#and loves his wife and helps her around her store when she
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"you lost to the subway bosses? well! great job, boys! though, if you're challenging us now, trainer... let's just say, our sons had to have learnt their skills from somewhere."
submas' parents won the poll! here's a quick drawing of them. if they make eye contact with you, as a trainer, you're probably screwed.
+ some alternate outfits for laylea
had some headcanons but lost steam to draw them out so i'll just dump them here under the cut:
Laylea
a (currently retired) top battler in the pokémon tournament circuit. has high placings in a lot of regional championships under her belt. after retirement, now mostly helps others work with more aggressive pokémon.
a passionate and affectionate woman. some may underestimate her, thinking her a kindly old lady to take advantage of... before she utterly decimates them, with or without her pokémon involved.
speaking of which, she loves battling. she isn't particularly fond of all the usual fragile 'gifts for mom' usually found in stores. so, every mother's day, ingo & emmet give her something she actually enjoys: a good, tough battle. and other things, of course, like a nice dinner, or coming home to help with all the housework, but the battle is the Big Thing. a tradition at this point.
her husband is a short king with a brilliant mind and she loves him a lot.
her kids inherited at least some of her height, so they aren't short, but she's still taller and stronger physically than them. and she loves them to bits too.
youngest of four siblings, the eldest being gym leader / mayor drayden of opelucid city. everyone in this family is super tall and/or super buff, and she's no exception.
a tradition in her family is for the firstborn child to receive an axew egg from their parents... but laylea was indignant about not getting anything special, so she went out to catch an axew herself - her first pokémon, astrid. she does continue the tradition later on with ingo receiving an egg of astrid's as the slightly elder son.
while prodigial son drayden focuses exclusively on dragons, laylea also raises various vaguely draconic / reptiliean pokémon outside her family's type.
she cut her blood family off years ago, however, because... well, let's just say the scars on her body aren't all from pokémon or strangers, and neither are those on her kids'.
in terms of battling, her skill lies in being able to adapt on the fly in the midst of battle; knowing when to go on the offence or defence, when a powerful strategy just won't work and switching tracks to counter the counter, etc.
her design is slightly based off the bw/2 female veteran sprite.
Akito
a former travelling trainer and top battler. like his wife, he has quite a few tournament wins to his name. now tutors others in battling techniques.
while certainly a kindly, reasonable person, he also definitely leans more pragmatic, to the point of being considered, by those who know him, as a bit of a sly trickster, who gets his fun from catching others by surprise.
in fact, in his youth, he was considered quite a polite sweet-talker, except he used his charm mostly to convince people to battle him, so he could win and take their money, which is essentially how he covered all his living costs on the road. it's how he met laylea, in fact, deciding that this rich girl was going to help him top up his funds for the next few weeks... only to get his ass whooped hard.
they became friends, and eventually a couple, after that, though. laylea was moping over people underestimating her as a lady and hence not wanting to battle her, and suddenly this handsome guy around her age shows up asking for a battle? hell yes.
his right leg was severely injured in a run-in with team plasma a few years before bw1; now needs a walking frame to move around by himself, or otherwise the support of his pokémon. or, he can just ride his pokémon around. or just let laylea carry him - she can easily lift him, even considers it good weight training to maintain her strength. he still makes it a point to walk by himself sometimes, though.
he really loves his wife who can beat the stuffing out of everyone (including him) in multiple ways. he also loves his weird wonderful kids.
his mother was from a small town in kitakami, but fell in love with and married a foreigner. the happy couple still stays in kitakami, and akito brings his wife and kids to visit them every year. however, growing up mixed-race in a small, rural, conservative town wasn't a very happy experience for akito, which is why he decided on the life of a wanderering trainer to get out of there.
in fact, akito's mother descends from hisuian immigrants from the pearl clan, forced out of their home by the galaxy team's annexation of the region. so, akito and his parents can speak the old hisuian language relatively fluently, and i&e picked it up at their grandparents' behest to not let the language die out. (which comes in very, very handy later for one of them...)
akito is the strategist to laylea's general; his skill lies in laying out battle plans and combinations to be used in battles, e.g. beat up + justified, consistent speed control via tailwind, hazards + force-switching opponents etc. they make a good pair: akito charts the course, laylea pilots the team.
his design takes cues from the dppt veteran sprite. also, he's bald. ingo had to have gotten it from somewhere.
Some other assorted notes
mom has grey hair turning white, dad has black hair turning grey. mom has golden eyes, dad has silver.
yes, one parent having a krookodile and the other having a togekiss is an intentional reference to the glitch submas mons from a bw beta build.
in fact, this is how i realise that krookodile (ground) + togekiss (flying) = gliscor (ground/flying). it's most likely a coincidence given we were never meant to know about the krookodile and togekiss, and gliscor has a whole other list of genius reasons for it being ingo's ace, but it's still cute.
absol was chosen over lucario as the justified pokémon on akito's team (krookodile can provide the beat up) to 1) not copy cynthia / volo and 2) additional yin-yang theming.
ingo really takes after both his parents (haxorus from mom, probopass from dad + considering giving laylea a flygon as well so ground types also from mom). the way i draw his hairstyle hatless is also swept back similarly to his mom's.
meanwhile, emmet, uh... i'm considering giving akito some bugs to better play into the "seemingly weak but terrifying with the right strategy and direction" theme, but don't have any solid ideas for which ones yet. any suggestions are appreciated. was also considering switching probopass with magnezone (also part of ingo's l:a team and adds electric typing for emmet), but imo the latter is too popular and i'd rather give probopass a chance to shine.
#pokemon#submas#pokemon black and white#my art#my ocs#i don't see a lot of old / middle-aged submas parents even though their sons are adults (though it might just be my fandom circles oops)#so here you go#my hcs
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reading caboose's page on the rvb fan wiki is kinda sickening ngl. please learn how to reference people with tbi like. "this is caboose. he is very stupid. there is major brain damage or w/e but liek. his main attributes are his idiocy and how fucking dumb he is. basically a baby if it could talk. cant even use a gun" thats fucked up. i personally know several people with tbis who are still happily married (possibly sexually active, i never asked), full ass adults with lives and cares and worries and struggles. its so unfair that everyone treats wash's cerebral hypoxia with grace and delicacy (bar the whole character arc of carolina handling it with less grace and more fear) but caboose is just an idiot? why does wash get that "is this what donut feels like all the time" but not "is this what caboose feels all the time"? it breaks my heart (and scares me) that when seeing someone struggling with understanding their reality and word comprehension a lot of reactions are just "stupid"
tldr: stop fucking treating diabled people like invalids for fucks sake
(edit: ive been informed that caboose suffers from an abi (aquired brain injury), not a tbi (traumatic brain injury).)
#every times i see peopel describe caboose like this#i see sweet mr bob who always gave me a peppermint#and loves his wife and helps her around her store when she#cant leave him at home. who called an ambulance for her when she needed it#who cooks meals sometimes and takes care of their pets and gardens#who would beam at his toddler grandson and wave and ask him all the right questions#if thats not living then what is#what about these things made him 'stupid'? bc hes gullible?#yeah if i gave him something and told him to drink it he would. bc of TRUST#and people taking advantage of that is never his fault#blue team talk#rant#rvb#red vs blue#michael j caboose#agent washington#franklin delano donut
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nanami kento is the kind of man that makes people swoon without even realising it.
he's the kind of man to walk into a luxury store after work, suit jacket folded over one arm and a bouquet of flowers in the other -- his blonde hair still mostly perfect from the high-end pomade he uses. he scours the shelves, frowning to himself, while the attendants whisper and giggle amongst themselves near the tills -- an argument over who will be the one to talk to him, because he's intimidatingly pretty.
("just look at him," one whispers. "he's definitely buying something for a girlfriend."
"a wife," another disagrees. "c'mon. he's giving husband vibes."
someone hums. "but i can't see a wedding band."
"his mother, maybe?" says one other. "oh, i love when guys come in shopping for their mother."
"nobody's mother is getting a bouquet of a hundred red roses--")
eventually, one of them is volunteered as a sacrifice -- smiling and sweet as all attendants should be, she clears her throat. the others, crowded around the till, watch the exchange closely. "excuse me, sir. is there anything we could help you with today?"
her mouth is dry and her hands are clammy -- and when he fixes her with those narrow, burning eyes, her throat bobs.
"ah, yes." and his voice is deep and gravelly and drawling, and her stomach turns. she can only imagine what her coworkers are thinking -- hell, she can only imagine what she's thinking. her mind has stopped short. "my girlfriend likes this brand quite a bit. i thought i'd pick her up something..."
disappointment brews in her stomach -- and it's stupid, she knows it's stupid, because obviously a guy like that is taken. and -- she glances down at the roses -- obviously he treats her super fucking well. of course he does, because why wouldn't he? "oh, perfect! do you have anything in mind?"
"well, actually..."
he ends up buying one of the priciest gift boxes available -- fancy body care and perfume laid out in their signature boxes, decorated with ribbon and dried lavender -- no argument, no fight. he doesn't look for something cheaper, doesn't try to haggle or remove something to decrease the price. he adds, and adds, and adds -- and when she mentions a special offer at the till, a little add on for an extra 2000 yen, he accepts it readily. he inserts a black card into the card machine (of course, a black card), takes the beautifully wrapped bag, and thanks the girls for their services -- and just as he's leaving, his phone rings.
of course he answers the phone with hello, darling. of course he begins to ask his girlfriend about her day, the girls think with some amount of annoyance -- of course. maybe the curse of retail isn't entitled assholes expecting you to wait on hand and foot for them -- maybe it's the handsome men coming in to splurge on their girlfriends while you're painfully single and working for pennies.
#i.e. this is what i fantasize abt while working luxury retail#and of course reader is his gf likeeeeeeeeeeee#i could write about him forever#also hes not one of those men who doesnt know ANYTHING abt what u like#he knows what scents u like what textures u like your skin type your hair routine EVERYTHIGN#nanami x reader#kento x reader#jjk x reader#anime x reader#nanami x you#kento x you#jjk x you#anime x you#nanami au#kento au#jjk au
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Best Friends Brother ⊹ . + °
| Charlie Weasley x fem!reader
summary: You are Fred & George’s best friend, and meet their mysterious older brother, Charlie, at a product launch at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
cw: MDNI 18+ smut with basically zero plot. charlie has an absolutely filthy mouth. no war (or light war? idk, everyone is alive)
an: this was supposed to be a casual hook up when I initally planned it, but the dick was so good they fell in love ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
> Part Two
+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +
Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a line around the building, hopeful witches and wizards desperate to get a glimpse of the Weasley twin’s newest product. You strolled past them in your mini dress and tights, more than a little chuffed by their jealous glares.
The doors were locked, blocked off with enchanted rope, but when Fred spotted you through the window, he ran to unlock the doors.
“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Georgie, looks who’s here!” Fred slung an arm over your shoulders and ushered you into the store. It was the cleanest you’d ever seen it, with streamers and lights strung everywhere, and a long table loaded with food and drink.
“Y/n!” George shouted, popping up from behind the register. Both of them were dressed in freshly pressed brown suits, looking exceptionally dapper. He came aroud the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming out.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you grinned up at them, pride filling your chest. You’d been close with the twins for years, a friendship that started in school and only grew in adulthood, since you worked a few doors down at Honeydukes.
“Come, you have to meet our family!” They ushered you upstairs, where a dozen or so people waited, several faces were familiar, some were not.
“You remember Harry, Ron, and Ginny,” George said, and you greeted them all with a wave.
“And our parents, Molly and Arthur,” Fred continued.
“Oh, y/n! How lovely to see you!” Molly cooed, pulling you into a rib-cracking hug. “My, what a beautiful young lady you’ve grown into.” She pinched you cheek, and heat scorched your face.
“And this is our older brother’s Percy, Charlie, and Bill. And Bill’s wife, Fleur.”
You turned to the trio of men hovering by the bookcases, and nearly tripped over your heels. Percy, you remembered from school, Fleur as well, and Bill was too busy gazing down at her blonde head to glance your way. But Charlie. He stared straight through you, his dark eyes swallowing you whole.
“Pleasure,” Charlie said, his voice honeyed and deep. He was shorter that Percy beside him, but muscular enough that the maroon blazer he wore seemed a little stretched at the shoulders. His white button down shirt beneath it was tailored perfectly to fit across his wide chest and taper at his defined waist. Freckles kissed his cheeks and forehead, his skin a shade tanner than his siblings, though he shared their ginger hair, mid-length and wavy.
“Hello,” you managed, giving him a small smile. But before you could engage further, George whisked you away.
“It’s tiiiime!” Fred shouted, waving his wand, and the doors burst open.
+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +
As the event raged on, you found yourself drawn to Charlie’s orbit, watching as he mingled with guests and chatted with his family. He seemed to draw a lot of attention, what with his rugged good looks and the fact that he was a dragon trainer. It seemed everyone wanted a sliver of Charlie Weasley’s attention.
So you admired him from a far, and tried to help Fred and George as best you could.
You chatted with customers, explaining the new product the best you could, but you kept feeling the tug of someone’s attention at the nape of your neck, distracting you. When the customer finally moved on, you glanced towards the direction of the feeling, and caught Charlie watching you over the rim of his fire whiskey, ignoring the gentleman attempting to talk to him entirely.
The air froze in your lungs, you heart tripping over itself. His gaze was scorching, and if looks could burn…you were certain your clothes would be rendered to ash.
Desire pooled in your lower belly, heating your blood to an uncomfortable degree. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you missed George approach.
“Hey, y/n, enjoying yourself?” He asked, offering you a glass of champagne with a candy snitch floating in it.
You accepted with a smile. “I am, thank you. You guys have done an incredible job.”
George beamed, clinking your glasses together before loping off to sell to another customer.
“So, how long have you known my brothers?” A low voice murmured in your ear, and you whirled around, nearly spilling champagne all over Charlie’s front. He caught your elbow with a steady hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy, love,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“Oh, uh, f-five years? I think,” you stuttered, looking anywhere but his smoldering eyes.
“Then how have we never met? I’d certainly remember you.”
You shrugged a shoulder, taking what you hoped was a casual sip of wine. “Seems you haven’t been paying much attention,” you teased, finally meeting his eyes.
His smirk grew into a soft smile. “What a grave error on my part.”
“Are you in town for the event, or…?” You could feel heat climbing up your neck, but you willed yourself to keep a level head. You knew how to flirt, had done so with plenty of blokes in your time, but none as handsome and disarming as Charlie.
“I thought so, but evidently the Gods had other ideas.”
You knees nearly buckled. “Like?” You coyly tilted your head, allowing your eyes to trail across his broad shoulders, down his chest. Was this guy seriously flirting with you? You knew you weren’t unattractive, but Charlie was…phew.
“Like…” He flushed a little, betraying his suave demeanor, and your heart slipped a little further into his hands. “Meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Ever?” You teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.
“In this life and probably the next.” He took a sip of his whiskey, letting his eyes wander over you the same way yours did him. And based on the way they darkened, his pupils widening just a fraction, he liked what he saw as much as you did.
“Does that line always work for you?”
“Well, considering I’ve never tried it, why don’t you tell me?”
+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +
Charlie slammed the door shut behind you before crowding you against it, his lips colliding with yours. He tasted like whiskey and pumpkin, with a tinge of cigarette smoke that went straight to your head, and you eagerly tangled your tongue with his, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.
“Colloportus,” he murmured against your mouth, and you heard the lock schick into place. He shrugged his blazer off, tossing it somewhere in the dark storage closet, and his hands were on you again, one sliding into your hair, the other on your lower back, drawing you closer.
“Charlie?” You gasped as his lips traveled down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his short beard a rough contrast to the suppleness of his kiss.
“Yeah, honey?” he panted, lifting his head to meet your eyes.
“I don’t usually…” you trailed off, nerves suddenly closing your throat.
His hand slid from your hair to cup your cheek, his callouses rough against your heated skin. “Me neither,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “We can do whatever you want, love. I’ll take you to the nicest restaurant in London, or on Dragon-back to the Swiss Alps, or on a cruise ship to the Americas—”
You cut him off with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. “And if I want you to fuck me?” you said between pecks, tugging at the roots of his hair.
He smiled and scooped you up by the meat of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your skirt pushed up over your hips. “Then I’ll fuck you as often as ya’ like.” He turned and dropped you onto some kind of work bench, sending the papers and junk flying with a sweep of his arm.
“The twin’s are going to be pissed,” you giggled, leaning back onto the wood so he could continue his previous assault on your neck.
“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbones. His hands gripped your thighs with dizzying strength, the same hands that handled massive, fire-breathing beasts, and spread you open for his hungry gaze. “Seven fucking hells,” he breathed, running his hands down your inner thighs. “You’re perfect.”
In a swift motion, he ripped your tights at the seam, the sound sending a pulse of arousal to your already dripping pussy, a sharp gasp forcing it’s way from your throat. His fingers glided over your wet panties, so delicate compared to the force he’d used heartbeat before.
Your hips lifted slightly, chasing his gentle touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this desperate for someone to touch you, your entire body tuned to his every breath, every twitch of his muscles. He looked so fucking good leaning over you, his previously tidy shirt rumpled, his hair in copper waves around his face, his lips a little red from your fevered kisses.
