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[nanivinsmoke]

Milky

the way I’ve been thinking about this man and i don’t even watch jjk, ughhh i love dilfs

husband!Toji x F!reader

summary: a month after you had your baby, you’re lactating and toji can’t help but to taste…

warnings: you already know that if it’s toji it’s gonna be nothing but FUCKING. we got lactation, creampie, nipple play and more! minors dni and i mean it!

your breasts were looking bigger than before and you had to thank your child for that. ever since you had got pregnant with your baby, your breasts have doubled in size. and after you gave birth they had gotten more full due to you producing milk. they had became more sensitive too, even the slightest brush against them would cause your supply to leak. even although you were hesitant about the change in your body, you had slowly grew to like it. you loved your stretch marks that were painted on your skin and the glow that stayed even after your pregnancy.

but, you weren’t the only one loving the change to your body. your husband couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he loved your pudge, the stretch marks that were all over your ass and most of all he loved your boobs. he made sure you felt loved during this time too and never judged your for how your body changed either.

the three of you were currently at your close friends house. they were throwing a barbecue and you decided this would be the perfect time for everyone to meet your newest edition. you were wearing a yellow sundress that accentuated your curves. you looked how you felt, beautiful. toji couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the whole time you guys were there either. every time you moved his eyes followed and he could feel himself harden when you leaned down to pick up your baby, which gave him a view of your full and perky breasts.

“damn toji. don’t pounce on her, she just had a baby!” gojo joked, catching his friend stare you down. toji chuckled and looked away, trying to make himself relax so his boner would go down. “when was the last time you guys had sex?” gojo wondered, having no filter with his question. well, that’s just how gojo was, blunt and nosy. Toji sighed and picked up his half empty beer bottle, sipping what was left, “we hadn’t. i didn’t want to do anything with her ever since she had the baby. i wanted her to enjoy being a mother before doing things with her.”

toji had respected and loved you so much. he loved that you carried the love that you two shared into the world and wanted to give you space once the baby came into the world. yes, he wanted to have you around his cock every single second, but he knew that this beginning stage was very crucial for you and he did not want to mess it up. “damn could you marry me too?” the white haired male joked earning an elbow from toji, before he got up to go get them more beers.

after handing your small child to their godfather, nanami, you made your way over to the cooler as well; needing a cool drink to help beat the sun’s rays. as you dipped down in the cooler another hand met yours and you looked up, meeting gojo’s blue eyes. you smiled and grabbed your drink, before he pulled you into a hug. but, when you feel the coolness of his drink accidentally sweep over your nipples, you immediately pulled away and held yourself as you knew what would follow next.

toji immediately noticed what happened and before he could even reach you, you quickly walked away and into the big house behind you. he quickly turned to gojo, anger over his face as he wondered what the hell did he do to his wife. “nothing! i swear” but little did he know that he actually did.

toji quickly followed behind you, searching the house until he found you in the bathroom, standing away from the door with the top of your dress pulled down. his dick hardened in his pants as he watched the white fluid leak from your breasts. you moaned softly as milk continued to spill out from your nipples and onto your glowy skin. your nipples were overly sensitive and due the coldness from gojo’s drink, it had caused them to rapidly leak.

hearing you moan and the sight in front of him was enough for him to take you right there. he closed the door behind him, startling you, but you softened when you saw that it was your husband. “toji~” you spoke but was cut short from a moan leaving your lips. he said nothing, walking over to you before he reached up and fondled your breast. this time you moaned louder, which made you bite your lip in response. he wasted no time and brought both of your leaking nipples into his mouth, sucking and swallowing the sweet milk that flowed out.

you were a little worried though, not about having enough milk for the baby, but about if you were ever going to stop leaking. the more toji swirled his tongue around your perky buttons, the closer your orgasm came. “baby…~” you breathed out, your hand latching onto his raven colored hair, letting him know that you were close. he fondled your boobs more while he continued to drink your lactation, nibbling softly on your nipples as your climax approached you. your eyes rolled back as you squeezed your thighs together, cumming right in your spot.

milk poured out more heavily and he drank every last bit as you rode out your explosive orgasm. a ‘pop’ sound echoed once he removed himself from your nipples, droplets of milk evident on the corners of his mouth which he happily licked up. “taste so sweet~” he whispered, pulling you into a kiss, letting you taste what you created. his hands reached around your lower back, pushing you into him causing you to feel his boner.

“look at how you got me….shit!” he groaned when he felt you palm his cock through his pants. you rubbed and massaged his cock, feeling it slightly twitch underneath his pants. he whimpered and parted his lips from yours, “please….”. you said nothing and instead grabbed one of his hands and slid it underneath your dress, with no panties he was able to feel how soaked you were. you were beyond ready. you pushed him to the closed toilet a few feet away, kicking off your dress and sandals before you hopped on his lap.

toji finally freed his boner from his pants, letting it’s thickness spring to life and his mushroom tip to almost his the top of your pussy. wasting no time, you angled it and slowly pushed him inside. he held your hips tightly, groaning from the sensation. it’s like after you had a baby you became even more tighter than before. but, he didn’t mind stretching you out again. once he was all the way inside, you slowly rolled your hips making his cock stretch you just the way it used to, his tip teasing your spot.

hearing you moan his name once more was a sign for him to start moving. he gripped your ass and brought his hips up each time you moved, making a suction sound go off while your skin met each other. “filling me up so much—missed this cock~” you said above a whisper, holding onto his shoulder for support as she began fucking you at a faster pace.

each time his balls hit the base of your cunt it sent flutters inside of you, making you clench tighter around him. “fuck—so f-fucking tight” he groaned and grabbed both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, bringing you down harder on his cock. you yelped out in response and collapsed on his chest while he drilled you harder. the more he fucked you the more harder it became for him to control himself.

he was fucking you so hard and deep, yet it felt so good. so fucking good that your breasts started to leak against him in response. the mirror in front of him showed him everything, the way your pussy clung to his cock and the way your slick started to stick and create cream made him go insane. “daddy, you’re so…..—deep~” he was on your spot each time he thrusted into you, making your orgasm come quicker and harder than before. his cock twitched inside of you, signaling that he was close behind.

you lifted up off of his chest and placed one of your boobs into his mouth, which he quickly latched onto, allowing him suck the milk that spewed out from your nipples. his pace got faster and he was now fucking you harder than before, you were surprised that the two of you didn’t break the toilet. “make me cum all over your cock—yes” you persuaded, looking down into his eyes and watching him drink up all of your milk.

the pit of your stomach exploded and washed all over your body, which resulted in you babbling his name as you came all over him. toji continued to fuck your cunt silly with his own orgasm right behind yours. and with a few more pumps he pushed your hips down, emptying his warm load inside of you. your milk drowned his tongue, spilling out the sides of his mouth and running down his face; your orgasm still as intense just like when you first started.

finally coming down from the the high, you pulled away from him, your breathing both in in sync with one another; as you stared at your husband with nothing but love. you needed this so badly and your body thanked him for it. he helped you stand up and get redressed, fixing himself up in the process before you two left the sex filled bathroom.

while the two of you walked back to the backyard where nanami and gojo were entertaining your baby, toji pulled you close and whispered into your ear “im going to put baby number two into you tonight”

[flemingology]

loving every curve ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: you learn to be intimate again with leah after your pregnancy

warnings: smut (18+), fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), dirty talk, language, post-pregnancy insecurities, body dysmorphia

wc: 4.9K

a/n: I was going to queue this for friday but I couldn't wait LOL. hope you all enjoy!

Pregnancy with Leah was a journey that you wouldn't trade for the world. You and your wife had been unsuccessful a couple times with the IVF journey, so when one day you received the good news, the both of you were on top of the world and couldn't wait to meet the little wonder that was going to be growing in your belly.

It was pure bliss, really. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Leah had stepped into a role that you'd never seen her take up before. She was a very caring person before, but she had stepped that up a notch. It came to a point where you even had to tell her to refrain a little, that you were more than capable of going to work and doing household chores in the first months of your pregnancy – Leah was reluctant to give in, but when she noticed after a few weeks that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the household chores compared with her busy footballing schedule, she gave in.

As the months passed, and you started experiencing the hardships of pregnancy, Leah was the perfect partner. She would be by your side every time you were heaving up your breakfast, wouldn't leave your side if you were feeling weak and would be experiencing blood sugar drops, she would accommodate to all of your cravings – meaning she would sometimes drive to the shop at 3am, eyes still full of sleep, but on a mission to get you pickles and mustard, because that was seemingly what your stomach made you crave that night.

One of the hardest things, though, that you didn't expect, was how wary you were of your body changing. The first couple months nothing visibly changed, not until you started showing. You and Leah loved the little bump in your stomach, a testament to the little life that was growing in your belly. But as the months passed and your stomach started to grow more and more, came the big visible changes on your body. You were well aware that you were going to put on weight and that your body wouldn't look the way it had before you grew pregnant, but you were still in your head about it.

The stretch marks, the bloated feeling, the swollenness – that accompanied with naturally heightened emotions, it wasn't nice. You knew that it was normal and that it was only happening because your body had to accommodate for the child that was growing inside of you, but you couldn't get it out of your head.

Leah reassured you every day that she thought you were beautiful, that you'd never looked this good throughout the 5 years of your relationship. She would tell you about the "pregnancy glow" all the time, and would claim that she'd fallen in love with you over and over again ever since you started to show.

You thought it was going to be better after you'd given birth, but the stretch marks and the loose skin didn't magically disappear – you had certainly hoped it would. You'd stuck to applying cream to your stretch marks throughout your whole pregnancy, so you knew the skin would form back to normal rather sooner than later, but you still found it hard to look at yourself in the mirror. The body you had worked so hard for over the last couple years was no longer there, and as much as you had a lovely little baby boy to show for it, you couldn't help but miss it.

It was Friday night, set date night for Leah and you. It was the first time since the birth of your son that the two of you would be going out for date night, rather than staying in. Amanda had taken him for the night, very excited about the prospect of her grandson staying with her for the first time.

You were in your bedroom, looking through the options in your wardrobe, struggling to pick out what to wear. Truthfully, you didn't know what you would even fit in, at this moment in time. You'd lost some of your pregnancy weight but certainly not all of it, and you weren't sure if you would fit into any of the dresses that you owned. You'd tried a couple, to no avail. You wanted to look good, look good for you and look good for your wife, who had been nothing but exceptional to you the past 9 months and more.

You heard a soft padding of footsteps up the stairs, Leah probably noticed that you had been in there for quite some time. She entered your bedroom and you couldn't help but feel remorseful when you shot her a look. She was clad in a straight black pair of trousers, combined with a white, sleeveless top. A very simple outfit, but she looked amazing. She had her hair down, a welcome change to the ponytail she always had it in.

"Hey baby, you good? Just checking, you've been in here for quite some time now," Leah said softly, body leaning against the doorframe. You shot her a defeated look. "I don't know, Le. Nothing fits me anymore, I don't know what to wear," you vaguely gestured towards your wardrobe. You nearly missed the pitiful look that crossed your girlfriend's face before she made her way over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, leaning her chin on your shoulder.

"What about that one," Leah proposed, pointing towards a yellow dress that she gifted you for your anniversary last year. "Tried, it's too tight on my thighs," you responded. She hummed, looking elsewhere. "The red one," she questioned, met with another shake of your head. "Nope, felt like it was suffocating me," Leah nodded, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "How about just a pair of jeans and a shirt then, hmm?"

"None of my jeans fit me, Le. Why do you think I've been walking around in sweatpants the past two weeks," you said, a slight hint of annoyance clear in your voice. "Okay, I'm sorry," she said softly, rubbing her hands over your stomach appreciatively. Before long, she turned you around in her grip, looking you into the eye.

"Would you rather stay home instead, chill on the couch and watch a film, that works for me too," Leah proposed. You casted your gaze down. That sounded perfect, but you didn't want to take this away from her and from you both. You knew how excited Leah had been for today, the day accentuated with a red circle on the calendar that hung in your home office. It'd been ages since the both of you spent some quality time outside the house, finally finding a vacant spot that you two wanted to make use of as best as possible.

She took your chin in between her thumb and index finger, slowly pushing your head back up. She placed one of her hands on the side of your face, rubbing your cheek affectionately. You braved a look at her, eyes slightly watery. "Are you sure," you questioned, but before you could express yourself further, Leah was already nodding. "I'm sure. All I want is to be with you, and I want you to be comfortable. We've got plenty of time together to go out for dinner, but if you'd rather stay in tonight, then we're staying in," she said, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. She wiped away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, pressing a soft kiss against the wet trail it had left behind.

"Come on, love, I'll change real quick and then we can get comfortable on the couch, hmm? I'll order us some food and then we can just enjoy a chill evening together, how's that sound," she said, her gaze still holding yours. You nodded, burying your face in the crook of her neck. "Perfect," you mumbled, earning an appreciative chuckle from your blonde lover who was rubbing her hands up and down your back affectionately.

A couple moments later you made your way downstairs, now dressed in a pair of fuzzy sweatpants and one of Leah's old Arsenal hoodies. You threw some of your softest blankets on the couch and made the both of you a cup of tea, that you were placing on the coffee table by the couch just as Leah came down too, having changed into something more forgiving than what she was wearing before.

"Mm, you read my mind," she said as she walked over, grabbing her mug from the table and taking a swig of her tea. "Just how I like it, thank you baby," she pressed a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away and ordering some food.

"Pizza sound good?", she asked. "Pizza sounds great."

Your night went on quietly, the two of you cuddled up on the couch watching a show you'd discovered together, eating your pizza and stealing kisses from each other now and then.

When the third episode you watched in a row was coming to an end, Leah shifted her body so you were now laying on top of her instead of between her legs. She looked you in the eye and pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, a soft, loving gaze looking over you. "I love you, baby. So much," she started. "I don't care if we're out eating at a fancy restaurant or ordering pizza and binge watching our show, as long as you're my company, I don't care what we do," she smiled, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your nose.

"You're the best, Le. Thank you for being so understanding. And thank you for being the best mum our baby boy could've wished for," at this, you could see Leah's eyes growing wet with unshed tears, forever emotionally affected when her son was mentioned. You grabbed her face in both hands and leaned in closer, pressing a firm kiss against her warm lips. She tasted salty, testament of a tear that managed to escape right before you leaned in.

Leah was the one who broke the kiss after a couple moments, you chasing her lips as you couldn't get enough of her. She chuckled before speaking up, "You're amazing. You carried this little human being inside your stomach for 9 months and then gave birth to it, bringing life to our son. I'm so proud of you and I'm way beyond amazed at what you did. You're wonderful, mama," the new nickname caused a tingle in your chest, but it also sent a shot of arousal somewhere deeper, something you didn't expect to happen.

Your breath hitched and you pulled back a little, cheeks flushing slightly red, to which Leah cocked an eyebrow at you. "Oh?", she questioned, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "That was an interesting reaction," she teased further, placing her hands on your thighs that were on each side of her body, now straddling her.

"Shut up," you said, throwing your head back and looking up at the ceiling. "I'll keep that one in mind," she said before pulling you back down to her, clasping her hands together at the back of your neck and pulling you into a heated kiss. Her lips were firm against yours, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip soon enough to ask for permission. You eagerly granted her that, opening your mouth to which you couldn't hold back a soft moan. Leah's tongue explored your mouth, kissing you with a fervor she hadn't for a while.

Truth be told, Leah and you hadn't really done anything like this since the birth of your son. You and your body were still exhausted from the pregnancy and as much as you wanted to be intimate with her, both the tiredness and the insecurity had held you both back. Leah had been patient, she had been incredible and hadn't pushed for anything. She knew you wanted to take things back up on your own accord and that's why she gave you space. But now, with her toned body beneath you, her hands roaming all over your upper body and her tongue licking into your mouth, you couldn't help but feel the arousal building between your legs.

"Le, please," you whimpered, sounding embarrassingly desperate after only a few minutes of kissing and wandering hands. She pulled away, a frown etched onto her face. "What's wrong, baby, are you okay?", she asked, worry laced into her voice. You grunted. "God, yeah, I'm more than okay. I-," you took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "I need you."

Leah's eyes widened slightly at your words, the look of surprise quickly changing into something else, a playful glint now appearing in her eyes. "Yeah? You sure?", she asked, more out of politeness than actual concern, her hands already starting to wander up your chest, inching closer towards your breasts.

Leah had always been more of a boob than bum girl, and safe to say she was devastated to learn throughout your pregnancy that any of her touches in that area caused you to wince due to the sensitivity of them.

You nodded sheepishly, closing your eyes when you felt Leah's hands grazing your boobs. Despite still clothed, you could feel goosebumps starting to form across your back, your body clearly affected by the slightest of touches provided by the woman tucked underneath you.

"Let's go upstairs, you might be a bit more comfortable", Leah said as she pulled her hands away from you. You knew she was only being mindful of you and your body, but truth be told – you couldn't care less now. You needed her and you needed her now.

You grumbled in response, leaning your head down into the juncture between Leah's shoulders and neck, starting to roll your hips against hers. You heard how Leah's breath hitched, fingers digging into your hips at the sensation. "Needy, huh?", she teased, to which you sunk your teeth into her neck, pulling a hiss out of your girlfriend before soothing the sing with a languid lick of your tongue.

"God, I missed you," Leah whimpered. "I missed this and I missed you, I missed the feeling of your body on top of me," she continued, her words clearly affecting you as you could feel the arousal between your legs growing. Before long, Leah sat the two of you up straight before sliding from underneath you, throwing her legs over the edge of the couch and getting up. "I was serious when I told you I wanted to go upstairs, baby," she smirked, holding her hands out for you to take, hoisting you up from the couch and leading the two of you upstairs to your bedroom.

As much as the touches were hungry and fleeting downstairs on the couch, the air had changed now. Leah's actions were slow, deliberate, calculated. Like she had planned this out weeks ago, like she knew exactly what she wanted to do to have you unraveling underneath her touch.

She closed the door behind you and was back onto you within a moment, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing down the nape of your neck, licking a couple stripes from your upper back up until your ear, softly nipping on your earlobe which caused a low moan to fall from your lips.

You moved your arms behind you, steading yourselves by grabbing Leah's thighs. She continued her ministrations, kissing and licking across all your sensitive spots – she hadn't forgotten anything about how to properly please you. She still knew your body like the back of her hand; knew where to kiss, knew where to lick, knew where to touch.

But just in a second, the vibe hanging between the two of you had flipped completely. Leah manoeuvred the two of you towards the bed, but whilst doing so you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't long, but it brought the insecurities back from a couple hours ago that Leah had meticulously been working away.

Whereas you had been leaning into your girlfriend's touches and affection, you were now subtly pulling away, not trying to make it too obvious what was happening. You didn't want to get in your head about this. You wanted to enjoy this moment. You needed this, really. But you couldn't keep the thoughts at bay, and they were consuming your brain. You became too aware of your skin under Leah's fingertips, and you held a hand to her chest just before she could push you down onto the mattress.

Leah thought you needed a break for some air, but when you leaned your head down against her chest, she knew this was more than that. You couldn't see, but you knew a concerned frown would be etched onto your girlfriend's face. You felt bad, too. Downstairs, you had seen how excited she got when you told her you needed her – the twinkle in her eye gave everything away. One of your hands fisted Leah's shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself while your thoughts were running rampant around your head.

"Hey, hey, baby are you okay?", Leah tried, slowly coaxing your head away from her chest and pushing it back to eye-level. "Did I do anything wrong, did I hurt you?", you could hear how her voice was filled with concern, clearly thinking she was the one that caused you to want to take a step back.

"No, Le. It's not you," you took a deep breath. "It's me," you looked her in the eyes and continued speaking. "I'm just so self-conscious of my body and I don't know if I want you to see it like this," you took her hand in yours and played with her fingers. "I know you've seen it before, and you've definitely seen it since pregnancy, but not in this situation. And it's just got me in my head," you finished, the feeling of embarrassment not letting you go just yet.

Leah breathed out a sigh of relief before she moved around you, sitting down on the bed and patting her thighs, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You followed her instructions, sitting sideways on her lap, your arms around her neck. She gave you a second to get comfortable before she spoke. "You're beautiful, baby. I know these may be empty words but I promise you that I mean it. Your body is the living proof of the little boy you brought to life – that's an incredible achievement."

