at your answer, his eyes softening a fraction as he looked at you, "That's not true. Both of our scars look the same, but you can't see beauty in yours just because it's marring your skin and not mine"

Without letting you respond, he continued, "You are beautiful, inside and out. There's no need to call any part of you ugly because you're insulting my wife, the love of my life, and the lady of Winterfell."

Not saying anything, you buried your face in his chest and that was enough for him, to feel your heart beating against his as you held on to him.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Loves

Dad!Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mom!Atreides!reader

Summary in bullet points:

Your and Feyd’s four-year-old son is sweet like you but has a little love for violence like his father

Feyd gives your son his first blade

Feyd is soft for his family (I just think being in love and having a family would alter this psycho man’s brain chemistry a bit)

Notes: same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. 

Warnings: a half-psycho half-sweet little boy, mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

Your son contains a sweetness. ‘Caladan Sweetness’ you call it, because your home planet was where your sweetness was born into you. Your father, the beauty of your home, the oceans and the fields bloomed you into the soft, sweet thing that your husband loves. And though your son has never seen the world you come from, that sweetness runs through his veins. His smile, his laugh, his power to draw those around him out of their Harkonnen-built shells—that all comes from you. 

But at the same time, he is no less like his father. He adapts rather quickly to his surroundings. He has a natural curiosity for weaponry and blood and how one brings about the other. He does not hate the feel of a heart beating its final beat in his little hand—a feeling his father expressed would be better experienced young, and was done so after the slaughtering of a prisoner in front of the boy's eyes. Feyd had cracked open the prisoner's chest, taken his son by the hand, and guided his fingers into the open wound with the instruction to keep them wrapped around the organ until it no longer moved. You remember his eyes that day—round as saucers and sprinkled with excitement as he looked up at his father who ruffled his hair with a grin on his face. 

He truly is a combination of you both; such beautiful balance has already taken shape in a tiny body. He will be a warrior built and molded by his desire to understand everything his father has to teach him. And yet, he will be gentle where necessary; you hope, one day, with a wife and children of his own. But it’ll be long before that day comes. 

Then again, in some ways, he is growing so fast. For you, it could have been yesterday that you were pushing him out of your womb as your husband held your hand and kissed your forehead. At four years old, you still see him as your baby, but you acknowledge that Harkonnen blood ripens faster than the average child, and he has already begun to show signs of the man your brother prophesized him to be: one of the strongest alive; stronger even than his father. 

That is why you’ve allowed Feyd to pace your son’s training—it’s his area of expertise. It is their bond, and you don’t interfere in those moments, opting to stay just out of sight. 

“You're old enough now to have your own blade,” you hear your husband tell your son from your hidden spot around the corner. 

You can’t hold back your smile at your son's uncontained curiosity as Feyd pulls the knife out from behind his back and presents it to the boy. It balances perfectly on Feyd’s palm as tiny hands reach up. Your son pauses, but when Feyd gives an encouraging nod, he plucks it from his father’s hand. 

It couldn’t be a better fit. Not too long or heavy for his hand, but not too short or light. It’s a good starting blade to prepare him for the weapons that will grow in size as he does. 

“You will be training with me every day from now on,” Feyd tells him.

The boy looks up from the knife to meet his father’s eyes. “So I can get strong like you, Daddy?”

“Stronger than me.”

Your son giggles, a wide grin breaking open his face. “No one's stronger than you!”

Feyd's features soften as he pats his boy's cheek. “You will be.”

“Will I be strong enough to kill Uncle Paul for stealing me and Mommy from you?”

You almost snort as you roll your eyes. Of course, Feyd told him the story. It was only a matter of time before he sat him down and explained the tale of your half-brother killing—or almost killing—Feyd in front of you, then holding you hostage upon finding out Feyd was still alive and demanding you be returned to him. In exchange for you and the baby he discovered you were pregnant with, Feyd swore loyalty to your brother. But your husband will not allow his bloodline to continue for generations under the thumb of Paul Atreides. And that starts with your son. 

Feyd chuckles. “You will be strong enough to destroy your uncle and everything he loves.”

Finally making your presence known, you edge around the corner and lean against the wall. When Feyd sees you, so too does your son, and knowing the boy’s next move, Feyd takes the small blade from the even smaller hand.

“Mommy, I'm going to kill Uncle Paul!” he says joyfully as he rushes over and slams into your legs. “And everything he loves!”

“I heard!” you reply, grinning as you crouch down to his level and take hold of his hands. “But you know what? Little na-Barons who wish to take revenge on their uncles must first get a good night's sleep.”  

“Ok!”

“I'll come check on you in a minute,” you promise him before kissing his cheek and sending him on his way. Your eyes follow him running down the hall until he’s safely behind the door of his bedroom. 

Turning back to your husband and walking to his side, you say, “You told him.”

The tip of the blade pushes into his pointer finger as he lazily twirls the small weapon. “At his age, he should know who his enemies are.”

You slip between his muscled body and the table in the center of the common room where he sets down your son’s knife. With a closed-mouth smile, you hum. “And how did you start that conversation? ‘Uncle Paul made Mommy sad and Daddy mad’?”

“Something like that,” he confirms, leaning into you. His hands brace on the table, one arm at either side of your hips as he seals his lips to yours. 

Feyd’s mouth moves at a slow, hypnotic rhythm but with an intense pressure that’s glazed in possessiveness. You can taste it. That ownership. That authority. He may not always fuck you like you belong to him—sometimes it’s your turn to remind him that he’s yours—but his kisses have never been anything short of claiming. Gentle or rough, slow or frenzied, short or long enough to make you forget what world you’re in, a kiss from your husband ends with the reassurance that he wants you, he loves you, and he won’t ever let you go. 