With his ring finger, her drew your panties to the side, his middle fingers gliding through your slit and circling your clit twice. “Already so wet for me, honey. What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.
Your brain couldn’t formulate a response, his touch mind-numbing. Pleasure radiated form his fingers, syrupy and languid, with none of the frenetic energy from before. A moan slipped past your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he coaxed your pussy to bloom for him.
“And such pretty sounds.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve with his free hand, exposing the muscles and veins along his thick forearm. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger inside of you, large enough to stretch you slightly.
“Fuck, Charlie,” you whined, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could watch him play with you.
“I suppose I shouldn’t stretch this out too long, someone might come looking for us,” he mused. “But I could spend a fucking eternity spoiling this greedy little pussy.” He slipped another finger into you channel, pumping them a few times just to feel your cunt suck him back in. “Would you like that, love?” He tilted your chin up with his free hand, an unspoken request for an answer.
“Y-yes, Charlie. Please,” you panted, stretching up to steal a quick peck. He deepened the kiss, shifting his weight to press you back down onto the desk as his tongue flirted with yours. His hand picked up the pace, fucking you steadily as he devoured your mouth, teeth skating along your swollen flesh before sucking lightly on your tongue.
You don’t know what God blessed him with such a skilled tongue, but you needed to make an offering in thanks stat.
But since you couldn’t do that…
“Charlie?” You asked, reaching around to touch his wrist between your legs.
He immediately stopped, withdrawing his hand completely. “What’s wrong?” He searched your face for signs of discomfort, his brows drawn together.
You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before sliding off the desk. He watched you, confused and concerned, then you lowered yourself to your knees and his jaw went slack.
“Honey, you don’t have to—”
“Please, Charlie?” You batted your lashes up at him, tugging lightly on his belt.
“Merlin’s fucking—I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that, sweetheart.”
“Then don’t,” you teased, undoing his belt and zipper. You could see the outline of his cock against his black boxers, thick and throbbing as you glided your fingers over it.
He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table with one of his hands. Encouraged, you dragged the flat of your tongue over the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the wetness collecting by the swollen head.
“I must have died in the dragon pit and gone to heaven. My god, woman,” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair to keep it from blocking the sight.
You giggled, licking a few more stripes before reaching up to free him. His cock sprung out, veiny and flushed pink. And, to your absolute shock and delight, even his cock was freckled.
“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you praised, and his cheeks flushed pink. You laved your tongue along the thickest vein, earning a throaty groan. You sucked the head into your mouth, lapping up the precum pearling from his slit.
Charlie’s head fell back, one of his hands sliding into your hair. He didn’t add any pressure, just held you as you started to suck him, moving a little further down each time. You wrapped your hand around the base, there was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth, and started pumping him, matching the motions with your mouth. His skin was like velvet, soft and smooth, and you loved feeling him pulse against your tongue with every dip of your head.
“You are too damn good at that. So fucking pretty swallowing my cock.” His thumb stroked your cheek while he gazed down at you, stars in his eyes. “You like sucking me off, honey?”
You nodded as best you could, flicking your tongue at the groove just beneath the head. His hips lurched forward, a grunt escaping through his teeth.
“Fuck, sorry, love. I’m trying to stay still for ya’, but feels so fucking good.”
You reached up and guided his hand into your hair, then used it to push your head down, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.
He smirked, his hand fisting in your hair. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He started moving your head along his shaft, rocking his hips in time with the movements. He went easy at first, but as drool began to track down your chin, your eyes rolling back in bliss, he picked up the pace. But he only fucked your mouth for a few, punishing strokes before lifting you off of him. He slammed his mouth to yours, a harsh, hungry kiss that had you seeing stars.
You whined in protest, but he shushed you by lifting you into the air and setting you on the table once more.
“If you thought I wasn’t going to fuck you, you’re mad,” he gruffed, dragging the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips. “That is, if you still want me to?”
“Yes, fuck, now, Charlie. Please.” You spread your legs a little wider for him,
“Anything for you, love.” He leaned down and kissed you again, sliding his cock into your depths at the same time. The feeling of being filled by him bordered on divine, silken and hot. He was stretching you just enough to leave you with that delicious ache between your legs. You moaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds caught up by his tongue parting your lips and caressing yours.
He drew his hips back, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch of one another, before he slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. It seemed he was at the end of his control, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you hard, jostling the desk beneath you and making the shelves along the walls rock.
“Fuck, Charlie. Feels so good,” you cried, trying and failing to keep yourself quiet as he railed you, every thrust like a lightning strike of pleasure through your body.
“Yeah? You take my cock so well, baby. Wet little pussy squeezing the life outta’ me,” he groaned, his hair tickling your face. “So good f’me, honey. Like you were made for me.”
Your muscles tightened, veering closer and closer to your peak, his praise sending little pulses of bliss your clit.
“You like being praised, baby? Hearing how perfect you are for me? Fuck, I can feel how much you like that, squeezing me so hard.” His hand slipped between you, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over you puffy clit. “Come for me, y/n. I know you can. I want to feel you fall apart around me. That’s a good girl—”
Your cry drowned out his praise as your peak crashed over you, visceral and exquisite. The world vanished, blown apart by the burst of starlight in your chest as you came for him. Pulses of pleasure made your body shake and buck, your eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it.
“That’s it, honey. Such a good fucking girl. Merlin, you’re gonna make me come.” He rested on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, hitting an entirely new angle as you came back into your body.
“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to him. ”I’ve got ya’, love. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—fuck.” A strangled groan broke from his throat and you felt his cock swell, then kick against your walls, the first hot stream of release painting your insides.
He rested his head on your shoulder as he muscles trembled, his hips pressed flush to yours. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, still weak from that soul-shaking orgasm. His lips passed over your shoulder, your clavicle, up your neck, before finally ghosting of your lips, soft and breathless.
You remained like that for longer than you probably should have, enraptured with one another. You'd been complete strangers a few hours ago, but this wasn't a hook up akin to a one night stand. This was the reunification of two beings, the re-raveling of a soul tie.
“Y/n,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your temple. “Y/n, y/n, y/n…” He held you like he'd die if he let go.
“Charlie,” you exhaled, nuzzling behind his ear.
“Can I take you to Romania with me?” He whispered, a joke, you presumed, but there was no humor in his voice.
“I've never seen a dragon before—”
The door knob jiggled, and someone pressed against it, the wood groaning.
“Shit.” Charlie jumped backwards, scrambling to right your dress and smooth your hair.
“Hey, Freddie! This doors locked for some reason.”
“Charlie, your dick,” you snickered while he wiped away a smudge of your lipstick.
“Fuck, right.”
“Alohamor—”
“COLLOPORTUS,” Charlie barked out, snatching his wand from his boot.
“Charlie?” George called, knocking on the door.
Charlie tucked you behind him and undid the spell, peeking the door open. “If you say another word, you're dragon food,” he growled, and you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.
“You got a girl in there, mate?” George asked, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“George,” Charlie warned.
“Fine, fine. You've got ten minutes before I actually need to get in there.” George knocked once more then strode away, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.
Charlie sagged against the door, exhaling. “I'm sorry, love,” he said, turning to you.
You pecked his cheek. “Don't be sorry, that was the best lay of my life.” You tried to reassure him, despite the curdling sadness in your chest.
A shy smile broke through his serious expression. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “I can only imagine how good it would be when we had all the time in the world,” you murmured against his ear, a shiver rolling down his spine. It was better to leave it like this, flirty, casual, than with whatever…that was.
“I mean, we’ve got ten minutes…”
You patted his chest and slipped out of the door, finding George waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed.
His jaw dropped. “Y/n!”
Charlie ran out behind you. “I swear to God, George—”
“Are all Weasley's this dramatic?” You closed George's mouth with a finger under his chin.
“Where did—when did—how?” George stuttered, looking back and forth between the two of you.
Charlie smirked, shrugging back on his blazer. “I'll explain when you're older,” Charlie teased. “Would you like a drink, y/n?”
“I'd love one.“ You threaded your arm through his, and together returned to the party.
> Part Two
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Thanks for reading!
If you enjoyed, please check out my published work here.
Much love,
Allie
#harry potter fanfiction#charlie weasley#charlie weasley x reader#charlie weasley x you#charlie weasley x y/n#charlie weasley fanfiction#the weasleys#charlie weasley smut#harry potter smut#harry potter fandom#weasley twins#smut no plot#weasley twins x reader#weasley twins fanfiction
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oh, loverboy - dbf!joel miller
authors note - listen, i love myself some pedro pascal but game!joel?? another level for me, ok. you can picture with either game!joel or show!joel, you do you. i haven't written in five years and i have come out of writing retirement just for this man. pls be kind to me!! any feedback is appreciated, especially as this is my first smut in so long and i'm used to writing about peaky blinders boys! feel free to send me asks, requests, whatever whatever u want
warnings - dbf!joel, afab, reader described as wearing a dress, dry humping, cheating (joel is married!!), joel takes readers underwear, reader is v horny and shameless about it, facesitting/riding (aka reader would kill joel irl), lots of dirty talk, pussy pronouns, brief female masturbation and brief mention of male masturbation, dryer is in the kitchen cause i'm british ok!!!, slight cum play but not really, use of the word slut, joel gets off on having just hair pulled at js, somewhat switch!joel towards the end but maybe not idk, semi-public sex, office sex, age gap (20 years, the rest is down to you)
word count - 8k.
You knew it was wrong to be besotted with your parent’s best friend, especially when he was a married man but how could you resist? Joel Miller did nothing to help your cause.
He was polite, handsome and always walked around like he oozed confidence and could do whatever he wanted and no one would bat an eyelid. His smile was enough to have you clenching your thighs during family meals and your fingers stuffed deep in your pussy the very same night as you dreamed of what else that mouth could do. It was a long, tortuous, heavenly roundabout that you were stuck on and frankly, you didn’t want to get off.
What did you do in a previous life to deserve this? Why couldn’t you have met Joel in another life? A life where Joel and your dad didn’t meet every Saturday night to play card games and drink beer whilst discussing the latest game. A life where your mother and Joel’s wife, Charlotte, didn’t have spa nights and drink cheap fruity wine they got from the local store. You deserved more, you deserved better, you deserved Joel.
You have been so good. You’d resisted him for years. You’d perfected your best, fake smile during every anniversary dinner, congratulated them as they announced the renewal of their vows, you’d helped his wife pick out her wedding dress alongside your mother, you’d done everything you were meant to do. When was it your turn?
“What you thinkin’ bout, girl?”
You dragged your eyes away from the kitchen window and over to Joel who stood in the doorway, halfway to the fridge before he stopped. How long had you been staring out the window at him? You had only come in here to check on your laundry, how long ago was that? Were you going crazy?
“Nothin’, Joel,” you said softly, quickly glancing down at the dryer, only a few minutes left. “You and my dad havin’ a good time?”
You nodded out the window and towards the car that Joel and your dad had been working on for almost six months now, they never seemed to get any further with their latest mechanical mission. On the lawn next to the drive sat your mother and Charlotte, both of them engrossed in conversation as they sipped on lemonade whilst basking in the Austin summer heat. You didn’t hate Charlotte exactly but you envied her and you didn’t know what was worse. You envied her pretty flowery dresses and long curled hair that always look elegant, her fingernails which were always painted a pretty light blue colour and perfectly maintained, envied the fact she slept next to Joel every night and probably didn’t realise how lucky she was. God, maybe you did hate her.
“Be havin’ a damn better time when I don’t have to look at that car again, swear your dad buys the stupidest shit going,” he scoffed before opening the fridge and pulling out two beers, eyeing up the cheap brand your father had purchased. Joel then turned towards you, “Looks like something’s on your mind - “ he paused before the slight graze of a smirk morphed on his luscious face. “Or someone?”
It was your turn to scoff, only yours came out uncomfortably loud. “N’ what’s that meant to mean?”
“C’mon, charmin’ girl like you must have someone by now,” Joel questioned, an eyebrow arched as he stared over at you. Was he moving closer to you? No, it was your imagination. “Not seen ya’ with anyone since that lil boy you had back when you were twenty, what a fool he turned out to be.”
Yeah, a fool indeed. What a waste of time he turned out to be.
“Tell me about it.”
“Nobody then?” Joel was definitely closer. Could your laundry please hurry up?
You took a quick look at him briefly before smiling and shaking your head. You turned back towards the window, your back to him now. “We all ain’t lucky to be loved up like you, Joel. Boys my age, well…”
“What’s wrong with 'em’, sweetheart? That guy turned you off men completely, huh?”
“Well, they just ain’t my type, Mr. Miller…” You trailed off, you hadn’t called him that in many years. “I like men that are a bit older, ya know?”
As soon as you finished your sentence, you felt Joel's presence behind you.
This is what happened between the two of you. Nothing out of turn was ever said but there was a tension, an indescribable sends-you-crazy in the middle of the night, tension. You were adamant it was just you being delusional. You were twenty-years younger than Joel, he would never have any interest in you that way. Plus, your parents were his best friends. Oh, and he was married.
Were you some infatuated young woman who just couldn’t stop fantasising about her dad’s hot best friend? This was more than a fantasy though, this had been going on years. You’d spent endless nights with your hand tucked in between your thighs as you thought dirty things about him. Had mastered every excuse going as to why you couldn’t attend any of the Miller’s functions that Charlotte insisted on throwing.
“Older?” Joel leaned across you to grab the bottle opener. Of all the places for your father to have left it, why did you have to be in front of it? You got a whiff of his aftershave and almost fell to your knees there. “What makes you like older men so much, huh?”
“Just somethin’ about them, somethin’ special, somethin’ that makes me feel a lil’ bit naughty, you know?” What were you doing? Words came out of your mouth before you could even process what you were going to say. Joel being behind you, his arm brushing past your waist as he brought the bottle opener towards him. It was all too much, you couldn’t stop rambling but he looked so good, black t-shirt so tight and jeans fitting in all the right places. Did she tell him how good he looked all the time? “They got more experience, more knowledge, and know how to treat a lady right. Boys my age, they don’t know what they doin’. Boys at college showed me that, that’s why i’m wantin’ an older man, ya know? Want someone who ain’t gonna mess me around or throw me to side when someone prettier comes along.”
“These city boys stupid if they throwin’ you to the side baby,” Joel purred, his breath hot on your neck. He looked down at you from where he stood, trying his hardest not to stare down your shirt. You always made it so difficult for him. “You have many boys in college?”
Joel moved to your side and faced away from the window. He stared straight ahead as he placed one of the beer bottles down and brought the other to his lips. You stared directly at his wife as you tried not to imagine her husband bending you over the counter, dropping to his knees and using his mouth to eat your pussy from the back. She had no idea as she giggled alongside your mother, had no idea of the thoughts that had ruined your brain since hormones came to play.
“They wanted me, I didn’t always give them the same attention back.”
You took a step back at the sound of the dryer beeping, finally. You grabbed the washing basket you had discarded to the side and lowered yourself to both knees as you emptied your load of dry, clean washing into it. Maybe this wasn’t the best position to be in considering you only had to glance slightly to your right and make eye contact with Joel’s bulge. You weren't straining your back for no-one though.
You felt your heart drop as Joel crouched down to your level besides you. The two of you were no longer in view of the window, nor the front door if anyone was to walk in. This felt wildly inappropriate, you loved it. You just silently prayed that Joel felt the same gravitational pull as you did.
It all seemed different. You’d had these conversations before, sometimes there had been flirtatious comments but Joel was a tease, could flirt with a lamp post if he really tried hard enough. There was something about the way he was looking at you now, almost as if there was resistance there. Like he was trying to resist you.
“Older men won’t always treat you well,” he rasped, training his eyes to stay level with yours and not fall below your neckline. Your little white tank top doing nothing to hide your chest, it seemed you had skipped wearing anything underneath. Such a tease, he thought. “Young pretty thing like you wanting a bit of them? C’mon now, you can’t handle no-one your own age, let alone someone twenty years older than you.”
There was a taunting smile on his face. Your heart began to thump under the thin material of your vest as you looked at him, not paying attention to the clothing in your hands. His head tilted to the side slightly as he eyed you up, waiting for you to respond.
“You are twenty years older than me,” you whispered out loud before you could stop yourself. “Do you think I couldn’t handle ya?”
Joel shook his head and sniggered slightly. “I know you couldn’t handle me baby, ain’t no shame in that.”
“Why don’t you give me the chance to prove you - “
“I’ll have these.” The words were spoken and an item of clothing was stolen from your hands before you could finish your sentence . You suddenly felt tiny as Joel stood up. You looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open as you watched him hold your pink, lace panties in his hand. “I’d prefer them used but this will do.” You kneeled with your mouth open, unable to make any argument back. Joel looked down at you before he bent over slightly to grab your jaw. You whimpered pathetically at the action and a wide shit-eating grin was on Joel’s within seconds of you making the sound. “Goodbye sweet girl.”
“Joel - “
“Goodbye sweet girl,” he repeated sternly, his eyes lingering on yours as he stood up straight and walked out of the kitchen, your panties stuffed in his back pocket and both bottles of beer in his hands.
----
You were a fool. A big fool.