She held your gaze, trying to get through to you. "This, right here," she pointed between you and her. "is more than just based on pure bodily attraction. Yes, I still find you incredibly attractive. If anything, I find you more attractive than I did before your pregnancy, but I'm also just so in love with you. And that's not just based on how you look or how you feel beneath me, that's about you. You as a person, as a friend, as a lover and especially as a mother. I want to make love to you because you're you, not because you have a toned abdomen or because you have a bicep bulge." Leah held your face between her hands and pulled you closer to her, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. "Now, if you let me, let me show you just how much I love you, please."

You rested your forehead against her and exhaled deeply, affected by Leah's words. You gathered your thoughts and looked up at her, giving her a slight nod. She smiled. "I'll be gentle, I promise," you reciprocated her smile and leaned back in to her, softly pressing your lips against hers.

A couple moments later Leah shifted the two of you so you were now underneath her instead of on your lap, and brought you up the bed so you were resting comfortably against the pillows. "Good?", she questioned, you bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, perfect."

Leah positioned her body on top of you, careful not to rest any weight on you. She placed her thighs on either side of your hips, leaning her head down and starting all over again. She pressed kisses against your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jawline and eventually started moving down your body. Her hands wandered all over your clothed upper body, causing goosebumps to form over your skin.

"Can I take this off, love?", Leah questioned, looking you in the eye as she was playing with the hem of your hoodie. You slightly nodded, but your girlfriend didn't seem satisfied with the lack of response. "I'm gonna need words, baby," she continued, to which you verbally responded yes. "Good girl," she said quietly under her breath, but you caught it and you felt a jolt of arousal course through your body.

She took off your hoodie, revealing your upper body that was only covered by a bra now. "This too?", she asked, to which you seemed a bit more hesitant. "We can leave it on too, I don't mind," she reassured you, but you knew you'd have to get over it anyway. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You trusted her. She loved you and you knew that. "No, it's fine. Go ahead, please," you said.

Leah put an arm around your back and helped you up, unclasping your bra with the other hand – she couldn't conceal the smug grin growing on her face as she expertly removed your bra with one hand. "Still got it, huh," she teased, followed by you rolling your eyes and laying back against the pillows. "Shut it, Williamson."

Leah let her gaze fall to your chest, and she took a deep breath. "God, you're beautiful," she said, before leaning in closer. She seemed a little hesitant to connect her lips to your nipple, but any insecurity melted away once you tangled one of your hands into her blonde locks and tugged her against you.

A heady moan fell from your lips when Leah's warm mouth enveloped your nipple, the other one being rolled between her thumb and index finger. Her tongue flicked over the sensitive peak and you felt yourself involuntarily bucking into her. "Fuck, Le, that feels so good. I missed you," Leah hummed against you, the vibrations against your chest sending jolts of pleasure down to your core.

She let your nipple go with a pop and turned her attention to the other one, expertly sucking and flicking the nub until she felt she had adequately teased you. She came back up, lowering her body down on the bed as her head now rested on your stomach. "Can I take your sweats off, baby?", she asked, still mindful of getting consent from you for every thing she did. You appreciated it, but you'd come to a point where you just wanted her to get over with it. "Yes, Le, please," you whimpered. In other situations you would probably be embarrassed at how desperate your voice sounded, but you couldn't care less now.

Leah understood the need in your voice, and took both your sweatpants and underwear off in one swift movement. "So gorgeous," Leah mumbled under her breath. She came back up your body and leaned her head against the inside of your thigh, slowly pushing the other one open with her hand. "Still okay?", she asked. "More than okay, Le. Please, I need you. Really need you," you grumbled.

Leah took the hint and wasted no more time in getting down to it, burying her face into your heat and licking a long stripe from your entrance up until your clit. You let out a loud moan at the sensation, core already sensitive from how long it had been since you had been touched like that. "Fuck, Leah, just like that," you managed to get out, hands covering your eyes as you were overwhelmed by how good it felt.

Leah sucked, licked, kissed expertly, making sure not a single part of your pussy was left untouched. She shuffled between your legs and made place for her arm, two of her fingers now teasing your entrance as she was sucking on the sensitive, swollen bud of nerves sitting proudly at the top of your folds.

You could tell she was teasing you, fingers ever so slightly dipping in but pulling out before you could even properly feel it. You bucked your hips into her, trying to get some friction from her fingers. Leah chuckled and before you could register it, she inserted her fingers into you completely, the two of you moaning at the feeling.

"Oh, fuck," your breath hitched in your throat when Leah pulled back out, before pushing her fingers inside again. "Fuck, baby, that's so good. You feel so good inside of me," you continued, before a particularly good thrust of your fingers caused you to let out another wanton moan.

"You're so tight, love. I can tell it's been a while, you feel so good. I love making you feel good and I love seeing the faces you make while I'm fucking you," Leah had always been more on the vocal side during sex and you absolutely loved it, especially in moments like these where you needed a little more reassurance. Leah kept pumping her fingers in and out of you, not letting up by any means when she heard your moans grow higher in pitch.

"You're gonna make me cum, Le, please don't stop," you said, the ever so familiar sensation growing in your stomach. "Tell me you're beautiful," Leah said. Your eyes flew open and a confused frown etched onto your face, trying to process her words while she was still slamming into you with fervor. "I said, tell me you look beautiful. I'm not letting you cum before you tell me you look beautiful," she continued, sounding very determined.

You threw your head back and grunted, trying your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay – not the easiest of tasks with Leah going back to sucking your clit. "Please, Le," you pleaded, wanting nothing more than to release all the tension that was building up in your body.

Leah hummed against you in disapproval before detaching her mouth from your core. "It's easy, darling. Just tell me you're beautiful."

You grumbled, "fuck, I'm beautiful," you said, hoping she would finally let you cum now.

"Again," Leah said, speeding up her thrusts a bit more while looking you in the eyes. "Tell me again. Look me in my eyes and tell me again."

"I'm beautiful," you said again, tears welling up in your eyes with the intensity of pleasure that was coursing through your veins.

"One more time. Tell me one more time and I'll let you cum," Leah mumbled under her breath, before dipping her head back into your core, nuzzling herself deep, licking up and down your slit as she kept fingering you.

"I'm beautiful," you yelled, before you felt Leah give a tight squeeze against your thigh, signaling you that you were allowed to cum. Within seconds the coil in your belly snapped, overwhelming your body with pure pleasure. Your back arched off the bed, Leah trying to keep you in place to help you ride out your high – her fingers still pumping in and out of you, now with less intensity than before. You let out a long, low moan when you came down from your orgasm, your body falling back against the pillows – spent.

You chuckled and looked down at your girlfriend, who was wearing a smug smile as she leaned her face against your inner thigh. "You're insatiable, Le", you said, before she slowly pulled her fingers out of your core, to which you hissed – a feeling of emptiness overcoming your senses. She made sure you were watching her as she sucked her digits off one by one, swallowing every last drop of cum you had left on her fingers.

You threw your head back and groaned, feeling a new spike of arousal go down to your core as you watched her sensually bob her mouth up and down her fingers. She came back up after a while, letting you catch your breath for a little while longer before she spoke.

"You really are beautiful, baby. And I love you so incredibly much. I'm proud of you. Thank you for allowing me to do this," you opened your eyes and caught her gaze just as she finished speaking. You leant in and pressed a passionate kiss against her lips, pouring every single ounce of love and adoration you had for the woman next to you into the kiss. "Thank you for doing this. I needed it more than I thought I did. Thank you for being patient," you finished.

"Glad I could make you feel good, mama," she quipped back, a teasing glint in her eye at the use of a nickname she knew you liked, a revelation she only discovered a couple hours ago.

Before long, she found yourself on top of you again and you went at it for a second round, and a third. And maybe, after a warm shower together, even a fourth.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Heartbeats

started watching xmen '97 and seeing logan standing in the doorway of jean's hospital room, watching jean and scott be happy parents together, gave me parasites like you wouldn't BELIEVE. enjoy the tender, calm moment shared between you and logan after giving birth

Ship: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Wordcount: 522

Warnings: birth, pregnancy, hospital visit, and hoLY SHIT I'M CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE

The steady beat of a heart rate monitor was the only sound that filled the calm silence. Smooth, even, computerized beeps that tracked your pulse, consistently relaxed in their beat. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Logan breathed a content sigh into the crown of your head, stirring the hair he had brushed not two hours ago. The strands were tangled loosely in his beard and tickled along his chin. He smoothed his palm along your bare arm. Rough calluses passing over once sweat-soaked skin.

You stirred slightly against his flannel-clad chest. Shoulders, clothed in a hospital gown, burrowed against him. He could practically feel the groan of your sore muscles under your skin. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breath breezing across the stubble under Logan’s jaw.

He let his eyes fall open. Dimmed fluorescent lights bathed the hospital room in a dull, white glow. Shiny linoleum floors reflected the rising sun streaking through the wall-length windows. Vases of flowers, all your favorite kind and color, sat on the windowsill, petals practically glowing in the sunrise.

The TV nestled in the upper hand corner of the room was still on. Blessedly silent, as Logan had muted it once you’d fallen asleep, yet still playing a collection of your favorite movies on repeat. He chuckled quietly while remembering how insistent Jean had been about getting the nurses to play the discs she’d shoved into their hands.

Logan’s gaze shifted from scanning around the room to the bundle you held to your chest. A thick, heavenly soft hospital blanket was bunched in stripes of blue and green. The cloth rose and fell with your deep breathing.

Tucked away inside the blanket cocoon was the result of the fifteen hour labor you’d just endured. Eyes too big for her tiny head squeezed shut, small hands tucked against her chest under the swaddle, mop of dark curls brushed along her scalp. Quick heartbeats pumped life through her bite-sized body.

April Saige Howlett. Born at seven pounds, ten ounces. All the fingers and toes a baby could need just where they should be. Completely healthy, with bright, hazel eyes set under a deep brow bone. 

A warm hum rumbled in Logan’s chest. The two people most important to him were cradled in his arms. You, his exhausted wife, and April, his newborn daughter.

Daughter.

The word sounded foreign to him. 

Not once had he ever imagined this kind of happiness for himself. Never would have pictured himself propped up in your hospital bed, chin resting on your head, arms embracing the love, now loves, of his life. Steady beeps coming from the heart rate monitor, flashes of bright colors on the TV, the calming scent of dozens of flowers floating in the air.

He pressed a soft kiss into your hair. Warmth bloomed in his chest like a blossoming rose. Petals of light and peace drifting through his blood, leaving him utterly enraptured by the world held in his arms.

Logan closed his eyes, cheek resting on the top of your head, as he let himself drift off into the first tranquil sleep of his long life.

i'm crying now

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[p0orbaby]

Two in a Million

summary: you never thought you could love anything, or anyone, more

warnings: hospital setting, brief mention of some birth stuff

a/n: based on the cutest request

word count: 1.7k

-

Alessia is sitting in the corner of the hospital room, cradling a bundle that barely seems big enough to be real, and you’re wondering if it’s possible for a person to spontaneously combust from overwhelming, inconvenient levels of affection. It’s nearly midnight, and you’re both exhausted. She’s in this awful grey armchair that doesn’t look like it should belong in a maternity ward, but rather in an outdated office where everyone’s still doing things on paper. A flickering bulb above the chair gives the room a kind of low-rent horror movie ambience, but Alessia, hair pulled back in a messy knot and skin glowing with a sheen of sweat and exhaustion, somehow looks like she’s modelling knitwear for a Christmas catalogue.

The baby—your baby—is swaddled in a white hospital-issued blanket with a generic, utilitarian blue stripe, looking like a little bean bag that’s somehow fallen into her arms. She’s talking to it in that soft, breathless way that you didn’t even know she was capable of. The timbre of her voice is hushed and calm, like she’s afraid the baby might vanish if she speaks at a normal volume, or start screaming again, which you’ve already learned happens with the slightest provocation. It’s ludicrous, really. Alessia’s got a newborn in her arms, a tiny person whose existence just became official eight hours ago, and there’s something about it—her—the whole scene that makes your throat tighten and your chest swell with a feeling you can’t quite define but will probably overanalyse at three in the morning when Alessia’s asleep and you’re up Googling “how to stop obsessing over your own wife.”

You’re still in the hospital bed, wearing a gown that feels like it’s made from sandpaper and regrets. Your legs are aching, though for different reasons now. The baby had been a swift arrival, an early goal in the first half, but with enough of a dramatic finish that you’re already bracing yourself for when Alessia’s friends inevitably compare it to her scoring against Sweden. There’d been shouting, gripping the edges of the bed, Alessia almost crying, and then—everything seemed to go still, at least in your memory. Now you’re here, facing the surreal aftermath, and Alessia is behaving like she’s been holding babies since she was two, all natural and maternal in a way that is both endearing and, if you’re honest, a little unfair.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks, glancing up from the baby’s barely-there face with her gaze too earnest, and too concerned, because this is Alessia, who plays for Arsenal and has been to World Cups, and yet when it comes to you, she always looks like she’s not quite sure how to fix things.

“Fine,” you say. You’re not fine. Your whole body hurts, your hair is still sticking to your forehead, and you’re fairly sure you’ll never sleep again. But she’s looking at you with the baby still nestled in her arms, and you’d rather drop dead than say anything that might make her worry right now.

Alessia smiles faintly. “Liar”

“Shut up. I’m enjoying the view”

And you are. She’s wearing the t-shirt she threw on at two in the morning when your waters broke—a white one with faded print of some bar in Ibiza that you both went to on a holiday five years ago, when everything was tan lines and free drinks and an overwhelming sense that your whole life would be one, endless summer. There are little details that rush back to you when you see that shirt: the way Alessia had tried to convince you to go skinny-dipping at three in the morning; the taste of tequila on her lips when you finally pulled her away from the bar; the sickening realisation, two weeks after you got back to London, that you never actually wanted to live without her.

You’ve become fixated on the way her hand cups the back of the baby’s head, as if she’s afraid that at any moment it might just float away, like a helium balloon. She hasn’t stopped staring at it since the nurse handed it over, which makes you wonder if there’s some kind of brainwashing involved, because you’ve seen her focus on a football before and she wasn’t this intense. She’s watching it breathe, which you suppose you should be doing too, but instead, you’re thinking about the shape of her mouth as she talks to it—small, slow movements, like she’s enunciating every word for the first time.

You half-laugh, half-sigh, trying to shift your weight in the bed without accidentally setting off some kind of alarm. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve gone soft”

Alessia looks up, a spark of mischief in her eye, because she knows exactly what you’re doing. “You should talk,” she says. “I heard you crying during labour”

“I wasn’t crying, I was pushing,” you argue, even though you were crying, and you both know it. “That was a push noise”

“A push noise,” she repeats, one eyebrow lifting. “Like a kettle”

“Like a warrior”

“A warrior who sounded suspiciously like she was going to ask for gas and air three times in a row,” she says, and you’re about to reply when the baby makes a sound—an indistinct sort of whimper that cuts through your bickering like a referee’s whistle.

You both freeze, your eyes locking on the tiny human, who has yet to fully open their eyes or make any indication of having a personality. But still, the room falls into that same unnatural stillness that seems to accompany the presence of a baby, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you should even breathe too loudly. Alessia is holding it—him—closer now, rocking him with a rhythm that is suspiciously perfect, as if she’s been practising in secret all these years. You wouldn’t put it past her. She’s probably been sneaking into maternity wards for extra training sessions after practice.

“He’s—perfect,” Alessia whispers, her voice softening as though she’s confiding in you some great, earth-shattering secret.

You stare at her, and then at the baby. “You say that now,” you mutter. “Wait until he starts throwing tantrums”

Alessia laughs, and it’s this little breathy thing that makes you want to do something reckless, like kiss her, or propose all over again, or tattoo her name across your forehead. You’re a mess. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s just Alessia, who’s always been able to unravel you with nothing but the curve of her smile or the tilt of her head.

She looks down at the baby again, and you notice for the first time that her hands are trembling slightly, just a barely-there tremor that only you would recognise, because you know her in ways that no one else does, not even Ella, who’s still texting you memes about Arsenal’s latest loss. There’s something almost comically endearing about Alessia sitting there, trying so hard to hold it together, while holding a baby that weighs less than a football and smells faintly of baby powder and something else—something sweet, and soft, and human.

You find yourself thinking back to that night in Ibiza again, when Alessia had told you, in a drunken slur, that she wanted to have kids with you someday. You’d laughed, not because you didn’t believe her, but because the thought seemed so insane, so far away from the lives you were living then. It was all sunburns and sandy sheets, overpriced rental cars and bad pop songs; the idea of a baby, of this, was a fantasy you didn’t know how to hold on to.

And now he’s here, eight hours old, and Alessia is looking at him like she’s never looked at anything before. Not the football pitch, not you, not even the last slice of pizza on a hungover Sunday morning. It’s like she’s seeing the world for the first time, and you’re seeing her see it, and the whole thing makes you feel like you’re floating just above the surface of the room, hovering somewhere between disbelief and a kind of maddening love.

You clear your throat. “Alessia?”

She looks up, startled, like she’d forgotten you were even there. “Yeah?”

“Don’t drop him,” you say, and you’re half-joking, half-serious, because you’re still getting used to the idea that this is your life now—a life where Alessia Russo is holding your son, and you’re trying not to pass out from the sheer, outrageous joy of it all.

“Please,” she scoffs, but there’s a glimmer of anxiety in her eyes, just enough to make you smile. “I’ve got it”

And you believe her, because she’s Alessia, and if there’s one thing she’s never done, it’s let you down. Even if there was that one time in Paris with the mix-up at the airport and the missed flight, but that’s a story for another time.

For now, you’re content to watch as she carefully places the baby in the small, plastic crib beside your bed, and you realise, with a sudden and startling clarity, that you’re not scared anymore. Or at least, not scared in the way you thought you’d be. It’s more of an excited kind of fear, the kind that prickles at the edges of your consciousness and makes you want to grab Alessia’s hand and run, just for the thrill of it.

She straightens up, stretching her arms above her head, and you notice that her t-shirt is still riding up slightly, exposing a strip of skin that you’ve kissed a thousand times but which still feels like uncharted territory now, because everything feels new, like a fresh coat of paint on a familiar wall.

“Hey,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Come here”

She does, and you pull her close, ignoring the ache in your legs, and kiss her like it’s still that night in Ibiza and nothing else matters except the taste of salt on her lips and the way she laughs when you tell her you love her. She pulls back, her forehead resting against yours, and you can feel the dampness of her breath on your cheek.

“We did it,” she whispers, and there’s a kind of wonder in her voice that you haven’t heard in a long time.

“Yeah,” you say, your eyes drifting towards the baby, who’s sleeping now, as though nothing in the world could ever disturb him. “We really did”

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐦í𝐚

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: kissing, SMUT, PIV sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy sex, nipple play, cum play. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re not the only one experiencing cravings during your pregnancy.

It was the first time Miguel came home to see you in a summer dress during your third trimester. You would usually wear sweatpants paired with a tank top or a t-shirt that would always be too big for you, in an attempt to hide your growing belly.

But now Miguel could see every curve and crevice of you. The dress reached upto your knees with the thin cotton adorned with floral prints, hugged the shape of your body. But the real charm was the ribbon that was added around the waist that accentuated your blossoming bump.

He watched as you bent over the counter top, the fabric tightened as you stretched further and struggled to reach the edge with the wet cloth to wipe down the surface. You huffed while resting your palm on your stomach, a thin film of sweat coated your face, making you glow under the warm kitchen lighting.

After a moment, Miguel finally drew himself closer to you, his hands gently gliding over the soft fabric of your dress as he placed them on your waist. You hummed inquisitively, acknowledging his presence. The faint smell of disinfectant and soap lingered from your skin as your eye bore up onto his.

“¿Qué pasa, amor?” It was easy for him to get lost in the sweetness of your voice, especially hearing you talk in Spanish. Even hearing you curse angrily, the feistiness with the edge you’d carry in your tone was still attractive. He could already see you after giving birth to his child, after hours of labor and pain and you’d still mumble soft words of affection to your baby’s ear that cradled in your arms.