His hands move to your neck, thumbs pressing into the curve of your jaw to hold your head still and you moan from his cool fingers soothing flushed skin. Your lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. It plays with yours and then retreats. Teeth sink into your bottom lip, lightly tugging before he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours. 

“How's our other one?” he asks as a knuckle draws a line from your jaw to your neck to your cleavage. His eyes follow as it continues past the neckline of your dress and down your sternum, stopping at your stomach where his fingers splay wide. His eyes flick up to yours.

“Strong…like you,” you say, placing your hand over his. “...and like him.”

Your husband nods, exhaling a light sigh of relief. “Did they tell you?”

You smile. “They think it's a girl,” you answer. 

A few thumps of your heart pass as you await his reaction, but then Feyd smiles with you.

---

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t @midnight-serendipity @minedofmoria @aoi-targaryen

[diejager]

God! I love dark price, please write a part of dark price and reader with his son (I want a mini price 😔) I think it would be a boy 😅 but I'll leave it up to you <3 have a good day, best writer on Tumblr <3

Cage Cw: forced pregnancy, forced relationship, MENTION OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.

“Mama! Mama!” Two, childlike voices called out to you, their tones light and jovial with a child’s innocence, untainted by the horrors of the world.

Rapid pads followed after their screams, running steps heading your way as you turned to look at the source, putting down the knife you used to cut the ripe and fresh carrot for supper. Two pairs of hands grabbed at your pants, wide, blue eyes staring up at you with joy and wonder in their pretty eyes, they begged for attention.

You loved them. You truly did. From the lingering fat on their three-year old cheeks, their round, doe eyes in a stormy, blue shade, their chubby limbs and fingers holding onto you to the soft locks in the shade of your hair. From the adorable behaviour, pliant and obedient, always eager to listen to you if it meant receiving praises and kisses from you, to the innocence in their being, untouched by the cruelty you’ve seen when you were still working. But everything about them reminded you of him, of their father, of your husband. Your boy and daughter were spitting images of their father, only with your shade of hair.

“What wrong?” You crouched to their height, thumb rubbing the blue ink off the fat of your daughter’s cheek with your clean hand, you’d left the both of them in the living room with a box of coloured pens and paper to draw with.

“Hungry, Mama,” Olivia moaned, clutching her shirt with an adorable pout, reaching for her brother for help to convey her hunger.

You cooed at her, picking the both of them up, bobbing them until they sat comfortably on each side of you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as they cried and moaned about being hungry, about their tumtums making sound. You put them on separate chairs, handing them a small cracker to eat while your finished making your soup. Olivia and Arthur - you precious twins - liked the bland crackers, wanting something to bite into while their teeth grew, to stop the itch and discomfort of growing teeth.

“Mama’s almost finished, it’ll be done once Dada’s home, okay?” Your kids were smart, they understood words that most wouldn’t at this age. You chalked it up to them having your husband’s genes, his smart and quick decisions made it nearly impossible to beat him in a battle of wits, you learned that the hard way.

As if summoned by your voice, you heard the lock click, announcing your husband’s return from work. Hearing their father open the door, Arthur and Olivia jumped off their seats and rushed to the door, smiling and giggling, overjoyed to see their father home after leaving early in the morning. He bent down to kiss them, bringing them into his chest and blowing kisses, a few dozen on their forehead, another dozen on each cheek and a few on their pink nose, small and adorable.

“Go on, give Ma and Pa a moment, yeah?” He smiled softly, petting them on the head before coaxing them away, wanting a moment to hold you on his own.

He pulled you towards him, hands grasping onto your hips, strong and unyielding in his hold. He pressed his lips to your cheek, slowly trailing down to your lips with a searing and possessive kiss, demanding your attention and whole being. He nipped at your lip, teeth biting on your lower lip until you let out a small whimper, audible to him and you alone, protecting your children from Price’s darker side.

“John,” you mumbled, panting when he pulled away, your lips swollen from his rough kiss.

When you tried to move back, you were stopped by his grip on your nap, unaware that his hand snaked up to hold you still, keeping your face near his. His stormy eyes brewed with a cyclone, a violent and powerful torrent of emotions that had you shudder in fear and apprehension. He was strung high, pulled tight on the edges, his nerves burned to its core without any relief for him to come back down. You knew you would have to help him relax, to surrender your body to his whims.

“Let’s… let’s just eat dinner and get the kids to bed first, all right?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

[bellesdreamyprofile]

a baby miracle: part 1

You’ve always wanted to be a mother - the thought of having a little child running around and their giggles filling the house, brought you joy and satisfaction. Whenever you went shopping with Benny (which was quite rare, since he hated shopping), you always found your way in the baby section, looking at itty bitty clothes. It was like a calling - you were sure because of your nurturing nature you were meant to be a mother.

Today’s doctor appointment confirmed what your hopes had been for the entirety of your adult years - you were pregnant. You smiled at the sweet woman and thanked her as a picture of your little baby was printed out. Endless scenarios played in your head at the idea of your happy little baby dressed in frilly little clothes. A mini version of you and Benny.

Benny.

You shakily slid the envelope with your results in your bag. Realization hit you - there had to be a bump on the road — ironically. You never discussed having children with Benny, mostly because of his lifestyle, but also because it was a topic that simply never came up.

The bag kept sliding down your shoulder as you made your way home. A glance at your watch made you realize that Benny wasn’t home yet, giving you some time to think about the way you were going to break down the situation to him.

You made his favorite steak and potatoes with a side salad and set the table. Once satisfied with the results, you looked down at your outfit and scoffed at the stain on your favorite sweater. So you made your way upstairs and took it off, though as you moved towards your wardrobe, you caught your own reflection in the adjacent mirror.

Your gaze moved on your bare stomach - you were absolutely aware that there was nothing yet, but your hand still found its way there. You gently rubbed it and closed your eyes at the feeling of burning tears building up. Prayers invaded your head, prayers of hope that Benny was going to be happy at the news - like every husband would be. 