As soon as Joel had gone, you were running upstairs into your room where you slammed the door shut and threw yourself down on the bed. It had never gone that far before. He’d taken your panties - your favourite but you’d let that slide. Your mind was clogged with thoughts of him with your panties wrapped around his cock as he edged himself over and over again. His hand pressed against the locked door of the bathroom he shared with his wife. He wouldn’t be thinking about her though, no, his mind would be flooded with filthy images of you doing the stuff his wife wouldn’t do for him, you bent over wherever he wanted, his cock stuffed wherever he wanted, your mouth wide open and pussy sopping for him. You wanted them back, covered in his cum and filth, his scent embedded in the material. He was making you feral, the panties you were currently wearing already so soaked.
He wanted them used? Well, he’d get them used.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, your right index and middle finger slowly massaging your clit.
It was the same routine almost nightly. The moment your fingers touched your clit, dirty thoughts of Joel would arise in your brain. You wanted every inch of him, wanted his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your clit rather than your own, wanted his tongue lapping you up as he slowly slipped his large fingers inside of you, slowly but surely bringing you to the edge over and over and over again.
You felt restricted by the panties you were wearing but you needed them soaked. Needed Joel to have one smell of the fabric and go mad with lust, unable to control himself to the point he tugs his cock out wherever he is and strokes and strokes until he’s coming so hard that the only thing he can purr is your name over and over again. You were so mad for this man, you needed him to be the same back.
This is what you were put on this planet for. You were made to make Joel miller go crazy at the scent of a younger woman.
You rubbed your clit harder as you arched your back, mumbling his name repeatedly until it was the only thing you could do. Your legs spread wider as your eyes fluttered open and shut, the room blurring as you felt the pressure grow in your lower abdomen.
You always came quick when you thought of Joel but this, this was humiliating.
As your orgasm washed through you, all you could do was concentrate on Joel’s voice. I know you couldn’t handle me, baby. You could, you knew you could. You could hear the disgustingly beautiful words that he would speak to you as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, the delicious stretch as he split you open and opened your legs wider than you ever could yourself.
“Oh fuck, Joel, Joel - “ you stuttered shakily, your orgasm sending shockwaves through your body. You tightened your legs around your hand that was still rubbing your clit and your back arched off the bed, the sound of his name on the tip of your tongue as you slowly came down.
You needed him. You were going to have him.
You spent the next few moments trying to gather your thoughts and talk yourself out of making a bad decision. This could ruin your life and your relationship with your parents but most importantly, it could ruin everything with Joel. Not just the sexual stuff either. Being able to have someone to call in the middle of the night when you were stranded at a party and too frightened to call your mother, the memory of having your first sip of alcohol with Joel when you were eighteen, the way that he would smile sweetly to you whenever he saw you unloading groceries from your mothers car. It would all be ruined, gone. A new, uncertain, dangerous territory would arise and you would be stuck there, unable to go back on what you have done. But you wanted this more than anything, had dreamed about this endless time. If you could only have him for one night, then one night it would be.
Before you could talk yourself out of anything, you jumped off the bed and ignored the pulsing feeling in your pussy. You reached over to the freshly washed laundry and grabbed a hoodie and a pair of leggings. As tempting as it was to walk down the stairs in nothing but your soaked underwear and an oversized t-shirt, have Joel peel them from your body before taking you over to the dining room table and fucking you, you had to have some class about you.
The sound of your parents and Charlotte could be heard from your bedroom, they must have come in at some point but you were sure they hadn’t heard you. You listened out for Joel’s voice or laughter but heard nothing.. A part of you hoped he’d rushed off home to fuck himself with your panties. You bounded down the stairs with a skip in your step, excited for what was to come.
“Where’s Joel?” you asked as you came into the kitchen, voice laced with fake innocence as you smiled sweetly at the three of them around the dining room table. Your used panties hidden in the pocket of your hoodie.
“Garage,” Charlotte answered. “Everything okay? Anything I can help you with?”
Absolutely not.
“Yeah, I just need to ask him something about Sarah.”
“Before you go,” your mother started, stopping you as you made a rush for the front door. She showed you her laptop screen, a stunning spa resort on the screen. Nice. “Me and Charlotte were thinking about booking a weekend away at the end of summer, are you interested in coming?”
“You really should,” Charlotte answered, not giving you a chance to oppose the situation. “I could always see if Sarah is free to come along with us so you’re not stuck with us the whole time.”
You shrugged your shoulders and glanced towards the garage door through the kitchen window. Could you really be in close proximity to Charlotte for a full weekend? Especially considering what you were about to do.
“I’ll think about it,” you answered with a smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy them. “Anyways, bye.”
You rushed out the front door and over to the garage before they could say anything else. As you reached the door, you caught a glimpse of Joel around the corner, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him. He was so pretty, years of labour engrained on his face but he wore it so well. His hair was messy after spending hours running his fingers through it, most likely at annoyance towards your father for buying another car that didn’t run. His beard was unruly and all you could picture was the feeling of the coarse hair running along the inside of your thighs and leaving red marks in its wake.
You coughed loudly and caught his attention. He turned around slowly, already trying to fight an erection at the sight of you and a seductive smile. “I want my panties back, Joel,” you began. You wanted to move closer, run your hand up his chest and grab the curls at the back of his neck but you maintain your dignity, for now. “They’re my favourite pair.”
Joel tutted and shook his head.“Not happenin’, darlin. They are mine now.” He threw the rag he had in his hand on the work bench behind him, eyes not leaving yours for even the briefest of seconds.
“But what if I give you something better?” You slowly stalked over to Joel and pressed your body up close towards him and fought the urge to not stare up at him. “Somethin’ so much better.”
Joel watched with hooded eyes as you reached in between your bodies, your hand accidentally grazing his lower belly. He took in a deep breath and clenched his fists. He was struggling as much as you and you loved every moment.
“You filthy girl,” Joel chuckled darkly, the sight of your panties having his cock rock hard against the rough denim material of his jeans. He was fucked. He took them from your hand and admired them with a glimmer of humour in his eyes but there was something darker there, almost worrying. He fondled with the material, his rough finger moving along the crotch and he audibly moaned when he felt the wetness. “These are still wet, baby. What you been doin’ up those stairs, huh?”
You tilted your head to the side and grinned. “You wanna’ know?” You asked, so sweet and sexy that the way you spoke went straight to Joel’s cock. You ran your hand up Joel’s chest and over his neck before pressing the two fingers you’d used to get yourself off against his plump lips. “You can have a taste if you wanna’.”
“Pretty girl - “ he purred, unable to finish his sentence as you pressed your fingers into his mouth. “Dirty girl,” he finished, his mouth enclosing around your fingers as he took in the faint taste of your previous orgasm. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place whilst he stared down at you with a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. He popped your fingers out of his mouth, “Always knew you were a fuckin’ slut for me.”
You stood up on your tippy-toes as you attempted to capture Joel’s mouth with your own but he pushed you back, enough to make you stumble back into the bonnet of the car that Joel and your father had been working on.
“Please, Joel,” you whimpered, sounding more pathetic than you normally did when you were around him - you wanted something to happen when you passed him your wet panties but this, well this was something else. You watched him as he walked over to you, an internal battle playing out in his head but he knew which side of him would win. You reached out for him as he got closer but he gently slapped your hands away. “I’m not a slut, i - “
“Ya think I don’t notice the way you suddenly become a slut whenever I’m around? How I’ll walk into your house and you’ll be dressed in jeans and a shirt and within five minutes, suddenly you’ve got on them lil’ pyjama shorts with the frills on the bottom and an even littler tank top that you should be fuckin’ ashamed to be wearing around your parents,” he spat. He stood directly in front of you, one large hand reaching out to lay flat against your stomach as he pushed you further against the bonnet until you were practically laid flat against it, your elbows the only thing keeping you slightly sat up. “But you ain’t ashamed. You fuckin’ love it. Love knowing that my cock’s damn near bustin’ out my jeans all night, don’t ya?”
“I didn’t know, Joel - “ You knew.
“Didn’t know? See, you’re a liar as well as fuckin’ slut. You think you deserve my cock?”
“Yes, please,” you moaned loudly without any shame. No concern for the three people not that fat from you. You were fucked if anyone was to come into the garden. Due to the placement of the work bench, you were thankfully out of sight of the house.
“Why?” he asked, his hand running up and down your stomach delicately.
“I’ve been so patient, Joel. It’s been torture, knowin’ you going back to her and fuckin’ her when it should be me you fuckin’,” you cried out, your eyes watering with desperation. “Don’t you think I deserve ya cock? I’ve been good, I promise. I gave ya’ my used panties. Made myself come whilst wearin’ them, just for you, thought of you, I promise.”
Before you could begin to process your actions, you grabbed Joel’s hand and moved it further down so it was situated in between your thighs. You had ‘forgotten’ panties and with your previous encounter with Joel, your orgasm and this current situation, you were dripping all the way down to the seam of your leggings.
“Can you feel it, Joel?” you asked, voice soft and quiet. “Can ya’ feel how wet I am for you?”
Joel moaned lowly as he slowly moved his fingers along your clothed pussy, the material from the leggings adding an extra layer of pleasure. You were already so sensitive still from your previous orgasm but you weren't going to back out of this.
“I feel it, baby,” he grunted. “Fuck, ya’ so beautiful, so wet, I ain’t got no choice but to fuck ya’, have I?” Removing his hand, Joel placed both of his hands on each side of your inner thigh and split your legs apart so you were fully spread out for him. The action caused you to fall flat onto your back and you attempted to open your legs even wider for him. “That’s it, good girl.”
Joel took one large step until he was situated between your thighs. His hands reached up to grab your waist and he moved your body down until you were pressed against his bulge, his hard cock pressing directly onto your clothed pussy. His hands tightened around you as he slowly rubbed his cock against you, his eyes fluttering shut with ecstasy.
Joel felt so wrong. If someone was to walk into the garage and see the scene in front of them then Joel would be leaving yours with a black eye but how was he able to resist such a beautiful woman who was equally as desperate as him? He’d tried so hard to resist you, spent the last few years trying to purposely avoid you but there were times when he couldn’t, and he couldn’t even count the amount of times on one hand that he had to rush off to your parent’s bathroom and stroke his cock until he finally saw sense. This was his best friend's daughter, this was you. Not some random girl in a club that just wanted a quick fuck. This was quiet, pretty, sweet you. He didn’t even want to think about his wife who was blissfully unaware of his sinful thoughts, especially didn’t want to think about her when your hips were moving and creating more pressure on his cock.
“Want more, Joel,” you whispered, eyes shut as you continued to grind along his cock. You definitely looked a mess but Joel didn’t seem to care, not when his hands left your waist and he let you take control. “Cock feels so big, bet it feels even bigger deep inside of me.”
Within seconds, you were flung around so you were now bent over the bonnet, your legs dangling over the edge. Joel’s hands were on your waist again as dragged you back so your back was perfectly arched for him and arse up in the air for him to admire. His cock pressed against you as he shamelessly rutted his hips into you, allowing the sensation to go straight to his cock - and head.
“Pretty fuckin girl’, told you earlier that you wouldn’t be able to handle my cock,” he moaned, one hand moving down to squeeze the flesh of your ass. There was nothing delicate about the touch, you didn’t mind. “But like I said, gonna have to fuck ya’, aren’t I? Wouldn't be fair of me to let you carry on like this, so desperate and horny for an old man’s cock that you gotta’ stuff your fingers inside your pussy every goddamn time I’ve been in the same room as ya’.”
You’ve never seen Joel this desperate, all fury and hormones as he rubbed himself against your ass, almost as if you weren't there. You could do nothing but grind your hips up against him, waiting and anticipating and his animalistic nature took over. He messily fucked his cock against you, whispering sweet nothings out loud as the usual authoritative Joel slips away. His eyebrows dipped as his orgasm approached and suddenly, he felt like an eighteen year old boy again. He was no better than those college boys you bitched about. He wasn’t going to come in his pants at the feeling of your ass pressed against his cock and he certainly wasn’t going to sit next to his wife on the drive home and pretend that he didn’t just get himself off using your body.
“No, no, no, where you goin’, Joel?” you whimpered as you felt the loss of his body against yours. You turned your head around and reached for him, only for him to shake his head as a warning. If you touched him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Want you to come, need you to come, please, I’m so desperate, please. Can fuck my throat, please - “
“Shut up,” Joel snapped, taking a few steps back as he eyed you down like you were his prey. “If I only get to fuck you once, then it ain’t being like this, you understand? Plus baby, your parent’s are in the house, my fuckin’ wife is in the house. Need to be careful if we gonna’ do this, shouldn’t even be doin’ it but fuck, you right girl, you waited long enough, ain’t ya’?”
You nodded pathetically as you stood up straight. “So long.” You were no longer the woman that walked into the garage and made Joel suck on her fingers. You were weak, desperate and a horny pathetic mess. Frankly, you didn’t care slightly about the people inside the house, not when you could see how hard his cock was.
“I need to go by my office tonight and pick up some paperwork.” Joel stated, not looking anywhere else but at you. His cock was throbbing in his briefs, begging to be released and forced inside your tight, warm pussy but Joel needed to wait. He couldn’t do this here - couldn’t risk his wife or your parent’s walking in despite how badly he wanted to bend you over the stupid car. “You’ll be there, won’t ya’?”
Again, you nodded pathetically. “I’ll be there.”
“Wear a pretty dress, or skirt, yeah?” The sound of Charlotte's voice reached both of you at the same time and you took note of the way Joel grimaced - he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He was already counting down the hours until he could help you get over your need for his cock. “No panties either and I’m keeping these.”
----
When you had woken up that morning, you hadn’t expected that this is where you would be but here you were, standing outside Joel’s office feeling like nothing but an idiot. You looked down at the dress you’d put on just for him, a pretty pink off-the-shoulder flowery summer dress, you looked cute, irresistible.
You stepped inside, knowing the way to go from your previous visits with your father. Those times had been innocent, you’d sat in Joel’s office whilst him and your dad discussed whatever business they needed to talk about. This time was different. You felt so anxious as you approached the office door - not bothering to knock as it was already slightly open. You had a plan to open the door slowly and say something that would have him dragging you over to the desk but you didn’t get a chance. Before you could say anything, his voice was ringing through the room.
“Take your dress off for me.”
You stood still in the doorway to his shared office with Tommy as silence occupied the room you were in. Not even a hello, straight to the point. Joel faced away from you as he flicked through some paperwork that was untidily placed over the desk, could he feel how desperate you were for him?
“What if I say no?” you fire back, your tone of voice playful.
Despite your voice showing some confidence, you could feel yourself getting smaller under the harsh gaze of Joel as he turned back to look at you briefly. The glance only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to let you know he wasn’t down to play your games anymore. Joel turned back towards the paperwork and sighed loudly enough for you to hear it from the other side of the room. Was his cock aching at the thought of having you?
“Ya’ think you’re so cute, don’t you?” Joel asked rhetorically. “Did you listen to what I said earlier on? Did you wear your panties or nah?”
You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I listened to what you said, Joel. Behaved myself. I’m not wearing anything underneath this dress.”
“So do as you're told and take that dress off before I have to come over there and do something about it, understood?” Tempting. You watched as Joel strolled casually over to a sofa besides his desk. He looked at you properly for the first time and his cock hardened at the sight of you. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.”
“I know,” you said softly with a shrug of your shoulders. “But I kinda’ don’t care.”
Joel stifled a laugh. “Me neither, baby.” He raised one eyebrow and nodded towards your dress, encouraging you to finally free yourself of the loose clothing which felt like it was stuck to your body.
Standing at a distance from Joel, you allowed the dress to slip from your body until it fell lightly to the floor. You were completely naked for him, body bare and on show. Goosebumps arose on your skin as you watched him take every inch of you in, his eyes slowly trailing over your collarbones, down to your breasts where the nipples had peaked due to the cool air, down your soft belly which was gagging to be covered in his kisses, and finally your pussy. If he was any closer, he would be able to see the glistening in between your legs.
“You think she’s ready for me?”
“She?” you asked with a confused expression etched onto your face.
“Your pussy, baby,” Joel cooed, his voice soft and loving. “God, you can be so innocent when you wanna’ be. Come over here, wanna see all of you.”
You gulped as you walked over to him slowly, suddenly feeling anxious at the feeling of his eyes roaming over your body. He looked so hungry for you with his right hand rubbing against the growing bulge in his jeans. So pretty, you thought to yourself.
When you finally stood in front of him, you looked everywhere but down at the fact that had ruined your dreams since you could remember. Maybe this was wrong but it felt so right at the moment.
“I can see she’s ready, she’s so wet for me already,” Joel said, his large palms coming to lay on the back of your thighs. You shuffled forward slightly until his face was in direct view with your soft belly. Joel leaned slightly forward and placed one chaste kiss directly above your belly button. As you looked down, Joel looked up and the two of you were silent for a brief moment, just staring at each other and waiting for one to back out but when neither of you spoke out against what you were about to do, Joel continued on. “When we got this office, Tommy brought some dumb shit for it. Told him we’d never need a sofa in here but I’m starting to think that maybe it wasn’t a bad purchase at all.”
“Why’s that, Joel?”
“Because imma’ eat your pussy on it.” He said the words so casually that you almost fell to your knees there. “Bet you’d look so pretty with your thighs on either side of my face.”