“Your dress.” He simply replied back, his hand trailing up to reach the spaghetti straps that rested on your shoulder, looping his finger beneath the string.

“You like it? I thought I’d treat myself to one of the dresses from the maternity clothes section today.” You seemed unaware on how radiant you looked right now, especially with your bare arms catching a kiss of the setting sun.

“It’s phenomenal on you.” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear with his soft exhales ghosting over your soft neck. He knew by the shift in your gaze, his compliment didn’t reach you completely. He turned you around so you finally faced him, his hands on your belly.

The impending arrival of your child has brought with it subtle signs of motherhood and visible changes in your body. The stretch marks that accommodated the growing belly, the ever-present sheens of sweat and the swelling of your feet that made it hard to walk sometimes - these were all part of your everyday reality until the big day arrived.

Although you were both amazed by the life growing within you, you couldn’t help but feel unattractive which Miguel wasn’t surprised by. You were never obsessed with your appearance but these changes were bound to make you feel a little more self-conscious. However, the dress you were wearing was a hopeful sign.

Miguel found the connection you shared more profound now more than ever and he continued to remind you that you were carrying his child which made you more beautiful to him as well as the journey you were sharing.

He hooked his finger under the strap again, this time dragging it down your shoulders until the top of the dress hung loosely over your breast and did the same on the other side.

��Miguel…” you breathed but it sounded distant and it didn't fully register in his mind. His focus was solely on the straps that fell completely off both arms, the dress slipped off the top now exposing your breasts. Watching them grow along with your belly made Miguel’s libido flare.

Carefully, he cupped his hand over one, grazing his thumb over the hardened nipple. He knew you were more sensitive now so he handled your chest with care. The barest touch would have you whimpering. He heard your groans as he kept fondling with your breast, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Gentle.

He watched your dress loosely cling over your swollen stomach. He knew it wasn’t going to fall to the floor so he tugged the fabric and pulled it over your head before he lifted your bare body on the countertop.

“¡Ay Miguel! Not here. I just cleaned the counter.” You scolded lightly, but the grip you had on his biceps contradicted your protest. You wanted it as much as he did.

“I’ll clean up the mess after. Just let me have you now.” He was already tugging your undies, feeling the pool of your arousal staining the fabric.

“You’re unbelievably needy, you know that?” You watched him as he kneeled down to reach your cunt, your belly now blocking your view.

“I don’t see you complaining, querida.” He purposely breathed heavily over your clenching cunt, making sure you felt the hot air from his mouth in an attempt to tease you. Your hand feebly reached around to his hair, running your fingers over his locks in a silent plea to continue. Your other hand leaned against the counter behind you.

His tongue ran over your folds before reaching your swollen clit. He attached his mouth and started sucking on the sensitive bud, keeping a firm grip on your thighs. You tasted different now compared to when he ate you out before he knocked you up. Slightly sweeter than before. He could feel you tugging on his lock and attempting to pull him in closer to your cunt. But he was more firm and he wanted to take his time with you.

As he pulled away, a few strings of saliva were connected from your fold to his lips that he quickly wiped away. His cock was painfully hard behind his digital suit and he was sure you already noticed.

With a few taps on his watch, his suit disengaged, each pixel fizzled out in cobweb shapes.

Both your elbows rested on the counter as you locked your gaze onto him. He loomed over you, hands on the counter and leaning in before his lips found yours. The kiss was soft and sweet but carried a depth of emotions. He felt your swollen belly press against his torso as he leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. Breaking away from your lips, his gaze fixated on you as he brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

So soft.

He held onto your waist and pulled you in until his cock was inches from your cunt. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip and twitching in anticipation. Slowly, he pushed himself in and felt your walls caress each inch of him. You were already throwing your head back, one hand gripping onto his arm to steady yourself.

He could feel every pulse from his cock rubbing against your silky walls and flesh, squeezing him just right. Your body swayed helplessly over the countertop, taking in every thrust from his hips. He groaned as he was lost in a haze, completely aroused by how your wet cunt was pulling him back in greedily with each withdrawal.

Finally with his peak crawling up to him, he made sure he reached in deep, but not too much that he’ll hurt you. He felt a sudden rush from his cock as his seeds spilled inside of your swollen womb, reaching every crevice and coating your walls.

With a shaky breath, he pulled out of your dripping hole. As expected, his seeds didn’t stick, instead leaked out of your folds, spilling onto the counter. The post-nut clarity he was experiencing nearly made him forget his promise of cleaning up his mess.

“See why it wasn’t a good idea fucking me on the counter.” You quipped, smearing your fingers over his cum that continued to spill from your folds. Miguel groaned, his senses were coming back to him now and he could feel the newfound frustration settling in.

“Cállate.” He mumbled while grabbing the wet wipes from the shelf. “You’re lucky I had to be gentle with you, amor” he lowered himself and kissed your thigh before cleaning up the surface.

“Next time, we’ll stick to the bed.”

[lumosandnoxwriting]

look at you || Fred Weasley

Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.  A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans. 

The away games are always the hardest. 

Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away. 

She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed. 

Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again. 

But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April. 

Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment. 

It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins. 

And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started. 

She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day. 

Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone. 

Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is. 

Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear. 

She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now. 

“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear. 

Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

-

Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife. 

He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs. 

“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up. 

“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers. 

Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her. 

“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”

Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her. 

“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?” 

“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”

And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully. 

Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.  

“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife. 

“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”

“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?” 

Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him. 

“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”

Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs. 

“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”

He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.

Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down. 

He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment. 

“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him. 

“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child? 

Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 

“No, the jersey stays on.”

Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”

Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been. 

One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already. 

“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”

“With my baby or my cock?” he teases. 

“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.

“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”

Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking. 

“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”

“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock. 

“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”

The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves. 

The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt. 

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much. 

Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs. 

He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor. 

“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”

[richarlotte]

What did you do/use for your facial beauty glow up?

Lip Filler.

I have 1.5 mL of lip filler at the moment and probably won’t get more any time soon. In my mind, it’s the perfect amount; it gives my lips a delicious, just bitten look, and it doesn’t look or feel unnatural. I’m someone who loves subtle changes; I’m not the sort of girl who’d go crazy with surgery, and I prefer to make my changes slowly. I started with .5 mL, slowly went up to 1.5 mL over the course of two more appointments, and I think plumping my lips up completely changed my lower face and made me look younger and more feminine.

Polynucleotide Injections.

This treatment is major in South Korea; it’s very popular, and one of my best friends went and came back singing its praises. After weight loss, this is the most important thing I have ever done for myself. These injections boosted my collagen production and made the terrible dark circles and puffiness under my eyes disappear. It took a few weeks for me to see the results, but I look like I’ve had an upper and lower blepharoplasty now; my eye area is completely rejuvenated and the skin is bright, and while my initial reaction to the set of treatments I had was intense, the end result was better than I could’ve ever hoped for.

A Comprehensive Skincare Routine.

The skin is the body’s largest organ, and the first step to learning how to care for it is understanding that you and it must be hydrated. Learning that what I put into my body was just as important as what I put onto my skin helped me change my approach to skincare. I mostly use French, Korean, and medical-grade skincare products, and I switch them out each season so that I can approach my needs correctly. Washing and changing my sheets twice weekly, going on a low estrogen birth control, and adding N-acetylcysteine to my supplements helped me more than I could ever say.

Minoxidil. 

Using Minoxidil to grow my eyebrows out was one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself. I love the look of thick, lush eyebrows, but I don’t actually like thick brows. I used minoxidil to grow my eyebrows until they were thick and I could have them threaded and thinned out just a bit, straightened, and tinted until they were the shape and shade I wanted. Minoxidil is a great tool; it's decently affordable, and while the results take a while to appear, once they've been appearing, they’re very noticeable. I also use a regular lash serum on my lashes to grow them; it’s from The Ordinary, and I think it works slowly but nicely. You do have to be very precise with your application of Minoxidil, but other than that, it’s very good for filling in sparse eyebrows.

Weight Loss.

Losing over 80 pounds, doing a complete overhaul of my diet and limiting the amount of processed foods I consume, making an effort to care for my body and mind, and changing my mental and physical health for the better completely changed my world. My insulin resistance is totally gone, I’m healed from the PCOS that once plagued me, I no longer eat the foods I have sensitivies to, and the inflammation and water retention I’d have the morning after are gone, and I feel like my best self. My double chin has been vanquished, my bone structure is visible again, and I love the way my nose looks, and I am so much more confident about the shape of my face. Losing weight is the best thing I have ever done for myself, and I’d recommend it to anyone who feels like they need to overhaul their life.

Proper Styling

Learning how to do my makeup, contouring my face with self-tanner, and styling my hair were all major parts of becoming more confident with my face. Now that I know what I’m doing with myself and I’ve been able to identify what suits me best, things come easier. Proper styling is what’ll make or break you. You could be the most beautiful woman in the world, but if you don’t care for your appearance, you’ll struggle. I put a lot of time and effort into learning what looked best on me, learning how to style myself, learning what worked with my facial shape and bone structure, and figuring out which lash maps, brow shape, makeup style, and colors suited the overall aesthetic I was going for. Learning about makeup products, trying a variety of different makeup styles, and new makeup techniques made a world of difference for my styling journey too.

Braces.

I had braces on for just over a year—traditional metal, power chains most of the time—and they were worth every cent. I was always insecure over my teeth, and fixing them has really made it easier for me to smile and express myself. Although they’re not perfectly straight or blindingly white (Kirsten Dunst is known for her smile for a reason), I’m confident, and I love them. Taking care of my teeth is something that I really struggled with at one point, and I have had to make a real effort to get better at that. I still have my dental routines, wear my retainer at night and through the day, and do brightening treatments, but I’m focused on the health of my mouth instead of aesthetics now.

These are the major things.

[foxintheferns]

I'd love to see Jacob with a single mama. I'd love it if he imprinted on her while she's playing with her little one on the beach. She could be Charlie's niece who he helped move to Forks to give her a fresh start with the little one. I'm thinkin the kiddo is about 1-2, old enough to walk/play in the sand but still young. I can see Jacob being the best papa ever and the pack just LOVING on the kid <3 Please and thank you! <3

Thank you so much for your patience with this one! Because I made you wait so long, I made it a long one <3. Loved writing such sweet lil fluffy stuff. Please enjoy :)

A/N: AU where Jacob and Bella aren’t toxic & weirdly obsessed with each other, and he has his own life and experiences outside of her! Period.

HOME

You sat on the sand with Lydia between your legs, her wispy, silky auburn hair blowing between your fingers with each soft gust of the salty breeze. You faced the ocean, La Push beach surrounding you in all of its striking glory.

Lydia babbled as she played with the sand, her back to you and her arms and legs quite literally covered in the granules. It would be her second birthday in two months, and you couldn’t understand where the time had gone. She grew so quickly, her chunky little arms and legs getting longer by the day, and you wished desperately that you could pause time.

Your ex boyfriend Noah, Lydia’s father, hadn’t wanted much to do with the raising of his child.

You looked down at the side of her sweet face, the buttery soft skin of her cheek glowing with the orange light of the afternoon. It was despicable that anyone could not want to love this tiny human, you thought, that anyone would even consider leaving her by choice. But that was exactly what Noah had done. His booze and his gambling was far too important to him to bother with the raising of a small child.

It made you angry; you felt a relentless and almost violently intense need to protect her. From everything ugly and awful and false in this world, even if that meant her own father. He had never treated you right, always gone for nights at a time doing who knows what with God knows who. The pregnancy had been an accident, but his reaction was not what you’d expected. He’d seemed to be on-board at first, but was never there for you during your difficult pregnancy. You thought back to how your muscles had ached as you were on all fours scrubbing the bathroom floor that one Saturday night, seven months pregnant and inconceivably exhausted. He had come home after being gone for two days, reeking of liquor and barely having time to slur out his angry question of what you were planning on making for dinner before he’d passed out on the living room couch.

You had been expecting Lydia’s birth to snap him back to reality, to throw things into perspective for him. But the man you had practically grown up with, together since 18, had missed her birth.

“Got caught up at work,” had been his excuse when he showed up at the hospital the next morning. Even the labor and delivery nurse had thrown him a glare.

When Lydia was 3 months old, you were forced to go part-time at the job you’d loved, the one that could actually lead somewhere. Without Noah’s help, childcare was next to impossible. Your neighbor, Jess, a stay at home mom of three, was kind enough to babysit Lydia with her own children for a few days out of the week, but you felt awful not being able to pay her much, if anything, most weeks.

After over a year of trying, of desperately hoping and yearning for the man you had once loved to be a father to your sweet girl, you’d finally thrown in the towel. Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being a dad, and in one of his more blacked-out stupors, had even remarked that if the two of you hadn’t gotten pregnant, things would’ve been easier. Better.

Noah had been gone 11 days, his longest absence yet.

You’d packed your minimal belongings, gathering Lydia’s too and putting them into her tiny suitcase with strawberries on it.

Your mom had passed when you were 16, and your dad was very much like Noah. Oh, how patterns repeat themselves. You didn’t have much of a support system to fall back on when shit hit the fan.

The one person you knew would answer if you called was your Mom’s brother, Charlie.

“(Y/N)?,” his gruff, tired voice had come through the phone that early Tuesday morning. You knew it was probably only 4am in Forks, where he was, but he’d still answered the phone.

“Uncle Charlie…,” you’d whimpered shakily, “I-….”

You didn’t even know where to begin. Uncle Charlie had always been so good to you, checking in and asking how Lydia was frequently. He’d been one of the few people you’d called to share the exciting news of your pregnancy with, and had been ecstatic, urging that you come visit him and your cousin Bella as soon as you could.

“What’s goin’ on? You okay?”, His voice had become suddenly alarmed, and you’d heard the shuffling in the background of him getting up and out of his bed.

Leaving with Lydia was something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but you didn’t think you could actually follow through with it. Saying it out loud felt impossible.

“I need your help,” you’d whispered, your voice low and on the verge of breaking.

That was two weeks ago now.

You sat on the soft sand with Lydia, her tiny fingers gripping your leg for support as she pulled herself up, and you thought back to the fear you’d felt that day. Charlie had immediately paid for a plane ticket for you and Lydia to fly up to Port Angeles. He didn’t waste a moment in inviting you to come stay with him. He’d been clearly enraged, barely hiding his distaste for Noah’s behaviors once you’d let the floodgates open and told him everything you’d been hiding for months.

“Jesus, (y/n). I thought you guys were doing good…I thought he was different, honey. I’m so sorry, kid,” Charlie had spoken into the phone after the words pouring from your mouth had finally come to a halt once you’d gotten him caught up on the current status of your relationship with your baby’s father. You hadn’t realized it, but you’d been hiding it from practically everyone. Your cousin Bella texted you often, and she knew some of the details of how absent Noah had become, but even she didn’t know the extent of it. You were a single mother, from the moment Lydia was conceived, you’d accepted that. Noah was never a dad to her.

“Mama! San!” Lydia’s tiny voice shrieked out as she grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in front of her, some of it spraying in the breeze and landing across your chest and arms. She tentatively waited for your reaction. Her eyes scanned your face, her pink cheeks pulled into an ecstatic smile. You laughed, shaking your head, and wiped the rough granules off of your skin as you nodded at her.

“Yes, sand!” You picked up a handful of it, holding it out to show her and letting it spill through your fingers. She shrieked again, excited by your intentional dropping of the sand, and jumped several times, her little legs barely able to lift her half an inch off the ground.

You’d been down at the beach in La Push almost every day now. You’d gotten settled in to the extra bedroom at the Swan’s house, and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden, so you went out with Lydia often. Charlie and Bella had insisted, several times, that they were grateful to have the two of you. That they didn’t feel burdened by your presence. A toddler definitely wasn’t the quietest or most polite house guest, but Lydia was truly the best thing you’d ever done, and you prided yourself that you’d managed to raise such a good tiny human all on your own.

She was kind, and gentle. She loved animals, she loved making new friends. She watched the world around her with curious and eager eyes, anxious to explore and see and feel. She laughed and laughed and laughed; she was the giggliest baby you’d ever seen.

Bella offered to watch her whenever you needed a break, and you hadn’t asked for one yet. She was practically begging to babysit Lydia at this point, which had surprised even her; she wasn’t much of a kid person.

You didn’t want a break. You were soaking up this time with your little one as much as you could. You felt free, for the first time in a long time.

The beach felt like home now, and Lydia seemed to think so too. Every time you walked with her down the dirt path toward the beach, she would screech and try her best to run towards the glistening ocean. You’d been at the beach now for an hour or two, and you reached into your bag to pull out more baby sunscreen for her.

“Lyd, come ‘ere babe.” You reached out, gently pulling her to you, and her eyes landed on the pink bottle of sunscreen. She knew the drill at this point, and gingerly leaned against you as you rubbed the cream across her tiny little shoulders and arms. She giggled and smiled as the cold sunscreen landed on her skin.

“Eeee!” She cried, slapping her small hands against your leg as she pulled her face away in protest to you trying to spread the sunscreen across her cheeks. She still stood in place though, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting as you rubbed it in.

“Thank you, baby. Such a good girl,” you cooed as you snapped the lid of the sunscreen closed and placed a kiss on the tip of her little nose. You continued to pepper her face with smooches until she was a screeching, giggling mess on the sand, her arms and legs flailing every which way. You tickled her, both of you laughing loud enough for the sound to travel over the noise of the rolling waves hitting the beach.

After the tickle attack came to an end, you grabbed some strawberries and blueberries from your bag, pulling open the Tupperware container and holding it out to Lydia. Her eyes lit up (strawberries are her all time fave) and she eagerly grabbed at the berries with both hands. After several minutes of snacking, her mouth and face was stained pink and red, and her fingers were sticky. The sand was still warm, although the breeze was starting to cool off a bit.

“Let’s walk, yeah Lyddi?,” you asked, getting up from your large towel and brushing the sand off of your legs. She bounced around beside the towel, falling a few times onto the soft sand as she lost her balance. You held your hand out and smiled down at her, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She reached out without hesitation, allowing you to envelope her tiny hand in yours, and let you lead her down towards the water.

You walked across the gentle waves, only going far enough so that the incoming swells flowed across your feet and ankles. With each wave hitting the shore, Lydia giggled and gripped your hand firmly, picking her feet up as quickly as she could to run from the water as it approached, only to run back towards it when it receded. You bent down, releasing her hand to skim the ocean water, wetting your fingers to clean the berry juice from her face.

As you were wiping your thumb across the soft skin of her chin, you saw her eyes flicker to something behind you, down the beach. Her gaze was intent and focused, and you glanced over your shoulder to see what managed to catch her constantly fleeting attention. A group of four tall men coming down the beach, kicking a soccer ball amongst their group. Their laughter was just reaching your ears now, and they were coming close enough that you were able to make out their faces.

They were quite large, and all but one of them were shirtless. The image rang a bell: they looked like they could be some of the Quileute boys you’d heard Bella mention were her close friends. You knew the beach was on the local Quileute reservation, but it’d been relatively empty in the days you and Lydia had been spending there, and you’d only seen random tourists walking along the beach occasionally. Bella had complained jokingly to you that these friends of hers were annoyingly always shirtless, impossibly large and tall, and that her boyfriend Edward wasn’t the biggest fan of them.

You smiled when one of them looked down the beach towards you and Lydia, and he seemed to return a polite smile at first, but his face melted into an odd expression when your eyes met. It was an indecipherable look. A look you didn’t understand.

He stopped walking, his body halting while his friends continued to move down the beach ahead of him. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was about to wave or come towards you, as if he recognized you like an old friend. The peculiar expression lingered for a moment before he pulled his eyes away quickly, and you saw his mouth moving as he seemed to speak swiftly to the men around him. His friends stopped walking as well, all turning to face him with bewildered expressions. The eye contact between you had been longer than a typical interaction with a stranger, but you felt oddly unalarmed. You were struck with an odd sensation that felt like you recognized him too.

He was the tallest of the group, his shoulders wide & strong. His frame was long and lean, and he happened to be the only one wearing a shirt, though it was a black cut off tank that didn’t cover much of his chiseled musculature underneath. You brushed the encounter off as random and probably explainable, trying to ignore the odd and unfamiliar sensation that prickled across your entire body like electricity.

