#here’s the rest of the tea… I call him and his wife out on their bs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago

Note

After last episode I’m thinking what if Aegon tells his wife what happened when he wakes up and she goes ballistic on Aemond because the man she loves was hurt in battle, by his own brother nevertheless. (Maybe she sees the dagger that normally sits in its sheath on Aegons hip)

Request: Aegon returning to King’s Landing after Rook’s Rest. His wife worries about him and stay by his side

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You became sick with worries when you saw Aemond and Vhagar return to King’s Landing, alone.

He walked into the Red Keep and called for a small council meeting to report about Rook’s Rest. You sat in the seat beside the King’s empty one, listening as Aemond recounted that the plan he and Ser Criston had come up with got crashed by the Blacks, who sent Rhaenys to Lord Staunton's aid.

‘’What of His Grace?’’ you asked, having seen Aegon depart from the dragonpit hours ago.

Aemond lowered his gaze, making the knot in your stomach tighten. No war was bloodier than one with dragons. Meleys was a large dragon, and she had battle experience. Mayhaps something happened to Sunfyre? You knew Aegon would refuse to leave his side if anything happened to him.

‘’There was an incident involving the King,’’ he began.

You held your breath as Aemond continued.

‘’While I was waiting for Cole's signal, His Grace engaged in a one-on-one with Meleys, but the latter brutally attacked Sunfyre, causing him — and Aegon — to freefall in a nearby forest with great force before I could take the sky and come to their aid.’’

Everyone fell completely silent.

You felt your vision blur as the room began to spin. Your face paled, and a cup of water was brought to you. You took a small sip, but you were still feeling unwell.

You should not have let him join the battle. He had no military training, it was reckless.

‘’Where is Aegon now?’’ the dowager Queen asked her younger son, her voice filled with maternal concern.

‘’At Rook's Rest,’’ Aemond replied. ‘’Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne are marching back to King’s Landing with what little remains of the Green army. They are bringing his critically injured body.’’

⁂

Three days later, Ser Criston’s army arrived at King’s Landing. You had not slept since being informed about Aegon’s fall, your mind filled with worried thoughts and dark fears. Your handmaiden had suggested you take a draught for sleep, but you declined. You couldn’t risk being in a deep sleep when Aegon would come in through the gates.

While they were parading Meleys's slain head through the city, six knights walked through the Keep, holding their King in a closed litter that hid him completely. He was brought to his chambers where several maester began working on him.

‘’Is he alive?’’ you asked, trying to get information on your husband's state.

The maesters couldn't answer, feeling a pulse so faint they didn't want to give you false hopes. You were escorted out as they worked on removing the armor which had melted onto Aegon's left arm. The image was not one a Queen should see, they said.

You found yourself at Alicent's doors, needing someone to share your fears and worries with. She invited you to sit on her couch and had camomile tea brought to you to calm your nerves. You had not been this anxious since the birth of your first child.

Noticing your shaking hands, the dowager Queen took the one who was not holding the teacup in hers. ‘’He’s strong, like his father,’’ she said softly. ‘’He’ll recover.’’

⁂

Late into the night, you were allowed back in the King’s chambers. Aegon had not yet woken, laying in the bed with his eyes closed. Half of his body was wrapped in bandages, covering the burns.

All he wanted was to prove the realm that he wasn't useless. And now, he laid in bed, badly burned with a broken hip, and numerous broken ribs.

You sat all night by Aegon's bedside, refusing to leave him.

‘’You should get some rest, Your Grace,’’ the Grand Maester suggested when he came in to check on Aegon in the morning, noticing you were still in yesterday’s dress.

He was probably right. Your eyes felt dry from lack of sleep and the shadows under them were dark.

‘’I will rest when he wakes,’’ you replied.

⁂

A tear fell down your face when Aegon woke days later, mumbling your name with his dry throat. He was in severe pain from his injuries, so the Grand Maester administered him a strong concoction of milk of the poppy to sooth his pain. It made his mind cloudy, and very sleepy.

That night, you allowed yourself to sleep in a bed.

⁂

For the duration of his recovery, you were moved to Aegon's old chambers.

They had not been occupied since the coronation. When you walked in, you noticed everything was the way it always was, the way Aegon liked.

It felt strange to be there without him.

As you sat on the bed in your nightgown, you were reminded of life before he was crowned. Times were simpler back then. The realm was at peace and Aegon didn't have to put himself in danger to prove he was worthy of the crown.

You missed that time.

⁂

While Aegon was bedstruck, you took seat on the Iron Throne to rule in his absence. He trusted you with his life, and would want no one else than you to wear his crown. His mother and grandsire ruled in his father's absence through his long illness and manipulated everything and everyone around them. Aegon didn't want that happening to him.

Although you didn’t know how to rule a war, you listened to the men sitting at the small council table, seeking their opinions and counsel. Now you understood why Aegon said they all bore him. Sitting there and listening to Lord Larys’s report of whispers, Lord Tyland’s financial complaints, and other reports that came by ravens made you want to indulge in wine.

‘’What is the next move, Your Grace? Our men have recovered from the battle at Rook’s Rest and are ready for the next move. More men have been trained and knighted, and are waiting for the next commands.’’

You glanced at the map to your left, studying the pins of the houses who had bent the knee to Aegon and the ones who had not, trying to come up with a strategy, but before you could answer, Aemond spoke.

‘’The Riverlands. Me and Cole will be heading north-west and amassing an army to march against Daemon Targaryen and Harrenhal.’’

You directed your eyes back to the table, looking straight forward at Aemond. ‘’Since when are you in charge of leading our armies, Prince Aemond? The last time you and Ser Criston plotted without my husband’s authority, it ended in a carnage of our army and put our King in a critical condition. I reject your strategy and forbid you from plotting without my authority by risk of being removed from this council.’’

After the small council meeting was over, you returned to Aegon’s side and were surprised to find him awake. He had been given him a gentle sponge bath by the maids while you were absent, his silver hair damp on his pillow. You also noticed that the maester had changed his bandages.

‘’Where is Sunfyre?’’ Aegon asked when you sat, speaking coherently for the first time in weeks.

‘’Near Rook’s Rest,’’ you replied. ‘’He was so badly maimed that he's not even able to be moved back to King's Landing. Ser Criston stationed men near to guard him while he is recovering. You need not to worry, my love.’’

You took his hand that was not strapped and resting against his chest in yours, trying to ease his worries. He hated being apart from Sunfyre, especially knowing his dragon was injured and in pain. Aegon vividly remembered his cries of pain when they were attacked by Meleys’ claws and teeth. He wished he could go to him.

‘’My memory is blurry, but he saved me. When we crashed down backward, Sunfyre was going to kill me with his weight, but he angled his body to avoid crushing me.’’

Aegon tried to shift into a more sitting position, but groaned as pain shot through his whole body. His burns were healing nicely under the bandages, but his broken hip and ribs were going to take a lot longer.

You reached on the night table and poured him a small cup of milk of the poppy. ‘’Here.’’

It would make him sleepy, but at least it’ll relieve his pain.

Until the effects kicked in, you informed him of what happened while he was unconscious.

‘’The crown must look great on you,’’ Aegon said, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile.

Any form of facial expression caused his tender, burned skin to sting, so he refrained from them most of the time.

You huffed, remembering the words of the men at the council when you sat in the King’s seat. ‘’Your council is not happy with me ruling in your stead. They claim that a war should not be led by a woman and that it makes the war look ridiculous as it began with not wanting a woman on the throne.

‘’Whoever dares question your seat and ability to rule should be removed from my council.’’ Aegon's face was dead serious. No ill tongues will be tolerated speaking about his wife. Not in his court, and certainly not from his council.

Unfortunately, you could not do that. What would the small council become without a Master of Coins or a Master of Law?

You continued with other news. ‘’The beast who is responsible for your fall got taken down by Aemond. His rider, Rhaenys Targaryen, perished with her. Now, the Blacks are down from another dragon. It’s a victory for us, but our army suffered severe losses due to dragonfire.’’

At the mention of dragonfire, flashes of the battle blurred Aegon’s mind. ‘’What has my brother told the council?’’

You recounted what Aemond said, and Aegon’s frown deepened as his memories became clearer.

His grip on your hand tightened. ‘’It is not what happened at Rook’s Rest. You must listen to me. It is not Rhaenys who aimed at me with dragonfire, it was Aemond.’’

⁂

Aegon’s words echoed in your head as you bathed that night. Had he confessed about his brother’s betrayal to someone else, they would say he was delirious and confused from the milk of the poppy, but you knew he was not. He was perfectly conscious, his memories from Rook’s Rest slowly coming back to him.

From what you knew, Aemond never showed signs of bad intentions toward his brother. As Aegon often said, Aemond was his blood and fiercely loyal. He trusted him. So why would Aemond turn on him during a battle and unleash dragonfire at Aegon? There must be a motive for him to intentionally harm his kin, his brother.

It was difficult to discern any emotions from Aemond. He was always composed and cold. Mayhaps his facade hid jealousy for his older brother? It was frequent among second sons. Although, Aegon never was the favorite son. It was always Aemond.

Until teh Conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Mayhaps he had a secret thirst for the throne? It would explain his military ambitions and his desire for a place at the council table. The best way to kill a King is to get close enough to stab him when he least expects it.

You sighed and leaned back in the tub, closing your eyes as your body was covered by the warm water. The memory of Aegon's pained expression as he recounted his brother's betrayal — a treason to the crown — haunted you.

‘’He is my blood,’’ Aegon had whispered, his voice trembling. ‘’Why would he do this?’’

⁂

In the early morning, you requested a private audience with Aemond.

‘’I wish to know what really happened at Rook’s Rest,’’ you said firmly. ‘’As your Queen.’’

Aemond stood in front of you, clad in his usual leathers and an emotionless face. ‘’I gave my full report to the small council when I returned from King’s Landing. Nothing else is to be said.’’

You pressed on, your voice unwavering. ‘’It was told to the smallfolk Aegon had slain Meleys, which is false as you have told us it was Vhagar who killed her. This discrepancy makes me question if there are more lies woven into your truth. You reported that Meleys had brutally attacked Sunfyre with her claws and teeth but you never mentioned dragonfire. Yet burns cover half of His Grace’s body.’’

If Aemond felt any hint of nervousness at your probing, he did not show it.

‘’Are you questioning my truth, Your Grace?’’ he asked, his tone cold.

You knew that saying ‘yes’ would turn your question into an accusation of treason. By suggesting that he had harmed the King, Aemond could easily twist the accusation back on you. And what proof did you have? Your husband, who lay crippled in bed, dulled by milk of the poppy for most of the day? His moments of lucidity would not be believed by anyone.

Perhaps you could ask Ser Criston or Ser Gwayne what they had witnessed. Or bring the matter to the dowager Queen; she might decipher her son's body language better than you could.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something familiar caught your eye.

‘’This is Aegon’s dagger,’’ you pointed, recognizing the handle sitting on Aemond’s hip.

‘’Indeed. He lost it during the battle at Rook’s Rest. I retrieved it from the forest,’’ Aemond replied.

‘’And why is it sitting on your hip, Prince Aemond? The Conqueror’s dagger has been given to him during the coronation, along with his crown. It should be in His Grace’s chambers, where it belongs.’’

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. ‘’I kept it safe, as any loyal brother would. Would you rather it had been lost forever?’’

You met his gaze, unflinching. ‘’Give it back to me.’’

Aemond stiffened at your words, his jaw clenching. He placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger, a defensive gesture that he couldn’t help but do. ‘’And if I refuse?’’

Your heart beat faster at Aemond's defiance, but you refused to back down. Taking a step forward, you locked eyes with him, your gaze steely ‘’Do not defy your queen. This is not a request, it's a command. The dagger belongs to Aegon. Give it to me, now!’’

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his fingers still gripping tightly to the dagger’s hilt. But your stern demeanor and unwavering command made it clear that there was no alternative.

With reluctance, he pulled the dagger from his hip and held it out to you, handle first.