“Joel,” you hummed, hands automatically coming out to thread in his thick hair. A soft moan came through Joel at the action.
“What do you want, pretty girl?”
“Please.”
Joel gracefully pulled you down so you were straddling his lap, his large hands roaming along the skin on your back as he admired you. “So beautiful,” he mumbled, mouth pressed along the base of your neck. “Wanna mark you up so bad. Fuck if you were ten years older, not my bestfriends daughter and I weren’t married, I’d do such bad things to you, fuck you full of my cum till I was leaking outta’ ya’ for days.”
“Can’t, I wish you could, more than you’ll ever know,” you whined, fingers gripping his head as the flurry of kisses along your neck went straight to the fire in your loins. “But you can do what ya’ said before.”
“Tell me what you want me to do, wanna’ hear them dirty words come from that sweet mouth of yours.”
“Want you to eat my pussy, Joel. Please.”
Joel grunted before taking a hold of your body and shuffling you around on the sofa until he was laid flat and you were straddling his waist. Joel looked as desperate as you as he thrusted his hips up, shuffling you slightly along his body.
“Come on then, I’m waiting for her. Been waitin’ on her for far too long.”
Joel grinned widely, excited at the prospect of having his best friend's daughter come all over his tongue. Joel was obviously lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about this before but they were just taboo thoughts that he had, nothing serious, everyone fantasised, right? He almost felt ashamed when he left your parents house only hours before, cock still hard and leaking in his boxers as he pictured you spread across your fathers car. He tried to make conversation with Charlotte on the way back home but it was physically impossible, his mind clouded with the memory of you bent over your dads precious project with your ass in the air, basically inviting him in. But he felt no shame now. Not with you, straddling him and looking down at him with an anxious, but compliant, smile on your face - he was completely and utterly fucked.
“Happily, Mr. Miller.”
You sensually moved your body further up his, pausing briefly to place your thumb against Joel’s mouth. You dragged his bottom lip down as you smiled down at him sweetly, the memories of your fingers in Joel’s mouth as he sucked them clean had you throbbing onto his t-shirt, sure to leave a stain in its wake. Before you could go any further, Joel gently wrapped a hand around your wrist.
“Up here, now. You know what to do, doll.”
Smiling, you placed both of your hands against the arm of the sofa that was behind Joel’s head and lifted your body up so that you could move until you were hovering above his face. You’d never done this before. Sure, you’d had someone go down on you but never like this, never so intimate and never whilst you had been this wet. Joel was in no rush though as you hesitated above him. He would never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do and he understood that you were most likely nervous - you was fucking your father’s best friend after all. The sight he had wasn’t too bad either, your pussy soaking and dripping just for him. So close to his mouth. After some hesitation, Joel came to the conclusion that he couldn’t look at your sweet cunt for any longer and do nothing about it.
Both of his strong hands gripped onto your thighs as he brought you down to his face and delved in, a moan coming from both of you as his tongue immediately started to lick along your clit in a teasing manner. You lurched forward at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sofa with a tighter grip.
“Oh, that feels so good,” you cried out, one hand leaving the sofa to grab his locks. “Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop.”
Joel wrapped his mouth around your clit as he gently moved his head from side-to-side, he would keep you on top of his face for the rest of his life if it was possible. You looked down at the sight of him, so beautiful and sensual that you couldn’t help but moan just from that. Your thighs squeezed against the side of his face as you felt yourself relax into him, allowing yourself the chance to roll your hips and meet the stroke of his tongue. His hands grabbed both of your thighs as a sign of encouragement.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he purred before placing small flicks against your clits, starting slowly but becoming more distressed as your moans became louder and more frequent. “She’s so fuckin pretty, girl. Such a pretty pussy, so wet and all for me.”
“For you, Joel,” you breathed out as your eyes squeezed shut and you stuttered forwards. Joel’s actions were becoming more ferocious on your cunt, his tongue having no limits as he continuously brought you to the edge.
You could barely speak, only the filthiest of moans coming from your timid body as you continued to grind along Joel’s face. Worries about harming him were gone, all you could focus on was the unmeasurable amount of pleasure that he was bringing you. If his tongue alone could do this, what could his cock do?
Joel didn’t need to hear you speak though. The moans and whimpers that blessed his ears was enough to tell him everything that he needed to know. You were gone when it came to him, would allow him to do whatever he wanted and just the feel of his cock against your ass and his tongue on your clit had done that to you. He wanted to ruin you so bad it almost hurt him.
As you looked down at Joel again, your eyes flickering open for the briefest of moments, you noticed the cockiness that glimmered behind his eyes.
“I’d do this every day of my life if I could,” he said as he lifted you up briefly. You whimpered at the loss of contact but also at the sight of him. His face glistened with your wetness, his beard drenched and lips swollen as he stared up at you. Darkness had clouded his eyes.
You can. You can. You can. You wanted to scream at him. But he couldn’t. He was married.
“Just shut up,” you mewled before reaching down, grabbing his hair and planting yourself firmly on his face. An animalistic growl came from Joel as he returned his heavenly lips to your core. His moans and whimpers vibrated against your clit as you tugged harder on his hair with every action of his tongue.
You found a rhythm that had Joel’s eyes slightly widening but he didn’t once stop as you rode his face, his tongue and lips drinking in every drop you released. His tongue went from moving leisurely swirls along your clit to rough, mixing the rhythm up and having you yearning for more.
His cock was so hard it was painful. He wanted nothing more but to flip you over and fuck you from the back, have you keening and arching your back for him as you screamed his name over and over again, legs shaking and orgasm so strong you black out but he needed this just as much. Wanted to have you flood his mouth with your arousal, he needed to struggle to breath as you put all your weight on his face and took what you needed, deserved.
Your head was thrown back as you chanted his name like a prayer, your voice becoming embarrassingly higher. Small flicks that he left against your clit were becoming more distressed and the thrust of your hips was almost making it hard for Joel to breath but he would die happily if it meant dying in between your legs with his tongue pressing against your enterance.
“I’m so close,” you whimpered out loud, your cunt clenching around his tongue as he behaved like a frenzied woman between your thighs. His tongue was everywhere all at once and you could feel yourself start to build up, the excitement of the release making you tug on his hair harder as fucked yourself harder on his face.
Joel pulled back for air, his breath laboured and eyes glossy. He gave himself a few seconds to collect himself as you made stared at each other, both so fucked out your brains it was ridiculous.
“You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna coat my face?” Joel asked, his words broken up due to being unable to tear his mouth away from your clit for more than a few seconds. “Answer me baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel - “ Joel cut himself off with a long, drawn-out moan as your hands returned back to his hair. “Keep tugging my hair.”
Tugging harder and putting most of your weight onto Joel’s face was the only response you could give him. Your moans and whimpers matched Joel’s as he continued his tortuous assault on your cunt and you weaved your fingers throughout his hair, your fingernails digging slightly into his scalp causing a delicious burn.
The burn in your lower stomach grew stronger with every movement of Joel’s tongue and your legs started to shake around his head. “Come, pretty girl,” he growled against your clit. “Come so hard on my tongue I can taste you for days.”
You dissolved into pleasure as you felt your orgasm rush through your body, every part of you in utter bliss as lowly moaned out Joel’s name. His own cries of pleasures were adding to the orgasm, the vibrations rippling through you. His hands grabbed you tighter as he held you down, surely not able to breathe but frankly, not caring in the slightest. This was heaven to him. Being able to feel your thighs shake and stutter, your whole body clench up and the taste of your wetness gushing out of you and onto his tongue, drinking up every inch of you like he was a man dying - he was done for. This was perfection. This is what he had been craving for so long.
It felt as if everything had stopped as you gently moved your cunt across his mouth, the last of your orgasm sizzling out. You attempted to move off Joel and give him a chance to catch a breath but he pulled you back down, using his tongue to clean up the evidence of your orgasm. It was only when the pleasure became too much that you pulled him back with another pull of his hair, earning an almost silent whimper from him.
“You did so well, baby,” he whispered as he moved you down to his lap and sat himself up. Joel’s hand moved to your face as he brushed some of the hair out of the way. You looked so good, so blissful and angelic. He looked even better though, completely fucked out as he tried to labour his breathing.
You nodded slowly and pressed your forehead against his. “So good. Thank you, thank you so much.”
Joel gulped and hesitated before speaking, “We can do this again,” he started, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. This was so wildly inappropriate but how was he meant to resist you after you’d just sat on his face and ridden him to high heavens? His heart clenched at the hopeful smile on your face. “Our secret though, baby. Can’t tell no-one, ya’ get that?”
“Our secret.” You leaned back on Joel’s lap, expecting to feel his hard cock pressing into your sensitive core but instead, you just felt his soft bulge and a hint of disappointment hit you. “You not get hard for me, Joel?” you asked sadly.
There was a devilish smile on his face as he watched you shuffle back until you rested on his lower thighs, your eyebrows pressed together. You undid the buttons of his jeans and slid your hand inside of his briefs so you could cup his bulge - he had wanted you so bad before, what had happened?
Joel continued to watch you with a smile as your mouth formed into the perfect ‘o’ shape at the realisation of what had happened.
“For me?” you asked sweetly as you removed your hand from Joel’s boxers, the remnants of his come on your finger tips.
“For you,” he answered with a faint blush to his cheeks. “Made me come untouched, girl. All from those pretty fuckin’ hands of yours in my hair and the way you rode my face…” he trailed off and grabbed your ass, pulling you against him. “Suck ya’fingers baby, taste me.”
You did as told, maintaining eye contact as you slipped your digits into your mouth and tasted him on your tongue. Fuck, he was delicious.
“Funny,” you moaned around your fingers before letting them pop out your mouth. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Joel’s mouth, ignoring his look of confusion. “Told me I couldn’t handle an older man but it looks to me like you can’t handle a bit of younger pussy.”
Joel chuckled as his fingers started to trail along the inside of your thigh. “I’m not finished with you yet, darlin’. Fuck, I ain’t even started yet.”
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us smut#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#ok imma go eat my lasagna now
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a/n: The premiere look was a literal gift from the Gods, truly fantastic stuff. With that said, of course I had to work on the next chapter of The General and his Girlwife. This isn't the end for them, there is still so much life for them and I have a whole inbox full of amazing asks (I promise I haven't forgotten about them!) to get through, and I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! Hope you enjoy 💕xo
Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus eats pussy because he's a KING, lactation kink, creampie, Marcus gets emotional, pregnancy and baby stuff, childbirth and some graphic descriptions of pain, talks of infertility, **FEELINGS** let me know if I missed any!
This is the fic I referenced in this preview
Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader
word count: 5k (whoops!)
reblogs are appreciated
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The ritual had been completed, and a week later–life had gone back to normal. The two of you had vowed to put it out of your mind until the Gods made their intentions for you clear.
Marcus, however, was leaving; he'd been called on by the Emperor for a tour, and he had no choice but to accept.
You pouted, and he smiled.
“It is only for a short time, my love. Barely a moon's turn and I will be back in this house, and your arms.” He smiled despite your obvious displeasure, giddy with the way you clutched so greedily at him.
“I wish to follow you Marcus, I do not wish to stay here without you.” You buried your face into his neck, taking in his comforting scent greedily. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding him close while his own wrapped tightly around your waist.
“And I wish nothing more than for you to be with me, but you cannot. It is not a place for women and I would not have my beautiful,” his hands cupped your cheeks, pressing kisses to your mouth between words, “lovely, tempting wife there pulling at my attention, as well as that of the bolder men in my company.”
You sigh, knowing he would not change his mind.
“Very well. I will content myself alone.” Your tone made him laugh, and you smiled into his skin, well aware that you sounded more akin to an unruly child than a grown, married woman.
“You are spoiled, terribly misbehaved and spoiled.” His hands slipped down and grabbed at your backside, “and it is entirely my fault.”
“Yes it is.” You jut your chin out and he pressed a kiss to it. “When do you leave?”
“Preparations are being made and I depart in three days time.” He pressed another kiss to the back of your hand, smiling as he led you to sit with him. “Once I am back, I shall plan something for us. How does that sound?”
“And what shall you plan?”
“We could travel, we could go to the sea and take in the fresh air, we could do anything my love. Whatever makes you happy.” His eyes shone with the same love you felt in your very bones for him.
“I only need you for that.”
-
The intensity of the craving made you frown, pulling your attention from the task of refilling the cellars of your house. One minute you had been taking note of how much grain there was, how much olive oil and wine was in your stores and the next, the desire for figs and honey and fresh, ripe pomegranate was so strong it almost moved your feet towards the kitchens. You stopped yourself though, running through your mental tally of days since your last blood and willing yourself to stay calm.
“Girl, be a dear and fetch me figs and honey if you would.” You pat her hand softly, unable to stop yourself from softening the imagined blow of asking for something instead of fetching it yourself. Her eyes widened for a moment, before nodding.
“Yes Domina.” She ran off, and you ignored the looks of the women who were helping you with your accounts.
“Shall we call for a Medicus, Domina?” The eldest of them whispered in your ear, one who has always treated you with a softness that at times felt motherly, her work roughened hand landing soft on your shoulder. Nerves fluttered in your belly, a deep seeded fear threading through your very being as the memory of your loss filled your mind's eye so vividly it set your hands to shaking. But another emotion emerged, a fragile thing coloured with a hope so big it didn’t fit within your body. Without Marcus, it was difficult to navigate the swirl of different feelings fighting for dominance.
“Domina, let me call for the Medicus.” Gently, she guided you to sit, silently dismissing the staff tending to you. “I think it best you rest while we wait, I shall have him brought here to look you over.”
“Yes, yes that is what we must do. I—yes I should rest a while.” With a shaky breath you smiled a smile that did not reach your eyes, and headed towards your chamber.
When the medicus finally did arrive, the older woman held your hand, doing much to calm you in the absence of Marcus. Silently the man went about his business, checking and prodding and looking for the signs that you tentatively prayed were there.
When he raised his head and smiled with a nod, both you and the woman cried with joy.
-
He was eager to step foot in his house, eager to be reunited with his heart.
His blessedly peaceful campaign had gone well, the Emperor was in good spirits and for the first time in years, there was peace. He couldn’t wait to tell her how it had gone, couldn’t wait to press his kisses upon her skin.
The house was surprisingly quiet when he finally arrived, the guards were hushed, his usual attendants were nowhere to be seen and his love was not where he thought he’d find her.
When he reached their shared room things were stranger still, the gauzy linens were drawn across the windows, blocking out most of the sunlight. Incense was burning, and for a moment he feared she’d fallen ill while he’d been gone.
“My love? What is the matter?” She reclined in their bed, propped up on a nest or pillows, and her face lit up to see him. She was glowing, a soft sheen shining on her brow and for a moment he thought it might be a fever but she looked well, she looked beautiful.
“I am well Marcus, truly.” She beckoned to him, arms outstretched and he all but ran to her side, sitting close to hold her hands. “We have been blessed, my love, truly blessed.” Tears shone in her eyes, he frowned for a moment until she placed his hand on her belly, and then it felt like his heart would jump out of chest.
“You are sure?” He brought his face to her womb, pressing his lips to it while trying not to fall apart with joy. “Truly?”
“It has been confirmed, I am with child. You are to be a father, Marcus.” She shone with life, with vitality and was as beautiful as a Goddess, he couldn’t handle the joy in his heart. He wept into her belly, thanking the Gods, and praying for the health of the love of his life, and the child inside her.
-
Every single day of those first few weeks greeted you with fear.
Every free minute, every spare thought was filled with silent prayer, offerings were made to appease the Gods, you ate only the foods suggested by the Medicus. Marcus let you do nothing except rest, and take short, slow walks throughout the house. He was thorough with the instructions given to him, he rubbed the special oil onto the skin of your belly to help with the growth, he never left your side, he was gentle in all things.
Once you started to show, and the most dangerous period had passed, even you started to shed some of the fear. Hope, and joy filled the house and everyone shared in it. The women were eager to have a little one running around, Marcus grew more and more excited at the prospect and filled your house with things for the child. Toys and a special chair, robes and little tunics to dress them in.
“Have you thought of a name?” You asked him as he rubbed at your tired feet, easing the ache as your stomach seemed to grow before your very eyes.
“I have, but I haven’t really given any option much thought. It is best to wait until the child is born I think. And you? Is there a name you favour?”
“Well, a boy would definitely be named Marcus after you.” You smiled, imagining a miniature of him.
“And for a girl?”
“We could honour the Gods, name her Diana, I also think Aurelia is quite pretty, or Acacia and name her after her father.” Your smile grew, imagining a little darling with his soft waves, his square feet.
“Fine choices.” He smiled, moving to the other foot and you sighed, soothed by his touch.
“I will pray for a boy, to carry your name and carry on your legacy.” He shook his head.
“Give me a clever girl with your eyes, and your smile and I shall be happier than any other man alive.” He pressed a kiss to your shin. Tears sprung to your eyes, it was happening a lot of late, the baby made your emotions run rampant, his sweetness didn’t help.
“There there my love, no tears.” He soothed with gentle tone, well aware of your sensitivity, yet still as patient and loving as always.