You turned back to Lydia, but her curious eyes were still locked on the group behind you, wonder filling her face. A smile crept onto your lips as you watched her blink, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. She was beautiful. She was always so curious, so interested. Strangers made her nervous, like any two year old, though, which is why you were utterly bewildered when she broke away from your grasp and started toddling down the shore towards the group of men. You shot up from your lowered position, chasing after her.

“Lydia!” you called, your feet picking up pace.

It was amazing just how fast a two year old could be when they suddenly decided they had a destination in mind. You caught her under the armpit just as she almost fell across the wet sand in her run, and your knees hit the soft sand as you almost fell yourself. You panted, holding onto her and unable to stifle back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“What the heck! Lyd-,” you started, looking up from where you grasped her. She was frozen, staring up at something.

She’d managed to close the distance between the two of you and the men, quickly enough that the soccer ball they’d been passing around as they came down the beach was only feet away now. You followed her gaze, and saw two large hands come down to swiftly pick up the ball. Your eyes moved up more still, until they landed on the face of the man you’d just locked eyes with moments before.

His gentle brown eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his expression yet again incomprehensible. You still had a smile on your face, and his eyes flicked down to your grin, the corners of his own mouth lifting up slightly. He gestured toward you with the arm that held the soccer ball.

“You’re, uh, Bella’s cousin?” The sound of his voice was rough and deep. Your grin faltered to make way for the suprised expression that came across your face.

“Oh, uh, yeah! Um, you know Bella?” You asked, taking the brief moment to get back up onto your feet and readjust the flowy fabric of your sundress that had gotten ruffled up in the capturing of your tiny escapee. You still held Lydia’s hand, and she stayed unmoving by your side, watching the tall man with the same awed expression. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes maintained the same electric glow they’d had from the moment you’d looked at him.

“Bella’s one of my best friends, yeah. She’s told me a lot about you…and… uh Lydia, right?” He spoke gently, his eyes glancing down at the tiny human to your right. You looked down at her, too, and she smiled timidly up at the man, stepping slightly behind your leg shyly. You beamed back at him, nodding and running your fingers through the soft silky baby hair on the top of Lydia’s head.

“Yeah, this is Lydia,” you replied, ruffling her hair until a soft giggle fell from her lips.

“I’m Jacob Black,” he glanced beyond him briefly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “those are my buddies Quil, Embry, and Jared. You’re (Y/N)?”

You glanced briefly over to the other three men, though they were now immersed in their own mumbled conservation several yards away; one of them was watching you with interest and flashed a warm smile back at you.

You nodded, turning back to Jacob.

“That’s me,” you answered with a shrug and a smile. When you met his gaze again, his eyes were intense, almost pained, his pupils wide. That electric feeling ran through you again. The eye contact between the two of you lingered each and every time it occurred, as if it was an inconvenience to pull away from it for both of you. Jacob knelt down on one knee, tucking the soccer ball under his arm. His eyes only broke away from yours to glance down at Lydia, who was still watching him intently from her place next to your leg.

“Hi, Lydia, it’s nice to meet you,” he murmured gently, “I’m Jacob.”

There was a hesitation, and you were just about to encourage Lydia to say hello to Jacob, but to your surprise she broke away from you once more, ambling across the sand and reaching her arms out towards the soccer ball Jacob held under his arm. In her uncoordinated stumbling over the sand, she started to fall forwards. Before you could even begin to reach to catch her, one of Jacob’s large hands came out in a flash to support her, stopping her mid fall.

“Woah, buddy, careful there!” He exclaimed, a chuckle coming from his chest.

At the sound of his laughter, your baby beamed up at him, her expression suddenly delighted, and after a moment, a giggle erupted from her own little body.

Your eyes widened, shocked as you watched her laugh, Jacob’s large hand still holding her up off the sand. His eyes flickered to you as you broke into surprised laughter as well, and soon the three of you were a giggling mess. Lydia adored making adults laugh. It was the phase she was currently in: to laugh at everything anyone deemed amusing, and it was common that she would even fake laugh to get you to laugh, which would often result in a real fit of hysterics from the both of you

You were astonished that she’d warmed to a stranger so quickly, especially such a large man - a category of human that toddlers tend to decide is terrifying for no reason.

As the afternoon started to bleed into evening, you and Lydia got to know your new friends. Lydia was very opposed to moving away from them, interested in the soccer ball and jumping around in the sand. Jacob continued to stare intently at you every moment that his eyes weren’t required to be on something else, and you didn’t mind it. His energy was warm and gentle, and even his friends seemed to find his behavior entertaining, chuckling and whispering to eachother every time Jacob’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds too long. You couldn’t help but feel the heat rush to your face with his stares. You hadn’t really felt this noticed by someone, a man, in what felt like forever. And he was absolutely noticing you. He was doing more than notice you. He was ogling at you, drinking the sight of you in like fresh air for a suffocating man. His eyes turned gentle and soft whenever they fell upon Lydia, and he spent the time as the two of you spoke truly attending to her and her endless toddler games, showing earnest interest in the shells she had picked up and started to stack on one of his feet.

“Oooh, wow, now that one’s pretty. Definitely my favorite one yet.” He carefully examined the newest purple shell Lydia had found and handed to him for inspection. She smiled and clenched her fists in excitement, eagerly racing to find more shells in the sand to bring to him.

His eyes slowly found their way back to yours as you sat beside one another. You smiled softly, and he returned it, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling them gently.

There it was again, that electricity.

Six Months Later

It had been a whirlwind, these past six months. Meeting Jacob Black had changed life entirely for you and your daughter. After that night on the beach, you, Charlie and Bella had visited the Blacks’ home a few times, joining them for bonfires and pizza dinners whenever a hockey game was on tv. Bella seemed adamant that you visit Jacob often, even Charlie seemed surprised with how eagerly she encouraged you to join them and hang out with the Quileute boys. You’d met Jacob’s father, who seemed to welcome you into his family without hesitation within moments of meeting you. He had peered at you with an intensely inquisitive expression, something that reminded you of the odd gut feeling you hadn’t been able to shake…that your new acquaintances were far more interesting than they let on. There was just something about them, and it felt like a secret club you were looking in on, one that caused the hushed, private conversations that seemed to happen frequently in their presence. You’d spoken to Bella about your encounter with her friend right after that first night on the beach. As the rest of that week had passed, Bella had begun acting suspiciously around you. Within days of her odd avoidant behavior, she finally sat you down to tell you things that challenged your perception of the world, forever.

Vampires and werewolves.

Insanity, right?

Bella had explained her relationship with Edward, and you hadn’t believed it at first.

Like, at all. Who would?

In fact, you thought she’d been completely off her rocker, crazy.

That was, until she’d claimed that Jacob had something to do with it, too.

“You need to go talk to Jacob,” she’d urged, “only he can explain what you need to know.”

You’d been absolutely confused, unsure what Jacob Black had to do with anything, especially with this absurd tale of vampires.

“I’ll watch Lydia. Go,” she’d insisted, practically pushing you out the front door. You were insanely curious; you’d never had any reason to question Bella’s mental competence before, and with her frantic efforts to get you to talk to Jacob, you had to know what this was all about. You still of course doubted the absurd story, but wanted to get to the root of the craziness, naturally.

When you’d arrived at the Black’s house, it seemed Jacob was expecting you, and he’d grabbed your hand gently, pulling you towards his little makeshift garage in the back.

You’d spent hours with him that night. Jacob had tried, while his eyes watered and his voice shook nervously, to explain the wildly unbelievable, and yet somehow completely sensical and validating reality of his ancestral destiny.

“I know, (y/n). Please, believe me, I know this sounds crazy,” he’d said as he anxiously paced across the garage, his eyes flashing to your face for your reaction.

You’d shaken your head, trying to connect the dots in your mind. It matched up with the absurd story Bella had told you, only this time he was speaking of wolves, wolves with the instinctual duty to protect from the supposed vampires Bella become involved with deeply. Wolves that were not wolves, but men. Men that included Jacob and his friends.

“Come with me,” he’d finally insisted sternly as you’d silently refused to accept the words he spoke, staring at him dumbfoundedly.

He’d led you outside, to the dark treeline, and placed his hands up in front of him before you could protest.

“Listen, I know this is gonna be hard to see, (y/n). I didn’t wanna have to do this but I need you to understand. There’s so much more to this world than you think there is. Please,” he’d begged, pulling you into a tight hug, his eyes wildly urging yours to listen to him, his shaky voice reducing to a whisper against your hair, “I understand if you never, ever want to be a part of this. But you deserve to know.”

You’d shaken your head, bewildered.

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

He stood back and started to pull his pants down, and your eyes widened, your eyebrow cocking up in confusion. A smile flashed across his lips.

“Remember what I just told you. I’d never hurt you, okay?”

Your mind flickered to the story he’d just spent the last hour telling you, but your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to defy logic to consider the possibility that the man was truly actually about to turn into a wolf.

And yet, you stood there with your jaw slacked open and your eyes wide, your body frozen as he stepped back several feet, his body twitching and trembling and twisting oddly before…

A ripping sound rang out, a wildly violent sound that came from deep within his body. The sound echoed against the trees, before it fell hauntingly silent across the dark backyard. Within less than a moment, a massive red brown wolf was standing before you, his huge head only inches away from your face.

Your mind didn’t comprehend the sight, the reality too unreal and too intangible to wrap around and understand. Those same brown eyes you’d come to know and feel safe in stared back at you intently from the massive wolf’s face.

It was the last image you remembered before you’d fallen to the ground, slipping into a shock driven unconsciousness.

When you’d woken, you had been in Jacob’s bed, an ice pack being gently repeatedly pressed to your forehead and neck.

It had been a rude awakening, but one that had forced open your eyes to a world that quickly became home for you, lifting the veil of reality that you’d come know.

Jacob’s next explanation was that of the concept of imprinting. That night, after you’d settled and moved out of your state of shock, started speaking real words again, Jacob expressed why he felt it was necessary to expose you to his world. He’d explained the ancient way of imprinting, what it meant for him, what it meant for you. That first day on the beach, the way he’d look at you, that electricity. It all made sense now.

“It’s you, (y/n). Now that you’re here, I will follow you anywhere. Even if you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll always protect you and Lydia from afar. Always. I can’t imagine a world anymore without you, a life without you. The moment I saw you, I felt it. My heart was yours,” he’d murmured, his arms around you as he rubbed your back to calm your tremors that had come across your body as you tried desperately to adjust to your entirely new concept of existence.

That felt so long ago, now. You’d met the Cullens soon after you were welcomed into the world of the supernatural, joining Bella in her secretive lifestyle of hiding the direct truth from Charlie, only letting him in on what he absolutely needed to know. Charlie was over the moon that you and Jacob got together; he pissed Bella off with how openly he approved of your relationship with Jacob over hers with Edward. Jacob didn’t feel right having you live in a spare bedroom at the Swan house, and had practically demanded you move into a home on the reservation with him. He’d jokingly insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that the imprint had forced him to need you in his sight at all times. You didn’t resist, elated to finally feel welcome in a home with your Lydia. And it wasn’t hard - Jacob made that incredibly simple. He so openly loved Lydia nearly as much as he loved you. Sometimes, you wondered how deeply the imprinting had impacted him. He accepted it and took it on with respect. He never pressured you to be anything but there, in his life. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest or even really notice how slowly you were allowing him into your heart. The relationship you had with Jacob had begun as a deep and true friendship, but the imprint connection was impossible to ignore, and there was undeniable attraction you felt for him, even beyond his beautifully kind heart and spirit. You held hands constantly, even before you’d established any sort of romantic connection. The first night Jacob had kissed you, you’d expressed your hesitation at pulling him into your life. You’d gotten used to men not wanting much to do with a single mom, after Noah had made it clear that you and Lydia were essentially a burden in his life. You were scared, not only for your own heart, but for Lydia’s. You couldn’t bear to bring another man into her life only for him to reject her like her father had. But Jacob? He’d adamantly refused to let your anxieties overcome you. He loved you, he’d insisted. All of you. Lydia was part of you. So, he loved her. It was that simple to him. He was often just as anxious when Lydia was out of his sight as when you were.

You remember the first time Lydia had called Jake ‘Dada’, several months after you’d been exposed to this world of fantasy. Lydia had gotten so comfortable with him, more comfortable than she’d been with any person, besides you, before. She babbled with excitement every time she heard you or Charlie or Bella mention him, and begged to see him frequently. Once you’d moved into the small red house with Jacob, she’d jump and squeal every time his truck pulled into the driveway at the end of the day.

That day she first said the word, you’d nervously glanced at his face, searching for his response.

She’d been holding his hand, walking along the shore at La Push. It was winter by this point, but Lydia needed her regular beach walk, and was bundled in her tiny red puffer jacket and white hat. She’d stooped down to pick up a shell, gripping it in her small fist, and jerked her hand out to him, dropping the shell into his hand.

“Dada!” She’d squealed as she waited for his approval of the shell.

His eyes had lit up and an expression of utter shock, which had quickly shifted into ecstatic bliss, moved across his features. His eyes had flashed to yours, and he clearly struggled, with everything in him, to hold back a massive grin. He was unsure of your reaction. Your eyes had melted back at him, and you were completely unable to resist the smile that crossed your lips. His dark eyes had turned glossy, and he’d looked back down at Lydia’s impatiently waiting face as she’d stared up at him, grasping the shell and embracing her in a massive bear hug. She’d laughed and shrieked, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

At Lydia’s 2nd birthday party, the whole pack had celebrated with you and Jacob at Billy’s house. The rest of the boys had happily taken on the role of proud uncles, practically fighting over who could hold her whenever you brought her over.

Life was peaceful, and you’d taken on a job at the La Push Farmer’s market. Childcare was a breeze now: on any given day while you were at work, either Sue & Charlie or Emily would eagerly babysit Lydia if Jacob was out on patrol or working his shift as a mechanic at the local bike shop. Lydia now had a family that was larger and more loving than you could have ever dreamed for her.

And you couldn’t ignore the fateful gift that you’d received too. Jacob Black was yours, and you were his. And you knew that, without a single doubt, he’d protect you and your daughter with relentless fervor for the rest of your lives.

You were safe. You were loved.

You were home.

[spaceorphan18]

The Contessa (Polin Fic)

Rating: E for very explicitness

Summary: Colin returns home one evening to find Penelope reading his journal. She has some inquires about some undocumented time, and he tells the story of the infamous Contessa...

Notes: I've had this idea forever and just needed to get it out of my system. It's one part slice of domestic life, one part porn without plot, all of it full of love and emotions because how can you not with these two? There's a little pregnancy talk as it takes place in the months between the Butterfly ball and the epilogue.

For anyone wanting to read on Ao3 Here is the Link.

Thanks for reading!!

****

The Contessa

It’s evening when Colin arrives back at the house.  He shuffles through the door, flushed a little from the warm, late summer air, a little from the half bottle of brandy he and Benedict had finished off not an hour earlier.  It is still somewhat a foreign sensation -- leaving the family he had spent a happy afternoon with and the house he had grown up in to return to a place where the halls he now walks feels new and unfamiliar.  But it’s not a bad sensation.  In fact, he relishes the fact that he now has a place of his own.  A home.  A home for his own family. 

He grins, and it’s not just the alcohol that makes him a little dizzy. 

“Pen!” He calls out.  They spend a considerable amount of their time together but on days they’re apart, he’ll usually find her at the desk in the study.  Curiously, she’s not there.  “Penelope?” 

“She’s retired for the evening, sir.” Penelope’s hand maid, Rae, passes him in the hallway.  She points back to the bedroom. 

Colin furrows his brow.  His wife has been fatigued more often than not as of late, and it has had him concerned. “Is she well? Perhaps I should have stayed…” 

Rae holds one hand up, and shakes her head with a smile.  “She is fine, sir,” she assures him.  “And doing well for one in her condition. Besides, her mother was with her most of the day.  Nothing to worry about.  She only wanted the comfort of her bed for reading.” 

“Thank you, Rae,” he says, giving a nod to dismiss her.  

He isn’t entirely comforted.  Lady Featherington has been a source of contention recently; wanting to be at Penelope’s side more often than not.  Never in her life, Penelope has complained to him, has her mother shown her so much attention.  Perhaps it has to do with Prudence and Phillipa giving birth to two, sweet little girls that now Lady Featherington’s sights are set on her third daughter to produce the heir she so desperately desires.  And it would give Colin a slight sense of satisfaction if he and Penelope were the ones to bring that heir into being.  But Penelope’s comfort has always come first, and Lady Featherington’s unusual form of mothering is often too much.  He can only hope that she hasn’t pushed Penelope past exasperation.  

Colin is indignant as he enters their bedroom.  He doesn’t care that it’s evening, or that it might be seen as improper, he’ll head straight to the Featherington estate to give his mother-in-law a piece of his mind if he finds she’s been the source of his wife’s discomfort.  His emotions are easily bubbling to the surface but the minute he catches his wife’s reflection in the mirror, they shift from discontent and worry to… something else.  

He pauses, watching Penelope in the mirror.  After a day of being apart, his chest tightens at the sight of her.  She’s sitting, soundly, on her side of the bed, legs curled under her as she reads.  She is already in her pale, pink nightgown; her red curls down and resting gently against her bosom.  Her skin glows softly in the candlelight.  He has wondered that maybe after months of marriage if the deep desire he felt upon looking at her would eventually diminish or change but it has not and instead he has accepted that it will always be a part of him, always simmering in the back of his mind, waiting for an appropriate time to be unleashed. 

Penelope is too engrossed in her reading to look up.  He notes that it’s his journal that she’s reading so intently, a thought that brings a smirk to his lips, and he can’t help but wonder what part of his journeys has her so captivated.  She scratches a note in the margin, then continues reading, the feather of the quill lightly dancing teasingly against her lips.  He watches, mesmerized.  

“I can feel you staring at me,” she says, suddenly.  She doesn’t look up from her reading, taking the moment to jot down another note, but a smile climbs on her lips.  

Colin crosses the room, over to her side, bending down to give her a kiss on top of her head.  “I don’t think it’s a bad thing to stare at one’s wife.  Especially, when that wife is as beautiful as you.” 

He goes to move away, but she pulls him back, looking up at him with that same mix of wonder and slight disbelief she gets whenever he compliments her.  “You are really too much sometimes,” she says, tugging him down for a quick kiss.  “I am ghastly.  Bloated with child.  Sweaty, swollen, and uncomfortable…” 

Concern crosses his face.  “Is there anything I can do?” 

“I think that you have done enough,” she says.  It’s a gentle tease.  Despite any worries he has, she seems in good spirits, tenderly cupping his face as she draws him in for another, quick kiss.  “Mmmm, you’ve spent a considerable amount of time with Benedict tonight.”

It’s the alcohol on his breath.  No denying that.  “He’s a nuisance, really.  Insisting that we celebrate Gregory going off to Eaton with cards and a drink.”  He moves away, sliding into the chair near the bed and begins unlacing his boots.  

“So he coerced you into it?” Penelope asks, her eyes bright with humor.  

“Of course,” he jokes.  He’s only half in jest about Benedict.  Lately, his usually free spirited, energetic older brother has become listless.  Colin is glad, at least, that Anthony is away in India, handing over the household duties, giving Benedict something to do. Otherwise, he worries Benedict would attempt to find his purpose at the bottom of every bottle.  He tells Penelope as much, but leaves out the part that before them, before her , he had felt the same way. 

“I’m sure Benedict will find his own happiness,” Penelope says, as if she can read his thoughts.  “But what of the rest of your family? Is your mother well?  How is Eloise? I feel terrible that we haven’t seen each other much in the past few weeks.  I do miss her.”  

“Mother is good,” he replies. He takes off his jacket, hanging it on the stand next to the dresser.  “Hyacinth sends her regards.  Eloise is… as Eloise always is.  She talked my ear off about some book that she said I must tell you about.  Some horrific novel about a scientist who creates the perfect man only for it to be a disaster.  She called it a literary masterpiece, and claims that you must pick it up when you have the chance.”  

“That sounds thrilling,” Penelope says, delighted.  “Will you be able to pick me up a copy?  Reading might be the only thing I can do soon, and one can never have too many books.” 

“If it is your wish,” Colin replies.  “It does sound like an absurd tale.  But that might be the way Eloise described it.  She’s always had a flair for the dramatic in her commentary.”  