You took the dagger from Aemond, your fingers grazing against his as you did so. ‘’I suggest you kiss goodbye to that dream of yours, my Prince. I know what you are. And when Aegon is strong enough to speak his truth, you will pay for what you did.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen imagine #hotd

1K notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 21 days ago

Text

girl, so confusing | f1

an: this is SADLY the last part :( don’t worry, i do plan on writing more fics for the f1 dilf!! here’s your long awaited reveal on the baby daddy lol made this one extra long for y’all <3 enjoy!!

part 1 part 2

faceclaim gisele bündchen

liked by ynstyle, goss1pformulas and others

f1gossiproom could mark webber be the father? recently former red bull and williams drivers, mark and y/n have been spending time together. the pair were spotted having dinner several times and a source confirmed that webber attended y/n’s daughter’s recital! they were once again spotted out in australia spending time in bondi beach with y/n’s daughter (not pictured to protect her privacy) they were soon joined by friends and webber’s family. a source, who wishes to remain anonymous, saw them and said y/n’s daughter, gemma, and mark were bonding as if they were dad and daughter 👀 he even calls her ‘gem’ and ‘gemmy’! what do you think? is mark webber the real father? we certainly think so!

formulaho3 how about just leave them alone?

roscoesno1fan mark looks like a total dilf in that pic so yes

oscarspastry what if the real father is the friends we made along the way?

webberxvettel i need to know the truth before i die

hamiltonsmerecedes not f1 twitter trying to cancel y/n for getting with their faves 😭

lnwhores i stand by my cancelled wife

myhonestbitchface and when y/n reveals that sebastian is the bd then what 🤨 i feel it in my gut 👀 that german bitch is the bd

blackwidowswife bitch you’re just hungry

load more comments

THE PADDOCK SESSIONS has posted a new YouTube video!

Italics = voiceover by y/n

“Hello!” Y/n’s daughter, Gemma, opened the door to Dan. She knew that he was going to film an interview with her mother about her racing career. She watched as Dan’s camera man waved to her. She assumed they had already started filming.

“Gemma hates and loves when I’m away. She stays with her grandparents when I have to leave or if her dad is not busy then they’ll be together. I think she loves it because her dad lets her have ice cream before bed. I’m more of a strict parent between me and him.”

Photos of little Gemma appear on screen. The young girl was picture with her mother on her first birthday, then with Mark and family members then Sebastian and Jenson.

Dan entered Y/n’s London home with Gemma by his side. He spotted Y/n making tea. “Got here just in time.” He laughed as he joined the former driver in the kitchen.

“I hope the flight here wasn’t too bad.” Y/n passed a mug over to Dan.

“Slept my way through it,” before Dan could take a sip from his tea, he noticed the mug that he was given. It had ‘best dad ever’ sloppily written in paint. “Cute.” He held the mug up and smiled.

“Yeah, Gemma made it for her dad last year for Father’s Day.” Y/n smiled proudly at her daughter’s creation.

That’s when Gemma joined the conversation. “But I couldn’t give it to him on actual Father’s Day! He was away racing and couldn’t be here so I had to give it to him later.” She explained.

After the pair finished their tea, they walked together to Y/n’s small garden. There she had a little seating area where the rest of the interview would take place.

“Lovely garden.” Dan commented.

“Thank you, although I won’t take all the credit. Sebastian comes to help, Gemma kind of bosses him around telling him where each flower looks best.” Y/n laughed, setting her mug on the glass table.

“Dad loves the flowers I picked out for the garden.” Gemma pointed out as she joined them outside. As Dan started the interview, Gemma kept playing outside with her toys.

More images of a young Y/n flashed on screen. She was driving for Williams at the time, they were her first ever team.

“Williams was my first home. They were nice to me, but they put so much pressure on me to perform, like every race had to be perfect. And when it wasn’t, you could feel the disappointment, like a weight hanging in the air. I’d go back to my hotel room at night, and it was just me and the silence.”

The video showed a clip of young Y/n in the Williams garage getting ready for her debut race. She noticed the camera then smiled and waved. The video then cuts to from a happy, full of life Y/n to a gloomy, quiet Y/n sitting alone in her garage.

“I didn’t have friends in the paddock back then. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and the people around me—the trainers, the engineers—they all kept their distance. One of my trainers actually told me, ‘I’m not here to be your friend; I’m here to work.’ And that’s when I realized I was completely on my own."

Y/n then looked over her shoulder and saw Gemma using a teddy bear that her father had bought the girl for her birthday last year in Germany. The former driver smiled at the memory of her little family spending a special day together.

Back to the interview, Y/n then talked to Dan about her divorce. It was a dark time for her. She had been young when she said ‘I Do’ to a man she thought was the love of her life. At the time of her marriage, her husband was six years older. She was nineteen at the time, about to turn twenty.

Several headlines from the day her marriage was announced appeared on screen.

“Barely an Adult, Already a Wife: Y/N Marries Six Years Her Senior”

“Y/N’s Whirlwind Marriage: Chasing Love, Not Podiums?”

“Teenage Racer’s Rush to the Altar: Desperate for Love or Just Immature?”

“Is Y/N Looking for Validation in All the Wrong Places?”

“‘She’ll Marry Anyone’: Critics Slam Y/N’s Hasty Decision at Just 19”

"They painted me as some kind of desperate girl who couldn’t handle being alone. The truth was, I was 19, scared, and in love—or at least I thought I was. But that didn’t matter to them. They just wanted to sell papers."

Dan then spoke. “What led to the divorce?”

Y/n sighed deeply. Only a few people knew the real reason. “It’s . . . a complicated thing to talk about. I mean, when you’re nineteen and in love, or what you think is love, you don’t always see the red flags. At the time, I thought I’d found someone who believed in me, who would support me no matter what. But as time went on, I realized that wasn’t the case."

A picture of Y/n getting ready by herself on her wedding day appears on screen. Her family were not present as her husband at the time wanted it to be only them. She smiled brightly at the camera as her photo was taken. The image fades then clips of Y/n racing in the early 2000s play.

“He wanted a family. Kids, a house, the whole thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but he wanted it then, right when my career was just beginning. He gave me an ultimatum—racing or him."

Dan lightly gasped at her words. “Oh . . .”

“I chose racing. How could I not? It was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d dreamed of. But he didn’t take it well. He made me feel like I was selfish, like I was throwing away a chance at a ‘real’ life."

Several more images of Y/n and her then husband flash on screen. There’s no photos of him attending races, mostly because he thought racing was dumb and didn’t like loud crowds.

“He didn’t trust me. Whenever I was away at races, he’d insist I call him every single day, sometimes multiple times. If I missed a call because I was in a meeting or debrief, he’d accuse me of . . . things. Things that weren’t true. I couldn’t even have a normal conversation with my trainer or my team principal without worrying about how he’d react."

"There were times I wanted to visit my family, to go home and just breathe. But he’d make me feel so guilty for even thinking about it, like I was abandoning him. So I stopped trying."

The screen cuts back to Y/N on the sofa. Her hands are clasped tightly now, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of emotion.

“And then the divorce was final and for a moment I was happy until he went to the media spreading all sorts of lies.” Y/n added.

Several more magazine headlines appear on screen.

“The Truth About Y/N: Ex-Husband Reveals Why Their Marriage Failed”

“‘She Wanted the World to Love Her, Not Me’: Y/N’s Ex Speaks Out”

“‘All She Cared About Was Fame’: Y/N’s Ex-Husband Speaks Out About Their Divorce”

Then the screen cuts to clips of Y/n’s ex husband being interviewed about their marriage.

“I sacrificed so much to support her career, but she couldn’t give me the one thing I wanted: a family. She was too busy chasing the cameras and the glory.”

“It was rough. Instead of being asked about racing, I was asked about my failed marriage.” Y/n recalled all the times during interviews when her ex-husband’s name was mentioned. “I just wanted to go home a cry, but I had a job to do. But of course the attention I was getting got me fired.”

“How were you told you were no longe driving for Williams?” Dan asked.

“Would you believe it if I said it was a ten second phone call from Claire Williams?” Y/n laughed. “Claire and I were never enemies. A few days after I got her call, she had dinner in my house and explained to me that she didn’t want to be the one to call me, but she was pressured to. Apparently the Williams team thought it was best for her to tell me in a phone call because they thought it would be ‘easier’ if the news came from her, since she’s a woman. They thought it would hurt less coming from her. Can you believe that?"

Dan noticed how Y/n laughed at the mention of the famous ten second phone call.

“It was definitely ridiculous of them. But they didn’t understand how humiliating it was either way. But Claire . . . I could tell she hated it. She ended the call so quickly because she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want me to be dropped from the team."

A photo showed of Claire Williams talking to Y/n before a race. At the time, Y/n didn’t know it, but Claire was her only friend.

“I don’t blame her for how it happened. She was caught in the middle of a decision that wasn’t hers to make. And honestly, her coming to my house afterward to explain—that meant something. It didn’t fix anything, but it showed she cared." Y/n finished drinking her tea then resumed speaking. “That ten-second call changed everything for me. But at least I know it wasn’t Claire’s choice. It was just . . . Williams being Williams."

“After everything that happened with Williams, you had every reason to step away from the sport. But instead, you joined McLaren. Looking back now, would you say that was the decision that changed everything for the better?" Dan questioned. He watched as her face softened. She truly adored her time with mclaren.

Y/n nodded. “Joining McLaren felt like a fresh start, like a second chance to prove what I was capable of. At Williams, I was just surviving. But at McLaren, I got to thrive."

Clips of Y/n during her time with the mclaren team played. Her smile was genuine and she looked happier than ever.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep racing. I didn’t know if I could trust another team. But McLaren . . . they believed in me in a way no one else had."

"It wasn’t just about the racing, though. McLaren gave me a second chance, not just at my career, but at myself. It reminded me why I fell in love with this sport in the first place."

“And then came those three idiots.” Y/n laughed when she remembered becoming friends with Mark, Jenson and Sebastian. Her cheeks tinting slightly, but her smile stays steady.

“But with that friendship came negative comments. I remember reading articles calling you horrible names just for having friendships with them.” Dan commented.

“Those negative comments still come my way even after many years,” Y/n added. “I stayed away from social media for that same reason until recently.”

“But with sharing your life on social media also came questions about your daughters life as well.”

Y/n knew it was something that was going to come up in the interview. Dan didn’t want to ask, but Y/n wanted to share. Gemma’s father and her had discussed it before and they both agreed to the interview.

“Yeah, the whole ‘who’s the father?’ thing has taken over every social media app i have. I can’t avoid it, especially when people constantly message me about it.” Y/n spoke. “Jenson thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Jenson?” Dan questioned.

“Yeah, he sent me a meme about it comparing us to Mamma Mia. I sent it to Sebastian and he sent it to Mark.”

The remainder of the interview, Y/n talked about her family she shared with the man who endlessly supported through everything. Every time she talked about him, she smiled brightly. It was clear that she loved him and their daughter more than anything.

As the video came to an end, Gemma was seen running towards someone who was out of frame. “Dad’s home!” Gemma jumped into his arms and hugged him.

“I thought you were flying in next week.” Y/n stood up to hug him.

“I come here to surprise you and Gem and this is how I’m treated?” He placed a kiss on Y/n’s temple, still holding onto Gemma. “Sorry, I definitely interrupted you two, haven’t I?”

“It’s alright, Jenson. We were just wrapping things up.”

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, wagstyle and others

f1gossip after finally revealing the identity of her daughter’s father, y/n and her daughter gemma were seen together in a beach in california 👀 jenson button also lives in california so we’re thinking the button family is spending some time together.

vettelsbees GIRL SEB WAS SPOTTED AT LAX

hamiltonsmercedes AND MARK

nicorosbergisadiva WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

landonorris hey i know her

ferraridepressionclub ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEE

webbertears what do you know you gremlin

load more comments

“Can I have money for ice cream?” Gemma ran up to her parents, Mark and Sebastian. The former drivers were all enjoying the sunshine of California, an idea that came from Gemma. She had been the one to call Mark and Sebastian to join her and her parents. They agreed even if they cancelled their plans with friends. They would literally do anything for the young girl.

Without hesitation, all the men took out their wallets and took out money for the girl. Their actions caused both Gemma and Y/n to laugh.

“Okay, thank you.” She gladly took the money from each of them.

“I’ll go with you, Gemmy,” Mark said as he got up from his spot and took Gemma’s hand in his. Together they walked to the ice cream stand.