That was when you idealized again - trying to shape Benny into the man he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair to him since he never tried to change you or your habits for his own.

The door opened, making your eyes snap open at the noise. You breathed out and hastily grabbed the first sweater you found and put it on, trotting downstairs.

His blue eyes looked up and a smile made its way on his face. “Hey baby.”, as soon as you reached him, he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss to your temples. That was a sign that he had had a rough day at the club.

“Hey honey.”, you murmured against his chest. “Rough day?”, Benny hummed in response and you found yourself sighing, forcing your eyes shut.

“I made your favorite.”, you said and put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. He lazily smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“The steak, potatoes and the vegetables you force me to eat?”, you nodded as a small laugh escaped your lips.

“It’s a small salad that won’t kill you, honey. As your wife it’s my job to make sure that you get your daily veggies in.”, you teased, but he simply shook his head with a small smile on his lips.

“Okay.”, he shrugged. “You know what’s best anyways.”, Benny led you to the table and sat down on the seat across from yours. He wasn’t very talkative during meals, but he always had the most interesting stories before bed. Head on his chest, fingers twirling your hair and his pretty eyes fixated on the ceiling. It was now a routine.

His knife cut through the steak and his fork brought it to his lips, eyes fighting the urge to close at the taste. “Now that’s a steak.”, he complimented, glancing your way.

You gave him a small smile and sighed, questioning your ability to keep such a secret to yourself. During dinner at least.

“I don’t even mind the salad, baby—“

“I’m pregnant.”

You cut him off, your tone higher than usual. So much for holding back until after dinner. Benny’s movements stopped, his eyes set on the centre of the table, unable to meet yours.

You were already crying, salty tears rolling down your cheeks as your little secret was finally out in the world. You expected relief — anything. There was absolutely nothing worse than Benny’s silence. Even on regular days you had a hard time figuring out if he was happy, sad or disappointed.

You brushed a tear away and almost burned his skin with the way you were staring at him. “Please say something, Benny. Anything.”

His eyes snapped your way, the redness taking you by surprise. “What do you want me to say?”, he said lowly and set his knife and fork aside.

And then he said the worst thing he possibly could’ve.

“I have to go.”

At the sight of him standing up, you panicked, feeling your heart drop to the floor and shatter in millions of pieces. “N-No, Benny, please.”

Benny was quick to grab his denim jacket and put it on without giving you a second glance. Your footsteps were quicker as you grabbed his bicep.

“Please look at me, honey. Please.”, your words of plea didn’t make him budge. Your finger gently curled under his chin, turning it your way. His jaw clenched at the sight of your endless tears. Oh, but how your heart broke at the sight of his blue eyes. His nose scrunched, moving away from you again.

“I have to go.”, he said firmly, but you wouldn’t — couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t be alone in a moment like this. You had no idea on how you’d react the moment your husband stepped foot outside your home.

“No, you don’t.”, your voice was a mere whisper. “I can’t leave this situation either, Benny.”, you sniffled and brought one of your hands to wipe away some tears. “You told me. We’re a team. One doesn’t leave the other.”

At the way his own words were used on him, Benny’s blue eyes slowly met yours. A mix of red, blue and salty tears stood in front of you. Your hand slowly lifted up, caressing his cheek gently.

“I’m scared.”, the little break in his voice made you cradle his face as he leaned into your touch. “I-I won’t be a good father—“

You shook your head and pecked his lips repeatedly. A sigh fell from your lips as you leaned your forehead on his. “You’ll be perfect—“

Benny sniffled, shaking his head. “I-I won’t. I’ll fuck up and the kid’s gonna resent me for the rest of their life.”, you moved back, gazing into the eyes that always held confidence and love. Now stood a broken man in front of you.

You cleared your throat and, with a gush of courage, took one of his hands in yours. You brought it your abdomen and pressed it with both of yours. His eyes met yours again and the tears he desperately tried to keep at bay, started falling down.

“This baby—“, you sniffled. “This baby will love you no matter what. And I know that because— because I love you no matter what, Benny.”, he kept shaking his head a little as his eyes threw glances at your joined hands. “We love you because you’re you. We don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

His eyes closed as small whimpers left his lips. Heartbreak couldn’t compare to whatever you were feeling in the moment. You brought his head to your shoulder as you caressed his hair in comfort. His arms circled your body, fingertips pressed to your skin to feel your warmth — clinging to you like a baby to his mother.

As much as you convinced yourself that Benny was going to stay with you, your heart broke at his state. He never revealed too much of his past, always telling you you’re my present and future so that ain’t relevant, but it was clear that fatherhood was a touchy subject.

One step at a time, you reminded yourself. 

One step at a time.

A/N: this healed me and broke me in twenty different ways

MASTERLIST PART 2

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

[carnationworld-writings]

The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife. 

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

[editorandchief]

Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen

Request: Yes

Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.

Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault

Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist

You couldn't believe it.

He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 

This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 

He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  

Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.

This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.

No.

"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 

"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 

Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 

His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 

She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 

"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."

"I know this must be upsetti-."

"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 

"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.

"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 

"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 

"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.

"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 

"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 

Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 

"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 

"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."

another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.

"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 

 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 

***

It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 

Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 

"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 

"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."

"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.

"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."

"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 

"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."

"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."

Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 

"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.

"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 

Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 

"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  

Part Two

[rory-cakes]

A Buck and A Canary

What was she doing here?

Why was she smiling at him like nothing happened?

He left their child alone!

He let her die!

He lied to her!

It has been one week since the battle at the Habin Hotel. They were starting to finish the reconstruction of the hotel when something strange happened. An angel appeared. 

“Hello! My name is Y/n Altruist, and the higher-ups of heaven have sent me to oversee the progress of the hotel!” 