“And that is why we adore her,” Penelope says.  “I think I’ll try to have tea with her at Bridgerton House.  The fresh air would be nice and I would very much like to get out of this house.” 

“But your condition…” 

“Is fine,” she lets out a laugh.  “I am not bedridden yet.  There is plenty I can do…” 

Her eyes remain fixed on him as he undresses.  He enjoys the way her gaze lingers as he casts off his layers, preening a bit as he unbuttons his shirt and discards it onto the chair.  Her eyes are wicked with want, and after a four day disruption due to her not feeling well, maybe they could return to their usual nighttime routine.  

Pen licks her lips as he approaches the bed, but continues with their conversation.  “It’ll have to be Thursday,” she says. “Friday, my mother wants all of us girls and their husbands for a dinner.”

His trousers remain on (for now) and he comes to the bed, flopping down on his back to stare at the ceiling, letting out a protesting groan as he does so.  “Are you sure we need to be there?” 

“You won’t be forced into conversation with my sisters,” Penelope says, reassuringly.  “You can spend time with Mr. Dankworth and Mr. Finch in the drawing room as you always do.  I promise to keep my mother busy so to keep the two of you apart.” 

He grumbles, turning on his side.  In truth, Albion and Harry have grown on him some.  They’re two of the biggest dolts he’s ever known, but they’re kind and amusing and seem to have embraced him as their leader in the secret club reserved for men who adore the Featherington sisters.  It’s charming, really.  And while he much prefers his own brothers, he’s well aware he could do much worse when it comes to brother-in-laws.  

“So, you mother…” he broaches the subject carefully.  Penelope’s relationship with her mother is fragile but mending, and he treads carefully.  “Was she too much for you today?” 

“She’s too much any day,” Penelope says, though her demeanor remains light.  “She just wants what’s best for me.  She did try to force me some horrid, green drink that’s supposed to manifest a boy instead of a girl.  I really doubt it, but even Varley was swearing by it.” 

“I dare say,” Colin says, “as much as I would revel in you having the heir to the Featherington estate, I would be pleased in having a girl, because it would annoy her so.” 

“Colin!” Penelope says, chiding him playfully.  

“Well, it would.” 

She rolls her eyes at him.  “Let’s move on from my mother.  You’re right, I have had too much of her today.  Besides, there’s something else I wish to discuss with you.”  She looks down to his journal, nervously playing with the pages.  

His curiosity is piqued, and he scoots closer, trying to see the page she’s on.  He can’t quite tell what passage she had been reading, and only sees a few words marked on the page here and there.  “What is it?” 

“I have been reading all evening,” she says.  He takes a beat of pride in how fondly she speaks of it.  “Your words are beautiful.  The way you talk about the moonlight shimmering on the Mediterranean sea; the bustle of Paris and Madrid and Rome; the shady, mysteriousness of the forests of Eastern Europe… It’s like I’m really there.  I can feel it.  Only, I’ve never even stepped foot outside of London.”  

He takes her hand, laces it with his own.  “I promise I will take you, someday.  I’ll take you to see the world.  Wherever you want to go.”  He kisses the top of her hand, as if to seal his promise.  

“I would love that,” she says.  She smiles but looks down at the journal.  There’s more she’s not saying.  “There’s something else that I noticed, though.  There are some dates that don’t quite add up.”  

“Oh?” 

She narrows her eyes, as if she’s hesitant about asking.  “Here you write about Rome, but then here,” she flips a few pages forward. “You are in Milan over a week later.  And yet you don’t speak at all of the journey.  Clearly it didn’t take a full week, did it?  What happened in that time that you do not wish to speak about?” 

He takes the journal, scanning it, wanting to refresh his memory, but there had been so much that had happened in such a short time, he could scarcely remember every detail.  

“Is that when you met her ?” Penelope asks.  He gives her an odd look, unsure as to who she is talking about.  “The Contessa.  I have read all of your journals now.  Twice.  And I haven’t read about her at all.” 

Oh .  He bites his lip to refrain from laughing.  Oh, his dear Penelope.  “How do you even know about her?” 

“Lady Whistledown hears everything eventually,” Penelope explains, she tickles his nose with the end of her quill.  “I have heard stories…” 

“Lady Whistledown…” he lets out an exasperated sigh as he takes the quill from her, and places it in the journal.  He snaps it shut.  “There’s not really anything to tell.”  

“You write extensively about your exploits in Paris, in Berlin, in… every city.  And you never mention her.”  She looks at him, unsure.  “Is the reason you don’t write of her… was she your first?” 

“No,” he says easily, reaching over her to place the journal on the nightstand.  “That experience was bought and paid for.  I have told you about that already - Rosalita...” He shudders to think of his first bumbling time.  Awkward and inexperienced and very short.  But at least she had been kind.  

Penelope’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “The Spanish woman! The one you said had the delectable bosom.”  

He grins, admiring her ability to recall such details, then leans in, giving her a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth, while he brings his hand up to cup her breast.  “Mmm, you know I can’t resist a delectable bosom.” 

“I will not be distracted so easily,” she says, it’s a playful warning.  “But how is it that you can boast about this Contessa to the entire male population of the ton and, yet, not tell me a single word about her?”  

He grins as he considers.  There is a reason he’s never shared this with her… And despite whatever she may have heard as Lady Whistledown, no one knows the actual story.  “Okay…” 

“Okay?” she stares at him, wonderingly.  There’s something special about the way she looks at him, so eager to hear any of his stories abroad, becoming especially attentive the more intimate in nature they are.  He once thought he’d never share such private thoughts with anyone, but she makes him want to open up, to share everything.  He could never really withhold anything from her.  Not even if he tried.  

He takes a moment to trace her forehead, her cheek, her chin, wanting to feel close to her.  He combs his fingers through her hair as he begins.  “She had red hair…” 

“Red hair?” she tilts her head in disbelief.  

“Orange-ish, really,” he says, with a small laugh, curling the end of her hair around his finger.  “Wild and fiery.  She was one of our hosts on the long trip from Rome to Milan, which did take nearly a week, now that you’ve got me thinking about it.  One of our horses had trouble and she kindly took us in.  It was a rainy night, but at least not a chilling one, and her cook made us the best stew I’ve ever had.  That evening, we stayed up to talk.  She was an impressive conversationalist.”  

“Oh, was she?” 

“She was,” he continues.  “She was a widow.  A young one.  But she knew things.  Had seen a bit of the world herself.  And I found her captivating.”  He cups her chin and uses his thumb to trace along her bottom lip.  He wants to kiss her. Wants to scoop her up and make up for all the days they’ve missed.  The desire he’s kept carefully at bay is coming front and center again, but he refrains.  

“So you talked?” 

“We did - late into the night.  The others, they one-by-one went to bed, but the two of us.  She said we had a connection and so I stayed.  And talked.”  

“Just talked?” It sounds like disappointment.  

He comes in close, cupping the back of her head carefully, as he whispers into her ear.  “There are plenty of things two people can talk about.”  

“Tell me.” 

He begins to give her feather-light kisses.  “The weather.”  He kisses against her cheek with a grin.  “Embroidery.” Another kiss against her jaw.  “The likelihood of winning at a game of cards.”   He travels down to her neck, but keeps his touch light.  

“Did you kiss her?” She asks.  

He pauses, breathing against her skin.  “I did.” 

“Show me.”  

He kisses her lips.  It’s gentle and tender and as easy as every fleeting kiss they’ve given each other over the past few months.  It’s not enough and he knows it.  

“Show me,” she says again, a harder demand.  

He kisses her harder this time, firm and strong and lingering.  It’s connecting and the heat of his desire begins to grow.  But it’s still not enough.  

“You’re holding back,” she challenges.  

“I am not,” he grins.  

“Don’t tease me,” she says, it’s almost a plea.  

“I assure you, I am not…” 

“Kiss me like you kissed her.” 

“I--” 

He can’t. As much as this had been almost a game between them, he realizes he can’t follow through with that request. Because kissing her is unlike kissing anyone else.  The gentlest brush of skin against skin lights his body aflame in the way that passionate kisses with anyone else does not.  

He pulls back to look at her -- really look at her.  The remarkable thing that he’s discovered since they’ve been married is that there are two of her.  Not her and Lady Whistledown, those are one and the same.  But there is the Penelope whom he fell in love with.  The one he���s always been in love with on some level.  The one who makes him laugh, who grounds him, who always has his best interests at heart.  His dearest friend.  

And then there is the other Penelope.  The woman who looks at him with those darkened eyes; whose lust for him is beyond anything he’s experienced with another partner.  She makes him feel raw and exposed and wanted in the most intimate of ways, even without the shedding of all their clothes.  And he wonders if he’s ever able to fully satisfy her hunger.  

“I cannot kiss you like her,” he says finally.  She looks at him confused.  “Because kissing you is an experience unlike any other.  Nothing feels as good as kissing you.” 

She gives him a proud look as she lunges at him, kissing him fervently.  And this… this is a kiss.  The world melts away, and there’s nothing but her, and her lips against his, her tongue sliding against his own, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer.  He deepens the kiss, feeling her everywhere.  

His own desire is becoming achingly apparent and if he had wanted to, he could end it all in a matter of moments, but he stops himself.  And pulls away, giving them a moment to both catch their breath.  

“This had to have happened after Spain,” she says, breathing heavily, still able to follow the narrative he had been laying down.  “And after France, as you visited Italy after both of them.  You’ve gained some experience by then, so I assume you did not stop with just a kiss.  Tell me, did she have a delectable bosom as well?” It’s her turn to tease, but she does so with the most sultry look upon her face.  

He admires her cleverness.  “Of course,” he gives, and tugs down on her nightgown, exposing her breast.  “As if I would settle for a woman with anything less.”  

He wastes no time latching onto her nipple.  She rakes a hand through his hair, encouraging him to kiss and suck and lick.  He reaches into her nightgown, to grasp at her other breast, squeezing it, causing her to moan and shiver under his touch.  

“I need more,” she manages to cry. 

He keeps his mouth firmly on her, sucking hard, as his hand travels underneath her nightgown.  Her legs fall apart, and he finds her wet and ready for him.  He’s soft at first, teasing where she would like him to be most, then pushes in with two fingers, while his thumb circles her most sensitive of spots.  She lets out a guttural groan that completely undoes him.  He never thought he’d be able to deliver such pleasure to someone else, but she closes her eyes and bucks her hips and lets him take control.  

He begins to kiss up her body as he works her, loving the fact that she has become so familiar to him that he knows exactly the right place to touch, the right pace to move, the right crook of a finger to push her over into release.  She is close, so close and all she needs is a little extra push.  “Let go, Pen,” he whispers into her ear.  “Let go, for me.”  

She screams his name as her release rips through her. He kisses her through it, wanting to feel her everywhere.  

He then pulls away, giving her a minute to come down, and he takes a moment to drink her beauty in.  Her hair is dark red across the white pillow, her breasts out and pink and raw where he’s kissed them.  Her nightgown is a knotted mess that he’ll have to untangle her from.  She has never looked more desirable.  

It doesn’t take long for her to sit up, intense and determined.  She pushes him back, giving herself a moment to free herself from her nightgown.  

“Did she touch you like you touched her?” she asks.  

He scoots back against the headboard, allowing her to undo his trousers.  “...Yes.” He lifts up, allowing her to pull them down and with a few kicks, he manages to cast them off.  

“Like this?” She wastes no time grabbing him.  It’s rough and the angle is awkward but he needs her touch.  

“Yes…” he gasps.  

“What about this?”  

“Penelope, you don’t have to…oh…” 

Her mouth is over him, sucking him down with a sense of determination he’s never seen from her before.  It’s almost too much.  

“Pen…” he says, almost losing himself over to the pleasure of it all.  “Pen, I need you to stop if…”

She pulls off, then straddles his lap.  “Did you lie with her like this?” 

“You really are still comparing any experience with…” 

“Did you lie with her like this?” she repeats. 

“No, but to be fair, we are sitting, not lying down.” It gets her to crack a smile.  “Are you sure you want to continue? Your condition...” he rubs a hand over her stomach.  “I don’t want you to push yourself more than you need to.”  

“Please do not speak to me as the mother of your child,” she says, staring at him deeply.  “Talk to me as your wife.  Your wife who needs you.”  

He nods.  “Okay…” 

They reposition some so he’s sitting on his legs.  She still straddles his lap, reaches between them to grab him, then lowers herself on him inch by delicious inch.  It is ecstasy feeling her around him, warm and tight. She begins to roll her hips, torturously slow.   He wraps his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible, wanting to feel connected in every sense of the word.  She brings her arms around his neck, drawing in for a deep kiss as they rock together.  

They pull apart, and he watches her, lets her lose herself in her own pleasure, lets her use his body for her own needs.  His body aches for its own release, but there’s something beautiful, something satisfying about watching her come undone over him.  

He senses when she begins to tire, when her legs begin to give out and lifts her up to lie her down on the bed.  

“Are you still okay?” he checks in.  

She nods.  “Don’t hold back.  I want to feel it.  I want to feel you .”  

He doesn’t. 

He begins to piston his hips, pushing into her frantically.  She moans into his mouth as they kiss and touch and get lost in each other.  There’s nothing in this world that feels as good as her, as feeling deep in her, as if she’s fully encapsulated him and they are one and the same.  There is nothing outside this room, this moment.  Nothing but her.  His thrusts speed up, become more erratic, and it’s not long before he’s pushed over the edge, spilling deeply inside of her.  

“Colin!” she screams.  His name on her lips, needy and desperate makes him dizzy and he crashes their lips together for another long kiss.  

Coming down, he pumps his hips shallowly a few more times before pulling out. He reaches between them to feel her, to touch her, to let her have her second release that evening.  Her body spasms around his hand, wildly and unyielding.  She calls out his name again, as she clings to him, letting wave after wave of pleasure wash over her.  

He remains over her as they both settle, catching their breath.  She reaches up, cups his face, runs her hands over his arms, his chest, his back. Neither quite ready to be done.  He kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips, sweet and gentle, just wanting one more taste before he rolls to his side, collapsing beside her.  

“Your time with the Contessa,” she says, “was like that?” She giggles as she says it.  

“Penelope…” he laughs, taking her hand, lacing their fingers together.  He doesn’t have to say it.  She knows. 

She shifts, curling up into his arms, cuddling against his chest. 

“Thank you,” she says.  Her voice is soft and sweet and the first Pen has taken over again.  “I needed that.” 

“I could tell,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  He remains quiet for a moment, holding her tight, enjoying the press of her body into his, the sweet smell of her scent she has after they’ve been intimate, the feeling of deep emotional connection that remains even after the physical connection has ended.  

“I think I’ve figured it out,” she says, a bit unexpectedly.  She looks up at him, her eyes bright and engaging.  

“Figured what out, love?” 

“The Contessa,” she gives him a grin.  “I know your secret.” 

“Oh?” 

“She does not exist,” she says plainly.  “You’ve made her up.”  

He gives her a smirk.  “Have I?” 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Penelope says, as if it’s the most obvious answer.  “There’s no real woman with fiery red hair who happens to be a great conversationalist and has a delectable bosom and can satisfy you so thoroughly.  Not one in Italy, anyway.”  

He chuckles into her hair.  “Oh, I assure you, she is very real.”  

“Real in your imagination.” 

“Real in my bed.”  He leans down to kiss her.  

“What did happen in that missing week then?” she asks.  

“I did tell you,” he says, with a grin.  “We had to get a new horse.  And then stayed for days in the most boring lodge waiting for a storm to pass.  There was nothing to do but stare at the wall…” 

“And create a fake Contessa?” she teases. 

They share a laugh together.  

“Oh, how I love you, Pen.” 

“And I love you .”  

After all of his travels, after all the adventures, he’s glad he’s there now with Penelope; his love, his best friend, his home.  He snuggles her close as his eyes flutter shut, and lets sleep take over.  

[kissme-suguru]

I like to think Toji has a big thing for MILFs and when he looks at his Wifey who already gave birth to Baby Gumi, he fell in love cuz now he has a MILF wife~ He doesn't care if guys say Women are ugly after pregnancy, he thinks she still looks so fucking pretty, her body is practically glowing

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ Toji showing his wifey some love

MDNI 18+

Toji Fushiguro x Post Pregnancy! Reader, fluff, smut, praise, body appreciation, Soft dom Toji, insecure reader, cunnilingus, squirting, one use of 'slut'

No cause I whole heartedly agree with you, I could see him lowkey catching an attitude if he saw you judging your appearance.

Toji would constantly praise your body, making sure to give you any reassurance even when you didn't believe him.

Any chance he had to rub your swollen belly he would take. "Look at this gorgeous belly, all round with my baby." And after you give birth? The man would shower every part of your body with love and soft touches.

His eyes would stare at your frame as you examined your body in the mirror with a somber face. Coming up behind you and running his big hands over every part you felt insecure about while kissing your neck. When you look away from the mirror he'd reach up and turn your face to continue looking as he rubbed your body.

A month after having Megumi Toji practically leaped on you when you tell him you can have sex again. He wasted no time stripping off your oversized pajamas and revealing your gorgeous post pregnancy body. His scared lips kissing down inch by inch, stopping at your belly that was adorned with stretch marks. A tsk of disapproval left his lips when he saw you turn your head away and try to cover yourself, feeling nervous and embarrassed at how your body had changed.

"Nu uh, none of that mama. Let me look at you." He gently grabbed your chin to make you look at him, in his eyes was nothing but love and lust.

"But Toji-"

"But nothing. I've been without this gorgeous body for damn near a year." He smothered your stomach in kisses before moving down in between your plump thighs, ghosting his tongue over your soft skin. "This body is so fucking perfect. You carried and birthed our son, I won't have you thinking bad about yourself, ya hear me?"

You nodded with heated cheeks, arousal burning in your lower stomach.

"Keep your eyes on me as I eat this pretty pussy, mama." Toji laid flat on his stomach, hiking your thighs on top of his muscular shoulders before diving into your entrance immediately.

His tongue moved up and down your folds, latching onto your swollen clit. A low groan left his lips when you reached down to tug on his dark locks, after being pent up for so long it didn't take much to drive you towards the edge. Toji kept his eyes on you as he ate you out like a starved man, his cock throbbing against the mattress.

He brought his fingers into the mix to double your pleasure. The sounds of your moans and wetness bouncing off the walls, almost a little too loud. "Shh, baby. You'll wake the brat if you keep whining like a lil slut."

He lifted his head and continued to thrust his thick fingers in and out of your squelching hole, watching you grind into his touch with a smirk on his lips. "My pretty wifey, ya gonna cum?"

"Fuck-yes Toji, I'm so close."

"Good girl, cum for me. Let me see this pretty pussy soak my hand." The sound of his words pushing you over the edge and making your thighs tremble in pleasure as you squirted all over his hand. Your chest rose and fell while you caught your breath and watched Toji lick your wetness from his hand.

"Mm, you taste so fucking good baby. So perfect." Toji crawled back up and kissed your lips with need, allowing you to taste yourself. A evident smirk on his lips when he pulled away. "I'm not done with you yet, mama. I gotta make up for all the lost time."

It was gonna be a loooonggg night.

[v3nusxsky]

Mars, mars!

I got a ask that I hope you write.

Basically Larissa is in a new relationship with Reader. And Larissa has been with Reader sexually since they passed 3 months together and they wished to enter into a more intimate relationship, but Larissa introduced shapeshifter sex (basically a shapeshifted cock and balls) and they are having unprotected sex.

Time passed and Larissa began to notice that her girlfriend’s areola is darkening, at first she let it pass but then talked with reader about it during pillow talk after sex, then she noticed that her girlfriend was eating weird foods and drinking weird combinations of liquids, something she expressed to her girlfriend amused. Then suddenly Larissa noticed that Reader was super sensitive during sex (while there were doing missionary, Reader squirted for the first time) and she talked about it during pillow talk while there were cuddling, while mentioning that her girlfriend was literally glowing. (like her nails were beautiful, her hair was long, shiny and healthy and her face had a beautiful blush and she had glass skin)

So after MONTHS of letting it go, all those things combined arose Readers suspicious about something she was thinking about. Reader then went and checked her calendar (while Larissa was at work) and realized that her period was 9 months ago and literally panicked about it. So next day she went to her doctor and talked about it, and the doctor did some blood texts and let her go home. Two days passed and reader was called from the doctor to come in and check her results, when she goes she’s given the news that she’s pregnant and she’s clearly been pregnant for 9 months, Reader of course doesn’t understand HOW? the doctor explains that Readers has a cryptic pregnancy and she’s almost ready to pop.