“I cannot help it, the joy is overwhelming, the love for you, for this little being is too much to fit inside me.” You held your belly, tears falling to dampen the skin of your chest. He moved to sit beside you, and gathered you into his arms, once again soothing you beyond words could explain.
“I understand, I have been so blessed in this life it is difficult not to dwell and fear the worst. Let us just enjoy our good fortune, no more tears, it pains me to see you cry.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and you nodded silently, throat aching with emotion.
With a tenderness that only made the ache stronger, he kissed the tear stains on your skin, smiling softly. When he got to your mouth, it was a reassuring press, a silent promise to you and to the life growing inside. It helped, but your mood, your appetites changed like the winds these days and the tears turned to desire for him so fast it made your head spin.
Your tongue breached his mouth, corrupting the softness of his kiss and pulling a groan from somewhere in his chest. His hand pressed softly to your womb, while his mouth claimed yours in the softness of your shared bed.
“Marcus-” It came out half moaned, half pleading.
“Yes my love?” He breathed the words into the skin of your neck, his tongue mapping out the lines he liked to travel with his kisses, unsurprised at how quickly your passion for him was stirred with the child inside.
“Do you desire me? Do you wish for me to give you my cock?” Slowly, he exposed you, pulling the special tunic made to accommodate your belly off. The large swell, the heavy weight of your breasts, the swelling in your feet–all of the changes in your body had made you fear he would no longer find you desirable. He’d been quick to correct that assumption however.
With your lip caught between your teeth, you nodded.
Carefully, he turned you on your side, supporting the weight of your belly with pillows and linens before divesting himself of his own layers. The sight of him, skin golden and cock hardening turned your cunt to liquid. He smiled at the open desire on your face, positioning himself so he straddled the thigh resting on the bed, while lifting and holding the other, lining himself up at the mouth of your cunt.
“Are you comfortable?” Your heart swelled for a moment, smiling at him before nodding.
He took himself in hand, stroking a few times to bring himself to full mast before finally sinking in to the hilt.
“So wet.” He whispered almost to himself, eyes focused on the way your cunt swallowed his length whole, coating it in your arousal. “My pretty little wife, with her pretty little cunt.” His fingers gripped at your thigh while he found his rhythm, angling himself to find the spot–
You keened, gasping as he huffed out a satisfied laugh.
“There it is, that is the spot, yes?” He focused, hitting it like a bullseye while you clutched at the linens, too blissed out to answer but it mattered not, he knew. Sweat beaded on his brow, the muscles in his arms gleamed in the low candlelight as he panted out his exertion. His beauty so obvious, so highlighted there as he loved you that it filled the little space in your belly not filled with his child with the beating of butterfly wings.
Your fingers reached out to him, needing to feel him surround you and he smiled, leaning forward to catch the tips of them with his lips while his hips moved faster. Your arousal pooled at the base of him, soaking the fine patch of hair between your legs, as well as the curls at the base of his cock.
With a crooked grin, he reached between your legs to swirl his thumb around your swollen clit and the climax is so close your legs start to tremble.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Marcus–” It was so close, building like a fire in your hips, spreading like lightning throughout your veins, dripping from where you were joined onto the linens of your bed. Your hand crept down, joining his to press his fingers closer, to guide his movements faster until you burst around him, squeezing him so tight he groaned and slowed his steady thrusting to a grind, his groin pressed tight. Your cunt fluttered around him, pleasure blooming and flooding your body like good, strong wine and it only intensified when he started moving again, chasing his own end while you floated on your cloud. It only took him a few thrusts before he filled you, fucking his seed deep.
His chest rose and fell with each rapid breath, smiling and laughing softly as he pulled himself out.
Your combined passion smeared against your hip when he surged forward to claim your mouth in a kiss. His big hand curled around the curve of your neck softly, such a contrast to how it gripped your thigh. It slid down, smooth as silk before squeezing at your breast.
“Oh!’ The warm drip shocked you, the milk beaded at your nipple before dripping down the valley between your breasts. The bigger shock though, was how quickly he chased it with his tongue. The arousal only flared again, sharp as a knife at the moan he let out. With an almost drunk expression, he wrapped his lips around the peak, and tasted your milk straight from the source.
“Good?” Your fingers threaded through his sweat-soaked waves, cradling him close while he drank deep. His expression was almost sheepish, almost ashamed when he pulled away.
“I do not know what has come over me,” He licked at the tip, staring at the other breast longingly, “I had to taste you, it’s so sweet.” He dipped his head again, drinking from the other breast, deep, strong pulls that only made the red hot coal of desire within you burn even brighter than before. When he pulled away he was breathing hard, shocked at his own reaction.
“Did I hurt you?” He licked at sensitive peaks again, filling your brain with a fog of lust so strong you could barely think.
“No, not at all, it feels really good.” You pulled him closer, urging him to drink, while guiding his hand between your legs. With a knowing grin, he obeyed.
-
You knew from the moment your eyes opened in the morning, that the baby would come. There was an ache, a pulsing, a violence to its movements within your womb. The child was as impatient to emerge, as you were to give birth and finally have it whole and healthy in your arms.
With a sigh, you tried to adjust yourself, smiling as Marcus pressed himself closer in his sleep, his big hand holding the swell.
“I think today is the day, hmm?” You whispered to your belly, it kicked hard enough to make you wince.
“Gods above, I felt that one, this child will be strong.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling another sigh from you. “How are you feeling?”
“I think it will be today, it feels like the baby has moved lower.” You did your best to rise, groaning before he all but lifted you to sit upright.
“I will make the preparations, the midwife is ready and waiting for our summons.” He rose quickly, making you laugh with his urgency.
“Peace Marcus, it will not be right this second, but I do feel it mightl be today.” You stood, gingerly padding towards him, waving away his frown of concern. “Walking is good for me, it will help me with my labours.” He still frowned, meeting you halfway and squeezing you as tightly as he could without causing you pain.
“I will be with you, at your side the whole time.” There was a small tremble in his voice you did not recognize, a nervous aura about him that seemed to bolster you. How curious, you thought, that his moment of fear, is my moment of courage.
“The midwife and her attendants will be there, most men wait until the child is born–”
“I am not most men. I will be with you, holding your hand and wiping at your brow. This is a battle I cannot fight for you, but no one will keep me out of that room.” He pressed his face into your neck and you softened, his fear was justified. Many children did not survive their coming into the world, many mothers died alongside them. You said nothing, nodding softly as his fingers dug into your robes.
The sun made its way across the sky and as it did your pains grew stronger. Cramps painful enough to steal your breath would squeeze at you like a fist for a few minutes before releasing you. The midwife walked with you, she took note of how much time passed between each attack, readying the birthing stool as well as her oils, her sponges and enough water and linens to be able to tend to both you and the baby.
The sun was kissing the horizon when the water came, spilling all over your feet like a tidal wave and sending Marcus into a cold panic.
The midwife did her examinations while your body ripped itself in two. With barely contained screams, and sweat dripping down your brow you got into position, doing your best to focus on your breathing while Marcus kept his word, silently wiping at your brow, and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you could.
“It must be now, push.” The midwife and one of her girls were in place, moving your robes aside to have access and you did what you had to do. You pushed.
It was agony.
It was liquid fire burning its way through your body, this baby wasn’t being born, it was clawing and tearing its way out of you.
Marcus whispered into your ear, encouragingly, lovingly, patiently guiding you to breathe, to not give up. He reminded you how strong you were, how loved and how soon it would be over. How could it be over soon? It felt as though this pain had been with you at your own birth, all of your life this pain has been here, it had to be. Hours, days? You could not tell how long it had been.
You cried, you begged for it to end, you willed it to be so; shouted and screamed that it hurt too much, that it was too hard and that you could not do it. You told them that the baby would not come, that you could not do this, you were not strong enough. You screamed that this would surely kill you, you would tear in two and die.
“You will not die, you can do this, my love. Bear down, and push.” His gaze was steely, focused and firm and it filled you with courage.
With a sob and a scream you pushed, and pushed. You pushed so much you thought you’d burst and then pushed more still. Until finally, blessedly, the baby came out.
“You have done it! You have done it my love, my beautiful, strong, courageous girl, you have done it!” Tears were in his eyes as he held onto your limp form, but he was not looking at you.
“Why does the child not cry?” It felt like you’d drunk too much wine, the relief from the pain so great you would faint soon, yet still, silence. There was a lot of movement, a terrifying moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity and despite Marcus all but carrying you and laying you back to rest, no one met your eye.
“Answer me, Marcus, why does the baby not cry? Give it to me! Is it a boy? Is it a girl?” Tears flowed and fear swelled like bile crawling up your throat until a cry loud enough to hurt your ears sounded and the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“She is a beautiful, healthy and whole baby girl.” Swaddled and screaming, the bundle was placed at your breast. Marcus sobbed, openly and loudly into your shoulder, his big hand covering her tiny head while you looked at her in awe. She had so much hair, such strong lungs, such a force that you laughed, still crying.
“Yes my little love, I know, you fought so hard.” You pressed a kiss to her little brow, doing your best to soothe her.
She took to nursing your breast quickly, a good sign the midwife said and while she and her girls set everything to rights, you could focus on nothing but her. Her little hands clutched at you, taking a few greedy pulls before falling asleep, milk smeared all over her perfect face.
“She is utterly perfect, she has your hands.” Marcus lay beside you, his gaze on her as though entranced.
“She has your hunger.” You smiled, the euphoria eclipsing everything. It was so hard to stay awake though, the birth had taken so much out of you.
“Give her to me and rest. I will be here with you.” With gentle hands, he took her, managing to put her onto his chest without waking her and before he���d even fully settled, sleep had claimed you.
-
She had fought, both of them had.
His girls had battled, fought tooth and nail and had come through victorious, though his love had paid a price. She’d bled, bled enough that it had frightened him, chilled him to the bone and when the midwife pulled him aside he already knew what she would say. There would be no more children, another birth might kill her.
He mourned the fact that his daughter would have no siblings, no other children to fill this house alongside her but his wife would live. That was all that mattered.
He watched her as she slept, glowing still, if a little wan, weakened by her labours but beautiful all the same. He could no longer imagine living this life without her, he could not see the joy in anything without her there beside him and now his daughter held the other half of his heart. She was the fruit of their union, she was the parts of them that would live on, the living embodiment of his good fortune and just the sight of her filled his eyes with tears.
He pressed his lips to her little brow, smiling at the furrow in them when he jostled her, so like her mother it made him cry all the harder.
This was all that mattered, his entire world was in this bed and he was loath to ever be separated from them again.
He didn’t know which name to call her, they’d never settled on anything. Acacia didn’t seem right, how could he name her after himself when she so resembled her mother already? Aurelia, that was pretty, Diana too. He would wait though, let her have the last say. He basked in the glow of the candles, in the comfort of his wife’s warm weight beside him, in the small weight at his chest and said another silent prayer in thanks.
-
She was so big already, three whole months and her growth never ceased to amaze you. She still looked tiny in her fathers arms, his broadness compared to her small body always made you smile, especially because for her he was less the brutal Roman General, and more of a soft, lump of honey. She ruled him implicitly, her every cry, her every happy sound was the reason he breathed.
“My love, I need to change her, those little robes are covered in milk.” There was no bite in your words, there could be no anger or annoyance in you at his adoration of her.
“Yes, yes you are right, she must be changed.” He smiled, bringing her to you. She was tired, yawning and fussing, fighting off her midday slumber with a fierceness that made you laugh.
“Yes yes I know Diana, one moment and then your father will rock you.” You cooed at her, making quick work of the change and taking the opportunity to wipe her down with a damp cloth before returning her where she slept the best, her fathers chest.
Once he took her and sat at his favoured chair, she was out, little fist curled under her chin. This was his favourite, and yours. Watching her sleep peacefully, safe and loved within your arms, or his.
“I never grow tired of studying her, already her little face is changing.”
He pressed his lips to her head, breathing in the clean, baby milk smell of her.
“She will have your hair, already it curls when I wash it.” You thread your fingers through the fine wisps of it softly, smiling to imagine her older with curls flowing down her back.
“She has your look, your look exactly. I am still in awe that we have created something so perfect.” His hand took yours and brought it to his lips, you bent to press yours to his forehead.
“As am I, how blessed we are to have her, to have each other.”
-
When he slipped into bed, you pressed your fingers to your lips, eyes wide to warn him.
“She is finally asleep, we must not wake her.” Your whisper was frantic, and he nodded.
“Yes my lady, I will be silent as the grave.” He pulled you close, whispering in your ear before pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.
“So long as you can keep your voice down when I love you.” His hands pawed at you but you were so tired, it was hard to reconcile the intense want for him, with the ache of the day settling heavy on your bones.
“My love, my mind desires this, but my body is so tired.” You pouted at him, mildly upset to deny him.
“Shall I use my mouth? You can lay back and relax, I can take care of you—my lovely girl deserves pleasure, and rest.” He smiled, undeterred and you could not help but smile.
“And it does not bother you that I will just lay here? Most likely asleep before you have come up for air?” His grey waves were so soft when you raked your fingers through them.
“It pleases me to please you, you are the mother of my child and the love of my life, I would do anything for you.” He kissed your fingers before spreading your legs wide with the breadth of his shoulders. “Do you wish for me to stop?” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and then the soft patch of hair at your mound, before kissing the lips of your sex.
“No, I do not wish for you to stop.” You spread your legs a little wider and his smile grew bigger, letting a big glob of his own spit fall onto your sex before chasing it with his tongue.
He is focused, honed in with his gaze and with his tongue on your clit, flat wide licks from where your arousal drips up to the bundle of nerves and it’s like a spike of arousal pierced the very heart of you every time he swiped his tongue over it. Warm, wet and perfect, he swirled around it in time with your heartbeat, fanning the embers burning in your belly for him.
The fingers that softly scratched at his scalp, now curled into the waves holding him in place as you struggled to keep your mouth shut, but he made it so difficult. The ache building as his brow creased with concentration and his own excitement. His own hand crept down and grasped his cock, stroking at it in time with the delicious circuit of his tongue. That he gained so much pleasure from this only heightened your own, and soon the knot tightened.
Muscles clenched, all of your body a taut string waiting to snap with every pass, every strong lick. You pinched at a nipple, pulling his eyes up to find yours and he let out a low groan, the vibration of it pushed you over the edge with a silent gasp, and empty rhythmic clenches around nothing. He bestowed a final, filthy kiss to your overstimulated clit before moving quickly to get into position. With the shine of exertion glinting on his golden skin he knelt between your legs, pumping at himself furiously before silently, violently spilling onto your still fluttering sex. Hot, milky splashes of him covering it while he gripped at your thigh hard enough to bruise.
He caught his breath, smearing himself in his own mess between your legs past the point of discomfort. He was so beautiful like this, with the flush of passion lighting up his cheeks and his ears, spreading down his chest.
He smiled, winking at you before he grabbed the cloth from the basin and cleansing the mess he had made. You wanted to hold and be held by him, but by the time he was done, you were already asleep.
-
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#general acacius#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius smut
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"What A Beautiful Family!"
In which you get confused for being a family
Rengoku:
- It happens during a trip to the store in town with his little brother. Maybe it was to restock groceries or maybe it was buying supplies for his next demon conquest, either way: all three of you went down to visit.
- Rengoku smiled softly at you as he watched you with his little brother, holding his hand and laughing with Senjuro and occasionally lifting him up and spinning around.
- At some point during the walk, Senjuro pointed at some birds flying in the tree and begged Kyojuro for a closer look, which Kyojuro happily allowed him to do and put him on his shoulders with a big smile. You helped Senjuro steady himself and laughed at how precious the two looked.
- As Senjuro and Kyojuro debated about what kind of birds they were, you couldn't help but look at Kyojuro with nothing less than love in your eyes and a fond smile.
- "Aw, how precious!" a woman walking past with a basket filled with baked goods cooed at you three, "I'm glad even with demons terrorizing us, people can still have moments like this. Here, have some!"
- At first you tried to decline out of embarrassment but Kyojuro humbly took them and gave one to Kyojuro and handed a pastry to you. You were hesitant but then you took it and graciously thanked the lady, "but also, I feel bad for not paying for these, ma'am. Please, let me-"
- "Don't you worry about it. A beautiful family like you should enjoy a good snack on such a lovely day, especially since your husband's a hashira."
- Rengoku opened his mouth to let out a hearty "TASTY!" but stopped himself halfway when he heard that. You just stared at the lady in flustered shock as she bowed her head and walked away.
- You and Kyojuro shared a look with each other, Kyojuro giving you a nervous yet wide grin and you returned it. Both of your faces felt warm and you were barely able to hold eye contact with each other.
- "Haha, that lady thought you were (Y/n)'s husband! Isn't that funny, big brother?" and Rengoku's gaze softens as you become timid and look down at your feet, "Yes...I suppose it is, Kyojuro."
Tengen:
- You were walking with Tengen and his wives, happy to see him a bit more after his retirement, when you stumbled upon three neighboring children, who played too roughly and were crying their eyes out about it.
- You and Hinatsuru helped them while Suma tried not to cry with the two boys but offered to help and Makio awkwardly tried to calm them down. Tengen just squatted down and told them that it wasn't very flashy to cry, which made you and Hina elbow him.