“THEY CHANGED THEIR MINDS!?” Charlie was practically vibrating with joy. 

“Why?” Vaggie asked skeptically. 

“Well, unlike before, we have proof that your hotel works! A certain serpent has shown up in heaven!”

“Sir Penitouse is alive!” everyone was filled with overwhelming joy. 

“Also”

Y/n bowed in respect. 

“I deeply apologize for the exterminations. They were never supposed to happen. Sera and Adam were working alone in that sense.” 

Charlie grabbed her hand and helped her back up. 

“So really, no one knew? How is that possible?”

“The seven virtues are the only defense against evil on Earth so they have their hands full with that, I’m afraid. I was at the meeting and I brought up the issue as soon as I could!”

“Why do you care so much about what happens to us? No offense, we’re really grateful you did what you did! But why?”

“Well, I'm afraid my answer is a little selfish. My husband is down here. He wasn’t a good man but he was a good husband and he would have been a good father hadn’t he died.”

How did an angel like her end up with someone down here?

Wait-

An angel like her?

“Im sorry, but what is your husband’s na-”

“Birdy?”

“Alastor?”

Alastor sat uncomfortably on the plush couch in his room. Y/n sat equally as uncomfortable in a chair of a similar design. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. 

Alastor avoided making eye contact with his wife. I mean she had to know who he truly was at this point. How could she not?

“Alastor.”

She breaks the silence. 

“I’ve missed you dearly, my darling.”

Why was she smiling?

“I know what you did, and while I can’t say I’m pleased, that doesn’t change the fact that you are my husband.”

What?

“You cherished and loved me for so many years. You took care of me and Eudora. You loved me with everything you had.”

This isn’t right.

“So, if you haven’t stopped loving me in the time we’ve been apart,”

No

“I’d like to be your wife still.”

Alastor finally looked at his ethereal wife. She was so good. She shouldn’t be corrupted by his darkness. 

“I left her alone.”

“So did I.”

Y/n smiled at the man in front of her. This was her Alastor. This was the man she fell in love with. Sure, there were blazing red flags and she should probably be running for the hills. However, she can’t deny the urge to be with him. 

“I’ve been watching over her.”

“You have? How is she?”

“She’s lived a long life. She’s been married to her wife for about 40 years now. She adopted three kids and has a bunch of grandkids. She had her own radio show, Al!”

“She did?”

“She did.”

Y/n moves to sit beside him and grabs his hand with both of hers. Alastor finally pulls her closer,

“You deserve so much more than I am. I cursed you in life I can’t let you get hurt again.”

“You are all that I want, and if I get cursed because of it, that will have been my decision.”

She places her hand on his face, and he leans into it. 

“My darling Alastor, there is nothing you can do for me to stop loving you.”

“Alright, Birdy, I’ll have you for as long as you wish to stay.”

And so the Buck was reunited with his Canary.  

A/N: Hi! I hope you liked the last part of Alastor's Birdy! If you have scenarios you would like me to write with this au, just send me an ask and ill get to it as soon as I can!

Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro @isa-dragon

[sketchguk]

part time lover; jjk (teaser)

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 484 (teaser) / 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 

➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST

➳ a/n: this fic is part of the "industry baby" collab hosted by the lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk! i'm so happy to finally release this fic in honor of spy x family season 2!

smut warnings below the cut!

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins. 

“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours. 

Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?

Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating. 

But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee. 

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.” 

Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.” 

After all, this is just pretend. 

But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner. 

Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.

check it out here!

[annwrites]

⸻ sons & daughters. aemond | street of silk outtake. ⸻

· pairing: aemond targaryen x niece!reader · type: outtake from this series · summary: aemond visits the street of silk, desperate for comfort. · tw: domestic violence, psuedo-incest, alcohol · word count: 1,980

He feels sick to his stomach for returning here. But he needs to forget.

For a night.

For an hour.

For a minute.

Needs to feel something other than excruciating fucking heartbreak and pain.

You are lost to him now. Completely. Not only are you wed to another, but carrying his child.

He wants to die.

There is no point in living if it cannot be by your side as your loving uncle, husband, and father of your children.

He'd considered taking a blade to his mother's throat for it—the letters. She had done this, hadn't she? Things might've been wildly different had she not come between the two of you. Come between him, and what rightfully belonged to him.

Instead, not but perhaps an hour ago, he'd gone to her chambers, locking the two of them inside as he raged.

"She was to be mine!" He'd shouted, throwing a glass decanter against the wall—the bottle shattering, liquid dripping down a tapestry.

"A-Aemond," she'd started, trembling, Ser Criston outside the door, trying desperately to get in as he called her name in a panic.

He'd flipped a table—candles rolling across the floor as he gave into his madness. "My niece belongs to me! She belongs with me! Not fucking there! Mine! Mine! She is mine!"

He'd ripped curtains from around her bed as she cowered in a corner.

"My fucking property! She was born for me! Created to be given to me to have and take to wife!"

He'd then wrenched open her wardrobe, pulling dresses from hangers, ripping them to shreds. "I'll burn the fucking North! I'll burn the whole God's-damned Realm if that's what it takes! I'll have Maester Orwyle cut that thing out of her, and fill her instead with my seed! A dragon, not a fucking dog! I'll feed it to Vhagar!"

Alicent had choked back a sob. "My son, please!"

He'd focused on her then, stalking toward her, and she'd panicked. Desperate for escape, she'd gripped the handles that opened the doors to her balcony, until he came from behind, yanking on her hair, turning her round.

He'd wrapped an iron-clad hand around her throat, shoving her against a wall—slamming her head back against it, sending searing pain down her spine.

He'd leaned in toward her with a sneer—his breath stinking of strongwine. "I should fucking kill you for it. You took them, didn't you? Our letters."

She'd stared into his eye.

"Answer me!" He'd shouted, causing her to jolt in terror.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she nodded.