Reader goes back home dazed and confused by the whole situation, waiting for Larissa to get home to tell her the news.

Larissa goes home and Reader tells Larissa the news and Larissa faints from the surprise.

When she wakes up her girlfriend is sitting tensely on the couch and is given the news that she’s gone in labor.

Labor happens with Larissa panicking like a headless chicken and after HOURS of pain, reader gives birth to a healthy baby girl. A baby girl that Larissa cried big fat tears in seeing how precious her queen and princess look cuddling together on the hospital bed. A baby that made a decision that had been brewing for LONG time, in where Larissa kneeled beside the hospital bed and asked reader to marry her, with a ring that she took out of her bag.

OF COURSE READER SAID YES!!!

That’s it! I hope you do this ask I would be extremely happy and excited to read what you write. Have a good day mars!

The best surprise

*Authors note~ twenty two years to celebrate with a birthday fic including as many types of fics possible using the woman who inspired me to start writing again. Larissa Weems 🥰*

Trigger warnings~ cryptic pregnancy, shifted cock and balls for Larissa, hinted breeding kink and pregnancy kink (Larissa), smutty times, breast worship (r receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare, squirting (r receiving), missed period shock, doctors test, “spontaneous labour”, faints (Larissa), purposed (r receiving), mentions strap on, dom Larissa, sub kitten r

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’ll never forget the day she finally asked you to be hers. The way she stumbled over her words due to the nerves wrecking through her tall frame. The way her cyan blue eyes sparkled with pure joy and relief when you said yes. Dating your boss is something you’ve been warned about, they say it’s complicated and quite simply a one way ticket for a relationship to fizzle out. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t worry you at the start of the relationship with Principal Weems. Not only her being your boss but an older woman with more life experience than yourself felt slightly intimidating at the start. As the love grew the insecurities faded and you were living your best life with her. Happy.

The first time the two of you made love was nothing short of magical. Larissa took her time to slowly introduce to the pleasure she could bring you, the ways she could touch you and make you feel building your confidence steadily. You’ll never forget the first time you made the shifter orgasm. All the fears of not doing it right or being deemed “sexy enough” disappeared. Choosing to make the older woman feel all the love you held for her, worshiping all six foot three inches of her. It was perfect.

Larissa is a highly intelligent human, you could see that from a mile away, so it shouldn’t have shocked you that she would introduce many kinks to you. Ones you’d never even thought of. And her specific ability enabled her fantasies in many ways. It started small, your desire for her to feel the way you took her strap on in your mouth, the need to feel her inside of you. You’d confessed it one night when you were far down into your submissive haze, unknowingly awakening a beast Larissa didn’t know she housed.

Timing was the key. And Larissa was always impeccable with her timing. The first time you saw her shifted cock and balls you went feral. It just so happened you were ovulating that week, your hormones causing your libido to rise. The idea of her giving into your desires causing you to practically jump the older woman. She practically tutted at you holding your body a fraction away from her very naked frame, “darling. Be a good little kitten and please me before I even think about fucking this pretty pussy of mine.” The green light to fall to your knees and take her impressive length into your now hallowed cheeks only encouraged the arousal to drop down your thighs.

As heavenly as your mouth feels, your tight little cunt was ten times more. “Such a pretty kitten for me. Your slutty little hole is just dragging me back in darlin. God I love fucking you, if I could I’d constantly have you cock warming me. Wanna be stuffing you full of my cock all day kitten. You want that hmm?” She’d grunt as her thrusts continued to work their way deeper towards your cervix. “Want me to fill your pretty little womb with my babies? Keep you so full forever? You’re gonna look so pretty alll round and full for me. A pretty little kitty all for me. Fuck, please let me breed you darling. I need it.” All you could do was take her in deeper accepting load after load of her white hot seed. If only you’d known then what one night of passionate loving sex could do.

Larissa couldn’t help herself, on the rare occasions she got to watch you change for bed she had to stare. It had to be a crime to be as stunning as you are. But recently her keen eyes picked up on the slight darkening of your beautiful areola causing your tits to stand out more than normal. But then again she’d lavished them with loving nips and sucks nights in a row recently so perhaps they were just bruised. “Darling?” She mumbled catching your attention despite how exhausted your throughly fucked body was. “You’d tell me if I’m ever too rough with you wouldn’t you sweetheart? I never want to cause you any pain. You do know that right?” In a confusing sleepy haze you simply murmured reassurances that you were in deed well and truly satisfied and not feeling bad at all before snuggling up close to the woman. She’d have to be more careful with her attention to them. Maybe finding other places to mark as hers.

Larissa knows her girlfriend pretty well. But this was the third time this week you’d caught her off guard with a dinner request. You truly couldn’t stand some foods so to hear you ask for them and your choice of beverage not being something you’d normally buy was a surprise. But then again you’d remind her that it’s on your yearly list to try new foods and this sounds so nice so why wouldn’t you try it? And there is where she’d drop her argument, it’s not as if you’d be pregnant anyway. Right? There’s been no symptoms. Perhaps it’s a phase.

You felt normal, so every time Larissa noticed a change in behaviour you brushed her off. But while making love to the blonde, her lips at the shell of your ear as she whispered all her dirty fantasies and thrusted into your fluttering core you felt werid. Not a bad weird, but a strong urge to let go. To cum. Of course Larissa begged you to let go while dropping a hand to rub tight circles on your clit but neither of you expected for you to squirt for the first time as one of the most intense waves of pleasure tore through your body. You were always more sensitive in sex around the time of your period arriving, so naturally she comforted you and helped clean up before allowing you to snuggle up into her and talk. You admitted that it was scary not knowing what your body wanted but it was so powerful that you wanted to explore it more. It was then that Larissa noticed how shiny your beautiful hair was, the fact your skin was practically glowing and a beautiful pink blush had settled on your cheeks. “You’re so perfect darling” she mumbled absolutely mesmerised by your beauty causing you to chuckle and lightly slap her chest telling her to stop being so horny as you needed sleep now, with a giggle.

A student In your class was sent to the nurse for extremely horrendous period pains a few months later. That’s what prompted you to check. Your period was never regular but it also hadn’t appeared in a while causing the past few months to flash back into memory. But you couldn’t be pregnant. The only person you’d been with is your girlfriend. A chuckle escaped you, of course you wouldn’t be because you’re both girls. But then why was all you could think prompting you to book a doctor’s appointment to be checked out. Just incase.

The appointment was relatively painless, the doctor took some blood and asked all the usual questions about when the last time your period came and the last time you had sex. While slightly embarrassing you informed the doctor you were sleeping with another female. So they almost ruled out pregnancy. Almost. Yet no other explanation made sense and the more you thought about it the more you felt anxiety rising up in your stomach. The feeling of dread gluing you to the spot.

Your phone rang on your lunch hour, the number clearly stating this was what you were waiting for. The answer to whatever was causing your lack of period. Perhaps you need to go on some contraception to regulate them. That had to be it. “Congratulations you’re pregnant” rang in your ears as your phone crashed to the floor. Pregnant? How? What? You couldn’t be. It had to be a mess up in the lab. Right?

Wrong. After gathering yourself the doctor explained how you were experiencing a cryptic pregnancy, you actually were nine months pregnant and ready to deliver a baby, meaning you needed to pop by the Emergency Department and request and emergency scan, just to check the baby was healthy. How could you not know you were pregnant? Were you a terrible mother for not knowing this whole time? What would Larissa say? Would she believe you that the baby was hers? How could you have a baby? All these questions and more swirled round your brain as you rushed to the emergency room.

After being scanned and told you were due any day now but the baby was healthy, choosing to not know the gender, you drove home on autopilot. Pregnant. You a mother. It all seems too impossible to be real, yet the scam photo in your passenger seat was very much real. You’d heard their little heart beat in away. Reality.

Telling Larissa was absolutely nerve wrecking, emotions drowning you as you stumbled to get the words out and handed her the scan of your unborn baby. You expected shock, denial perhaps even screaming or tears. Larissa fainting on you wasn’t something you were prepared for. However, like life itself now, nothing was going the way you thought it would. You did your best as a heavily pregnant woman to help your lover even though tears were streaming down your cheeks. You’d always imagined telling your lover your pregnant in cute ways where she’d kiss you senseless instead of fainting.

Hours faded into days as you both processed the information and tried to frantically gather the items the baby would need urgently. Until your water broke three days after finding out you were indeed pregnant. You had three days to prepare when most couples had nine whole months. It was only natural Larissa spent the entire labour panicked trying to find ways to help with your pain and keep both of you calm. It hurt her to see you in endless amounts of pain as you waited for your body to dilate and the little surprise to work its way down the birth canal. You’d snapped at the blonde many times without meaning to, but it hurt so fucking much. You were definitely not enjoying pregnancy or giving birth and you told her as much. The nurse checking on your dilation couldn’t help but giggle when you told Larissa to keep her magical dick away from your core. If you so much as saw it again you’d snap it for causing this pain. You didn’t mean it, she knew that, but that’s the first time she’s ever been afraid of you.

Screams filled the room as your child took their first breaths. A beautiful baby girl, a perfect mix of you and Larissa laid bundled up in your arms. Tears of love and joy slipping down your cheeks as you gazed loving at her. Your daughter’s small hand wrapped around your little finger, she was real. Something so small and perfect and a complete surprise. Larissa couldn’t help but snap many pictures of you both together. Her queen and now beautiful little princess simply captivating her. She’d never get over how stunning you both are. How special you both are. “Rissa she’s so perfect” you gushed “she has your hair, do you want to hold her?”

Coming to settle with her little family she couldn’t help but feel now was the perfect time. You already had a daughter together, and seeing her whole world sat in a hospital bed made her more determined to keep you both. “Hi little one, you’re so gorgeous like your mommy” Larissa gushed before turning her attention to you, “what do we name our little surprise darling?” It took some time to decide together but ultimately felt right that the little girl in her arms was named Nova Lillie. “Well Miss Nova Lillie Weems, we should make momma a weems then too huh? Darling I want you forever and always will you do me the honour of being my wife?” A small ring made its way out from her pocket causing you to smile and nod. A Weems. Marrying Larissa Weems and raising your beautiful little surprise together would be everything you need. Nova was everything you both needed and more, you just didn’t know it yet.

[kit-williams]

An interesting idea recently came to my mind… and I just can’t keep quiet about it.

Imagine Horus suddenly realizing he's falling in love with a remembrancer/serf who's… pregnant.

Who the father is unknown. Either he died or abandoned you. And yes, this whole situation really pisses Horus off. He is delighted with the way you look, the way you smell and understands that he wants you to bear his child, give him blood sons.

You are cared for, you are cherished. Even too much. But he hates this child from some mortal. And then… heresy comes. After giving birth you are informed that your child, what a horror, has died. Horus consoles you, as if it was not he who crushed your son.

You will definitely become a mother. Do just let the primarch take care of you, okay?And please stop crying for your child, it's annoying. Oh, do you have any milk left? Well… :)

Yes, this whole plot and details are simply replete with horror, manipulation and perverted breeding kink. But Horus Heretic is supposed to be scary.

I don’t know if you will write a post about this or not. It would be a great pleasure to read. Unfortunately, I am not strong in Luna Wolves and Horus. Anyway, I hope all of you liked my absolutely disturbing idea.

So Momrad normally avoids stuff about hurting babehs... BUT this hit me like an Iron Warrior with a trenching shovel. Probably gonna do serf because obligatory momrad is in love with horrific power imbalances

Also ya'll have a lot more faith in me than I do myself about how I'm writing the primarchs and the legions so thank you!

tw: manipulation, breeding kink, discussion about a pregnant womans body, talks about miscarriage, child death (PLEASE someone let me know if I miss a tag)

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

You had such a glow to your skin when he first saw you. He was told that pregnant women had a glow to them and you certainly glowed. It was more of a passing interest in his serfs he was always a nosy and gregarious one and you had mentioned how you'd have to be transferred to lighter labor soon not realizing the primarch was listening to your conversations.

The hesitation upon your dark lips when the other serfs, in their gossip, had asked about the father. The tight line that your lips had become... "I'm having this child by immaculate conception." You said causing the others to laugh but Horus could tell... he could tell that you were on your own not by your own choice. And that thought caused him to roil. All of his sons were someone else's son at some point and then they were made to be his... sometimes there was a choice to be made into an Astartes... and sometimes there was no choice. Perhaps it was his inhumanity or perhaps hyper-humanity that caused him to be confused as to why you continued on... and why it sounded like you had been abandoned.

Perhaps Horus was glad in some sense that you had been abandoned by the uncaring father as you made something itch in the back of his skull and eventually even he could no longer ignore it. You wilted in his presence under his gaze, like all mortals did at first, to be in the presence of a demigod... the hand pressed over your slightly swollen stomach to protect it. But Horus simply played innocent in his intentions asking about the child... what it was like as he had been handmade by the Emperor and so this aspect of being human was lost upon him and his brothers.

The glow to your skin returned with each visit he made, his fingers caressing your stomach and eventually the poisoned thought latched like a newborn to the teat... what if you could bear his sons? You try your best to not be a burden to the Primarch, your request to transfer denied, he simply says its all from curiosity... but that lie dies quickly as your body goes through more changes... once you enter your second trimester.

Your breasts leak, he can smell it... the slow dribbling from your engorged breasts. The grunts from you as you press your hand against your rounding stomach... the fascination from other serfs and even his sons and the sparkle in your eyes as a tiny foot kicks against the hand. You had other side effects and had tried to run from him during one of them... spikes in arousal and sensitivity. You once more wilted under his gaze when you realized the Primarch could smell you... and the lie for why he kept you around died.

You were far too fearful to take his cock, far too sensitive... his fingers were almost too much and yet you rode his hand... riding his digit deep inside of your fluttering cunt with the vigor of a sex starved woman. Horus' mouth latched to your breast suckling on the tasteless discharge and he could feel the way your cunt gripped around his finger with each suckle. He could feel the tiny foreign body inside of you when he pressed against your swollen stomach. And he wanted it gone. He felt kinship in the way that certain males in animals will commit infanticide to try to get the mother fertile again as it was slowly becoming clear that simply hoping you would miscarry wasn't going to happen. But still... he should have warned you to not partake in his food... you didn't know what things he could ingest.

He loved seeing you like this, his hands supporting your weight as his cock slowly pushed in and out of you as tears were rolling down your face as it was too much yet not enough. You cried out his name in weak whimpers trying to close your legs one moment and the next trying to open them wider. He could pretend for a moment that your swollen belly was full of a child that was his. He wanted an actual son of Horus from you. He wanted to create the human chimera that all humans were to be made of... that biological mashup of his DNA mixed with yours... he wanted that. He was reminded once the haze of lust had passed, and as he stole succor from your breasts that the life inside of you wasn't his. It was from a man who abandoned you without a second thought... it confused the Primarch as to why you would raise the offspring of a man who did not care about the life you were bearing? Why reward him for his genetic duty of passing on his genes? Why would he have to wait up to a year before you would be ready to have his son?

It was doubtful that he would be there... be there to snuff out the life that came from you but he told the midwife what he wanted... and who was she to disobey? And he was right as he had been called away to bring the heel of the crusade onto the neck of some fool who thinks they could withstand the might of the Emperor. When he came back you were withdrawn... having to be ordered to come to him as the depression had claimed you. He did his best to sooth you and not revel in satisfaction that seemed that the child upon leaving your womb was far too weak... you did not hear that triumphant cry of life and that was the last you saw of your babe.

Your breasts were swollen with milk for a dead child... you still cried for the life you had grown to love... cooing lovingly to the thing inside of you. Horus soothes his anger with the fact that if this had been your child with him you would have still wept so greatly. You hardly notice your back in his bed as the Primarch pulled open your front and latched onto your breast feeling the liquid dribble out as your hand instinctively went to the back of his head as he nursed. He would say it was to relieve the pain your breasts were in... but he wanted to distract you. He drained one breast dry before moving to the other drinking up the meager amount of milk meant for a tiny stomach.

Sniffling weakly as your fingers move over his scalp as he kisses you soothing you asking you if you still want a baby. The tears that fall from your eyes as you answer your primarch truthfully... you still wanted to hold the tiny body that they wouldn't let you see... you never got to say goodbye... "Yes." You say so sadly as he kisses you with that charming look in his eyes.

"Then I will make it so my dear... recover and when you are better I swear that you shall have a healthy child by next solar year." Horus says kissing you softly... and soon enough he will replace his father and bring actual peace to the Imperium. And you will help bring about such change now that your womb is empty... and once it is ready... he is certain to fill it once again with his brood.

[mpregandproud]

The man of my dreams

Getting pregnant was the best thing I've ever done in my life. I used to be the invisible kid in class. I was skinny, unattractive, nobody noticed me. I never had a boyfriend, and I had a hard time finding a guy to fuck. But sometimes life has surprises in store.

One night at a fraternity party I got drunk and woke up the next day naked on a bed. I didn't remember anything that had happened the day before, but something in me felt different.

It took me a couple of weeks to figure out what it was. That night I don't remember I got pregnant. I was carrying a baby.

A month into the pregnancy, my belly was already showing a little. My skin glowed, my hair looked better than ever and my body grew. Something clicked with my fellow faculty members because from that day on I started getting visitors in my room or they would offer to accompany me to the bathrooms every time I had to leave class to pee. And it only got better as the months went by.

Frank, Isaak, Daniel, David, Aaron, Scott, Bruce, Bob… there wasn't a guy who didn't approach me since I got pregnant. Tall, muscular, blondes, brunettes, attractive, and with huge dicks. My ass had never had such a good time as it had these past few months.

But there was only one problem. The one guy I'd always liked, the one I'd been talking to at that party nine months ago, George, was the only one who hadn't paid any attention to me. He was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Tall, athletic, intelligent, dark hair and beard. Someone mysterious, but successful. The man of my life, even if he didn't know it yet.

These last few weeks, on the other hand, my sexual activity has slowed down quite a bit. My huge belly, I am expecting triplets after all, prevents me from going to class every day. The doctor has recommended me to rest, so my encounters have gone. My pleasure lately is to eat like a pig, while lying in my underwear on the couch watching episodes of Friends.

One of these days, while I was devouring two huge pizzas, the doorbell rang. With great difficulty I got up and approached the door. I had to stop a couple of times, because for the last couple of days the contractions have started. I'm about to give birth, it's nothing unusual.

When I opened the door my water almost broke. The man that was waiting only lives in my dreams. George was standing there, wearing a tight white T-shirt that showed all his muscles. I didn't know how to react, I didn't know what to say, I was speechless:

- "Hello, handsome" - He said to me with a perfect smile.

- "H... h... hi. What are you doing here?" - I answered with a blush on my face. Was that a dream I was seeing?

- "I think you have something that's mine… ours. Don't you?"

- "What do you mean?" - I was speechless again. What would I want to say.

- "Nine months ago we were together... don't you remember? I was scared after fucking you, it was my first time with a man and I never felt that good with someone. I was stupid, I ran away and I haven't dared to come back here".

- "You? Was it you? Did you get me pregnant?"

- "Yes, I think I did. I spent the night with you, we were together all the time and after many drinks you took me to bed."

- "Thank you. I couldn't say anything else..."

- "Thank you?"

- "Yes, thank you for giving me the greatest gift of my life." - We were both crying and smiling at the same time.

- "Get the over here!" - He grabbed my face with his two strong hands and kissed me with a passion I had never felt before.

We kissed and went to the bed. He helped me take off my boxers and ate my whole cock. Fuck, what is this, I've never been so hard. If I didn't cum four times I didn't cum any, and this had only just begun.

With the same confidence with which he appeared in my house he grabbed my belly on both sides and kissed every inch of my skin and sucked my breasts that were already a considerable size with milk. My body was filled with an electricity that I had never experienced before. I was in heaven. This is real love.