“Has Claire called you?” Sebastian wondered. Ever since the interview was posted, the Williams team had posted several posts of Y/n when she was driving for them. They were finally acknowledging her wins and podiums. And of course they received some criticism from fans.

“She messaged me letting me know she watched the interview. She’s happy I did it.” Y/n replied.

“We all are. You should’ve done the interview years ago.” Jenson said.

Y/n only nodded and turned her attention to Mark and Gemma. The girl had always been close to both the German and Australian drivers, how couldn’t she when they had been in her mothers life and now they were in hers.

“Gemma asked if she could go to a race, but she wants you all to be there.” Y/n spoke up. Gemma desperately wanted the three men to join her. Y/n knew they would all say yes immediately.

“Did she say which one?” Sebastian asked.

“She said she wants to go to each of your home races.” Y/n grinned as Jenson immediately said he was in. Sebastian laughed then nodded. Of course they would join Gemma, the girl had them all wrapped around her finger.

“And will you be attending too?” Jenson winked at her. “We could do a repeat of what happened after Australia.”

“Funny, I was about to suggest the same thing but it happened in Canada.” Sebastian teased.

“Well weren’t you a busy woman.” Jenson smirked. “And Mark?”

Y/n kept quiet, innocently sipping her lemonade. After setting her drink down, the former drivers waited for her answer. “If you must know . . . We were in Vegas.”

Jenson groaned. “I was thinking Monaco.”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 driver!reader #sv5 x reader #mw2 x reader #jb22 x reader

529 notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 3 months ago

Text

saw this and immediately got on my knees and barked came up with a short little drabble so enjoy :)

warnings/tags: one use of 'wife', mention of brushing hair from face

---

A gunshot rang out as you sighed from inside the house. You walked out with two cups of tea, one for you, one for Logan.

“I hope there isn’t gonna be blood in the yard again, Lo,” you say, glancing at the man in the red suit sprawled on the ground. You balance the tea cups in your hands, already feeling like today was going to be one of those days.

Logan, leaning back against the chair with a scowl under his hat, grunts. “Ain’t my fault the bastard doesn’t know when to shut up.”

“Or when to duck, apparently,” you add, stepping closer to Logan to offer him his tea. Wade groans from the ground, stirring a little, but neither of you pay him much attention.

Logan takes the cup, his eyes never leaving the intruder. “Who the hell even is this guy?”

“Hey, I’m this guy,” Wade manages, lifting a finger. “I have a name, you know—Deadpool. But you can call me Wade, Wolverine.”

Logan’s eyebrow arches. “Never heard of you.”

Wade groans again, dragging himself to a sitting position. “Multiverse shenanigans, don't worry about it. I’m just here for a sec. Gotta find a version of you that sticks.”

You exchange a glance with Logan, sipping your tea. “You inviting weirdos again, hon?”

Logan shakes his head, jaw tightening. “Not even once.”

“Oh, that hurts, really.” Wade winces as he gets to his feet, brushing off the dirt. “Anyway, gotta say, this place is nice. You two are like the mutant Notebook or something. Old Man Logan, living the simple life with—" he looks over at you and whistles—"a very badass wife.”

Logan growls low in his throat. “You about done?”

“Yeah, yeah, relax. Just—ah, there it is.” Wade’s eyes flick toward a shimmering, orange doorway materializing beside him. “Time to go. Don’t mind me, I'll just... walk through this mysterious door before you shoot me again. Or, you know, worse.”

Wade gives you both a salute before disappearing through the TVA portal without another word.

Logan watches the door close with a gruff snort. “Hope that’s the last of him.”

You chuckle, “hopefully.”

Logan catches you by the waist, his strong hands effortlessly pulling you over until you practically land on his lap. You let out a small laugh, setting your tea aside before it spills.

"Was that really necessary?" you tease, one hand resting on his chest as you settle into the warmth of his embrace. He just shrugs, his scowl softening into something resembling contentment as he looks at you.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he mutters, voice gruff but low, the edge of his usual grumpiness fading away.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his cheek, earning a soft grunt of acknowledgment. “You’re getting sentimental on me, old man.”

“Who you callin’ old?” Logan growls playfully, his fingers tightening just a bit around your waist. His thumb brushes against your side, the touch grounding and familiar.

You tilt your head, studying the man beneath you. His face is lined with years of battle, the roughness of life etched into every wrinkle, every scar. But there’s a softness in his eyes when he looks at you—a quiet, unspoken tenderness that never fails to pull you in.

“You,” you answer, your smile growing. “But I don’t mind.”

He grunts again, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze. His hand moves up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he mutters, though there’s no bite to his words.

You lean in, your forehead resting against his. “You love it.”

Logan chuckles—a rare sound, low and rough like gravel—and his grip tightens around you, pulling you even closer. “Damn right I do.”

“But could you at least take the shotgun off your lap? It’s uncomfortable.”

Logan glances down at the blanket covering his legs, where the outline of the shotgun rests underneath. With a grunt, he shifts it to the side, setting it against the porch railing. "Better?"

"Much," you say, settling back into his lap with a satisfied smile. "Didn't want to have to compete with a shotgun for your attention."

Logan smirks, his hand resting on your hip, the weight of his touch warm and familiar. "Ain't much competition, darlin'."

You hum in response, leaning your head against his shoulder as you both sit in the quiet, only the occasional rustle of the trees around the cabin breaking the stillness. The simplicity of it all—the two of you, alone in this small moment—felt like a rare slice of peace in the chaotic life you both knew too well.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #old man logan x reader #old man logan #deadpool and wolverine

830 notes · View notes

dorabellingham · 1 month ago

Text

Fever and moody

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when he wakes up sick and starts making a big fuss about you taking care of him

request: yess!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a cold morning in Madrid, and the sun had barely risen when you woke up to a mumble coming from beside you in bed. You glanced at the clock on the bedside table and sighed when you saw that it was still six in the morning.

—Jude?

You mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.

Your husband was huddled under the covers, his curls messy and his face visibly pale. He mumbled something unintelligible, squinting and turning his face into the pillow.

—Is everything okay?

You asked, sitting up and placing your hand on his forehead. He was hot, too hot.

—I’m not okay… —Jude mumbled, his voice hoarse and sly. —I think I’m dying.

You rolled your eyes, although a smile appeared on your face. He clearly had a fever, but the dramatization was typical of Jude.

—You just have a fever, that’s all.

You said softly, sliding out of bed and grabbing the thermometer from the bathroom drawer.

He watched you with half-lidded eyes, looking even more miserable than he should have.

—Babe…

He called softly.

—Yes?

You replied, walking back into the room and placing the thermometer under his armpit.

—I’m dying.

You let out a small laugh.

—You’re not dying, Jude. It’s just the flu.

He let out a long groan as the thermometer beeped. You pulled the device out and looked at the numbers: 38.5°C. Nothing alarming, but enough to explain how haggard he looked.

—A low-grade fever, nothing that rest and hot tea can’t fix.

—But I never get sick…

He pouted, looking like a spoiled child.

You sighed, stroking his hair.

—Okay, darling. I’ll take care of you.

—Promise?

He looked at you with his big, pleading brown eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.

—I promise. Now just lie down here while I make you some tea and get something to help you get your fever down, okay?

Jude nodded slowly, sinking deeper into the covers as you went to the kitchen. A few minutes later, you came back with a makeshift tray: a cup of steaming tea, a bowl of chocolate chip cookies he was addicted to, and some medicine.

—Take this first, it'll help with the fever, love.

You handed him a pill and a glass of water.

Jude sat up with effort, grumbling as if he had just climbed a mountain. He took the medicine and grimaced, but accepted the tea right away.

—Is this better?

You asked, pulling the covers over him again and sitting on the edge of the bed.

—No. —He looked at you with puppy eyes. —Aren't you going to stay with me?

—Jude...

You began, but his gaze was irresistible.

—Sweetie... please.

Sighing, you lay down next to him, pulling the covers up to cover the both of you. Jude immediately snuggled into you, hiding his face in your neck.

—You’re the best wife in the world!

He murmured, his voice muffled.

—Of course I am. Now try to rest, okay?

—Only if you stay here with me.

You smiled and began to run your fingers through his curls, something that always soothed him. It didn’t take long for him to start to relax, his large, muscular body looking small and vulnerable as he drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, Jude woke up feeling a little better, though still moody. You were next to him, your cell phone in your hand and the glasses you used to read resting on your nose.

—You didn’t leave here?

He asked, his voice still hoarse.

—I promised, remember? —You smiled. —Now, do you want to try to eat something?

He nodded, and you brought him some soup. He kept making a face and smirking with each spoonful, but deep down, Jude knew that there was no better care than yours.

—Thank you for taking care of me, babe.

He said softly, when he finished eating.

—It's the least I can do, considering that you do the same for me.

You replied, kissing his still warm forehead.

—I don't deserve you, Y/n.

—Not at all.

You joked, laughing.

Despite the flu, Jude managed to smile, feeling better not only because of the medicine, but because of the love and care that came from you.

275 notes · View notes

vrystalius · 5 months ago

Note

I was watching Sanemi's training episode and thought about this ask."Sanemi was training the hunters,his wife called him and all the hunters to have lunch with the delicious food she made,but when the hunters saw Sanemi's wife they were enchanted by her beauty and kindness,how would Sanemi react to seeing the hunters enchanted by his wife's beauty?" (Sorry for my bad english)

❕Sanemi’s reaction to his trainees being enchanted by you

You were kind enough to prepare meals for Sanemi’s students after a long and gruelling training session. They absolutely adore you! How will your husband react?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting. Your english is very good, don’t worry! I have another request in my inbox I’m planning to write and publish today. Sorry for not being very active today.

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

— Sanemi has been letting his assigned slayers suffer. He beat their ass with the wooden training katana until it broke, or until the slayer passed out. If the wooden katana broke before the trainee did, Sanemi made sure to continue with his fists. Is this even proper training anymore? Striking or even coming close to this maniac seemed impossible!!

— You knew that your husband is not holding back with his assigned slayers, and so you prepared beforehand: You had a fully stocked pantry and medical closet. You made sure to grab extra medicine and bandages from the butterfly mansion even before the first slayers arrived, wanted to make sure everyone is surviving Sanemi’s training.

— While Sanemi was taking on his trainees, you were cooking some veggie miso soup with a side of steamed dumplings. While that was brewing, you were making a small batch of ohagi just for Sanemi. It’s also very tiring for him, and you’re sure he’d want something sweet to eat during his break.

— Shortly after pouring the soup into the bowls and arranging the dumplings on side dishes, the first starved and badly bruised slayers arrived. Well, they more likely crawled towards the scent of food.

— While they wolfed down their bowls of veggie miso soup, you carefully tended to their wounds while they were distracted. You dabbed on an ointment and wrapped some bandages around their torso’s, arms and legs, speaking encouraging words to them. After the slayers ate and managed to rest up for a while, they actually realised from who they got all this caring attention from.

“Mrs.Sh-Shinazugawa! You’re an angel! Our saviour!”

“Can I have another bowl of soup? Pleeeaase?”

“My shoulder hurts, can you massage me a little? Pretty please, Mrs.Shinazugawa!!”

— But one question lingered on their minds collectively: How the hell did Sanemi find such an angel of a woman like you?! And how the hell did you agree to marry him? Were you forced? Paid? Beaten into submission?!

— Regardless, more and more of Sanemi’s poor trainees showed up crawling, sobbing or being carried/dragged across the dirt by their mates. They desperately needed nourishment and tending to their wounds, or there will be fatalities. You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh or cry at the sight.

— Sanemi noticed how more and more of his slayers disappeared. Are they seriously hiding from him? Idiots. He started stomping through the training ground, following the smell of green tea and miso soup. That’s where he found you and almost all of his slayers.

— You tended to almost every single slayer personally, patching them up and giving them encouraging words. Some of his trainees even started following you around, trying to help you out and leave a good impression. Maybe you’ll give them extra portions of food or kind praises? Your voice sounded like a healing melody in comparison to Sanemi’s constant yelling and insults.

— But the peaceful atmosphere of you giving out some leftover miso soup and holding some light conversation with the trainees here and there was interrupted by Sanemi’s yelling.

“You’re all useless!! Ya think hiding behind my wife is allowing you to skip training, hah?! Back to the training grounds, shitheads!!”