"Where?" He'd demanded through clenched teeth.

Her eyes turned toward the room's hearth.

He'd followed her line-of-sight, squeezing harder, cutting off her airflow altogether.

"You traitorous bitch," he'd spat, looking to her once again.

He'd unsheathed a knife from his waist and she'd whimpered, clawing at his hand, staring with wide-eyes as she silently begged for mercy.

He'd pressed the sharp tip against her belly and she'd shut her eyes.

"Look at me!" He'd commanded.

She'd obeyed, her head growing light, vision beginning to darken.

He'd placed his lips directly next to her ear, the knife prodding against her. "Let this serve as a warning. If you ever betray me again—it will be the last."

With that, he released her.

She fell to the floor, coughing hoarsely, gently wrapping a hand around her bruised throat, watching as Aemond exited the room, shoving Criston aside as the knight came quickly to her aid.

And now he stands before the doors of Madame Slyvi's brothel, his hand slightly trembling as it comes to rest over the door's handle.

He feels guilt...but also doesn't. She's come between the two of you for years. She had deserved to pay for it. Dearly.

He'd let her off too easily.

He cannot return to the Keep tonight. If he does...he may very-well finish what he started.

And so he enters.

The place reeks of perfume, ale and wine, cum and sweat. But he needs this. Needs to calm himself. And there is only one way this night he may achieve it.

Madame Sylvi saunters toward him, curvaceous hips swaying as she twines a curl around her index finger. "It's good to see you again, My Prince."

Aemond does not given her so much as a smirk as he steps closer. "I want a maiden. With dark hair—soft waves. Just to my shoulder in height. Demure."

She raises a brow. "Not many maidens here, I'm afraid."

He sneers, temper boiling as he grabs her roughly by the arm. "Do you have what I fucking want or not?"

She pauses. "We have...one girl. Right description. Somewhat new. No maidenhead, I'm afraid, however. Would you like to see her?"

He nods.

"Take off your clothes," he commands.

The young woman obliges, silently slipping her sheer gown from her shoulders, and it pools at her feet.

He begins to circle her then, inspecting every inch.

She is not you—but no woman will ever be. Can ever compare. Not to his sweet, beloved, beautiful niece.

But she will have to do. Is a close enough match for what he requires her services for.

He digs in his pocket for a coin purse, pouring an obscene amount into his palm—not bothering with even attempting to count them—before holding his closed fist toward Sylvi.

She pads toward him, her open palm waiting below his hand and he releases the coins, swiftly taking the girl's hand in his, leading her into a private room.

"You are to refer to me solely as either 'Uncle', or 'Uncle Aemond', do you understand me?" He asks as he pours himself a glass of red wine.

She nods shyly. "Yes, My—" she bites her lip. "Forgive me. Uncle."

He looks at her over his shoulder. "Do not make that mistake again."

She nods once more.

He takes a long drink before setting the glass down on a table, turning back to her.

"I've paid your madame well, and, as such, I expect you to be obedient. To say and do as I please."

She looks to him from under her lashes. "Yes, Uncle."

His cock stirs.

He begins toeing off his shoes, then unlacing his breeches, kicking them to the side before he slips out of his smallclothes and then tugs his shirt off and over his head.

He takes his cock in-hand, stroking.

"You will be innocent. Ignorant to the ways of men and what they want. I will instead teach and guide you this evening. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Aemond."

The corner of his lip had tugged downward. "Your tone of voice needs be lighter. Sweeter. Like you love me."

She'd cleared her throat, trying again. "Yes, Uncle Aemond."

"Too saccharine. Again."

"Yes, Uncle Aemond," she'd stated, dropping an octave.

"Good."

He'd padded toward her, taking her face between his hands. "I am everything to you. Your entire world. You want none else but me. You worship the ground I walk on."

Her eyes flitted between his own. "I—" She'd paused, unsure how to respond. "I love you, Uncle Aemond."

He'd let out a small gasp, his cock twitching against her stomach.

He closes his eye, pressing his forehead to hers. "Say it again."

She does.

"Tell me you will never leave me."

"I'll never leave you, Uncle."

"Tell me you belong to me—you are mine and mine alone."

"I'm yours, Uncle Aemond. I belong wholly to you alone."

With that, he crushes his lips to hers, squeezing his eye shut, willing the fantasy into reality.

He pushes her gently back onto the bed and she spreads her legs, his lips smacking painfully against her own.

He takes himself in-hand, rubbing his weeping tip against her entrance before plunging inside with one firm thrust.

She whimpers and he kisses her cheek. "It it alright, my beloved niece. We're together now. None shall part us ever again, or I will kill them. I'll kill them all. I swear it."

He begins to rock his hips against hers, focusing on a vision of you within his mind's eye. Of this room being his chambers, this mattress his bed, this girl his most beloved.

He curls his fingers into her hair, moaning.

"Oh, my beloved niece," he drawls, kissing your neck and your breasts, suckling against your nipple. "You have returned to me."

"Yes, Uncle, I have," you say breathily.

He kisses your lips gently, his cock throbbing painfully inside of you.

"Mine. All mine. My niece. My love."

You carefully wrap your legs around his waist and he sinks ever-deeper.

"You wish for a child. You have always had a kind, maternal heart."

He groans, sliding a hand down your waist. "I will give you one. Shall fill you with my seed. And you will give me an heir for when I am King."

You whimper. "Please, Uncle, let me give you a son."

He presses his lips to your collarbone. "I will, beloved niece. I promise you. He shall be perfect. Because he is ours."

You throw your head back, pressing your soft breasts against his chest.

"I love you, Y/N, more than anything else in all the world. My heart is yours. It has always been."

"I love you, Uncle Aemond. Take...take me to wife. So we can be together always," you reply.

Your voice wavers slightly. You are unsure. Too worried what they all might think.