When I thought it was all over, he opened my legs and pushed his penis in. A slow, gentle movement. The gentleness, the pleasure, the rhythm. Again, this man is a sex god, and the father of my children. He is mine. He is mine. HE IS MINE.

And then... the waters broke. A whirlwind of water rushed out of me. The three little people who united us forever were coming. In the end I will not give birth alone, George is here with me. Dad and daddy, finally together.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Sailor Song (Rowan’s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Based on the song “Sailor Song” by Gigi Perez

Warnings: Mentions of sex, nothing in detail though!! Underage drinking, swearing, and a little angsty but it gets resolved! There is talk about complications of birth and death, but both Honey and baby are fine. If anything else please let me know <3

Au Masterlist!!

"I saw her in the rightest way, looking like Anne Hathaway Laughing while she hit her pen, and coughed, and coughed"

Quinn lay on the edge of his tiny dorm bed, the faint light from his desk lamp casting a soft glow over Honey’s face that was pressed gently into his chest. She had fallen asleep not long after he had nervously asked her out, lips still tingling with the kisses they shared after many years of denied feelings, her breath warm and rhythmic as her chest rose and fell. Her curls fanned out like a halo on the pillow, and her lips curved into a sleepy smile that made his heart swell with an overwhelming sense of joy as he squeezed the hand that still firmly held his.

He still couldn't quite believe it Just hours ago, he had been unpacking his dorm, rehearsing the words of a love confession in his head, his palms sweaty and his heart pounding as she helped him decorate his dorm. 

Honey had been his friend for so long, her laughter a constant melody in his life, her presence a continual source of comfort. Asking her out had felt like the most monumental risk. Yet here she was, curled into his side, his chest filled with a sense of completion as it settled that this was what he had been missing for years 

Quinn brushed a stray curl from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm, and he marvelled at how perfectly she fit against him. This moment, this quiet intimacy was everything he had ever dreamed of.

He shifted slightly, trying not to disturb her, as he pulled her flush against his chest. The faint hum of the campus at night filtered through the open window, a reminder that the world outside was still turning, indifferent to the love in this tiny room.

He was forever thankful that his roommate, Josh, had opted to stay out with the rest of the team, rather than running into their shared dorm and ruining the peace that currently occupied the air.

Honey stirred, murmuring something in her sleep, and Quinn held his breath, afraid to wake her. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his collarbone, and then a second kiss was placed on his cheek before she flipped over so he could spoon her, making more room for him on the tiny mattress, she sighed contentedly as he settled against her. The simplicity of the gesture, the ease with which she reached for him, made his chest tighten with emotion.

He gazed at her, propped up on one arm so he could memorize every detail of her face—the curve of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes, the way her nose crinkled slightly as she dreamed. He wanted to capture this moment forever and never let it go. 

It was a feeling he had never known before, this certainty that she was the one.

Quinn had always been a dreamer when it came to Honey, lost in his thoughts, but the reality of it all had become better than any dream he could conjure. He could see their future together, a series of shared laughter, quiet nights and whispered secrets. He imagined their life in Vancouver, cooking meals in cramped apartments, supporting each other through life's challenges, starting a family, and celebrating each other's triumphs.

That was all if she would have him for that long.

He had heard people talk about love at first sight, but this was different. It was love that had grown over time, rooted in friendship and nurtured by their ever-changing lives. It was a love that hadn't appeared out of thin air, gentle and persistent until one day he realized it had taken hold of him completely.

He gently placed his heart into her hand to keep, and hopefully, she wouldn't be giving it back any time soon.

Honey shifted again, snuggling closer to him, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, and closed his eyes, content to just hold her and listen to her breathe.

He didn't need grand declarations or elaborate gestures. This was enough—this simple, perfect night with Honey asleep in his arms. He knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of their story, and he couldn't wait to see where it would lead them.

-

"And then she came up to my knees, begging, "Baby, would you please, do the things you said you'd do to me, to me?"

Quinn watched as the party buzzed around them, the music loud and the blue LED lights that hung around the room dim. They were tucked away in a quiet corner, his hand gently placed on Honey's hip as they watched their friends let loose.

She leaned into him, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "Can I kiss, Q?"

Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, but filled with a familiar sweetness that made his heart race. He turned to face her, his eyes locking onto hers. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a tender kiss.

Honey sighed against his lips, her hands sliding up to cup his face, beer forgotten on the table next to her as she clung to him in this all-consuming kiss. Quinn's arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, lost in each other. 

When they finally pulled apart, Honey's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and something deeper. She bit her lower lip, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as her fingers toyed with the collar of his t-shirt, "let's get out of here, go to my dorm," she said a little suggestively, her voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music.

Quinn nodded, his hand slipping into hers as they navigated through the crowd, biding their goodbyes and ignoring the wolf whistles from Quinn's teammates. The night air was cool against her skin as they stepped outside, the street lights casting a soft glow as they made their way back to campus.

Inside, the door barely closed behind them before Honey pulled Quinn into another kiss, more urgent this time. Their hands roamed, exploring familiar yet unknown territory. They moved together with a sense of urgency, shedding clothes and mumbling about their shared nerves in the dim light of her room.

Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, as they tumbled onto the bed. Laughter erupted from Honey as she placed sloppy kisses all over Quinn's face, from the bridge of his nose to his jaw Quinn's hands traced the contours of Honey's collarbones, eliciting soft moans that sent shivers down his spine as his lips attached to her neck, finding her sweet spot just under her ear. 

They moved in sync, movements of need and eagerness, making up for lost time with every touch, every kiss.

Quinn's heart raced as he kissed his way down Honey's neck, her back arching in response as he unclasped her bra. She whispered his name, a plea and a promise all at once as he gawked at how beautiful she was. They came together, their out-of-breath and slightly sweaty bodies entwined as their cheeks lit up with blush, lying comfortably in each other's hold, in awe of one another.

Quinn had never understood the difference between simply having sex and 'making love', and as cringy as it sounded, there wasn't a moment or movement in that dorm that night that wasn't fuelled by something that very closely resembled love in its purest form.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other's arms, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Honey rested her head on Quinn's chest, her fingers tracing little stars on his freckled skin as he played with the ring on her other hand. 

Honey lifted her head, her eyes meeting Quinn's, "I love you," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and certainty. Quinn smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "I love you too, Hun," he replied, his voice steady and sure.

This was it for him, he realized. He had found his home, his love, in Honey.

-

"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor? And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavour?"

Quinn and Honey sat side by side at the small desk in his dorm room, their legs pressed against one another as they searched through the textbooks and notes spread out before them. They had been studying for hours, the pressure of upcoming exams weighing on them, but the comfort of each other’s presence made the task a little more bearable.

Honey glanced over at Quinn, her heart swelling with affection as she watched his brows furrowed with a concentration on the book in his hands. She loved watching him like this, seeing the dedication he poured into his studies, it was hot.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Honey leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, lips brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt as she hummed at the feeling. Quinn looked up, surprised but pleased, his intense expression softening into a smile.

“What was that for?” Honey shrugged, a smile dancing on her lips, as she flattened out the material of his sleeve where her lips left a mark, “just felt like it,” she mumbled as her cheeks turned a little pink, but there was something deeper in her gaze, something she had been wanting to say.

Quinn set down his pen, turning to face her fully, his knee brushing against her thigh, her hand moving out to touch him, “what’s on your mind?” She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. Like, I love you. More than I ever thought was possible.”

She said it so nonchalantly like it was the easiest sentence to roll off of her tongue. It was enough to make him want to lean forward and press gentle, slightly sloppy kisses across her face.

He reached out, taking her hand in his, “I love you too.”

Honey shook her head, her eyes glistening with emotion, “No, you don’t understand. I mean, I love you so much it scares me sometimes. You’re my best friend, my partner, my everything. Being with you feels like coming home, and I’ve never felt this way before. It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way.”

Quinn’s heart swelled with emotion as he listened to her. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the depth of her feelings reflected in her gaze as she chewed on her bottom lip. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his chest.

“I feel the same way,” he whispered into her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Honey pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his, “promise me you'll always love me, even if this doesn't work and we go back to being friends,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I never want a world where you aren't in it." Quinn cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had escaped down her cheeks, “I promise,” he said, his voice filled with unwavering conviction, “but there will never be a time again where we aren't together, you're it for me.”

Honey smiled through her tears, leaning in to kiss him. It was a kiss filled with love and promises, a kiss where everything else faded away—the stress of exams, the worries about the future. All that mattered was the love they had for each other, a love that was deep and lasting.

-

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my saviour My mom says that she's worried, but I'm covered in this favour"

Ellen stepped out of her car, the campus growing busy with students heading and leaving classes. It had been a few months since she had seen Quinn, and his phone calls had become less frequent, which worried her. As a mother, she couldn’t help but fret over her eldest son’s well-being, even though he constantly reassured her that everything was fine.

She made her way through the familiar pathways of the university, memories of moving Quinn into his dorm flashing through her mind. When she reached his building, she took a deep breath and called him to let her into his building.

A moment later, the door swung open, and Quinn stood there, surprise and delight lighting up his face as he pulled her into a hug, “What are you doing here?” “I wanted to check on you,” Ellen said with a smile, as she pulled away and flattened out his slightly outgrown hair, “you haven’t been calling as much, and I got worried.” Quinn chuckled as he led her down the hallway and two flights of stairs to his dorm, “I’m sorry. Things have just been busy with school. But I promise, I’m doing great.”

She stepped into his room, eyes landing on him as she studied his face. He looked healthy and happy, a certain glow about him that hadn’t been there the last time she saw him. “You look good, Quinn. Really good.” “I feel good,” he replied with a shrug, a secret smile playing on his lips. 

“I was just about to go grab lunch. Do you want to join me?” “Of course,” Ellen said, feeling a wave of relief washes over her. Seeing him so happy eased the worry that had been gnawing at her. Balancing the life of three growing boys had always been a struggle, but not being able to constantly see Quinn and make sure he was okay was one of the biggest challenges.

They walked to a nearby café, chatting about his classes and the projects he was working on, talking a little about the team, but knowing she would rather hear about his grades than practices. As they settled into a cozy booth, the door opened, and Honey walked in, her face lighting up when she saw Quinn.

“Hey, Q!” she called, making her way over to their table, “I thought I’d find you here.” A grin rested on his lips as he watched her face light up at the sight of Ellen, a second mom to Honey throughout high school, "Hun!" His Mom stood up to pull the girl into an embrace before asking her to join the two of them for lunch.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." "Nonsense, you're family!" 

Ellen couldn’t help but notice how Quinn’s demeanour had subtly changed. He was more relaxed, more at ease, and his smile was wider than she had seen in a long time. Honey and Quinn exchanged glances and soft touches that spoke volumes about their relationship.

As they figured out their orders, Honey was the first to stand up, offering to order for all of them. "I'll get our food. You two catch up," she said with a smile, her eyes lingering on Quinn for a moment longer than necessary.

Ellen watched as they parted, noting the silent exchange between them. Their eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words might fail to express. Honey walked away, glancing back with a small, knowing smile before joining the line.

Once Honey was out of earshot, Ellen turned to Quinn. "Is there something going on between the two of you?" she asked gently, noticing how Quinn’s face turned a light shade of pink. "It's still new," Quinn admitted, nodding slightly. "But she makes me really happy."

Ellen's smile widened as she looked over at Honey, who was now waiting in line. She could see the genuine affection in Quinn’s eyes, a brightness she hadn’t seen in a long time. Catching Quinn’s gaze in the corner of her eye, Honey grinned, Ellen watched as her heart swelled with happiness.

"Well, I'm glad," Ellen said, her eyes misting with emotion. "Happy looks really good on you." Quinn's smile was wide as his attention shifted back to the table. "Thanks, Mom."

They chatted comfortably, the easy rapport between mother and son bringing back memories of home. Ellen felt a profound sense of relief and joy seeing Quinn so content, so clearly in love.

When Honey returned with their orders, she set the plates down with a cheerful smile. "Here we go! One turkey club for you, Mrs. Hughes, a wrap for Quinn, and a Caesar salad for me." "Thank you, Honey," Ellen said warmly, her eyes twinkling as she looked at the young woman who had been a fixture in their lives for so long. "It’s nice to see you both so happy."

Honey glanced at Quinn, their eyes meeting with a shared understanding and affection, "It’s nice to be happy," she replied, her voice soft but filled with meaning.

-

"And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong I sleep so I can see you because I hate to wait so long I sleep so I can see you and I hate to wait so long"

Vancouver was making Quinn miserable, hockey was a dream, but the isolation felt never-ending. Quinn sat alone in his apartment in Vancouver, staring out at the city lights that stretched across the horizon. Despite the excitement and the fulfillment of his lifelong dream, a deep sense of emptiness gnawed at him. 

He felt incomplete, a part of his heart missing.

Unable to bear the loneliness any longer, he picked up his phone and dialled Honey’s number. The phone rang a few times before her familiar, sweet voice filled his ears.

“Hey, Q,” Honey said, her voice warm but tinged with a sadness that matched his own. “Hey, Hun,” Quinn replied, his voice wavering slightly. He closed his eyes, savouring the sound of her voice, wishing he could reach through the phone and hold her close. “I miss you.” “I miss you too,” she whispered. 

He could hear the strain in her voice, the same struggle he was feeling reflected in her words. They talked for a little while, giving each other a rundown of their days, and she started filling him in on all the drama occurring within her sorority in his absence. But the conversation was laced with an unspoken tension, the looming threat of an inevitable decision hanging over them.

After a moment of silence, Quinn finally voiced the thoughts haunting him, “I think… I don’t know how to be a human without you anymore,” he confessed, his voice breaking, “everything here feels wrong.” A quiet sniffle sounded from the other end as Honey began wiping away her tears, "I get it, I'm proud of you, but this is really hard" she mumbled as she laid down on her tiny dorm mattress.

"I don’t know how much longer we can keep doing this”

This was it.

It had been a growing issue between the two of them, for the longest time, even before they were together it was Quinn and Honey, a collective, neither of them having to live life without the other in nearly seven years. This part of their life seemed dedicated to figuring themselves out independently rather than as a pair, as it had been for many years.

Honey’s silence was deafening, and Quinn’s heart sank. He could almost see her, sitting in her room in Michigan, tears in her eyes as she struggled to find the right words.

“Maybe… maybe we need to take a break,” Honey finally said, her voice barely audible. “We could wait till Christmas when we are both home and we can make the decision then, I don’t want us to end up resenting each other because of this distance.” Quinn’s chest tightened, and he felt a sharp pain in his heart, they'd both be home in three weeks, three weeks to decide if the distance would make or break what seemed to be a perfect relationship, "Christmas it is."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to hold them back. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking, “more than I could explain.”

First love is strange, it's about all or nothing, and right now he felt like he didn't have an ‘all’ to give, he had to go into his dreams, leaving his love back in Michigan.

“I love you too, Quinn,” Honey replied, her voice filled with sorrow. “And that’s why this is so hard.”

They lingered on the phone for a few more minutes, neither wanting to say goodbye. But eventually, they had to. Quinn ended the call, feeling a hollow ache in his chest.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of his apartment feeling more oppressive than ever. The dream he had worked so hard to achieve now felt bittersweet, the absence of Honey a constant, aching reminder of what he was missing.

-

"She took my fingers to her mouth The kind of thing that makes you proud That nothing else had ever, worked out, worked out"

Summers were always a time of rest, a golden glow cast itself over the Hughes brother's new lake house, a little gift to themselves after signing the ELCs and starting that new chapter of their lives.

Tonight was the night everyone would be back in town, party to celebrate the summer and finally get to see everyone after months of being apart.

Quinn stood hands in the sink, washing all of the plates used at dinner before he joined the rest of the party outside for a bonfire. His eyes caught a glimpse of Honey out of his peripheral vision, and his breath caught in his throat as he turned a little to see her standing so prettily in a sundress, hair cut short with bangs, and a soft smile dancing on her lips.

"Want help?" she asked as she placed a small stack of dirty plates on the counter next to the sink. "If you wouldn't mind, I need someone to dry the dishes," he pointed to the dry cloth hanging on the handle of the stove.

She smiled and made her way beside him to start drying. Something was so soft and domestic about this moment, the two of them bumping shoulders every couple of seconds as they worked together.

"I never got to say it, but congrats on the Calder nomination, you were amazing this year," she said softly as their fingers brushed while he placed a freshly cleaned plate into her hand. "Thank you, Hun," the use of her nickname made her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as they stared at each other for a second, Quinn's eyes dipped to her lips and then back up to her eyes, a quiet asking of permission to kiss her after so many months of being apart.

She leaned in as her hand gripped his forearm for balance, his soapy hands finding her hips as their lips almost met. But before they could kiss Jack and Honey's older brother Chase stumbled into the room causing the couple to jump away from each other.

"Glad to see you two getting along," Jack mused, unaware of the moment he just ruined as he rummaged through the fridge for his coolers. A knowing grin worked its way onto Chase's face as he looked at Honey, taking note of the slight embarrassment and flustered expression that rested on her cheeks.

"We'll see you out there?" Chase asked his little sister. "Yeah! Just finishing the dishes," her voice slightly cracking as she looked back to Quinn who was nodding and returning to the dishes that were almost done.

As Chase left the kitchen to return to the company outside, Honey let out a little laugh at how the two reacted to being caught. A little piece of her hurt that she felt the need to hide her love for Quinn.

"I can finish these so you can go be with our friends," Quinn motioned for her to start heading outside. She shook her head as she picked the cloth back up, "Not letting you clean up all on your own, I'm in it for the long run," she gave him eyes that told him her words were much deeper than she was letting on, her hip bumping into his as he nodded slowly.

"I really like your dress by the way. Blue suits you," he said, running one of his fingers over the little blue flower pattern on her hip. "Thank you," she mumbled as she returned to her job of drying and putting away the dishes.

Later in the night Honey and Quinn were the only two left at the fire, waiting for it to go down before they finally retired to their rooms. The crackling of the flames and the gentle noise of rippling water hitting the shore filled the silence between them, but it was a comfortable silence.

Quinn looked over at Honey, the firelight casting a warm glow on her face, her cheeks a little sunburnt and her hair a little messy as she nursed the cider in her hands, "I’m really glad you’re here," he said softly. "Me too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at him, "I’ve missed you, Quinn. More than I can say."

Quinn patted the spot on the bench beside him, silently asking her to come to sit with him. She silently, and slightly tipsily made her way beside him, cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned against him. His hand found hers as they stared at the dying fire in front of them. 

"I’ve missed you too. It’s been hard without you." Honey squeezed his hand, her eyes meeting his. "I know. But we’ll figure it out, won’t we?"

Quinn nodded, his heart full of hope. "Yeah, we will." Her head popped up a little to look him in the eyes, "I think you might be my soulmate,' she whispered as she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder. Quinn had no more words to give, just lowering his head a little to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

A kiss to make up for the months of radio silence, a kiss that spoke more words than he ever could, one that eased both of them into knowing that this was it, no matter how long apart, it seemed they would always find one another, whether it be here or Vancouver, there wouldn't be a time where this love felt wrong.

But a few weeks and a handful of hookups later, they both returned to their lives apart, sorrowful, but also with a little promise that after senior year maybe the life they had brainstormed together could be a reality.

-

"And lately, I've tried other things, but nothing can capture the sting Of the venom, she's gonna spit out right now"

Quinn was startled awake at the noise of his phone buzzing in his ear, his do not disturb was turned on, meaning that the only people who could get a hold of him now were either his mother or Honey. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he rolled over to see Honey's caller ID on his screen. A photo of the two of them at their high school graduation posing for a photo for their mothers, adoration filled their eyes as they laughed at something Honey had mumbled in his ear.

He put the phone up to his ear to hear a quiet cry on the other under, followed by a hiccup as a sorry left her mouth. "Hun? What's wrong?" his head was a little dizzy with sleep as he propped himself up on his elbow. "Quinn...” Her voice was shaky, “I’m so sorry to call you like this. I’m... I’m drunk, and I just needed to talk to you.”

“It’s okay, Hun. I’m here. What happened?” he asked, fully sitting up and focusing on her. “There was this party for homecoming at one of the frats, the team invited me,” she began, her words slurring slightly and she wiped away the stream of tears down her face, “and I was just trying to have fun, but then someone kissed me, and... and I didn’t stop it right away. I hate myself for it, Quinn. I hate that I even thought for a second it wouldn’t always be you.”