— Yes, Sanemi is incredibly angry about his slayers hiding from him, especially crawling to you for safety and respite. But he’s more angry about the fact how they were all trying to get your attention and affections. Sanemi doesn’t mind when you interact with other people, or even men. He gets slightly jealous when men get too comfortable and start flirting with you,but Sanemi trusts you. He will interfere if things get too much though, just like now.

— Sanemi is feeling very jealous right now. He saw how you tended to the slayers. Your fingers were wrapping bandages around their wounds and bruises, and you were being so incredibly gentle and soft. You were blushing at their compliments and thanked them gracefully when they help you out.

— Your gentle touches should only be reserved for *him when you patch him up after a long night. Your hands should only touch *his skin with such carefulness and gentleness, and only Sanemi is supposed to make you blush with his* praises. Not these… good-for-nothing slayers.

— You are not oblivious, and you realised why Sanemi was really shooing them away. That’s exactly why you prepared the small batch of ohagi, just to show him that in the end, he’s the only one that received special treatment and affection from you. Although Sanemi only stops grumbling and complaining to you about his assigned trainees’ behaviour once you give him at least one kiss and some reassurance. But he still gave out severe punishments afterwards.

“Their annoying asses are getting on my damn nerves. I’m gonna have a fucking headache in the evening… soo… cuddles? Later?”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.

Anways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer hashira #fluff #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa

529 notes · View notes

margeoww · 25 days ago

Note

Toto is sick in bed and his wife is at some gala. He need texting her throughout the night and being annoying because he’s clingy when he’s sick but he won’t admit it.

A Night with a Sick Toto (and His Clingy Texts)

back to my masterlist

pairing: sick!toto wolff x wife!reader

summary: Toto Wolff is stuck at home battling what he dramatically calls “the deadliest cold ever,” while his wife is attending an important gala

warnings: pure fluff, clingy and dramatic Toto Wolff when sick.

Saturday night should have been easy. You had spent the afternoon meticulously preparing for a prestigious gala, one you couldn’t miss because it was critical for networking. Toto had been supportive, at first.

—Don’t worry —he’d said, bundled up in the softest blanket he owned. —You go enjoy yourself. I’ll be fine. Im perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Yet the moment you walked out the door, his first text arrived.

Round 1: The Neediness Begins

Toto: Are you there yet?

You: Just arrived. Are you okay?

Toto: I’d be better if someone was here to make sure I don’t die.

You: Toto, it’s a cold, not the plague.

Toto: A very serious cold.

You: I left you everything you need: tea, soup, medicine, tissues, and Netflix. What else do you want?

Toto: I don’t know… maybe my wife?

You: Stop being dramatic. You told me to go.

Toto: Well, now I regret it. It’s so lonely here.

You: You’re literally under three blankets.

Toto: And still freezing.

You: You’re impossible.

Toto: You’re beautiful.

You sighed, already anticipating how the night was going to unfold.

Round 2: Mid-Gala Drama

You’d barely had a chance to enjoy a drink when your phone buzzed again.

Toto: What are you doing?

You: Networking. It’s a gala, Toto.

Toto: Networking with who?

You: People important for my job.

Toto: Anyone taller than me?

You: Toto…

Toto: I’m just asking.

You: What do you want?

Toto: I think I’m getting worse.

You: Did you take your medicine?

Toto: It tastes awful.

You: That’s why I left the orange juice.

Toto: It’s not the same if you’re not here to give it to me.

You: Toto, you’re a grown man.

Toto: A very sick grown man.

You: Do you want me to come home early?

Toto: No, no. Stay. I’ll suffer in silence.

You: You’re literally texting me right now.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to laugh. He was impossible, but he was your impossible.

Round 3: Dessert and Desperation

Just as dessert was served, Toto escalated his antics.

Toto: The soup you made tastes like cardboard.

You: It’s your favorite soup.

Toto: Not when I have to reheat it myself. It tastes… soulless.

You: It’s literally the same soup.

Toto: It needs your touch.

You: Are you sure you don’t want me to come home?

Toto: No, I don’t want to ruin your night.

You: You’re already ruining it.

Toto: But I miss you.

You: Toto…

Toto: I think I have a fever.

You: Did you check?

Toto: I don’t know where the thermometer is.

You: It’s in the medicine cabinet.

Toto: Why can’t you just come home and check for me?

By this point, you’d had enough. Politely excusing yourself from the event, you called a car and headed back home.

When you walked through the door, you found him exactly where you expected: sprawled out on the couch, buried under a fortress of blankets. He glanced up, his brown eyes a mixture of guilt and triumph.

— You’re back early. —he said innocently.

—You made sure of that. —you replied, dropping your bag and crossing your arms.

—I wasn’t that bad.

—You texted me 27 times.

Toto winced. —That’s not so many.

Rolling your eyes, you moved to sit beside him. He immediately latched onto you, resting his head on your shoulder like a needy puppy.

—See? This is what I needed. —he mumbled.

—Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. —you teased, brushing a hand through his hair.

—I’ll make it up to you when I’m better. —he promised, his voice already fading as the comfort of having you close finally allowed him to relax.

And as much as you wanted to be annoyed, you couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, being needed. Annoying texts and all. It wasn’t so bad.

#toto wolff x reader #totowolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x fem!reader #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff #mercedes amg f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #fanfic

258 notes · View notes

user500269 · 9 months ago

Note

you can ignore this request but can I ask you to Make a story of Francis mosses and like a housewife reader who has an ignorant husband so when the milkman comes visit she "pays" him very nicely

switch! francis mosses x fem! reader

summary: paying your neighbourly milkman a hefty tip

wc: 2.2k

content warning: nsfw, cheating, double infidelity, masturbation, slight nipple play, soft dom francis energy, slightly subby francis, kind of unrealistic p in v (i was too lazy to write foreplay), creampie, very fluffy

author's note: hii anon, thanks sm for the ask :)) i love this sm and i hope ur okay with some sub married francis teehee >:) this was soooo self-indulgent :O hope u guys enjoy this one !! not proof read, minors please dni!!

your marriage was bland to say the least.

your husband was a busy man, working to provide for you to max out his credit card, but never giving a second of the day. he always blamed his lack of time at home on his job, never taking accountability.

you felt bored. he promised you a life of luxury with no work, but it was boring staying at home all day. weekly visits from cleaners to clean up the apartment gave you absolutely nothing to do at home.

but the longer your husband stayed away, the more time you spent listening in on your neighbors to past the time.

the milkman and his wife were a noisy couple.

you could hear the headboard thunking against the wall, his grunts and her awfully loud moans. he must be so good to her, you thought, feeling your fingers slip down your pj shorts.

you felt yourself passing the time, humping pillows, playing with toys and fucking yourself with your fingers. you could read every book in your apartment, watch tv for god knows how long and still be bored.

but one particular night, you heard a knock on your door.

you perked up, almost skipping to the door in excitement. you haven't had a visitor in ages and it was about time someone kept you some company in this little cage of yours.

"milk delivery." your eyes widened when you fully opened the door, realizing who was in front of you.

the buttons of his uniform were struggling to close, his hands veiny from his grip on the milk box he held in his arms against his stomach. seeing him this late at night was making you think of not so holy thoughts.

"what're you doing here so late? it's almost 9," you peered up at him, unaware of how your breasts nearly spilt out of your lingerie. you were wearing a skimpy little nightgown, forgetful of how you were married and half naked in front of another married man.

he smiled, placing the milk box beside your doorstep. "you're my last stop since we're neighbours. did i disturb you?" he crossed his arms, his biceps bulging.

you felt your heart beating out of your chest, you could feel your fingertips vibrating. "no, not at all..." you bit your lip, feeling your thighs clench tightly.

"i needed some milk for my tea. would you like some as well?" you worked up the courage to ask, looking at him with an expectant look in your eyes. "if you're not tired," you clarified, lifting your hands.

he didn't look like he took much time to think it over, nodding at your suggestion. you didn't wait for a verbal response, ushering him inside, locking the door.

now, here he was, sitting at your kitchen table while you made tea. if only you could see what he could see. the entirety of your back was exposed, a v-cut just above your ass to cover the rest of your lower half.

"chamomile or green tea?" you called out softly, snapping him out of his daze. you looked back at his lack of silence, looking at how flustered he looked for dozing off.

"green tea," he murmured, averting your gaze. he was so comically large, making your kitchen chair look small. his hands were gathered on his lap, his back straight against the backrest, waiting for you to finish making his tea.

you sauntered over to his, leaning your hip against the kitchen table. "n-nice place," he stuttered when he got a closer look of you, trying to break the silence.

you didn't expect him to come in, but now that he was here, you didn't want to waste this perfect opportunity. "mhm...i decorated it myself," you leaned closer, giving him an innocent smile.

"y...you're very good at decorating," he swallowed. his hands were sweating, he felt them grip at his slacks anxiously.

"isn't it so sad that my husband didn't help me decorate at all?" you pouted, puffing out your lower lip. his eyes switched back and forth from your eyes to your lips.

francis mirrored your nod, gulping when he realized how close you were. you placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "you're very cute, francis," you chuckled as you pulled away.

you scurried away to turn off the stove, watching the water spill out of the kettle. when you reached your hand to grab the kettle, you felt a hand reach over yours to pull you back.

"careful, it's hot." he was pressed up against you, his painfully obvious bulge pressed against your ass. maybe it was because the only thing that was preventing your bare skin from touching his was his shirt, or how small you were compared to him, but he was literally shaking.

you spun around, hands now holding onto his sleeves. "help me onto the counter?" you looked up at him, slowly tugging him towards you.

francis was a loyal man. he was dedicated to his wife, to his work and to everything else. but however wrong he wanted to feel about lifting you onto the counter and smashing his lips onto yours, he just couldn't.

"so pretty," he mumbled against your lips, while your hands found themselves tangled in his brunette locks. "you're so pretty," he was almost whining, brows knit from the intensity of the kiss.

your other free hand cupped his cheek, dragging his even closer to deepen the kiss. his kisses felt even better than imagined. lips soft, tongue warm, sloppy.

you were scared that he would hear the way your heart thumping out of your chest. "f-francis," you'd pant, but he'd be too lost in the way your lips felt against yours to focus on anything else.

he'd pull away to just soak in the sight of you, admire the lips of the woman he just ruined. he'd look at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, watching the way you'd nuzzle against his hand when he wiped away his spit off your lip.

"are we stopping here?" you frowned with a huff, tugging on the loop of his belt. "or can i tip you, hm? for the delivery?" you pleaded, tilting you head to look cuter.

he fell for it, having no intentions of stopping. "yeah, yeah. tip me or whatever, just don't stopping kissing me," he pressed kisses up your neck trailing up to your cheek.

you wanted to chuckle at his neediness, but you were feeling the same. your arms wrapped around his neck, allowing him to effortlessly lift you into his arms.

while you two made out, he carried you to you and your husband's shared bedroom, laying you down. he toppled over you, knee nestled between your thighs and arms caging you in his hold.

"i wish you could see yourself right now," he pulled away, his hand trailing up to your chest. your nipples were poking through the thin fabric of your night gown, his fingers toying with the neglected nub.

you jolted, biting your lip to hide an embarrassing moan. "d-do i really look that pretty?" you hide a moan with a laugh, throwing your head to the side when he pinched your nipple lightly.

"you're gorgeous," he sighed, rolling his fingers under your gown to lift it off your body. you were more beautiful than he had even imagined, waiting so patiently for him to do something.

before he leaned down to kiss you again, you tugged at his shirt. "take this off? 's embarrassing being the only one naked," you blushed, his eyes widening.

for a married woman, you were surprisingly inexperienced. francis never heard you getting railed by your husband. he could only hear your pretty whimpers when you pleasured yourself with toys, but never finishing.

he could only chuckle, reminiscing your frustrated sighs when you couldn't get yourself to finish. he smirked knowing now he could take matters into his own hands.

"whatever you want, sweetheart," he effortlessly tugged at his bowtie, unbuttoning his shirt. he was so handsome. lean, but not entirely skinny. bulky, but not too much. he was perfect.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to press your lips against his. "you're so handsome, francis," you cooed. he felt his ears flush from your compliment, his knee riding higher up your thigh.

you moaned when you felt it reach your core, feeling yourself grind on it for more friction. "make me feel good, hm?" you flicked his loose hairs out of his face, making him bite his lip.