- Instead of getting more upset, however, all three boys became excited and seemed to recgonize Tengen, asking him if he was the sound Hashira, which seemed to greatly inflate his ego as he said: "Yes but I am also the God of Festivals!"/ "WOW! REALLY!?"
- You and his wives exchanged glances knowing he wouldn't shut up. When they asked if he could tell him a story of the demons he fought, he tried to be all: "Oh, it might be too scary for you kids...BUT WHAT THE HECK- So I was in the Entertainment District which is filled with prost-"/ "UZUI."/ "IT'S IMPORTANT TO THE STORY."
- Anyways, after some censoring, each boy found a home in your lap, Suma's lap, and another sat on Hinatsuru's but leaned their head on Makio's arm. All of you entranced by Tengen's storytelling and prescence.
- "Haha, such an energetic father. Those boys are definetly gonna grow up strong!"/ "I wonder which of those women are his wife?"/ "From the way they're looking at him, all four, probably."
- Tengen's voice suddenly stopped, most likely because he heard what they said, but instead of correcting him, his eyes landed on you. You could feel Hina's, Suma's, and Makio's gaze on you as well and you felt timid...but not uncomfortable. His lips upturned into a smirk and you felt yourself trying to look at ANYWHERE but the attractive faces that were staring at you.
- "Well, what happened next!?" One of the boys demanded, impatient from the cliff hanger.
- "Huh- Oh, right! Anyways, this demon CAME OUT and he was UGLY. Absolutely hideous, like a monster that crawled from under your bed-"
- When the boys finally were called home, you all waved goodbye and parted ways. Leaving you alone with the retired Hashira and his wives, you didn't say anything but the energy felt different as Suma clung to your arm and Tengen walked closer to you, Makio's eyes would stray towards you but timidly look away when you caught her gaze as Hina wished this walk would last forever. Just the five of you.
#THIS WAS RUSHED BUT IT WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.#HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKE IT.#kny x reader#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer#uzui x reader#uzui wives#uzui tengen x reader#tengen uzui x reader#tengen x wives x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#kyojuro rengoku x reader#kny x you
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could you write some farm ellie headcanons? i saw your dealer abby ones and i loved them!!! fluff and/ or nsfw whatever your comfortable with!! -🤍
farm!ellie hc’s
hi anon ty so much!! i hope u like this one just as much <3 i rlly loved writing these. i could write abt ellie playing guitar All day. (꩜﹏꩜) pls lmk if i made any mistakes!
warning: suggestive themes
౨ৎ farm!ellie who’s love language is acts of service and physical touch. shes always helping you around the house, whether thats helping you do the laundry, the dishes, yard work, herding the goats, or just playing you a sweet song while you sit at her feet. if shes not doing the tasks for you, shes right behind you. slender hands tracing up the sides of your waist. kissing at your shoulders and neck. wrapping her arms around you, swaying you from side to side humming a tune.
౨ৎ farm!ellie who is slowly but surely teaching you how to play guitar. you only know a few chords, but every time you strum something even remotely close to a tune her face brightens and she smiles at you, kissing up your cheek. shes so thrilled at the fact shes teaching her girl something. even going as far to sit behind you, placing her strong hands over your own to help you position your fingers onto the fret.
౨ৎ farm!ellie who has TONS of records she found in an abandoned music store when you both were in seattle. god knows how she managed to have space for them in her bag. shes found a weird new interest in emo and metal as of recent, dragging you into her music room for you to take a listen at a certain vocal or guitar riff. “isnt it so cool?” she says beaming, completely astonished at the sound. “yeah, babe. its cool” you smile back.
౨ৎ farm!ellie who when shes not being a loser, shes probably laying down with you in bed. she’s constantly touching all over you, attempting to rile you, always succeeding. grabbing at your thighs and kissing all over your neck. it ends the same way every single night, but who needs sleep when you have a hot girlfriend anyways?
౨ৎ farm!ellie who is obsessed with the idea of someday marrying you. constantly talking about it. even sometimes referring to you as her wife. her gaze always finds its way back to your hands and how pretty you’d look with a gemstone perfectly sat around your ring finger. in her eyes you Are her wife, and you’re perfectly okay with it.
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie x you#ellie fluff#ellie x fem reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie x reader#lesbian#farm ellie#wyphobia#ellie the last of us#abby the last of us#tlou#the last of us part 2#tlou2#tlouwriter#tlou ellie#abby tlou#tlouabby#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#ellie headcanons#ellie x y/n#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x reader#abbytlou#abby x you#abby fluff#suggestive
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Heart sweater | B.B
Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.
Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader
Wordcount: 2.033 Words
Warnings: none, just lots of fluff
Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!
Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty
Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.
Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.
Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.
Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.
You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.
“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.
Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.
“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.
“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”
You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.
Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.
Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.
Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.
“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.
“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.
She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.
“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.
She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.
His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.
“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”
She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.
“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.
He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”
You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.
Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.
“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.
“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”
“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.
Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.
Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.
“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”
Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.
“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.
Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.
“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”
Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.
Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo @thevillainswhore
#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x fem!reader#mob bucky x y/n#mob bucky x you#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob bucky au#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#bucky x fem reader#bucky x female yn#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x yn#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x reader fanfiction
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Needed Me 2
Part 2
Natasha x Wife!Reader
Warnings: angst, slight smut, blow!job, slightly mean!
nat.
Summary: heated arguments with Natasha
Authors Note: I’m sorry it took me so fucking long to finish this, I'm okay! but I had major writers block and I wanted to make it good for you guys. I also wanted to put the daughter in here more.
Lena swung her head in your direction, "Mommy I want this one," she whined. The rack of stuffed animals sat on display as your daughter complained about how much she wanted the pink bunny.
"No baby, you remember what mama said."
Last night, Natasha talked to lena about behaving properly. Now that she's getting older you can't keep babying her and supplying all her wants after a tantrum or fit.
So Natasha decided on no extra things outside of the store list for a month so she can learn that you won't be able to get everything she asks for even if she decides on throwing a fit.
"Lena, no means no," scowls natasha. Carrying Mateo in his car seat with her left hand, "Pick her up detka — let's go."
You couldn't help but bite your lip at Natasha's authority
Seeing her do what she does best turned you on in so many ways you couldn't explain. You couldn't stay upset with her no matter how hard you 'tried'.
Heading to your shared bedroom last night, Natasha had a way with her words, instead of hate sex you made love.
You missed her warmth and her touch but there's nothing you miss more than how sexy she looked taking care of her family.
Yes, your wife is a lot of things but you know how deeply she cares for the three of you and if you didn't.. you wouldn't have taken her back.
-
You sighed in frustration, "I'm not trying to upset you baby"
"I never said you did," she muttered, gathering the clothes and putting them into the drawer across from you.
Which was a lie, you knew she was upset because you disagreed with her thoughts of not putting lena into school right now.
You brushed your fingers through her red hair trying your best to comfort her, "I understand there's a risk baby but I want her to have a normal child hood"
Natasha chuckles in disbelief,
"You understand nothing."
You scoff, "Natasha? She's my kid too so what don't I understand?" You started walking across the other side of the room away from her.
"Please, humor me." You sat down in the chair next to the open window, your hands slapping your knee as you sat down.
A blank stare on her face caused you to raise an eyebrow, bouncing your leg impatiently waiting for an answer.
It wasn't surprising that you and Natasha got into an argument today, it was always bound to happen. Sooner or later.
"You do shit like this all the time," she mumbles under her breath, trying to make it hard for you to hear.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Natasha?"
Your wife clutches the shirt in hand, more frustration clouding her eyes as she stares at you. She clearly didn't have an explanation, only acting on impulse.
"Am I the one who forged our divorce? If anybody does stupid shit it's you not me." You protest, rubbing your fingers on your temple.
But there's something about crawling under Natasha's skin that pumps you up. Toying with her is what got you here, having two of her kids and married to her for seven years.
She ignores your directed comment, "There's too many risks."
"She's not attending school and that's final," Natasha grumbled, her head was filled with your nagging comments.
"Nat -" you tried to reason with her.
"Don't" She growls, snapping her eyes up at you.
Your mouth clicks shut, "Sorry," you mumble. She knows how well you respond when she gets pissed off.
Sometimes you can't believe the effect Natasha has on you.
She knows your weaknesses and has no problem showing her mastery over you. Something you craved over the past few months, something a certain someone couldn't give you.
You haven't told Natasha, you figured if she ever found out a another woman came around the house, she'll probably kill the girl.
She's too possessive of you to share you with anyone else. It'll tear her ego down, make her seem like she doesn't have control anymore.
—
"What do you know about banana bread, bunny?" Natasha laughs, hearing your daughter talk about how much she loved the taste of the dessert at the dinner table.
Lena giggles with a wide smile, "Miss Maximoff always makes some for me and mommy" she grins, picking up her last nugget eating it innocently.
Fear was written across your faces as you avoided contact with your wife. Natasha furrows her eyebrows at you, mouthing something you couldn't quite pick up on.
You stood up, "Let's put you to bed baby."
Natasha stared daggers at you, continuing to watch you walk away but you tried your best to not turn around.
The anticipation of waiting for you to get back sent nat over the edge causing her to throw everything off her desk.
"Fuck!" she screamed.
You heard nat scream through the door as your hand hovered over the door nob. You took a short breath to get yourself together before entering.
The door shut behind you, Natasha turned around instantly averting all of her attention to you.
"Natasha"
Before you could finish your sentence, she already had her hand wrapped around your neck causing you to inhale shakily, "Please baby."
Your wife clenched her jaw, staring into your eyes making you feel small under her grasp.
"Did she fuck you?" For a moment you saw her eyes darken, her hands starting to grip tighter forcing you to answer her question with a quivering voice, "No"
She released her hand, slamming it on the wall beside you, "Don't fucking lie to me!"
Your eyes welled up with tears and your body shook at the sudden movement she made. You and Wanda didn't have anything special she was nice but she was too nice for you.
You needed something stronger, you wanted Natasha hence why you never went further than a kiss on the cheek. But in this moment something clicked in you.
You needed her.
You looked up at the red head, moving down onto your knees. You wanted Natasha to know that you were hers and no one else's.
"Get up," she gritted.
Ignoring her statement you unbuttoned her pants pulling it lower until her underwear came off. Her dick sprung free ready to be sucked by you.
After a long pause, she moved forward grabbing your head forcing her cock into your mouth. Your tongue sliding along her length as you bobbed your head up and down. She groaned, holding onto the wall, "She could never fill you up like this" she said between pants.
You locked eyes with your wife who was watching you with pure lust in her gaze. Natasha cleared her throat, cock twitching from her own thoughts.
"You don't deserve my cock, detka."
She smiles at the whimpers that escaped you. Her hips started to move and you moaned.
"You shouldn't be sucking dick like a slutty little whore"
Tearing your gaze away from the cock, which was dripping with pre cum, you stared straight into her piercing orbs.
"We didn't have sex, Natty." You whispered, voice mildly hoarse already.
Natasha's face was flushed, cock weeping precum still.
She hadn't realized how close she was to coming until you stopped. "I know.you wouldn't do that to me," was all she uttered as you moved to take her again.
Natasha groaned, every word dying on her lips as your mouth was back on her cock. "Oh...just like that detka... fuck your mouth takes me so well..." You glanced upwards, watching her throat bob as she tilted her head completely back. A low, husky moan left her lips as you swallowed.
The sound of your daughter's voice from down the hall made you pull back. Saliva and cum dripping down your face as Natasha groaned at the sight, painting your face with her milk-white cum.
She forced your mouth open with her hand, releasing the rest of her cum into your mouth. Seeing you drop to your knees for her and pleasing her needs without asking made her proud. It made her thirst for you more.
You quickly got off your knees in a hurry, rolling your eyes at your crazed wife for making a mess of your face while trying to get up.
"Put your dick in your pants before your daughter comes in here" you whispered by her ear, a demanding tone that surprised natasha.
Quickly walking to the bathroom to clean your face, the sound of your daughter's voice getting closer to the room startled Natasha as she buckled up her pants.
"Mama, where's mommy? I can't sleep" Her hair was all over her head, fingers rubbing her tired eyes.
You shouted from the bathroom, "Mommy's coming baby!"
You threw your face towel down, walking out of the bathroom being met with Natasha sitting on the bed with the little girl tracing her tattoos, her head on her mama's chest.
Lena looked up with a smile making your heartmelt at the sight. "Why was mama screaming earlier?" She questioned, tilting her head.
Natasha bursted into laughter, you quickly sent her a pointed look causing her to quiet down. You sighed at your daughters question, "Nothing love, I was helping her with something"
Lena was even more confused than before, it was written all over her face but she shrugged her shoulders letting it go.
Nat smiled at her confusions, leaning down to kiss the temple of her head.
You smiled at the interaction it made you realize no matter the fights or arguments you and Natasha will have she'll forever be here to love you and the kids.
And you'll always love Natasha.
Even if that meant you needed her more than she needed you.
Needed Me
Tags:
@starfire1008@viosblog112@dvrkhcld@ciao00000111 @ddreader04@twentyonetornmyheart @pancakefan7529@widowstingsposts @rosea-reginae @coxlong
#natasha romanoff x female#natasha x you#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#natasha smut#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#avengers x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wandanat x reader#smut wlw#wlw post
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Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙
Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗
“Don’t worry”
Tyler Owens x Reader
“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.
He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.
When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.
“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.
He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.
‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.
Tyler’s heart stops.
Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.
He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.
He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.
When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.
“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.
He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”
He checks your pulse.
Good, steady but kind of weak.
Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.
Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.
The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.
“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.
He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.
“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.
“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.
———
At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.
How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?
He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.
Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.
“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.
“When?” He’d asked.
“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”
The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.
Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.
“Tyler?”
“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”
“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”
“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”
“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”
You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.
The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.
“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.
“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.
“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”
Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”
“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”
“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”
“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”
“10:30 PM,” he tells you.
“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.
Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”
“Sounds perfect.”
You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”
He turns around. “Yes baby?”
“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”
Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.
#glen powell#fanfic#tyler owens#tyler owens headcanon#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens oneshot#tyler owens x reader#twisters 2024#twisters#lulu's requests mail
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just watched a tiktok that essentially went ‘check your tone b4 u talk to my girl/dont talk to my wife like that’ and now i need protective naruto charas w this.. team 7 ?! (and maybe the other konoha 11 (+ sand sibs kinda fit this too but omit and add whoever! no pressure!!))
I love how this is definitely pretty much canon to Sasuke’s character lol
Some are modern AU, some aren’t. It’ll be pretty much obvious, but if it’s not, it doesn’t matter too much.
I only did team 7 (Kakashi, Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and Sai) this time since the entire Konoha 13 and sand siblings can take a while and I just did all of them on my last post.(sorry no Yamato, I don’t know how to write for him tbh)
Fem reader
“Watch your Tone before you speak to my girl.”
Naruto Uzumaki
He can’t figure out why this guy is actually flipping his shit over something so small?
All you did was bump into him while you were trying to turn around from the counter in the kitchen. The party was packed, but the kitchen wasn’t quite as bad. You didn’t think you had to watch your every step so carefully.
The guy, clearly drunk off his ass, turns around and tells you to watch yourself. He throws out some basic insults, nothing too deep, but the attempt pisses your blonde, hotheaded boyfriend off.
The guy reaches for you, probably to tap your shoulder, throwing out some “flirty” comment meant to degrade you.
Naruto shoves the dude back, “watch your tone when you talk to her. That’s my girl.”
The dude, with as much respect for Naruto as he had, nods quickly, scampering off.
Naruto pours you another drink, giving you it as he pulls you onto the dance floor.
Sasuke Uchiha
Somebody talking down to his wife?
He knows damn well you can handle yourself, so he’ll stay back, but if you look at him for some help, he’s coming right on over.
He caught wind of the guy telling you off for being weak, saying you’re no help so you have no business ever being a ninja.
He can’t help but wonder what the hell this guys problem is. His wife isn’t weak. You’re one of the top ninja in the village, without a doubt. Maybe he has an issue with women?
“Don’t talk to my wife like that. You’re half the ninja she is.”
Sai
He’s right there and some dipshit has the nerve to talk down on you IN FRONT of him????
It was over something that was common knowledge to a person native to the village your team was visiting, but you simply didn’t know. You’d apologized many times. Wasn’t that enough?
He’s very subtly sassy at first. He’s monotone and flat in tone, but he’s being snarky. You can tell and the dude is catching on.
As Sai gets more pissed off, he gets more obvious.
Because it takes a bit to make him actually feel any which way, this dude is just a dickhead. And Sai isn’t having it
“Watch your tone. Talk to her right. Or we can handle this elsewhere?” Sai is smiling, but it’s a threat.
Sakura Haruno
She’s fuming when she hears somebody talking down to you. How dare somebody shit talk her girlfriend while you’re just trying to shop.
You’d gotten the last of something, since you were there first, but some Karen ass woman wanted it and was telling you why she deserves it more than you.
You’d explained kindly how you got to it first, but looked about ready to give it up and hand it over.
Sakura wasn’t going to let this woman step on your toes
“Watch your tone when you talk to my girl.” Sakura balls her hands into fists beside herself, but doesn’t raise them.
The woman is scared because Sakura is lowkey jacked and now she knows she’ll never be safe again. She gives it up.