Quinn’s heart ached to hear the pain in her voice. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to live your life. We’re not together right now, remember? I’m not upset.” “I still feel terrible,” she sobbed, “It feels wrong because it’s not you. It’s never been anyone but you.”

Quinn smiled a little at that confession but quickly was brought back down to earth by the sound of her cries on the other end.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his own emotions, “I get it, Hun. I really do. I won’t lie and say I’m not a little jealous, but I'm not upset.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with relief. “I just... I needed to hear your voice, needed to know you don’t hate me.” “I could never hate you,” Quinn said softly, “you’re a part of me, always have been, always will be.”

They talked for a while longer, Honey’s sobs gradually subsiding as Quinn reassured her. She eventually fell asleep, makeup smudged down her face, but comfy in her bed and still on the call while Quinn listened to her soft breathing, a mix of longing and heartache filling him.

After ending the call, Quinn lay back down, unable to stop thinking about Honey. The thought of her with someone else stung, but he knew they were both trying to navigate their lives in the best way they could. He wondered when their time would finally come when the distance and the obstacles would no longer keep them apart.

-

"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor? And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavour?"

Honey's senior year had come and gone in the blink of an eye. She loved every second of it, but she was so ready to start the next chapter of her life. Now, she was on the hunt for her first full-time job, aiming for something in the media field in the Michigan area.

She also gave in to her curiosity and looked into jobs in the Vancouver area as well, pretending not to be upset as she job searched, fully aware that there wasn't, and probably never would be, a set plan for her to move in with Quinn any time soon. She and Quinn had yet to discuss whether their futures aligned. Silently, she hoped he would ask her to get back together because she knew there was no one else for her. However, she wasn't willing to be the girl who inserted herself into his new life.

She stood in front of the mirror in her room, adjusting her graduation cap and gown. A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the clock, figuring it was one of her parents coming to check on her before the ceremony. 

When she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat.

There stood Quinn, looking slightly nervous but smiling. He was here, in the flesh, despite the long distance and his demanding schedule.

“Quinn,” she whispered, tears already forming in her eyes as she flung herself into his arms for the first time in nearly a year, “You told me you couldn't make it.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, arms still wrapped around the girl as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “you thought I wasn't gonna come?” "I did, and I was mad at you for it," she gently smacked him in the chest as he laughed.

Honey pulled away momentarily, her hands cupping his face, thumbs running over the beard he was growing out as she stared at him with adoration.

"I could hear the anger in your message," he whispered as his hands found solace on her waist. She rolled her eyes and pulled away, beckoning him into her room so she could finish getting ready while they continued their talk.

Quinn caught her by the wrist before she could get too distracted with the final touches. Her eyes dropped to his hands, in the one not gently holding her was a tiny velvet box, "Quinn if that ring I'll be so mad at you," she whispered jokingly as he shook his head. "Not a ring, but it is a question," he mumbled as he pressed the box into the palm of her hand.

She furrowed her brows and looked down, opening it to reveal a key that lay gently on a piece of satin. Quinn stood feeling a little stupid, and vulnerable, as she looked back up at him with a softened expression.

"Is this a key to your house?" "It is?" "It's a key to my apartment, and I know you said you didn't know where you were gonna end up after school, but a little selfish piece of me wants you all to myself in Vancouver," he mumbled as her gaze switched between the key and him.

The hand still in his grasp found the side of his face as she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. A silent remedy to all the hurt over the past few years as she dropped the little velvet box on the ground, key still firmly in her grasp as her arms wrapped around his neck and she deepened the kiss.

"Finish getting ready, we're gonna need to leave soon," he mumbled into her skin as he looked down at his watch.

She smiled as she fixed his tie and then pushed him onto her bed and out of her way as she looked around the room for her jewelry box. Quinn laughed, watching her with amusement as she darted around the room, trying to gather the last of her things.

“Where is that necklace?” she muttered to herself, rifling through a drawer. Quinn stood up and walked over, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down.

“Take a breath,” he said softly, “you look beautiful already.” Honey paused, taking a deep breath as she met his eyes. “Thanks, Q,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips, “I just want everything to be perfect today.” “It will be,” he assured her, handing her the necklace she had been searching for, “and I’ll be right there with you.”

She took the necklace from his hand, her fingers brushing against his. “I know,” she said, her voice softer, “that means everything to me.”

Quinn helped her clasp the necklace around her neck, his fingers lingering for a moment before he stepped back to admire her. “Ready?” he asked. “Ready,” she nodded, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She took his hand, feeling a sense of completeness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As they walked out of her room and down the hall, Honey couldn’t help but feel that, despite all the uncertainty and challenges, everything was finally falling into place. Quinn was here, and with him by her side, she felt ready to face whatever the future held.

-

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my saviour I know that you've been worried, but the truth is in my favour"

A little over a year later and life was seemingly as perfect as it could get, Quinn stood in the doorway of the lake house's cozy living room, his heart swelling as he watched Honey sleep on the couch. The soft glow of the evening light framed her peaceful face, a faint smile resting on her lips as her hand rested gently on her growing baby bump, and the glint of her wedding ring caught his eye, reminding him of how lucky he was.

The past year has been a whirlwind of happy accidents and full of so much love. 

Honey found out she was pregnant a few months after she settled down into Quinn's apartment. Many tears were shed and a lot of anxiety filled those days, but there was nothing the two were more certain of than the love they knew they were going to give their child. Next came the wedding. Some might call it a 'shotgun' wedding, but to Quinn, it was simply a long time coming.

It seemed life was testing them, but they were handling it all with such ease, that there was nothing they couldn't do as a team.

Quinn quietly maneuvered his way around to the kitchen to get to the living room, carefully sitting down next to her sleeping figure as his eyes took notice of the pretty expression on her face, his fingers running through her curls as she let out a tired hum and unconsciously placed her head in his lap

His chest filled with a sense of gratitude as her hand subconsciously found him and placed it on her bump, mumbling about "kicking" as their son ran his foot along Quinn's palm.

He smiled softly and sat back up, fingers returning to her scalp as his eyes remained on her face.

Her eyes gently opened and immediately went to him, catching him in the act of staring as his hand found hers. "Why are you staring at me?" Quinn reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender, “because I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Honey’s eyes softened, “I love you too, Quinn,” she murmured tears in her eyes as she squeezed his hand gently. "Why are you crying?" "Cause you're so sweet, and I’m so pregnant" she mumbled as she used her extra hand to fan her face before looking up at a grinning Quinn.

Quinn leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his heart full of love and contentment. As he pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter their challenges, they would always have each other. And in that moment, Quinn felt like the luckiest man in the world.

-

"And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long I sleep so I can see you, and I hate to wait so long"

The soft glow of nightlights illuminated the nursery as Honey and Quinn moved quietly, their hearts full as they prepared their little ones for bed. Both Hayden and Warren were tucked into the same bed, snuggled up in their pyjamas after a long day on the boat. Now, they were freshly showered and all tired out.

Honey read them a book, but she didn’t even get through half of it before they both fell asleep in each other's arms, faces scrunched up as they hugged one another and slept peacefully.

Quinn grinned as he tapped his wife, pointing to the two sleeping little ones, then motioned for them to leave and start getting themselves ready for bed. They tiptoed out of the kids' room and into their own, grins on their faces as they both started their nighttime routines.

Honey finished brushing her teeth and stepped into their bedroom, feeling the comforting presence of their shared space. Quinn was already there, setting his phone down on the nightstand. He turned to her, his eyes filled with warmth.

“You know, we’ve got some pretty cute kids,” Quinn said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Honey laughed softly, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, resting her head against his chest. “It’s hard to believe how quickly they’re growing up, they used to be so little.”

Quinn pressed a kiss to the top of her head, as Honey crawled over top of him and to her side of the bed, a grin growing on her face as her fingers raked through his slightly outgrown hair, just the way she liked it. He looked over, watching as her eyes landed on his lips, her tucked under her teeth as she watched him lean over to press gentle kisses down her chest, his touch filled with love as he toyed with the straps of her tank top. 

Honey cupped his jaw, bringing his face up to hers, thumb running over his bearded cheek before she placed a peck on his jaw and then pulled away to look at him again. “I’m so happy we found each other. I can’t imagine my life without you.” Quinn’s heart swelled at her words, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, “I love you, more than words can say.”

And that is how their night went—quiet confessions and lots of love as they talked through the night, sharing many intimate moments both verbally and physically until they were too tired out to continue.

-

"And we can run away to the walls inside your house I can be the cat, baby, you can be the mouse"

The sterile scent of the hospital room mixed with the faint beeping of monitors had Quinn in a panic. He sat beside Honey’s bed, cradling their newborn daughter, Maeve, in his arms.

His eyes were red-rimmed and wet with tears, his heart still pounding from the harrowing hours they had just endured. It seemed that every second his eyes weren't on either the baby or Honey he immediately went into fight or flight.

Honey lay pale but conscious, her eyes heavy but filled with love as she watched Quinn with their daughter. no one speaking as they let the tension sit in the air for a little, Honey so tired out, and Quinn unable to string a sentence together without the possibility of crying

Quinn looked down at Maeve, her tiny face peaceful and serene as he pressed against his bare chest. The overwhelming relief that she was healthy clashed with the residual terror of almost losing Honey. He gently rocked Maeve, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke to her.

He looked back up to the honey who was staring at him silently, "do you want to talk about it?" she said, voice strained and tired as Quinn looked at her with tears in his eyes.

"I dont think I’ve ever been that scared in my life," he whispered as his extra hand reached out to hold hers, a sad smile on her face as she nodded, "When they told me there were complications, I… I didn’t know what to do. The thought of raising our kids without you, of living without you—it was unbearable.”

The sentence itself was enough to make him cry, maybe even throw up, the thought of doing day-to-day life without her was unimaginable.

"I'm here though, and you won't ever have to worry about that again okay? I'm just fine, a little tired, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," she said reassuringly as her hand squeezed his with as much of her strength as she could. Quinn dropped her hand momentarily to wipe his tears as he nodded, trying to push all of it to the side and now focus on both Honey and Maeve being healthy.

“She’s perfect, just like you,” he said softly as Honey looked down at the bundle in his arms. "Can I hold her? I haven't gotten to yet," she asked so sweetly as Quinn smiled and nodded, standing up gently to place their little girl on her chest before he slipped his shirt back on.

"She looks just like you," Quinn brought his chair even closer to the side of her bed to lean in closer to the two of them. "She has your curls though, first of our babies that look like me," she beamed as Quin reached forward brushing a strand of hair from Honey’s face.

Quinn leaned in once again, pressing a tender kiss to Honey’s forehead, “I’m so grateful for you, I hope you know that,” he confessed as she looked at him with tears in her eyes, leaning forward to press her forehead against his.

They sat there in the quiet of the hospital room, their hearts beating in sync. The fear and anxiety began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Maeve stirred slightly in Honey’s arms, a small, contented sigh escaping her lips as her little fingers gripped Honey's.

And at that moment, with their new baby girl safely in their arms and the worst behind them, they knew it was true. Together, they could face anything.

-

"And we can laugh off things that we know nothing about We can go forever until you wanna sit it out"

The car ride back from dropping Maeve off at the airport was a quiet one, she was heading off to start university, her big sister was already living in New York and promised her parents to take good care of her and help her get set up and comfortable in her dorm. Quinn and Honey drove in silence, each lost in their thoughts as the reality of their new life settled in. They were now empty nesters, life remaining in Vancouver, the years had brought many changes, but Quinn and Honey Hughes had embraced each one with open hearts. 

Quinn's career on the ice had been remarkable, but now he found fulfillment in coaching, passing on his knowledge and passion to the next generation as the head coach of the Abbotsford Canucks. Honey, having made her mark in the business industry, had shifted her focus to organizing charities in the Vancouver area, using her skills to give back to the community.

Their home, once filled with the bustling energy of three children, was now a quieter place. Yet, it was still warm with love and laughter, often filled with visits from their kids who were now living their own lives.

Honey silently cried as they drove off in the opposite direction of the airport, Quinn's attention moved from the road to his crying wife. "What's wrong?" “I’m just thinking about how quickly it all went by. One moment, they were babies, and now… they’re all grown up and living their own lives.” Quinn squeezed her hand, feeling a lump form in his throat. “Yeah, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing them home from the hospital.”

Honey chuckled softly, a tear finally escaping down her cheek, “I’m so proud of them and us. We did a good job, didn’t we?” “We did,” Quinn agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “They’re amazing kids and good people, and that’s because of you. You’ve been the best mother they could ever ask for.” She smiled, leaning her head against the seat, “And you’ve been the best father and support system. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner through all of this.”

As they pulled into their driveway, the house stood quiet and serene, a stark contrast to the bustling home it once was. They got out of the car and walked inside, the silence enveloping them. Quinn took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that was settling in.

Honey wandered into the living room, looking at the family photos that adorned the walls. Pictures of birthdays, holidays, cup days, and everyday moments captured in time. She traced a finger over a photo of Maeve as a toddler, smiling up at the camera with a toothy grin while Hayden and Warren hugged her. 

Quinn came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “We’ve got a lot of great memories, don’t we?” “We do,” Honey whispered, leaning into him, her hands placed over the top of his.

“Now we get to make new ones, just the two of us.” He kissed her temple, feeling a sense of peace wash over him, “Yeah, we do.”

They spent the evening reminiscing, talking about their children and all the wonderful memories they had made. 

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Quinn turned to Honey, his hand resting on her cheek, “I love you,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve loved every moment of our journey together, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.” Honey smiled, tears filling her eyes once again as she rolled into his arms, “I love you too, Quinn. We’ve had an incredible life, and I'm excited for the rest of our lives.”They fell asleep in each other’s arms, comforted by the knowledge that while their roles as parents had changed, their love for each other and their family remained the same. And as they faced this new phase of life together, they knew they were far from empty. Their hearts were full, and their love would continue to guide them through whatever came next.

-

-

-

[sunny-mercya]

Chasing Shadows

Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Fandom -> Percy Jackson Series

Masterlist

Percy had known, more gotten it told—rather offhandedly and in a rude, dismissive and snarky snide manner—about your mental health from the very beginning, when he had first woken up in Camp Half-Blood.

It hadn't deterred him to befriend you—the skittish, anxious and shy boy, with a sunshine like smile and an heart filled with too much joy and genuine love.

So now, when summer vacation had started again for Percy—after almost a whole year since the Battle against Kronos rising had been won and over—to be back at Camp, hopefully for some tranquility and peaceful time, the very first thing he did—besides bringing his luggage into his Cabin—was to check up on you.

You're a full time camper since birth and the only few times you had gotten even remotely out of Camp, had been during two Quests—where Percy had dragged you along for non real purpose in all honesty—and the final battle. Percy knew how cramped and suffocating you felt in camp, so he hopes the present he had brought for you—would cast a smile on your lips.

Jogging around, having a hard time finding you as you weren't in your usual spots and neither were you in the Apollo Cabin—which wasn't your Cabin to stay in as Apollo isn't your other parental half, but due an oath binding between Apollo and Zephyr—your actual parental half—you (and all other children of Zephyr, which were none thought as you're the only one) are allowed to stay in the Apollo Cabin as well.

Percy had heard from Annabeth—which was a bit surprising as the both of you are not familiar with one another at all—and Will, which was to be expected as you're his unofficial—hopefully soon officially—adopted little brother, how your mental health had taken a drastic shift into a worsen state than it had been before.

When Percy checked the Medical wing and couldn't saw in there either, there had been only more place left in his mind—where you probably could've been hiding, a small offside shore by the lake—and Percy swore, if you're not there either, he would go to Chiron and and report you missing.

~~~

Percy thanked Zeus and possibly God above with sincere gratitude, that you're indeed by the lake.

Though when Percy was almost near you—eyes widen in shock, breath caught in his lungs, once he saw your appearance vaguely close enough—he skidded into an stop, stumbling a few steps forward and landed with his knees—probably scraping them open—in the rough pebble and rock filled sand.

He crawled the last bit of way, sitting himself right in front of you. You didn't seem to register him at all, in a sort of daze you are—in your own world, lost in empty thoughts—staring with with dull eyes, void of emotions and life, at him or more like through him as if he was glass.

»Hey, [Nickname], I almost thought about to report you missing. You're way too good at hiding, seashell,« chuckled Percy, placing his hands over yours, wanting to recoil his touch back instantly—shuddering in a flinch, when feeling how leathery and boney your hand was—but didn't, giving you a squeeze and interwoven his fingers with yours.

What happened to you? Thought Percy, swallowing hard as his breath threatened again to be stuck in his lungs. Licking over his lips—slightly nibbling and pulling on the skins.

»[Name],« he called your name, in a softer hushing voice, out again. Caressing with his thumbs over your hand and again you didn't reacted.

While giving you a short full body scan, Percy engulfed you slowly into a hug—pulling you close and slowly down to the sandy and scratchy pebble rock ground.

Your skin, which had a once healthy glow to it, looked now ashen pale sickly and had a leathery grease to it. Cheekbones, chubby baby fat gone, hollowed and sunken in—so were your eyes and eye-bags beneath it, darker than ever.

Percy could tell that you had lost significantly lost weight, leaving you more than just scrawny—boney skinny, with arms so thin like toothpicks and your ribcage showing through—in a sense—your shirt.

By Zeus, you looked more like a corpse than an actual human being.

~~~

When the sun had started to set ever so slowly in the late afternoon, Percy picked you up—realising, his mind now completely catching up on the fact how, weight losses you actually are—after talking your ear off with everything he had on his mind, unconsciously making you fall asleep and carrying you back to the Apollo Cabin.

Laying you down onto your bed, Percy sat down next to you for a few more minutes of moments, while Will—who had nodded at him solemnly when he had entered the Cabin with you—passed out from exhaustion—in his arms—had drawn the curtains close around your bed as you never liked it to sleep in such open space, where everyone could watch you.

Percy examined your wrist, seizing up the freshly healed scars—which definitely weren't from a fight or sparring—he had a hunch, a fucking good hunch, to what was happening to you and leaves you in nothing but a mere unresponsive hollowed shell of decay.

Clenching his eyes shut for a second and blinking away the tears, which started to build up with a pressuring burning in his eyes, Percy looked at Will—wanting some answers, clarification and confirmation.

»How long?«

»Probably started shortly after the final battle against Kronos and Luke.«

»Why didn't you guys told me sooner?«

Will shrugged his shoulders, folding some clothes—putting them down onto the empty chair—and checking your nightstand cabinet, mentally noting down which of your medications and prescriptions needed to be refilled.

»Everyone handles Traumatic experiences differently and I've noticed it rather late, which mind you I'm still upset with myself about it, the telltale signs. Then again, you know how my brother is, never wanting to burden anyone,«

Percy swallowed, remembering it clearly—the traumatic experience, Will was talking about;

Luke in your arms, whispering apologies with his last remaining breaths to you and you reassuring him, that while you're still angry with him—about his stupidity of decision he made—you would forgive him and telling a lie of how everything gonna be okay.

And then, Percy had only walked away for a few seconds to get Will or Lord Apollo, when a piercing scream—your scream, so full of desperation and sorrow—echoed through, Percy stopped dead in his tracks.

Turning around fast, Percy looked at you with an horrific expression. You who is covered in blood and other bodily things, which he not dared to say out loud.

Lukes blood to be exact, then Luke—while still talking to you, in his hoarsely dying voice—had exploded, Kronos last dying act of breath itself, into a gruesome splattering thickly bloody mass.

So yeah, Percy knew very well what Will was talking about and a topic which had never been addressed properly with you, without sending you into a hysterical panic.

~~~

When Percy had retired back to his own Cabin, falling easily into sleep, he knew the dream—which were more a foretelling—he had, was a sign that this summer was just like the last few ones—filled with prophecies and adventures.

And in all this where you—getting dragged around, hair turning from ash grey into a snow white and leaving you more vulnerable crippled than before—losing perhaps the last part of your sanity to continue to live on.

Percy felt scared. He couldn't lose you. He just couldn't and he won't as you're his everything—his seashell to his waves.