"want it inside, francie," your fingers trailed down to your pelvis, slightly opening your folds. his felt his dick throb, his eyes unmoving from your cunt.

almost immediately, he felt his dick throbbing against his suddenly too tight slacks. he grunted as he finally unzipped to let his cock free, his dick slapping against your tummy.

you gulped at the size, looking up at him in awe. "j-just the tip," he whined, his cock sliding against your stomach. a part of him still wanted to be somewhat loyal, but you so badly wanted him in you, your fingers wrapping around the head.

"you're so big," you gasped, your eyes were still widened. he could only rub himself against your fingertips, whimpering at the friction. "just the tip, hm?" you grabbed the head, dragging it down to your entrance.

when francis felt the warmth of your cunt against his cock, he was almost 100% sure his loyalty would be thrown out the window. "j-just the, hngh..."

he felt himself thrust into your wet, soppy cunt almost too quickly, completely devoid of reason. he was nestled so deeply into your core, allowing you to adjust to his massive length.

"i-i'm suhh...sorry, i said just the tip, but i...mnghh..." he could barely get a word out, too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking his cock in. "y-you feel so, so good. it's so good, so..."

he was chanting it like a prayer, babbling whatever came to find. "francis, can you move?" you bluntly asked, guiding his hands to your waist.

almost like a switch, he thrusted into you wildly. his cock was reaching parts that you weren't even sure were possible to reach, especially with your husband's tiny, flimsy cock.

"am i making you f-feel good?" he asked, his lips just barely ghosting over yours. you felt his breath brushing against your face, the neediness evident on his face.

you nod, pressing a kiss on his lips. you moaned against his lips, feeling so full of him. "p-please say it. please say i'm making you feel good, ngh," he pleaded, pressing kisses against your neck.

your eyes were nearly rolling back, the entire galaxy filling your line of sight. "you make me feel so good, francis," you squealed when he hit a specific spot in you.

satisfied with your answer, his pace sped up. he was entirely bottomed out in your cunt, his pelvis pressing against yours.

you felt yourself getting close when his thumb trailed down to your pelvis to roll it against your weeping clit.

the squelches from him fucking you were so vulgar, it made you remember the sounds you heard when he fucked his wife. and finally you were living in the dream you so desperately wanted to come true.

"'m so, so close. m-might cum," you groaned, throwing your head back against the mattress.

he shook his head, feeling his hips stutter. "no, no. wait for me please. wanna cum together, hm?" he panted, mouth filled with saliva. he had grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly.

you could feel the coolness of his wedding ring against your fingers, making yourself get closer. you, a married woman, were fucking married man. the dirtiness of it all excited you so much.

here he was, the man you've been masturbating to for weeks, begging you to cum at the same time. "t-together, right?" he begged, his high coming so, so soon.

his thrusts were getting sloppy and your cunt was getting tighter. you nodded, his lips crashing onto yours, kissing you until you came together.

his cum spilled so deeply into your cunt, filling you generously. "you're so beautiful," he sighed, wiping the sweat soaked strands of hair off your forehead.

he just stayed inside of you for a few minutes, admiring you.

he'd tend to you right after. taking a bath with you, drying your hair for you, cooking you a meal. he did all the things you wished your husband would do for you.

and when it was finally time for him to leave, you'd be in bed sleepily, arms wrapped around his torso, head leaned against his chest. "don't leave," you whined.

he didn't want his wife to question why he came home so late, so staying the night was out of the question. "i'll be back again, okay?" he smoothed out your hair, patting your head.

"i'll be back here tomorrow same time with another delivery, hm?" he smiled, hugging you tightly. you were so cute when you were clingy and nearly asleep.

"i'll tip you again," you yawned, feeling your eyelids get heavier with every blink.

he placed you onto the bed, tucking you in well. he looked at you once more, brushing your hair out of your face. "sweet dreams," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

you smiled as you drifted off to sleep, knowing he'd be there same time again tomorrow.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #tnmn #tnmn milkman #milkman #that #that's not my neighbour #that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #x reader #ncrescent asks

647 notes · View notes

hexlenx · 2 months ago

Text

I'D PICK HER OVER ME — james fleamont potter

note: I do not own any of the characters in harry Potter except for the plot in this small fic. This is purely made for entertainment purposes as well as cuz I am craving for some angst.

warnings!: mentions of death, angst

__________________

James was tired, he really was.

Being a single father was hard, plus being an auror for the ministry. His schedule from his work as well as being a father at the same time was harder than the war that had just ended four years ago.

James sighed in exhaustion as he covered his eyes with his arm while laying on his bed. He had just came back from a meeting in the ministry that ended two hours ago. The meeting ended very late and he hadn't had the time to rest until earlier before waking up in cold sweat.

James had nightmares. It was always the same.

Getting paralyzed by a spell, watching his wife get killed by a dark curse, his son almost dying but some miracle happened and the curse thrown at him was rebounded towards the killer, and repeat. All the same thing, every night.

So James did the only thing that helped him everytime it happened. Sitting up as he groaned, he began to stand up to walk towards downstairs and to the kitchen. Arriving at the location, he began to brew tea. Normally when he was still in his adolescence, he would drink firewhiskey to cope with the war, but now he settled for tea that he added a teaspoon of honey to cope with his loss.

It was what his wife always had whenever she was stressed, tea with a bit of honey. Something he never understood why that preference until now.

"Papa?" A timid voice of a young boy called out to James making him snap out of his daze.

"Yes, Harry?" James said to his son. Harry was a four year old boy, unruly brown hair like his father, circular black glasses on his face because of the poor eyesight he gained from his father. He was practically the carbon copy of James Potter but the only thing different is his son's eyes. It was his mother's, the only woman James had ever loved.

"Where's Mama?" Harry questioned. The air stilled but the small child was oblivious of it. It was a very sensitive topic but it is not a taboo. With sharp intake of breath, James knelt down to his son's height, putting his hand on his shoulder as he fixed his gaze on Harry's.

"Your mother." James started as he paused for a moment to think of a sentence to explain why his mother is gone. "Is in a far away land, at the moment."

"But why so far?"

"Because, Harry, she is trying to protect us from something and she needs to go away for a while." That's it, James. The father encouraged himself. He's still young, tell him when he is old enough. He continued these thoughts as he looked at his son's thoughtful expression.

"Will she come back?"

Silence. There was no answer to that question as James embraced his son in his arms, brows furrowed as tears were threatening to fall from its sockets. The truth was, his mother was not gonna come back but how could he tell that to his four year old son?

Finally having set his son to bed, James took one last glance to Harry before going downstairs to sit on the couch of the living room. The honey-tea has long gone cold as he sat in front of the fire that was slowly dwindling. James stared blankly at it as his thoughts were loud but at the same time quiet.

If only you were here.

"If I could pick on who would survive that day, I would've picked you." James muttered to himself out loud, quietly sniffling his tears that slowly fell on his cheeks to his hands.

"Because you would've known what to do.."

The crying of a baby echoed through the house in Godric's Hollow. The scene showed a master bedroom, two bumps could be seen under sheets of the bed. As the cry continued, one of the figures moved.

"Fuck.."

A deep male's voice cursed out as he sat up, not being able to fall asleep now because of the noise. Another voice moaned out from being awaken from the movement of the man.

"I'll take care of him, love. Just continue sleeping." The man coaxed to his wife beside him who blinked at him to ask if he's sure.

"You sure?"

"Yea, you sleep and I'll tend, yea?" With that, the woman went back to her dreams as the man carefully unravels himself from the sheets before walking out the bedroom to the nursery.

"Shh, it's okay, Harry. I got you, bud." He said the moment he took Harry from the crib and coaxed him in his arms. The man was James Potter, the leader of the band of misfits, Marauders is now a father. The one thing he never knew he would be with the war going on.

Harry, the baby, now stopped his fussing and opened his eyes that he got from his mother to stare at his father. Smiling widely, he giggled and tried to reach for James' hair.

"Hey now, not the hair you little twit."

"Do not curse at our child, James Fleamont Potter." A stern melodic voice spoke out from behind the father who flinched as James chuckled sheepishly.

"I'm not...." James trailed off as he looked everywhere but his wife, who rolled her eyes.

"I swear, I can't leave you alone for one second with Harry." You scolded your husband with a slight slap on his arm making him grin at you.

"You love me!" James teased to which you rolled your eyes again.

"Unfortunately." You said while grabbing Harry out of his hands and propping him up on your hip.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

James leaned against the door frame of the kitchen as he wore a pink apron with a giant cute teddy bear printed on its front, courtesy of Sirius saying it was to look husband material and James agreeing to it because he was told it was husband material, he was listening to you humming a small song to Harry as you kept him occupied by holding up a toy on your son's face.

James was cooking up lunch because he wanted you to rest and let him handle household chores while you occupy your son. It was the least he could do for you as the war lead both of you into hiding your son from the Dark Lord because of a prophecy. He knew you wanted to spend more time with Harry before the worse happens, so he did all the chores while you spend your time with your child, even after so many of your refusals.

James smiled in content as well as fondness as he watched the both of you. How could he have such a wonderful family with how arrogant and stupid he was when he was a teen. He didn't think he deserved such thing after being such a prejudice prick towards Slytherins.

"Take Harry and run!" James yelled out to you as he tried to push the Dark Lord back even if it was just for a delay. He couldn't let him get to both of you, you're all that he had left.

Successfully stunning the Dark Lord, James then ran upstairs to be with you and Harry. It was the only thing he could do to help you run away before the Dark Lord catches up. Unfortunately, James underestimated the Dark Lord's recovery from a stunning hex. The moment James arrived at the doorframe of the nursery of where you were, he fell paralyzed by the spell the Dark Lord had thrown at him.

"No.." James mumbled as his eyes went wide in horror. He kept chanting the word like a mantra as he helplessly watched the scene in front of him. His mumbles becoming screams as he sobbed heavily. Sweat dripped from his forehead as his face turned red, eyes squinting, brows furrowing hard as tears kept flowing down like a waterfall from his reddening eyes.

No...not my family..

Not the one I just built..

Please don't do this to me..

A green light blinded the whole room as a loud thump echoed the room. Silence overlapped as the Dark Lord grinned viciously. James' brown eyes stilled as he watched the limped lifeless body of the woman he was proud to say was his, the love of his life, the mother of his son, his wife, you.

James was not spared from tragedy as he now watched his son getting cursed by the Dark Lord before he stared in disbelief as the curse rebounded and hit the one who casted it. Watching as a lightning bolt of a cut appeared on his son's forehead.

But the moment he was free from his trap, he screamed in agony, not from his wounds, but from the death of his love.

"Now, Harry. If I could choose on who would've lived between me and your mother." James said to his son who was now in his teen, sixteen, as they stood in front of a gravestone. A familiar name etched in the stone.

[ Your Name ] Potter

[ Birthdate ] — October 31st, 1981

"In loving memory of a great friend, sister, mother, and wife."

"I'd pick her over me."

"Why?"

"Because, she would've known what to do."

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #james potter x reader #harry potter #james potter #angst #light angst #james potter x you #james potter x y/n

225 notes · View notes

ms-snape · 2 months ago

Note

Imagine Snape cannot find his wand only to find his baby sucking on it like a pacifier

Title: Lost Wand

Warning: None

Words Counts: 1000+

A/N: I have a lot of exams these days so I don't really have a lot of time to write, sorry if this is horrible and really short but i'll catch up in like 2 weeks cause I have vacations in two weeks.

Masterlist

---

The first light of dawn crept into the windows of Spinner's End, casting long, pale beams across the dark wooden floors of the small, tucked-away cottage. The day began like any other, calm and quiet, save for the faint rustling of the leaves outside, the gentle hum of life that seemed to reside just beyond the threshold. Inside, however, something was different today. Severus Snape could feel it.

He stirred from his slumber, his black hair tousled and sticking out at odd angles. His eyes flickered open and met the empty space beside him, where his wife, Y/N, had been resting not long ago. She must have already risen, he thought, her quiet presence an unspoken comfort in his otherwise solitary existence.