Fuck them.

Let them watch.

"Come the morn, we shall be bound as one. We should have long ago."

His hips stutter against yours as he grows closer. "Do you remember as children—Gods—all those times we had together playing pretend in so many ways. How I taught you, adored, and loved you?"

"I do, Uncle. I could never forget."

He sighs. "You cherish it as I do. Those precious memories."

"I hold them in my heart."

He kisses between your breasts.

"My beloved. My niece. Even this—even now—we came so close many a-time. And when you played as my loving wife."

He hums with happiness, kissing you passionately.

"Those times were my favorite," you reply softly.

He moves his lips to the shell of your ear. "Mine as well."

A beat of silence, just the sound of his cock easing in and out of your warm, wet, perfect cunt.

You wrap your arms around his neck, running your gentle fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead softly, cradling the back of his head.

"I love you, Uncle. I am yours. Always."

"You will never leave me," he states.

"Never. We belong together."

His cock twitches.

"You will wed me."

"I will, Uncle Aemond."

Another twitch.

"You will carry and bear our children."

"It is all I want, Uncle."

His cock strains.

"You will remain always by my side. Until your last breath. You will not—fuck—so much as look at another man. You will remain in our chambers. Safe and sound. Always waiting for me."

You press your lips to his, his hips slapping against your own, his breathing now ragged. "I will do anything you say. I will obey. I am your loyal, loving niece. I belong completely to you alone."

With that, he grips your hips painfully, slamming his cock into you, groaning, his eye squeezed tightly shut.

"Niece, niece, niece," he cries out over and over as his seed spills out of him and instead inside of you.

Into your perfect, fertile womb, where your child shall grow happily. Safely. And which much love.

And then he collapses on top of you, trembling in your arms, quietly crying.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shooshing him, cradling his head. "I'm here, Uncle. And I am never leaving."

He tightens his hold around you possessively.

"No. You aren't," he replies with finality.

[sanjoongie]

𐌕𐋅𐌄 𐌔𐋅𐌉𐌄𐌋𐌃 𐌌𐌀𐌉𐌃𐌄𐌍 𐌀𐌍𐌃 𐋅𐌄𐌓 𐌁𐌄𐌓𐌔𐌄𐌓𐌊𐌄𐌓

🐺Pairing: Berserker! San x Shield Maiden! Reader (f)

🛡Genre: smut, fluff

🐺Au: Historical Au, Viking Au, parent au

🛡Trope: established relationship (married)

🐺Word Count: 2,755

🛡Warnings: mentions of fighting, killing, blood, battle, {breast feeding}, lactation kink, breeding kink, breast play, knife play, fear kink, oral (f), penetrative sex without a barrier, pull out method, mentions of somnophilia, switch! san, switch! reader, mentions of masturbation

🐺Rated: 18+ MDNI

🛡Summary: when your husband comes back after the long raiding season, he continues his mission to keep you pregnant and away from the battlefield

🐺Author’s Note: this a self indulgent au that i have been dying to write but not finding any time to, so i decided to gift it to myself for my birthday 🥳

🛡Beta’s: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii

"I'm home!" San bellows as he sweeps aside the sheepskin that covers the door to your home.

"Papa!" Four children's voices ring out.

You watch with amusement as your horde of children practically puppy-pile your husband in an attempt to greet him. 

San lets out his belly laugh, beyond happy. Your Viking husband places his double-handed axe against the wall and sweeps up your children, all four of them, in his arms and squeezes them until they protest. 

"I have missed you," He sighs, kissing them enthusiastically on top of their heads before letting them go.

"Papa, papa!" Your oldest, Sari, pipes up. "Mama is teaching me how to wield a sword and shield!"

San's eyes swipe towards you, grinning. "You're going to be a shield maiden like your mama?"

"I'm going to beat you one day!" Sari swears solemnly.

"I don't doubt it," San nods solemnly back.

A loud wail starts up and you cluck your tongue. “Not even five minutes after your father is home and you cause mischief?”

Your eldest boy, Taewoong, the second oldest child, looks expectedly at San while your second daughter Micha sobs.

“Son.” San takes both of Taewoong’s hands in his own. “Why would you harm your younger sister? She looks up to you to protect her.”

Taewoong shoots a look at you and then looks down at the way his father’s thumb swipes lovingly.

San sighs loudly. “Please take care of Micha. When I'm not here, you're the man of the house.”

Taewoong's lower lip juts out. “Papa!” He wails.

San looks bewildered at the sudden outburst and looks to you for help. 

“He didn't expect you to be gentle with him. I'd have given him a swat by now.”

San kisses the top of Taewoong's head and then begins to tickle Micha's ribs, eyes disappearing at the sound of her laughter, tears forgotten.

“Sari, take your brother and sister to bed now. I've got to greet your mother properly,” San orders.

The three run to their shared bed, quickly shedding their clothes until they were in their bedtime nightgowns. 

“Hello wife,” San says in a low voice. “And who is this piglet in a blanket?”

You twist your lips. “That is the newest baby you left in my stomach, Husband.”

San plucks the slumbering baby from your arms and coos at the round cheeks. “Hello, baby.”

“Will you name him now that he's been born and you're home?” You ask, waiting expectantly for his reaction to the good news.

“A boy?!” He grins. He rocks his new son as if he’s the most precious person in this world. “What’s your name, hmmm?”

“If you’ve any love for me, you’d name this one for a softer life,” You grumble.

“What about Hajoon? Perhaps he’ll take on your storytelling and be a bard or a poet!” San offers.

“Stories?” Sari pipes up from the bed. 

“Stories!” Micha echoes her older sister.

“Please?” Taewoong adds belatedly, knowing he’s already pushed enough this evening.

 San looks at you with wide eyes. You sigh and roll yours. “I always tell them stories before they sleep, you know this, you silly man.”