Kakashi Hatake
This person didn’t know you were with Kakashi, without a doubt.
You were in a book store, and apparently you’d accidentally bumped into some girl and knocked all the books out of her arms. (She was carrying way too many without a basket for some reason)
You apologized, helping her pick them up, but she wasn’t letting it go.
She kept insulting your thinking skills and asked if you’re going blind. Over all, just things Kakashi knew weren’t true or didn’t matter. It was an accident. (And if you were going/are blind, it’s still, and more so, not your fault so he’s trying to figure out who tf this girl is??)
He waits to see what you do, but he won’t hesitate if he sees you need just a bit of help.
“How unhappy with your life do you have to be to talk like that?” Kakashi asks, closing his book. “You should watch your tone when you talk to my girl.”
#superliminalwriting#naruto#naruto shippuden#naruto team 7#team 7#kakashi hatake x reader#Kakashi hatake#Kakashi#naruto x reader#naruto uzumaki#naruto uzumaki x reader#Sasuke Uchiha x reader#Sasuke x reader#Sasuke Uchiha#sai x reader#yamanaka sai#sai yamanaka#sai yamanaka x reader#Sakura Haruno x reader#Sakura x reader#Sakura Haruno#sai#naruto shippuden x reader
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There’s something about seeing Simon Riley as a dad that makes her heart swell with love and adoration. A man who was so terrified he left for a week straight when she told him about the baby, a man who came back and fell to his knees sobbing, a man who promised her he would never turn into his own father, a man who cried on the day he saw his daughter come into the world, refused to let anyone but him and his wife hold their child.
He’s a bit of a helicopter parent, she’s noticed. He’s awfully glaring at the other children in the daycare center as he sits in the middle of the babies. More than once, he’s swiped her toy dinosaur back from another baby and glared at the boy. He also glares at the other parents when they try to stick their fingers in his daughter’s face or her tummy to see her smile or giggle. He sleeps on the ground next to her crib or has her bassinet next to his side. Buys her whatever she touches in the store because “she obviously wanted it.” She has to alternate feeding and bottles with him because he gets pouty when he can’t bottle-feed her.
It’s endearing, and she’s thankful he’s such a good husband and father who’s more than willing to take on all the work. She wonders momentarily if they’re going to raise a little spoiled monster the way they treat her so far, but when she sees Simon stare at his daughter like she’s the greatest treasure of all, she can’t really bring herself to care much. There’s a softness and such a deep happiness that she’s never seen before in his eyes when she watches her touch Simon’s mask and do the adorable coo, spit dribbling down her chin as she hunches forward and gnaws on his cheek; he likes to call it the perfect kiss.
It's the moment she realizes Simon was meant to be a dad when he redresses their daughter after changing her, puts her socks on, grabs her legs in a gentle grip and pretends to eat her feet until she’s crying with those adorable giggles.
“An’ look what we ‘ave here!” he rumbles with a grin, and she knows he’s smiling beneath his mask. “Someone’s feetsies ready to eatsies!”
She purses her lips, trying not to laugh as she inconspicuously pulls her phone out and records him. Their daughter squeals with laughter as Simon pretends to gnaw on her feet.
“NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM!” he grumbles loudly and his eyes crinkle around the edges as joy lights up his face. “MY FEETSIES TO EATSIES!”
She begins to laugh, unable to help herself and he looks up at his wife, sees the phone and glares for a second before going back to his daughter who is giggling away, grabbing at his hands, and squealing, “Baba!”
(Of course all credit to the renders above goes to Miss @ave661! If you've never checked out her work, please go do so! She's so wonderfully talented!)
#dad!ghost#dad!simon riley#dad!simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod imagines#cod imagine#cod
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Rumours
Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife
Chapter IV: Never Going Back Again 🎼 Masterlist
Summary: Aemond answers your performance of 'Dreams' by singing yet another newly composed song during rehearsal. This time, you can't contain the rage he elicits within you.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, smut, hatesex, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, P in V, choking, degradation, manhandling
Word count: 4880 A/N: Thank you always to my love Justine, @theoneeyedprince for helping me by having a look at the edited version 🩵
Bringing Aemond’s old hoodie on tour feels like harbouring a shameful secret.
You’d felt weak enough when you spontaneously brought it with you when you moved out of your shared flat. And when you realised it was the only thing that could make you fall asleep any time anxiety weighed heavy on your chest.
So when you packed your suitcases to tour the Seven Kingdoms, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. But the shame of still needing it; still needing the memory of him, resulted in you storing it away somewhere no one would see it, least of all yourself.
Until you sought it out.
You wake up still curled on the side of the large bed, Aemond’s scent encompassing you.
How long will his smell linger on the fabric?
Soon, it’d disappear and you’d have no trace of him left.
You reach Winterfell the next day. Luckily, you’re allowed a small break before the next performance, leaving you some time to explore the city and rehearse with the band.
You spend your day sightseeing in the capital of the North; grabbing coffee with Helaena and window shopping around the bustling city centre.
Despite the quick friendship you had established after joining the band, your relationship with Helaena has become greatly strained following your separation from Aemond.
You know she hates the tension and the fighting. She has a habit of closing off and retreating whenever she feels uncomfortable, and having two band members in an infected conflict is not something she finds easy to navigate. You still love her like a sister, and you know Aemond holds her dear as well, so you try to spare her from it all, even if your attempts aren’t always successful.
“We’ll be late for the rehearsal if we don’t leave soon”, you tell her as she’s eyeing a pair of sparkly firefly hair clips. She nods absentmindedly in response and picks up the clips,
“I know, I know. Let me just get these”, she answers with a smile, heading towards the register.
Helaena pays for the newest addition to her endless collection of insect trinkets, and you leave for the venue you’ll be performing at in two days; Winterfell Arena.
This is going to be your biggest show yet.
When your management booked the arena you were scared of not selling enough tickets to justify such a large space. But you’d been pleasantly surprised by the interest shown in the North. The last tickets had just sold, and it would be your largest audience to date.
Entering the arena, you’re taken aback by its sheer size. You can’t believe you’ll be performing in a place like this, and to a sold-out crowd. You’re suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of nauseating anxiety. Will you be able to give them a worthy show?
Will you be good enough?
The constant self doubt that plagues your mind had been easier to handle when Aemond was by your side. He’d always been your biggest supporter; chasing away all your inner demons with his reassurance.
He always made you feel better.
Now, you were left alone and with nothing but doubt keeping you company. You miss having someone to soothe you by your side.
Miss having someone to confide in.
To rely on.
The stage’s larger than any you’d ever been on before. You try to shake the nerves taking over you, but it’s hard not to get overwhelmed by the size of the hall. It’s intimidatingly large.
You and Helaena begin to set up and prepare for tonight’s rehearsal, and Jace, Erryk and Aemond drop in one by one to join. You’d expected the latter to have his usual gorgeous companion on his arm, but he surprises you by showing up alone, five minutes after the time you’d all agreed upon and without saying a word.
It isn’t like him to show up late, and you can feel the stress radiating from him, though he stays quiet.
You know he’s been working on yet another song for the new album, and today he mentioned in the group chat that he’d like to play it for you during rehearsal.
He’d sent you the name; ‘Never Going Back Again’.
Is it about his relationship with his grandfather?
When Aemond told Otto Hightower that he wanted to quit working for him at Oldtown Solicitors in order to fully focus on his music career, his grandfather had nearly cut all ties to him.
In a particularly weak moment, he’d even given you a call, insinuating that you were a bad influence on his grandson,
“I let him entertain this silly band for the sake of Helaena and Aegon! I even let him do a minor in history at the university I financed. And yet, he meets you and suddenly wants to give that all up to record an album? Talk some sense into him, won’t you?”
Aemond had been furious when you told him about the call from Otto, making it clear to his grandfather that he’d never go back to working with him or in property law. He’d been prepped and groomed since birth; the perfect heir to carry on the Hightower legacy. Not as flaky or unreliable as his older siblings. Always the dutiful son.
Aemond moves across the stage to grab his bag, pulls out a water bottle and places a tablet on his tongue.
You realise he must’ve been late due to the pain of his eye injury flaring up again. Despite his recent awful behaviour, you can’t help but feel bad for him.
When you first started dating, you’d been scared of asking about his eye. Evidently, it was a sore subject, and you didn't want to pry. Eventually, he told you about the car accident he was in when he was 10.
He’d been in the backseat of the family's car with his nephews, engaging in a petty fight. As the driver tried to de-escalate the situation in the back, he lost control of the vehicle, crashing it into a large tree by the side of the road.
The only casualty from the crash was Aemond’s left eye. A piece of metal from the car had come loose during the crash and flung back through the window, creating a scar going from his forehead down to his cheek; robbing him of his vision and permanently causing him pain.
When you started dating, you made sure to learn his routine and preferences, to make it easier and less unbearable for him when the nerve damage caused intense pain to shoot through his head.
You still remember.
He likes the room cool. He always lies on top of the duvet on his back, letting the chill air sooth his aching skin. Unless you’re there. Then he used to lie on his stomach next to you; one armed wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You’d thread your fingers through his silky hair with the softest of touches, stroking his head until the pain killers drag him into slumber.
It had been in one of those moments that he’d first told you he loves you.
You look over at Aemond as he makes his way towards his guitar, picking it up and experimentally playing a few chords to check the volume.
Did he manage the pain by himself now?
Or did he lay his head on Alys’ chest, hugging her?
Does she run her fingers through his hair?
Does she let them trace the outlines of the beautiful sharpness of his face?
Over his cupid's bow, nose bridge, cheekbones?
Does he lay his head on her chest, letting the drum of her heart lull him to sleep?
Does he allow her to come as close?
You go through the set list, discussing the order of both your older and newer songs.
Jace, Helaena and Erryk all praise your performance of Dreams, asking you to perform it each night moving forward.
Helaena, standing next to her brother, leans towards him and mumbles, “Your back-up vocals really make the chorus shine”, while offering him a gentle smile.
Aemond replies with a hum and moves to stand by one of the microphones with his guitar in hand. His usual stoic yet quietly commanding self returns when he starts to play without any explanation or introduction, fingers plucking the strings with precision. He sings,
‘She broke down and let me in’
During recording, you’d briefly glanced at the words in the recording studio, huffing a laugh at his audacity. They definitely sting more on stage. Your face turns hot and you can’t decipher if it’s from humiliation or anger. Maybe both.
He really is a dick.
‘Made me see where I’ve been’
‘Been down one time’
‘Been down two times’
‘Never going back again’
Any sympathy you’d felt for him; any longing you’d felt for him, vanishes as he sings. Another song about you, this time in the form of the final nail in the coffin that is your marriage.
And he had the nerve to ask you not to perform Dreams anymore?
‘You don’t know what it means to win’
‘Come ‘round and see me again’
Back at the hotel room, rage makes your entire body feel hot and restless.
How fucking dare he?
Never going back again?
First, he’d sung about how you broke his heart and now, he paints you like you’re the plague; like a sickness to avoid.
All you want to do is call Alysanne and spew out all the pent up emotions storming inside of you.
You place your phone on the nightstand and roughly shove the charger inside, fingers tapping furiously to call Alysanne.
She doesn’t answer and you call her again. Still no answer.
You’re so restless you can’t sit down, irritation making your skin feel hot and hands tingly.
What if you asked him to not play the song? That’s what he’d asked of you.
Unable to stay still, you grab your key card and shove your feet into a pair of white hotel slippers, heading down to where you know Aemond’s hotel room is.
You reach the door and knock on it firmly while your feet shuffle from side to side impatiently.
You're not sure what you’ll tell him, the rage inside guiding you instead of your senses.
Aemond opens the door, face unreadable and eyebrows raised in question at your sudden visit. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of green joggers and your gaze briefly flickers down to take in his shirtless stature.
“Really? Never going back?”, you question and move in closer. The heavy hotel door shut behind you, and suddenly it’s only the two of you, in his room.
He neither answers nor moves, and you’re standing so close that your clothed chest bumps into his naked one. You crane your neck to look into his eyes. His stern demeanour doesn’t quite reach them, gaze softer than you’d imagined.
Anger still guides you, and a pathetically spiteful idea prompts you to slowly kneel before him, still standing impossibly close and eyes never straying away from his.
“Not even if I do this?”
Your face is level with his crotch as you look up at him. He’s always loved this sight; you at his mercy. But not now. Now he’s at yours.
You slowly lean forward and press your lips against the exposed skin of his torso, fleetingly kissing him right by his happy trail, just above the hem of his trousers.
You’ve missed the soft smoothness of his flesh; a tender veil over the hard muscles hiding underneath. So contradictingly beautiful.
Aemond stays unmoving, eyes staring at you with a scorching intensity. You know he won’t stop you. If he didn’t want this, he’d have let you know by now.
So you press another kiss right under his navel, and feel sickly delighted by the barely-there shiver vibrating from him.
Slowly, and with light kisses to his stomach, you reach for the hem of his joggers, letting your hands softly pull down the fabric and reveal his manhood. He’s already half hard, and you have to bite back a smile.
Never going back again? Yeah right.
Your eyes never leave his as your delicate kisses trail downward, towards his cock, yet never making direct contact with it.
His face still is as impassive as always, but he’s now grown so hard his tip is leaking precum, fuelling your actions.
You haven’t been this close to him in months and it almost feels intoxicating; his smell encircling you.
You want to see him lose control; you need to see him lose control. Need to hear him beg for you.
Plead for you.
Come for you.
You squeeze your things together at the thought, arousal making an ache drum between your legs. It’s an addictive thought; imagining him pleading for you. Begging for you. Needing you.
You want him to want you.
He still hasn’t moved, or said anything. You take his silence as an invitation to continue.
Want him to want you.
Still locking eyes, you slowly graze your lips over his skin until your mouth is by the base of his cock. You know he won’t give you the satisfaction of letting you in on what he’s feeling, but that’s alright.
You’ll force it out of him.
Your hand travels up his leg and moves to grip his cock, now so hard it’s aching to be touched. You work in long, firm strokes, just the way he likes.
The staring contest continues. You know his stoic appearance is meant to frighten you, but you know him too well. You can see the cracks appearing already.
Eager to push him further, you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue out, gently swiping it over his leaking tip to collect the glistening beads of precum. You feel the proof of his arousal on your tongue, and you see his gaze flicker down to observe it in your mouth as you unhurriedly close your mouth and swallow.
He stays silent, but you see his jaw twitch.
He likes it.
Growing bolder, you move your lips back to the tip of his cock, kissing it in a far too innocent manner before wrapping your lips around him and sucking firmly.
In the briefest of moments, his eyebrows knit together and he closes his eyes.
The satisfaction you feel at his clear arousal goes straight to the thrumming between your legs, and you briefly squeeze your thighs together. You move your mouth lower, placing feather-light kisses down his length before gently swiping your tongue over his balls.
You can hear the restraint in each laboured breath he huffs through his nose.
Your soft lips envelop one of his balls, and your hands continue to stroke his length. You know he loves this; loves when you get down on your knees and worship him.
You let your tongue massage every inch as it rests in your mouth, and when you let out a moan, pure theatrics to make him succumb to you, Aemond’s jaw goes slack and his lips part uncontrollably.
Just a little further and you’ll break him.
You’ll win.
Perhaps the look in your eyes let him in on your scheme.
Perhaps he’s too close to continue.
But when he grabs you by the hair and yanks you off of him, it takes you by surprise.
“About to cum, baby?”, you mockingly ask.
He clicks his tongue and grabs your forearms to pull you up so you're standing in front of him again.
Still not saying a word, he tries so hard to appear stoic, but you can see the storm brewing within him. A sudden push to your shoulders causes you to stumble backward and land on Aemond's soft hotel bed.
“Let’s see how fucking wet you get from sucking off the man you hate”
His voice is both calm and taunting at once. His hands come up to the sides of your leggings, pulling them down with force, taking your underwear with them.
You know you’re wet, but you really don’t want him to know that.
You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
You try to press your legs together, but one of his large hands finds its place on your mound and cups it perfectly as one of his fingers slides down between your folds to meet the silky wetness there. The fact that his hand seems to fit against you perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, amplifies your desire. And rage.
“Having my balls in your mouth made you that wet, huh? Still so dirty, baby”, he teases, emphasis on the pet name to match your previous mock.
You let out a yelp as his hand briefly leaves you to land a quick smack on your exposed clit. His cocksure expression flashes by before he grabs your hips again to place you on your stomach, bare ass receiving a smack as well.
He works quickly, sitting down next to you on the bed and pulling you towards him. He places your middle on his lap, and lets his hand come down to land another smack on your asscheek.
His hand stays on your soft skin, lingering a bit longer than you’d anticipated, before travelling down between your thighs to meet your neglected centre.
“You like that too, don’t you?”, he asks as he catches your clit between his fingers and press harshly.
It stings.
It feels good.
You press your lips together to prevent any sounds from escaping, racking your brain for a way to gain back control.
Aemond’s fingers begin to draw firm circles and your mind starts to feel foggy from want. Without thinking, your hips begin to move in tandem with his fingers. He chuckles.
“I know you inside out”, he triumphs, but as you move your hips, you can feel how achingly hard he is beneath you.
You know him too.