Severus had never imagined himself here—tucked away in a little house, married to someone who had seen past his hard exterior and into the heart of the man he had long tried to hide from the world. Y/N, with her soft smile, her kind words, and her unshakable belief in him, had turned his life upside down. But now, that life had become something else entirely—something filled with joy, in the form of their baby daughter, Hope.

As he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his fingers brushed across his nightstand, where he normally placed his wand. But when he reached for it, his hand grasped nothing but air. A frown creased his brow.

"Where is it?" he muttered to himself.

His wand had to be around somewhere. It was always near him—on his person, tucked under a pillow, or within easy reach on a surface in the room. It had never just vanished before. He glanced over to the side of the bed where Y/N had laid, but there was no sign of the wand there either.

“Y/N?” he called out softly, his voice laced with the faintest hint of worry.

She didn’t respond immediately, but the soft sounds of footsteps from the kitchen told him she was already awake and making tea.

Sighing, Severus swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, scanning the room in earnest. He moved to the small desk near the window, where he often worked on various Potions-related tasks, his hand brushing across papers and books. Nothing. Not a hint of his wand.

“Y/N, have you seen my wand?” he called again, this time with a bit more urgency.

The response was immediate. Y/N’s soft voice drifted toward him from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen it. Did you misplace it again?”

“I’ve never misplaced it,” Severus muttered under his breath, though the words were more a reassurance to himself than a rebuke to her. He wasn’t the kind of person who lost things. His wand was his lifeline—his connection to magic. How could it just be... gone?

Y/N appeared in the doorway, her morning robe swishing as she walked. Her eyes, though tired, were warm with affection as she smiled at him. She had always been the calm to his storm, the one person who could steady him when the world felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

“I can’t find my wand,” Severus said simply, though his tone carried a weight that betrayed his annoyance. "I’ve looked everywhere."

Y/N's eyes softened with a touch of sympathy. She knew how much his wand meant to him, not just as an instrument of power, but as a symbol of control and order in his life. Without it, Severus felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hated.

“Are you sure you didn’t leave it in the living room?” she asked gently, though she could already see the frustration beginning to build behind his eyes.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “I’ve already looked there.”

Y/N smiled faintly, her lips curling into a small, knowing grin. “Well, you could try checking under the bed. Maybe it slipped under there.”

Severus shot her a brief, skeptical look. He had already checked under the bed. But he wasn’t about to argue. Instead, he muttered a quick “Excuse me,” before disappearing out of the room, leaving Y/N to continue with her tea.

The next hour was filled with frantic searching.

Severus moved through the house methodically, checking every possible place his wand could have ended up. He opened every drawer in his desk, shifted through piles of books and parchment, and even checked behind the cushions of the chairs in the living room. No sign of it. His steps grew heavier with frustration.

"Where is it?" he muttered again, a hint of panic beginning to creep into his voice.

The house, usually so quiet, now seemed oppressive, like it was playing tricks on him. He could feel the walls pressing in, the air growing thick. His heart beat faster. This was impossible.

He retraced his steps to the bedroom, hands shaking slightly as he opened the wardrobe doors, rifling through his clothes as if his wand could be hidden in the folds of his black robes. No wand there either.

“Severus?” Y/N called from the kitchen. He could hear the gentle clinking of a spoon against a cup, as though she was stirring her tea, but her voice held a note of concern that only made his anxiety grow.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, a little too harshly. “I’ll find it.”

Y/N didn’t reply, but Severus could feel her presence in the air, a calm force in the midst of his spiraling thoughts. He had to find it. It wasn’t just about the wand. It was the feeling of losing control, of something slipping out of his grasp.

His footsteps led him back to the living room. He searched behind the bookshelves, checked under every rug. He even checked the fireplace, thinking it might have rolled into the ashes by some bizarre accident. Nothing.

He turned in circles, his mind whirling. He was beginning to feel like a madman, unable to find a simple object in his own home. His mind started to conjure dark thoughts—what if someone had taken it? What if someone was watching him, toying with him in some twisted game?

His heart thudded in his chest. A sudden wave of frustration surged through him. His eyes darted to the corner of the room, where a cradle stood, softly rocking. It was Hope's cradle.

Hope.

Severus froze. A thought sparked in his mind, a moment of clarity cutting through the fog of panic.

"Of course," he muttered, turning sharply toward the cradle.

He approached slowly, as if the very act of moving toward it might disturb some fragile peace. Hope, their beautiful daughter, was nestled inside, her small hands clutching a tiny, unfamiliar object. Severus leaned forward, his breath catching when he saw what she was holding.

It was his wand.

The tip of it rested between her chubby fingers, the polished wood glinting in the dim light of the room. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Hope was sucking on the end of it, her lips curling around it like it was a pacifier.

Severus stared, his eyes wide in disbelief. He watched as Hope cooed, her little hands gently playing with the wand, her tiny body wriggling with delight. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, despite his earlier frustration.

"Well," he murmured softly to himself, "this is certainly a first."

217 notes · View notes

st4rgirllv · 24 days ago

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚

And you keep on falling, baby, figure it out Just drive slow, straightforward, or I'm walking around And your dad keeps calling, tell him, "Cut that shit out" Just keep steering, keep steering now

Synopsis: Late night drives with your bad influence boyfriend, Rintaro Suna

cw: fluff, angst cursing, not proofread, sh mentioned, abusive dad, 3rd year hs suna, mention of sex

"Hello?" Suna picked up his cell phone and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked for the time only to see how late it was. "It's 3 a.m., who's this?" He tried to check for a contact, but the screen was blinding him.

"Rin? D-do you think you could... uhm, pick me up?" you asked your boyfriend. He knew something was wrong because you were sniffling and whispering during the call. "Rin?" you panted, trying to calm down. "My- my dad's kind of.. uh, upset and I just don't wanna be here right now."

"Yeah, sure. I'll come by the back. be there in five, okay? Just lay low 'til I get there." Suna reassures you. Okay, well now he's fully awake.

The car drive was silent. Although he's your boyfriend and should ask stuff on why you wanted to be picked up, from the bruises on your face and arms, he thought maybe you'd want to talk at your own pace. It'd be fucking stupid if he asked if you were okay after seeing you like that.

So, he helped you sneak out and get into his car and drove around the neighborhood for at least 30 minutes while you looked out with your hands in between your knees before you spoke.

"Sorry, I had to call you up this late..." You did everything not to look the brunette. "My dad was acting up again and he just had a drink and I happened to be in his way when he threw a baseball so I got a bruise and everything..." you rambled.

"Fuck that," Suna cut you off, turning the corner. He sounded pissed for the right reasons.

"Sorry?" you asked, confused.

"I can't stand you defending your father again and again after he keeps hurting you like this," Suna parked on one of the sidewalks and looked at you. "Have you seen yourself? You're covered in bruises and all you're thinking about is justifying your asshole dad's action." He gestured at you, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not saying that what my dad did was fine! I was saying that it was an accident and that it wasn't his fault because he was drunk!" You explained, tears forming in your eyes.

"Who are you fucking kidding? Look at yourself, you look like you just left a gang fight." He opened the car mirror. "yn... I'm tired of answering your calls just because wanna escape your dad," you looked at each other in silence

"Look," Suna grabbed your arms, bruised with cuts and scars. "Every time you call me I always hope that it's because maybe you miss me or- or that you wanna have phone sex or something, I mean I'd be down to do that," He kept on talking, making you chuckle.

"But I seriously don't wanna hear you say you need me to pick you up while you're sobbing after your dad hit you because that would mean I'd have to see you hurt. That hurts me too."

You were so glad you never believed those dark rumors about Suna because he's quite the opposite. "I'm sorry," was all you could say.

"I told you, you should've just lived with us. My mom loves you so much, God knows why. She probably loves you more than me," your boyfriend cringed at the thought as he restarted the car. "I mean you are living in scholarship, you can totally live with us."

"Do you want anything? We're gonna pass by a 24/7 store here, I'm gonna buy you some bandages for your bruises, then we're gonna go to the beach so you can rest." Suna repeatedly looked at you to see how you were doing.

You couldn't help but smile. You didn't know how lucky you were that Suna was here. Maybe he's all you needed. "Hmm.. I want M&Ms with peanuts, snickers, iced tea, and did I mention M&Ms with peanuts?" you pretended to be curious.

"Yes, you have. What a way to spend my money but you know what they say, "happy wife, happy life."" The brunette shrugged.

"Really? I'm your wife now?" You asked, giggling.

"Yes, you've always been my wife, just not officially yet, you know." He reached for your hand, intertwining them together.

You wanted to stay like this forever.

Ring... Ring... Ring...

"It's my dad..." you looked at Suna as he parked near the 24/7 store.

"Look, just ignore it. If your dad keeps calling before I come back, just tell him to cut that shit out, you're not going back there." He left the car and walked over to the store.

You did what he said, your dad had called at least 5 times before Suna could come back. "Is he still calling?" your boyfriend settled in the car.

"Yeah, Rin, maybe I should just answer it. Maybe he's gonna apologize, you know-" you tried to argue back

Ring... Ring... Ring...

"Maybe he's just checking up- Hey!" Suna suddenly took your phone and left the car "Rin! RIntaro, come back here! Ugh!" how dare he put you in child lock?!

After 10 minutes of pouting, your boyfriend finally went back into the car. He seemed proud of himself until he saw your face after he gave back the phone. "Oh, c'mon don't pout. I just told him to fuck off."

"Rintaro, I swear I'm gonna hit you." You pointed a finger at him.

"Okay, I just told him being an alcoholic isn't an excuse for being a bad dad. I just protected you, is that so bad?" Suna's eyebrows furrowed.

"I guess not..." You looked to the side.

"See? Now let me treat your bruises," His lips met yours, moving at a slow pace. "Mmh... then maybe we can have a little car sex, that's kinda one of my dreams-" After he pulled away you hit him on the shoulder, with a smile on your face.

"Oh, my- stop that!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! Now let's hurry so we can head to the beach." Your boyfriend said, pulling out the medicine.

"Thank you, Rin. I don't deserve you, I swear."

"You deserve the world, you should know that."

ᯓ★ I liked this, it's not that bad. Anyway, thank you for reading<3 | Masterlist

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna fluff #suna angst #hq x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro haikyuu #haikyuu suna #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst

126 notes · View notes

msriri030 · 2 months ago

Text

König x Wife reader

A sudden boom echoed through the room as heavy rain pounded against the windows. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, casting deep shadows across the walls, while thunder roared, causing your two-year-old to cling tightly to your chest, trembling. Gently, you wrapped a warm blanket around her as you both sat on the living room couch. Smiling softly, you kissed the top of her head, then began to hum her favorite lullaby from *Lady and the Tramp*—“La La Lu”—hoping to soothe her. She looked up at you with tear-filled blue eyes, sniffling. You pressed your forehead to hers, kissing her nose and bringing a small giggle from her.

Another clap of thunder crashed outside, and she buried her face against your chest again. You stroked her soft blonde curls, whispering, “Don’t worry, my star. I’ll be here to protect you, Ellie.”

“Mutti… sniff… When is Vatti coming?” she whimpered. Ellie had always been a daddy’s girl. Lately, whenever König was away, she’d sneak into your bed, curling up on his side where she could still catch a faint trace of his scent. You knew she missed him as much as you did. König was supposed to return today, but with the storm… now you weren’t so sure. Holding your frightened child close, you did your best to comfort her, hoping the storm would soon pass and bring him home to you both.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” you said softly, “but he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

Suddenly, thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and the power went out. Ellie screamed and hid under the blanket. You sighed and lifted the blanket, finding her there, softly crying. You frowned and cooed, “Ellie, don’t cry. I’m here, sweetpea.”

“I want Vatti! VATTI! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Ellie sobbed into her hands, and your heart broke. You pulled her close, rocking gently back and forth to calm her.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you—”

“Liebling?! Kleine?!” König’s voice called out, and the front door burst open. Both you and Ellie looked over, startled. He must have heard her scream from outside. Quickly closing the door, König ran into the kitchen in a hurry, and you heard the sound of something clattering to the floor. Ellie giggled through her tears as König seemed to break something in his rush.