“My fierce shield maiden wife tells stories to our children?” San pretends to be ignorant.

“You must tell the tale of when you met Papa!” Sari insists.

“You’ve heard that more times than I care to count!’ You protest. “Surely you want a new tale now that Papa is here?”

Micha shakes her head. “No! Want stories about Papa!”

San gently slips the babe back to you. “I’ll tell the story. Mine’s much better.” 

He discards his furs and sits on the bed with his children, in simply his pants, bearing all his tattoos and scars. 

Hajoon shifts after being moved so much and he begins to whimper. “It’s okay, sweet boy,” you whisper. “Mama will feed you.”

San’s voice bounces off your walls as he launches into his version of how you two met.

“Papa was in a large battle, two major armies crashing together, it was glorious. So many men were sent to Valhalla by my axe. The battle lasted all day and all night and when the sun rose, I found myself surrounded by many other warriors still. My berserker blood rage had settled and I began to get tired and weary. Just as I felt my eyes drooping,” San pauses to roar and the children scream in delight. “I heard a battle cry and saw a Valkyrie descend from the heavens. She was heavenly, in both her beauty and her bloodlust. She carried two blades that she swung with accuracy and deadliness. She carved through many warriors until finally she appeared in front of me. I was caught in her spell and there was nothing I could do if she decided to finish me and carry me to Valhalla.”

“Mama,” Sari sends me a dirty look, as if to scold me for attempting to kill her Papa.

San laughs under his breath and then becomes serious again. “She pointed her swords at me and said, ‘you’ll become my husband’. I had no choice!”

Taewoong’s adorable face screws up in confusion. “If Mama is so good, why doesn’t she go on the raids?”

San’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s talked himself into a corner, so to speak. 

“Yes, Papa,” You say Papa as if it’s derogatory. “Tell them why Mama doesn’t fight anymore.”

San begins to pout, his signature way to speak when he knew suddenly the things weren’t going his way. “Your Mama needs to stay here with you! And protect you! What if someone came raiding here? No one is better to keep you safe than Mama.”

Micha’s lips begin to quiver at the realization that she and her siblings are in danger. San has to assure her that there is no need to be afraid and soon all the children are tucked firmly and off to slumberland.

“Papa duties complete,” San says with a proud smile.

“Good. The babe’s fallen asleep as well,” You murmur.

You place Hajoon in the sling that rocks him to sleep and tuck yourself back into your dress. Your eyes meet San’s when you catch him looking at you hungrily. 

“San,” You say his name in warning.

Your husband sweeps you up, carrying you in his capable arms and brings you to your bed, on the opposite side of the house. He keeps himself aloft over you, but his lower half pins you in place. 

“I missed you,” he whispers and then collapses his weight on you. 

His head is tucked in between your shoulder and head and you pat his head reassuringly. “I missed you too, husband.”

“The birth wasn’t too hard?” San wonders, rubbing his cheek against your skin. 

“It was fine, San,” You say, moving your hand down to his back to absentmindedly run your fingers along his spine.

For a moment, you trace his scars from memory. He was acquiring new ones that you hadn't witnessed and it sent a pang to your heart. You missed the days when you used to battle at San’s side and then fuck with the blood of your enemies still wet on your skin. 

“Would you have told our children the true reason I remain at home?” You can’t help but wonder.

San raises his head and you watch an unfamiliar emotion cross his eyes: fear. “I was convinced for the longest time that you would become jealous and think I had found another lover. I dreamt of you slitting my throat with a savage grin while I slept.”

“San, that’s absolutely ridiculous,” You deny. “First of all, if I was going to kill you, I would make sure that you were awake for it, especially if I thought you were cheating on me.”

San puts a finger to your lips to halt whatever you were going to say secondly. “But now it’s because I love our horde of children. But I love it even more when you’re heavy with child and I can just fuck you whenever I want. I love your body when you’re full with a child.”

“San,” you say his name hoarsely. Damn Viking man and his breeding kink. 

His eyes wander down your body to your chest and he cups one of your breasts. “Let me suckle from your breast, love,” he whispers naughtily.

“The babe needs that milk!” 

San smiles mischievously. “He can have the other breast. This one is mine.”

Your viking husband pulls the top of your dress down your arms, effectively both trapping your arms in place and spilling your breasts to him. One leaks with milk, where Hajoon had been feeding, and San moans quietly.

“San, the children!” You protest one more time.

“Shhhh,” San hushes you, “The babes don’t understand. Besides, if you’re quiet enough, they won’t wake.”

You whimper as San takes one breast into his mouth, tongue lapping at the tip, and then begins to suck to pull the milk from it. His blunt fingernail plays with the areola of the other, bringing it to a point as well. After months of being on your own, your back arches as the familiar touch of your husband practically burns into your skin.

“My poor wife,” San chuckles lowly. “You need the touch of your husband to bring you back to life?”

“Please, don’t stop,” You murmur and San doesn’t.

His treatment of your breasts, weighting them in his palm, and squeezing them softly, was almost akin to adoration. He was careful to not be rough, aware of just how sensitive you were now that you were fresh from a birth and breastfeeding. 

With your milk still on his lips, San continues to tease you verbally. “I bet you’re aching and wet for me, aren’t you, love of my life?”

Your thighs clench at his words. “I brought myself with my fingers a few times once you were gone. You know how gooey I am when I’m pregnant.”

San groans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he moves down your body, abandoning your breasts at the thought of your wet cunt. On his way down, he pays homage to every piece of skin he passes. Any scar or cellulite or stretch mark gets kisses as well. 

The way San makes love to your body would be the proof that your husband would never cheat on you. Then again, the way San makes love to your body would also be a key motivator to ensure he never did the same with anyone else. 

San peppers your mound and out lips with kisses, murmuring praise against your sensitive skin. “Daddy missed you,” escaping his lips once or twice.