You pull away from his lap, sitting back on your haunches on the bed, and remove your cardigan, then your tank top, and finally your bra.
You manage to startle Aemond by your sudden move, and you seize your chance at dominance by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down, so he lies on his back on the plush, white sheets of the hotel bed.
You straddle him, and move one hand down to pull down his sweatpants once again. Revealing his cock, you encircle him softly before placing his length between your folds, dragging your wetness all over him. You bite back a moan as his cock pushes on your clit again and again, hips move back and forward.
Aemond seems lost for words as well, undoubtedly enjoying you moving against him.
His seeing eye flickers wildly to take in your naked body, damaged eye not able to keep up with the rapid movements. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. You momentarily feel mesmerised by his beauty.
The realisation that you’ve missed seeing him like this, missed being with him like this, pierces your heart painfully and your hips still.
You don’t want to think about the sadness inside. You want to break him. Like he broke you.
Up until now, it’s been a constant fight for dominance; a never-ending back and forth. But you got him now.
“Beg me to fuck you”, you command, voice slightly out of breath. Aemond’s eyes are fixed on your heaving, naked chest.
“What?”, he questions, like he doesn’t understand what you’re asking.
“Beg”, you repeat, voice more demanding as your breathing calms,
“Beg me to fuck you, Aemond”
Though confusion had briefly flashed over his face, it’s now set in fury.
His eyes narrow.
Without answering you, he places one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist, manhandling your body down on his cock in one swift motion. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, much to Aemond’s satisfaction. He grins victoriously.
Fuck, it’s been so long.
He begins bucking up into you in an instance. The firm hold he has on your body feels bruising, and his fingers dig into your flesh meanly so that you won’t move.
He angles his hips, and each stroke touches your sweet spot. You bite down on your lip to hinder the moans that are fighting to escape. He’s essentially fucking you on his cock, and it feels so good you can’t think clearly anymore.
“Come on, I know you can’t keep quiet”
He pushes your body down harder, bucking his hips up faster. You can’t help but move with him, it feels so fucking good.
You’re still not going to come. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s gonna come.
You clench down on his length each time he slides in and you see the tension in his jaw; the vein bulging out at the side of his neck.
Maybe if you push him just a little bit further?
“Oh, Aemond”, you moan as you throw your head back, tightening your muscles again, gripping him like a vice.
He’s always loved getting praised.
The hand he’d placed on your shoulder moves to your throat, engulfing the entirety of it. His fingers press down on the sides,
“Shut up”
His grip tightens. The movement of your hips begin to falter as the restricted blood flow to your head amplifies your pleasure. You bite your lip harder not to moan.
He knows exactly how to get you.
He continues to fuck up into your dripping cunt, ignoring your change in pace. Each stroke of his cock within your walls feels like pure ecstasy; like sparks of sheer pleasure shooting through your body.
His expression is infuriatingly smug and you realise you must look completely blissed out as he uses your body.
You feel the familiar tightening in your lower stomach, the sign that your peak is approaching rapidly.
No no no, he can’t win!
You pull away from the grip he has on you, abruptly getting off him, internally mourning the pleasure you rob yourself of.
He needs to come. He needs to break first.
You sit next to where he’s lying on his back, hand moving down so that you can work his length again.
Aemond catches on to your scheme quickly and uses his strength to push you away, manhandling you so your face’s down in the mattress and ass exposed.
He pulls on one cheek, admiring your wet and wanting centre. When he shoves back inside with an exaggerated tut, you can’t take it anymore; the pleasure’s just too much.
His touch feels too good, no matter how harsh it is.
You try to push your face as far as possible into the bed, hoping Aemond can’t hear the moans you can’t contain any longer.
The loud smacks of his hips against your backside and the lewd, wet sounds coming from your cunt fill the room.
It’s so aggressively erotic.
One of his hands finds your clit and as he starts massaging it with vigour, his other hand moves towards your head.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back so you are facing him. The grip hurts; like a thousand little needles assaulting your scalp.
“You’re gonna come, I know it. Don’t you fucking dare not look me in the eye when you do”
You’re stuck in his painful grip, yet your orgasm’s racing towards you, making you clench down on his length and moan louder and louder, no longer able to hide the effect he has on you.
The hand in your hair moves down to grab your breast roughly, nipple pinched between his fingers. You find it hard to keep your body up as pleasure makes it feel like you're floating, but Aemond’s arms around you makes it impossible for you to move. His face moves to press against yours; cheek to cheek,
“When you sing your silly little songs about what a player I am, remember that no one else can make you feel as good as I do”
And you’re gone. The orgasm hits you so hard you almost black out. It makes your entire body jerk uncontrollably, and if Aemond hadn’t been holding you, you’d be on the floor.
He keeps fucking your through your orgasm, breathing heavily and grunting at the intense way your walls contract around him.
As the movements of his hips turn sloppy and frantic, you feel his face move to press between your shoulder blades, arms still holding you tightly, like he’s hugging you from behind.
Or trying to crush you.
You can’t decide which.
You stay like that for a few moments. The room is quiet, save for your shared heavy breathing. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity between the two of you and feel too exposed, regret storming inside you like in icy waves.
Shit, what have you done?
Aemond loosens his grip around you and lowers you down on the bed much gentler than how he’d touched you before.
You stay on your stomach, burying your face in the bed as you feel Aemond shuffle behind you, softly tracing a hand down your back before getting up and making his way towards the adjacent bathroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Hearing him turn on the faucet, you quickly get up from the bed.
You have to get out before he comes back.
You frantically look for your clothes, scattered all over the hotel room floor. Trying to be as quick as you can be feels impossible when your legs still feel far wobbly, and your mind way too fuzzy, to cooperate.
You hear Aemond turn off the faucet as you pull on your leggings and underwear. You can’t find your bra, and you don’t even bother looking for it before pulling on your tank top and cardigan hurriedly.
You just need to get away.
Away from Aemond.
You step into your slippers and dart out the front door as you hear him emerge from the bathroom.
Not patient enough to wait for the elevator, you head towards the emergency exit and climb the two stories up to your room.
As soon as you're inside, you toss the hotel card key on the desk by the window and throw yourself on the bed, body jolting from the force.
You want to cry.
You want to scream.
You want to go to sleep and realise this was all just a fucked up dream.
You reach for your phone on the nightstand, now fully charged and with a few messages from Alysanne, asking you how you are and if you’d gone to the cafe she’d recommended by Winterfell Central Station.
You press her name and the small telephone icon, hoping she’ll pick up.
“Hi honey, you okay?”, she answers, voice evidently concerned from your sudden call.
You usually stick to texting, or pre-scheduled face-time dates.
“I fucked up”, you say, barely above a whisper. You hope that she’ll know what happened without you actually having to say the words. You don’t want to speak it into existence.
“Did you kill him?”, she jokes and you let out a hollow laugh.
“Worse”, you say, and Alysanne sighs on the other end.
“Was it good?”, she asks after a long pause, making you let out another snort.
“What do I do now, Aly? I was just going to push him a little and now-”
“That’s your problem. You always want to get a reaction out of him. What happened to just focusing on yourself?”
Her words feel patronising, like you’re being scolded by your parents. Yet you know she is right. You stay silent and mentally search for a reply; any excuse for your behaviour.
“Yeah”, you sigh in resignation.
You know you fucked up; that you’ve acted childish and petty. Still, the satisfied afterglow of experiencing the best orgasm you’ve had in months leaves you feeling a bit less anxious.
Alysanne tries to distract you by asking about Winterfell, the tour, and what you’re planning on wearing for the big show tomorrow.
It feels good to talk to a friend without holding anything back. Even if you appreciate Helaena’s company immensely, you know she’s being pulled between you and Aemond, and you’d rather not add to her suffering.
As Aly tells you about the guy she went on a date with last night, your phone buzzes.
You briefly glance at your screen, ready to swipe the notification away, when you notice it’s an email from your solicitors office.
You say a quick goodbye to Aly, open the email and quickly scan through the overly formal text. Your eyes flicker over the screen, taking in what’s written.
…finalised…
…shared assets…
There’s a PDF at the bottom of the email. You click on it, seeing the document you’d left for Aemond in your flat over three months ago. The empty space you’d left next to your hurried signature is now filled in, reading;
Aemond Targaryen.
A/N: Thank you for reading 🫶 If you wonder about if he signed the papers right after she left his hotel room; it’s a pdf with his signature, I imagine he actually signed it before leaving for the tour and it just reached her solicitors now.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond fanfiction#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x you#rumours#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#modern aemond
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kinda curious about how the first time with stepdad!rafe be like
btw love your writing sm oml🤍
(Thank you sweetness! 🤭💕)
He had treated you to an entire day of shopping on the mainland, letting you get anything you wanted. From Sephora to Chanel, he spent it all on you. He had been buttering you up for the last few weeks, letting his gentlemen come out every second. You were naive, needing someone to guide you through your newly adult years.
He had made sure his wife wasn’t home that night, thanking this was a weekend she had went on a girl’s trip with her friends. He had even said yes to watching a movie with you in your bed, his goal to get his cock in you that same night.
“Hold your legs back for me.. yeah there you go.” Rafe’s voice low as he helped you bend your smooth thighs back. He had you nearly folded in half, pink pussy at the perfect angle for him to slide into. He saw your face, cheeks already flushed as you tried to shy away from him. As open to the idea of him teaching you what a real man should do, he also knew you were worried about your mother finding out. “Hey, look at me. Yeah?” He said, dick in hand as he slid it over your soaked folds.
You glanced at him, wispy lashes fluttering as your pretty lips opened in a small whimper. “I’m scared.” You whispered. You had only had sex once before and he wasn’t anywhere as big as Rafe. You also knew that this was wrong, but your naive self also had thing for strong male figures and wanting to completely devote yourself to them. Even if this one happened to be your stepfather.
Rafe’s hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your smooth skin as he stuck the tip near your entrance. “Don’t be scared sweetheart. I promise you it’s gonna feel good.” He whispered, slowly pushing himself in your tight cunt for the first time. “Yeah… daddy’s gonna make you a good little slut.” His blue eyes rolling back as your hot little cunt swallowed him.
Your mouth fell open, eyebrows squeezing together as you felt his fat length fill you up. You couldn't seem to say anything, words at a loss as he began to trust his toned hips. Your tummy fluttered, eyes glancing up at the handsome man above you.
Rafe let out a soft chuckle, eyes flashing dark as his messed up mine got off on the fact he had his dick buried up his step-daughter’s cunt. His thumb came down to rub your pearl, watching as you let out the prettiest moan he had ever heard. “You like that shit?” His voice rasped out to you.
All you could was nod your head, moans only growing louder the harder he went. The way your hips were angled had him hitting your hole at a brutal pace, your own parts betraying you as the sound of wetness filled the room.
He smirked, loving how he had you exactly where he wanted you. Wrapped around his finger to be a good cock slut. “Yeah… there you go. Take that dick up your princess cunt like a good girl.”
His nasty words, only make you wonder what else he had in store for you moving forward. The tiny voice in the back of your head, making your French nails tap his lower abdomen. “Rafey.. we sh-should stop.” You mumbled, struggling to cease the funny feeling that was growing in the pit of your belly.
Rafe looked at you, thrusts coming to a halt. He watched your eyes widen, glossy lips frowning despite you telling him to stop. “Why you fuckin crying for then when I slow down? Huh?” He asked eyebrow raised as he heard the whine come from your open mouth. “Better start using your big girl words or I will fuckin stop. You and I both know you don't want that baby.”
#rafe cameron#step!dad rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut
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https://www.tumblr.com/anadiasmount/766146994146295808/could-you-write-something-about-jude-realising
I loved the only jude pov idea so could you write something about jude telling his (and/or your) parents that he wants to marry you and he’s been thinking about it for a while and that he’s convinced you’re the love of his life and he will do anything he can to prove it to you every single day
this might be a little rough but hubby jude has my heart… 😕😕
“here’s your morning juice and vitamins, don’t forget we have a dinner tonight,” you half understood jude as he spoke quickly, he was late for training like usual, but he never left without saying goodbye. whether you were awake or not, a kiss on your cheek and he was gone for the day. though today seemed different, felt different but you brushed it off.
jude was running late to his appointment, he had no training today but you didn’t have to know that. he went to a small yet very popular jewelry store in downtown madrid, where he had picked out your dream engagement ring. he needed your friends help and they were more than willing to make that trip and helping out a nervous jude.
the ring was set to pick up, and he would ask for your parents blessing tonight when you visited them. you were oblivious, they were oblivious. only your friends and him knew about this. yet all he wanted was the scream that he was closer to marrying you. he had no doubt that you’d say yes. jude knew you wanted to get married, with him. you had drunkenly confessed after a night out and reminded him weeks later when you said your first “i love you’s”.
so jude was ready. you were ready.
you had graduated and landed your dream job. he considered you as his wife already. you knew him from the back of your hand but with jude, he wouldn’t fail to answer any questions related to you. whether it was from your favorite foods, to a movie, to a makeup product, to a favorite memory, he knew all of you. inside and out.
your friends had gasped and covered their mouth, eyes tearing up when jude showed them the ring. they all were in awe, jude especially since it was getting real for him. he couldn’t deny that feeling in his chest, getting choked up with his own emotions, knowing you were his forever home. the only home he wanted to be in, in this life and the other. “it’s absolutely gorgeous jude!” one of you friends reclaimed.
“our y/n is going to love it!” replied your other friend to while jude let out a breath of fresh air. “when do you plan to pop the question?” they asked, “after international break, we have a couple days together and i want to take her on a small getaway. but i want to get her parents blessings first, which we’re doing today because we’re going over,” jude nodded, hearing them let out a small squeal of excitement.
“look mom…” jude whispered, his dad sitting down next to her as jude pulled out the red velvet box from his back pocket. “is this what i think it is?” she gushed, opening the box gently, her hand resting against her chest as she admired the ring. “having this around me is so tempting you don’t understand. all i want is to ask her to marry me,” jude smiled, immediately thinking of you.
“i don’t even have to ask if you’re sure, your eyes and smile say it all,” his dad said making jude look at them. “we’re happy for you both. there’s no doubt in my mind that the two of you are made for each other. while marriage can be hard, it’s also the most beautiful thing that’s ever been created. she’s your soulmate, protect that forever,” his dad continued, standing up to give jude a hug. where he couldn’t contain his emotions.
“thank you guys for everything…”
on the way back, jude had picked up a few groceries and snacks for you. along with his bouquet of flowers since it was time to get a refresh. making sure to stock up on waters and different beverages as well.
after a while jude had returned back to your house, immediately looking to see where you were. “y/n? darling?” he asked, “in here! i’m in the study!” you yelled, meeting jude by the doorway where he engulfed you into his arms. “god i missed you so so much,” he murmured, smelling the sweet scent of your hair. you tippy toed and pressed a small kiss on his lips.
jude laughed at the small state you were in, hair in rollers, and he was guessing setting powder beneath your eyes and nose. “i’m almost done getting ready, i just had to quickly take a call because they needed me to give authorization for something. do you know what you’ll wear?” you say as you walked into the kitchen and drank water.
“yes i do…” jude couldn’t stop staring at you, that look he gave you full of love and respect. “i know i look funny but it’s just the powder,” you laughed, “stop! why are you looking at me like that!” you exclaimed walking over to where he sat. “because i love you, but you do look a little goofy with this on,” he joked feeling the playful slap on his shoulder. “go get ready! now before we catch traffic!” you said seriously while jude just nodded.
while jude anticipated to be nervous, he wasn’t. the sense of comfort yet worth filling his head. this was a huge deal, asking your parents for their blessing. but jude could radiate the answer from a mile away. the love you had together was so traditional and old school, the two of you loved that. it didn’t exist much these days, but the love you and jude had made everyone around you feel alive and happy.
as the night filled with laughs and talks of the past, you had taken over and helped your sister in law with the babies. jude knew this was his chance so he booked it, watching as you disappeared and went upstairs. “could i talk to you both?” he whispered seeing how their faces pulled into confusion but followed him either way. the three of them sat in the living room, jude pulling the ring back out from his back pocket.
“i’ve never in my life been so tempted to risk it all for a person. y/n is my person. my happiness. my home. my all in this world. i never knew if i’d find that. but with y/n it was a quick and undeniable feeling. i feel like i’ve known her my whole life. she knows me more than i know myself, and i knew she’s the one for me since she’s stood and sacrificed for our love…” jude said, your mother letting out a few tears as she looked at the ring.
“it would be an honor if i could have your blessing to marry your daughter. i promise you now i will take care of her forever. not just for marriage, but it’s because im giving you my word. because i love her with my entire heart…” jude asked shakily, knowing how much this meant to you and him. knowing this is just a step closer to finally having your happy ever after.
“you have my blessing jude,” your dad said, standing up and hugging him deeply, knowing there’s no hesitation because jude has never given them the reason. that he knows jude isn’t lying and will stick to his word. “yes you can marry my little girl,” your mother gushed going to jude and hugging him tighter, the two men laughing. “you did an amazing selection with the ring… she will love it,” she said.
“i’m willing to prove whatever it takes to show her how much i love her…” jude sealed. “what are you all doing without me,” you came back with a huge smile, joining your parents and boyfriend.
“i want in on whatever it is…”
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