A moment later, he was in the living room, carrying a handgun, his eyes wide with concern. The lights flickered back on.When he locked eyes with the two of you, he sighed in relief and holstered his gun. Ellie wiggled free from your grasp and ran to him, jumping into his arms, whimpering, “Vatti, you’re home! I was so scared!”

König wrapped her in his arms, holding her close, his voice soft and reassuring. He took off his balaclava and kissed the top of her head. “I’m here now, kleine Maus. I won’t let anything scare you again.” Ellie buried her face into his shoulder, her little hands clutching his shirt as she calmed in his embrace.

After a couple of hours, as the storm softened to a gentle rain, König went to Ellie’s room to tuck her into bed. She was already drowsy, her eyes fluttering as she lay nestled in her blanket. König sat beside her, smoothing a hand over her soft blonde curls.

“Vatti, will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

König smiled and nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course, kleine Maus. I’ll be right here.��

With a warm smile, you headed to the kitchen to boil some water for cinnamon tea. After setting the kettle on to boil and cleaning up the remnants of a shattered dish, you prepared two mugs, one for each of you. The quiet sound of König’s voice behind you made you jump slightly.

“You are beautiful, Liebling,” he murmured.

You turned to see him leaning against the kitchen entrance, his gaze warm and soft. “And you are quite handsome yourself, König. Did Ellie fall asleep?”

“Yes, she’s resting now,” he replied, reaching out to gently pull you into a hug. His eyes met yours, filled with relief and gratitude. You felt a blush warm your cheeks as he leaned in and kissed you, his hands wandering softly along your body before giving your waist a playful squeeze. You gasped, playfully swatting at his hand as you turned to pour the boiling water into your mugs.

“What was that, my Kuschelbär?” you teased with a grin, handing him a steaming mug.

König chuckled, pulling you close again. “Just showing my appreciation, Liebling. It feels good to be home with my two favorite girls.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around König’s neck, your eyes meeting his deep blue gaze. You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you as you whispered lovingly, “I missed you, König.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, “I missed you more, mein Engel.”

At last, the three of you were together, safe and warm, even as the storm continued to rage outside. In this little haven you’d built together, nothing else mattered. The thunder softened in the background, but within these walls, there was only love and the quiet comfort of family.

#König cod #König x you #cod König #König x y/n #konigxafabeader #Königxreadre #König #xreader #cod x reader #cod oneshot #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig cod #könig call of duty #call of duty

171 notes · View notes

ahummingbirdwitch · 5 months ago

Note

Katakuri x reader (forced marriage just like Sanji's one)

Thank you for your patience on this one!!

Not So Bad After All (Katakuri x F!Reader)

Summary: You and Katakuri have been forced to marry, and it’s your wedding night.

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x F!Reader

Rating: General

Word Count: 1102

Warnings: none

Notes: Left this one a little short but I’m def open to writing more with Katakuri!

You’d never once thought your wedding night would be like this.

Alone in a couples suite in a strange, unfamiliar kingdom, married to a man you barely knew—the son of one of the Four Emperors.

Not just any of the Four Emperors, either. Charlotte Linlin—aka Big Mom—arguably the most ruthless of them. You should’ve known that she’d take an interest in your family at some point, given the success of your father’s confection company, because one day that dreaded letter had arrived, inviting you—not any of your brothers or sisters—to tea. And no one refused an invitation to tea from Big Mom.

It hadn’t taken long for you to learn what the Empress wanted from you—or rather, your family. She wanted a share of your father’s company—the profits and the confections—and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You and the rest of your family were far taller than the average human, and upon learning this, Big Mom couldn’t have been more delighted. For years she had been eager to marry off one of her oldest sons—a man sixteen feet in height—and you, being the oldest of your siblings, were chosen to be his bride, whether you liked it or not. For her, it was all too sweet a deal.

Now, as of tonight, you were married to Charlotte Katakuri.

You and your family had been promptly brought to Whole Cake Island, but in the four days you’d been here, you’d only seen the man himself twice; the first time, to be formally introduced, then the second time was meeting him at the altar. Despite being married to him, you knew dreadfully little about Katakuri. You knew of his impressive bounty and his equally impressive Devil Fruit, and you’d learned in your limited time with him that he was incredibly solitary, keeping to himself and always concealing his mouth with that scarf he wore. The two of you had barely spoken directly, but when he had, he had not been unkind to you, though he had not been necessarily warm, either. He was a mystery, one that few could try and help you unravel.

It had been fine enough avoiding him before the wedding, but now, he was your husband, and you would truly have to face the situation head-on. You were alone in the suite now, having left the reception early to “rest,” but Katakuri would return soon, and as his wife, you’d be expected to perform your marital duties. Despite the pleasant warmth of the room, you still found yourself shivering with trepidation.

It wasn’t that you were a virgin, and it wasn’t that Katakuri was unattractive. He was… quite the opposite, actually, even with half his face covered. It wasn’t the size difference, either; he was only a few feet taller than you, and you’d be largely compatible with each other. It was the fact that you didn’t know him, that none of this had been your choice, and there was no way out of it. Whether he was gentle with you or not didn’t matter; this was all wrong, all forced, and you didn’t know if you were strong enough to handle it.

A knock at the door broke you from your trance. A second later, a deep voice followed. “May I come in?”

Katakuri. Your heart began to race. “Yes, of course,” you called, as steadily as you could.

The door opened, and Katakuri stepped in, carrying a box. He was still wearing his wedding suit, though his tie had been loosened, and his shirt mostly unbuttoned. Given his usual attire, you figured he wasn’t a fan of shirts or form-fitting clothes. His scarf remained around his neck, and he made no move to unwrap it even as he took off his coat and hung it up on the nearby rack. Only when he had set down the box on a dresser, removed his tie and opened up his shirt the rest of the way did he speak to you again. “Are you well?” he asked.

You were quiet for a heartbeat, searching for the best answer. No, you weren’t; that was the truth. But you couldn’t just say that to him. “I am,” you replied. Though you wanted to shrink away, you forced yourself to sit up straight at the edge of the bed. You were wearing the white nightdress that had been left in the suite for you, presumably by Big Mom herself; it was not revealing, thankfully, but the material was light, and your skin prickled with gooseflesh in your uncomfortable state.

Katakuri regarded you for a moment, and you knew there had to be something on his mind, though his eyes did not betray his emotions. He took a seat just then in a chair not far from the bed, crossing one leg over another. “Since we’re alone now, I should be upfront with you,” he said calmly. “Even though it’s expected of the two of us, I have no desire to be intimate with you tonight.”

You stared at him, caught off-guard. “You—don’t?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I do not,” he answered simply. “I understand it’s customary, but I don’t feel that it’s right. And if I’m being honest, I’m not really in the mood for it anyway.”

You were speechless for several seconds, relief rushing through you. He didn’t want to. He was giving you an out. Had he sensed how scared you were? It didn’t matter; you didn’t have to do anything with him tonight, and that was good enough.

Katakuri observed you. “Hopefully this doesn’t disappoint you,” he said. “I know my mother set up this whole thing, but it wasn’t exactly my choice. I much prefer intimacy when I know someone very well, and I just don’t know you very well. Not yet, anyway.”

Those words touched you in a way you hadn’t expected at all. “No—no, I’m not disappointed,” you reassured him. You could feel your body already relaxing. “I… feel the same way, actually. About that sort of thing.”

He gave you a look that seemed almost curious. Did he like that, you wondered? “Would you like some donuts?” he asked all of a sudden. “I brought some from the party.”

Katakuri reached for the box he’d placed on the dresser, and you perked up when he opened it to reveal the round sugary treats inside. Your stomach growled; having been so anxious that day, you’d hardly eaten during the reception. Now that things didn’t feel so hectic anymore, you realized how hungry you were. “Yes please,” you said, taking one gratefully. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

#thanks for the request!#charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader #katakuri x you #one piece #big mom #ao3 #ao3 writer

204 notes · View notes

inkspiredwriting · 5 months ago

Text

Floating Sneezes

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I love writing about five and his little daughter

Warnings: None

The Hargreeves household was unusually quiet that morning. Five Hargreeves and his wife, Y/n, were enjoying a rare moment of calm with a cup of coffee in the kitchen when a loud sneeze echoed from the hallway.

“Achoo!”

Suddenly, the cereal box on the counter, a few spoons, and Five’s morning newspaper floated into the air, hovering in a gentle orbit around their daughter, Maddie. The four-year-old appeared in the doorway, rubbing her nose with a tissue, looking both miserable and slightly amused.

“Mommy, Daddy,” Maddie said with a sniffle, her voice congested. “I think I have the floaty sneezes again.”

Five, still half-asleep, blinked at the floating objects. “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

Y/n sighed, suppressing a laugh. “Seems like it. Maddie, sweetie, let’s get you back to bed.”

As the day progressed, Maddie’s sneezes became more frequent and more powerful. Each time she sneezed, various household items defied gravity and hovered around her like an entourage of floating furniture.

“Achoo!”

A picture frame, a couple of books, and a toy train joined the cereal box, circling Maddie as she sat on the couch with a blanket.

Five, trying to focus on his work in the living room, dodged a floating coffee mug that drifted too close for comfort. “Y/n, I think we need a better plan than ‘wait it out’!”

Y/n, carrying a tray of tissues and medicine, carefully navigated the hovering objects to reach Maddie. “How about we keep her in one room to minimize the chaos?”

“Too late,” Five muttered, ducking as a pillow floated past him.

Y/n decided to prepare lunch for Maddie, hoping some chicken soup might help. She carefully carried the bowl to Maddie’s room, where Five had set up a temporary containment zone. Maddie sat in the middle of her bed, surrounded by a few floating toys and her favorite blanket.

“Achoo!”

As soon as Maddie sneezed, the bowl of soup lifted out of Y/n’s hands, joining the parade of floating items. Y/n, trying to keep her balance, watched helplessly as the soup drifted away.

“Five! Help!” Y/n called, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Five entered the room, a look of determination on his face. “Alright, Maddie, hold your breath for a second. I’m going to get your lunch back.”

Maddie giggled, trying to stifle another sneeze. Five cautiously reached up, snatching the floating bowl of soup from mid-air. He placed it on the bedside table, where it wobbled but stayed put.

“Nice catch, Daddy,” Maddie said, her eyes sparkling despite her sniffles.

Five wiped his brow. “Thanks, kiddo. Let’s try to keep the rest of lunch on the ground, alright?”

By mid-afternoon, Maddie’s floating sneezes had turned the entire house into a zero-gravity playground. Five and Y/n took turns keeping an eye on her, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

“Achoo!”

A stack of papers, a hairbrush, and a remote control floated into the air. Five, who had been napping on the couch, woke up just in time to catch the remote before it drifted out of reach.

“This is getting out of hand,” he grumbled, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

Y/n entered the room, holding a cup of tea and wearing an amused smile. “I think it’s kind of cute. She’s like our little gravity-defying superhero.”

Five shook his head, chuckling. “Cute, yes. Practical, no.”

Maddie, bundled in her blanket, sneezed again, sending a couple of stray socks into the air. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make everything float.”

Five softened, his irritation melting away. He knelt beside Maddie’s bed, ruffling her hair gently. “It’s okay, Maddie. It’s not your fault. We’ll just have to get through it together.”

As evening approached, Y/n decided it was time for a new strategy. She made a special honey and lemon tea, hoping it would soothe Maddie’s throat and calm her sneezes.

“Here you go, sweetie,” Y/n said, handing the warm cup to Maddie. “This should help you feel better.”

Maddie took a tentative sip, her eyes lighting up. “It’s yummy, Mommy!”

Five joined them, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Feeling any better?”

Maddie nodded, snuggling deeper into her blanket. “I think so. My nose feels less tickly.”

“Achoo!”

The cup wobbled in Maddie’s hands but, to everyone’s relief, stayed grounded. Five and Y/n exchanged hopeful looks.

“Maybe we’ve found the antidote,” Five said with a grin. “Honey and lemon tea: the cure for floaty sneezes.”

Y/n laughed, leaning her head on Five’s shoulder. “Let’s hope so. Otherwise, we’ll need a bigger house.”

By bedtime, Maddie’s sneezes had finally calmed down, and the household items had mostly returned to their proper places. Five and Y/n tucked Maddie into bed, both looking forward to a good night’s sleep.