You snicker under your breath which quickly turns into a breathy whine as San places a tender kiss right on your clit. Then his tongue delves into your folds, tracing your inner lips and tasting you. He takes his time, re-learning every crease and dip of your cunt. It’s equal parts coming back home and giving you what you missed.

Your core is aching as San tongues your hole, using it to stretch you a bit, but mostly to wind you up. Just when you think he’s going to climb back up your body and fill you up with his cock, he halts his progress to flick and circle your clit. You growl in frustration and dig your hand into his hair. 

“If you don’t fuck me right this second, I’m going to milk you for all your worth and they will have a husk of a man to send back out when raiding seasons starts again,” You threaten.

A flash of fear permeates San’s eyes. “Yes, wife,” he replies demurely.

You take the lead, flipping the two of you so that you are on top now. San’s hair briefly fans out above his head and his dark eyes take you in. 

“Take your pleasure from me, queen,” San says huskily.

You lift an eyebrow in question as you begin to rub your wet folds against San’s erect cock lying against his stomach. “Don’t you mean valkyrie?”

San’s eyes slid to the side as he witnesses you pull your knife from under the pillow he was on. His eyes widen and he holds himself still. “I’ll call you whatever you want, shield maiden. Take from me what you what, simply leave me alive another day to feel your sweet cunt wrapped around me.”

“This sweet cunt has given you more than enough babies, San,” You say in a low voice. You begin to move your hips only as the flat of your blade is brought against San’s throat. 

San’s Adam’s apple bobs deliciously in anxiousness. “If I keep you pregnant with my babies, you’ll stay off the battlefield. You terrify me, wife of mine. Your bloodlust makes me look like a fawn who does not know danger.”

You lean forward, still tilting your hips in leisure. “Are you saying you fear your wife? The mother of your children?”

“I fear the shield maiden who stole my heart and is just as capable of breaking open my rib cage and stealing it again,” San whispers. 

You felt your inner fire, your warrior’s soul, light up with those words. Your hips began to move with more vigor, a delighted grin opening your lips. “Good, that’s how I prefer you.”

San groans loudly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure as you bounce more enthusiastically against his pelvis. He slaps his hand over his mouth, aware that now he might wake the children. His eyes are wide with worry as you continue to ride his pronounced hips. 

With your fervor activity, your short sword makes a line along San’s neck and his pupils blow out. Nothing like enacting the bloodlust during a fuck to get both of your blood going. 

“Dare you come inside me, husband?” You purr quietly. “With my sword against your neck so pretty like?”

San whines behind his hand at your words. You can feel his pelvis muscles flexing with each time your ass meets his hips, so that he can fuck you harder, or at least, give you more. 

Meanwhile, with each stroke of San’s girthy cock inside of you, you can feel your orgasm coming within your grasp. You withdraw your sword from San’s neck just in time as it hits. You arch your back, a silent cry releasing from your lips, your sought after climax finally ripping through you. It’s everything you had dreamed about while your husband had been raiding.

San, fast as lightning, flips you over before the vice grip of your pussy pushes him over the edge inside of you. He comes with his teeth dug into his bottom lip, fisting his cock and his seed spurts over your mound and your lower stomach. He pants as he continues to dirty your body, fist moving slower and slower as his high leaves him.

He grins, shoulders moving with each breath. “Now that was a welcome home fuck.”

You stand up to find the bowl you keep of water and a rag. Often you clean yourself up from the mess of the milk from your breasts so it’s no added labor to wash San’s cum from your body too. 

“You are a debased man, husband of mine,” You murmur under your breath.

“That’s why you married me!” San protests. 

“The breast milk is new,” You throw over your shoulder. 

San scratches the back of his head, still crouching on the bed, his legs under his body. “I love every part of you,” He admits, “Why not that too?”

Once you settle back into bed, San cleans himself up too and then settles behind you pulling your body flush with his. He nuzzles your shoulder and hums contently. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to make another baby with me?”

You sigh, still rolling your eyes at San’s antics. “Why don’t we play a game? If you can fuck me while I sleep without waking me, you can fill me up to your hearts content. And if I wake up then, you better be ready to finish with your mouth.”

You can practically hear the glee in San’s voice when he replies. “And that’s why I married you.”

And then he’s snoring like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You find yourself drifting off to sleep as well, feeling safe and happy in San’s arms.

[midnightcrw]

You know that “your child gets in trouble prompt”??

Yea I need that with König please

Fight / 2

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: Your child gets in trouble

a/n: I was very unsure how to write about König, so I hope the way I portrayed him is alright

Part 1

"Scheiße! I thought I raised him well. What if he used the knife I gave him for self-defence?" König had panicked the moment the phone call had ended.

"You gave him a knife?!" You asked in shock.

"No... okay, maybe yes?" König said with a nervous tone but before you could scold him, he just pulled you outside to drive to Leon's school.

And now sitting here, the fear vanished and König was left feeling irritated.

Your son, Leon, only defended himself when he was getting picked on and Mr. Smith only saw the fault in Leon.

Even the boy's parents made him angry. They literally insulted yours and his son which was another low point in his eyes.

Leon only had a small bruise on his face, but other than that he seemed fine.

The moment you and König sat down, Leon seemed relieved to finally have you two next to him again without feeling alone anymore.

"Arschloch..." König muttered under his breath, thinking he hadn't been heard until the child's father looked at him in confusion.

"What?" He asked.

"Oh, it's a compliment, don't worry about it. 'Du siehst aus wie ein Arschloch', means something good."

The man's face lit up a little with a smile on his face as he thanked your husband for the supposed 'compliment'.

Leon bit his lip, trying to hide his grin as he hid his face on your shoulder, not wanting to laugh at the fact that his dad just insulted the boy's father.

You just sighed quietly, not knowing whether to laugh or get angry with him.