“Goodnight, Maddie,” Five said, kissing her forehead.

“Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight, Mommy,” Maddie replied, yawning. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” Y/n said softly, brushing Maddie’s hair back.

As they turned off the light and closed the door, Five let out a long sigh of relief. “I never thought sneezes could be so exhausting.”

Y/n laughed, slipping her arm around his waist. “Well, our little Maddie always finds a way to surprise us.”

Five smiled, pulling Y/n closer. “Let’s hope tomorrow is a bit more... grounded.”

As they walked down the hallway, their laughter echoed softly in the house, filled with love, a bit of chaos, and the certainty that no matter what, the Hargreeves family could handle anything—even a day of floating sneezes.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

171 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 1 year ago

Text

Snowed In

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: what happens when you're the last two in the office on Christmas Eve and the roads are closed due to an unexpected blizzard?

Warnings: divorced touch starved hotch, Agent reader, blizzards, alone at Quantico, cuddling, flirting, making out, face sitting, munch hotch, teasing, p in v smut, soft dom hotch, spit, biting, fluffy aftercare

word count: 5.3k

The weather forecast for Christmas Eve didn’t look nice… but you can’t really call out of work at the FBI for ugly weather when there are terrible people out there to catch. And, unlike everyone else who thought it would be smart to head home before the storm, she had paperwork to do.

So by the time her last file was closed, the roads were too.

The power was still on, and it would stay on thanks to the generator at Quantico and the best part was that the kitchen was newly stocked with snacks.

She wandered down to the floor 6 break room, which just so happened to be in the BAU bullpen. Everyone had gone home, the desks were empty and the only lights on were in the kitchen area. She took out a mug, flicked on the kettle and started to make herself some toast with one of the many Jams in the fridge. She’s so caught up in her snack that she doesn’t hear a door open, or someone walking down the steps towards her until he's taking a deep breath and scaring the daylights out of her.

“Oh god,” she jumps, hand on her chest as she turns to him. “Agent Hotchner…”

“Agent Y/L/N,” he smiles. “Sorry, I thought you knew I was still here.”

“I figured you went home to your wife—

“Ex-wife,” he sighs, showing his ringless hand. “She has our son this year, I thought I’d catch up on some work and then the snowstorm got… well, you see,” he points to the big glass windows covered in snow.

“It hasn’t snowed like this here in years,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe we're stuck here…”

“Well, it’s not like there’s nothing to do,” he teases. “We have a TV, lots of snacks, the power won’t go out on us so it’ll stay warm in here and Daves got a cot in his office if you need a place to sleep…”

“Oh, thank you,” she’s shocked he’s thinking about her like that. “I didn’t even think about that part.”

“you’re just hungry?” He teases. “What are you making?”

“Tea and toast… you want some?” She asks, hopeful he’ll say yes.

He nods, “I’d love some.”

They work around the kitchen like a team. She makes the toast, he makes their tea and they share exactly how they like theirs done… and there's a hope in her heart that maybe this is just the first time she makes him a breakfast meal. She’s always found him handsome, everyone in the bureau had, honestly. Not only is he good-looking, he’s strong and smart and kind until he can’t be anymore. And when he’s mean, even that’s a little sexy.

He invites her up to his office where she finds he’s been sitting on his couch, his laptop on his desk, watching old episodes of Fraser… “seriously?” She can’t believe it.

He blushes a bit, “it’s a good show. I have every season on DVD and this laptop has a disk drive, so…”

“Honestly, I’ve never really watched it,” she shrugs. “What season are you on?”

“The first one, I can start it from the beginning again?”

“No, it’s okay,” she waves it off. “I think I can catch up, you’ll just have to explain some things to me.”

And so he does, he gives a rundown of the first few episodes. Who Fraser is, his weird brother, his dad and their dad's helper— who his brother eventually falls in love with. It’s a good show. It’s funny, she gets to see Hotch smirk and sometimes, actually, giggle… it’s something she’s not used to.

In the handful of times she’s worked with the BAU on things, Agent Hotchner has never cracked a smile. Episode after episode, he gets happier and friendlier and she takes that as an invitation to move in closer and closer until their shoulders are touching. And then he lifts his arm to rest it on the back of the couch and she’s even closer to him. His tie is off, his first two buttons are undone… he’s comfortable and handsome as ever and it takes everything in her to watch the show and not stare at him.

“Do you want to watch another?” He asks in a hushed tone, just for her to hear— as if they weren’t completely alone here.

She nods, “I can do another.”

“Cool,” he smiles ever so softly and goes to get up so he can switch the disk to access another 4 episodes.

She watches him take out the old disk, put it back in the case and take out the new one. He places it in the tray, closes the disk drive and watches as it loads up to the title screen again. He hits play, and makes his way back to the couch with a sigh, placing his arm on the back again, just as close to her as last time.

“This is really nice,” she compliments. “Thanks for making this night fun for me.”

“I’m actually really glad someone else got snowed in here too,” he teases.

“I really thought I was alone in here,” she sighs. “I’m so happy I’m not…”

“Are you happy it’s me?”

She can’t help but smirk, “Yeah… alone time with Agent Hotchner wasn’t something I ever expected to get.”

“Would you want more?” He asks, staring at her lips. “I mean—

“Yes,” she cuts him off. “If I knew you were single I would’ve asked before…”

“It’s only been 6 months, we haven’t worked together since then,” he reminds her. “I haven’t— I haven’t even tried to spend time with someone else, yet.”

“But you think you’re ready?”

He shrugs, “I— I think you’re pretty and you’re nice and we’re here and we’re having a good time…”

“So are you asking me on a date hotchner, or do you want to bone in your office?”

He laughs, “Bone? Seriously?”

“Canoodle, bang, bump uglies, fuck,” she lets out all the slang and he laughs again, good and hard and it’s beautiful.

She cups his face and he pauses for a moment, “I think I’d like to start with just kissing you.”

“Okay,” she breathes out as she leans in to kiss him.

He’s so gentile. His lips are soft, and he’s tentative and reserved. He keeps his hands to himself and lets her set the pace. She never would’ve guessed that making tea and close proximity would lead to kissing the most handsome man she’d ever known in her entire life. When their tongues meet, he finally reaches out for her. Holding her side, he grips her just enough to make her crave more. She moves in closer, desperate to throw her leg over him and sit in his lap… but it’s him who initiates it.

He tugs her in, helps her settle in his lap and wraps both his hands around her to cradle her body against his. She sighs against him, making him smile into the kiss. She smiles too, coping his face she pulls back to look at him, “I didn’t expect Frasier to be the show that rials you up like this…”

“Well… tossed salads and scrambled eggs are both euphemisms,” he teases.

“How so?”

He lets out a deep breath through his nose like he doesn’t want to explain it. “The phrase ‘toss my salad’ is slag referring to rim jobs— or really any kind of oral pleasure, I guess…”

“Oh,” she wasn’t expecting that in the slightest. “And I guess scrambled eggs is how he likes his eggs done in the morning?”

He nods, “who knows, really? The theme song has never actually been explained but… how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“Why? It’s not like you can make me some in the morning,” she teases.

“Maybe, when the roads are better we can go get breakfast?” He offers.

“I thought the whole point of the saying was that you’re supposed to make them for me?” She stares him down, hoping to make him laugh… she gets a smirk and a shake of his head as he tries to hold it in.

“I will make you breakfast, at one of our places, the first chance I get,” he assures. “If… if that’s something you’d like?”

She nods, “Yes, Aaron, I would love to get to know you more, and spend time with you and see where this goes… I’m literally in your lap right now dying to see what we get up to.”

“Dying to?” He couldn’t believe those were her words. “Why?”

She runs her fingers through his hair and then traces down the side of his neck and watches her hands as they trail over his shirt to rest on his chest. “When you look in the mirror in the mornings, do you plan on being the sexiest agent in the building or is this all just a happy accident?”

He blushes, “I mean, I don’t really plan it— I just put something on and come to work.”

She just shakes her head and sucks her tongue, “Well I guess now I have to show you just how handsome you are every single day.”

“And how would you do that?” He asks, gripping her hips a little tighter.

She leans in and kisses him softly, “You’re so handsome.” She kisses his cheek, “And pretty…” She kisses his jaw, “And cute…” he starts to smile and blush uncontrollably.

As she goes lower with her kisses, she works on his third shirt button, exposing a bit more of his chest so she can drag her tongue over his collarbone— which makes him toss his head back and whine. “Oh god, you’re so sexy,” she praises. “I want to hear more of your pretty noises.”

“So we’re doing this?” He asks, looking nervous.

She smiles softly and looks him in the eyes. “Only if you want to, baby,” she whispers. “We can do whatever you’re most comfortable doing, I’m sure this is going to be weird venturing into a new experience for the first time in so long, but we can go as far as you want and stop the moment you don’t want to do it anymore, okay?”

He nods, “Thank you.”

“And if you want to stop we can go right back to cuddling and watching the show and we can still go on that breakfast date,” she assures him. “I’m going to want to do that no matter what happens, okay? I like you, not what I can get from you.”

“You’re so nice,” he swoons a bit. “Seriously, why are you so nice to me?”

“you’re a good man, I’ve enjoyed working with you… and looking at you,” she teases. “But in all seriousness, you deserve someone to be gentile with you, you’re only so stone-faced at work to protect yourself, I get that, but you deserve some softness too.”

“I had a feeling you’d be sweet to me,” he whispers, breaking his walls down for her. “I’ve wanted to do this… I’ve wanted to break out of my shell and be with someone new and forget about how much my wife—my ex-wife broke my heart, but I’ve been scared.”

“It’s a scary thing,” she sympathizes. “But if you want me to be the first one you're with, I’ll be so good to you. I’m going to take care of you and make it fun and easy and soft and-and even if you get emotional or it’s too much, I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“I want to do this,” he nods, staring at her lips. “I want it to be you who I start over with.”

“I want to be that for you,” she cups his cheek again and smiles. “Thank you for picking me, Aaron.”

“Um… I don’t have any condoms,” he warns. “There might be some in Dave's room… maybe Derek's desk?”

She laughs, “I have some in my purse upstairs, I can go get them?”

He nods, “Yeah, that would be good and then I can turn this sofa into a bed while you’re gone.”

“Okay,” she goes to get off him but then stops herself, she leans in and steals on last kiss and he smiles into it. “Sorry, I needed another.”

“You can have a million more when you get back,” he keeps smiling, overjoyed with his choice.

—

He has about 6 minutes of freakout time while she goes to get her purse. He turns the couch into a bed, having a sleeper sofa in here was a blessing for nights like these… and when his wife kicked him out. He untucks his shirt and then re-tucks it and pulls it out again, he thinks about unbuttoning it and laying on the couch or maybe waiting for her at the elevator doors— he��s so nervous he has no idea what to do with his hands or his body.

He wanders around the room and talks himself into meeting her at the bullpen doors just as she’s walking up the couple stairs to his office. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” she smiles so beautifully. “You know you can still back out?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to… I’m just nervous. I haven’t done this in a while.”

“How long?” She asks.

“Since the last time with my ex-wife or with someone new?”

“Either?” She’s simply curious.

“My ex-wife was my first and only… and I haven’t been with her in almost 8 months now.”

“You know you could have anyone in this office in a heartbeat if you wanted to,” she reminds him. “You’re the most handsome agent in the whole FBI— just don’t tell Morgan I said that.”

He laughs, “Thank you.”

“This is cute,” she motions over to his sleeper sofa. “You want to cuddle and make out a bit, again?” She asks while kicking off her shoes and she does the same thing, making it easier for when they shed all their clothes later.

He nods and pulls her in close, “Kissing you has been the best part of my day.”

“Well, let me make it even better,” she teases, leaning in and connecting their lips once more.

It’s just as heated as before, only now his hands are on her lower back and he’s so tempted to grab her ass… so he does, he hauls her up so she can wrap her legs around him and he knees on the end of the bed. He lays her down, still kissing her while he attempts to hover over her— but she wants more.

She grips his hips and pulls him down flush against her, so she can wrap her legs around him once more. And by wrapping herself completely around him, he suddenly feels at home. His nervousness dies off, his apprehension to experience something new and different and unlike himself diminishes to nothing and he’s able to enjoy this.

He wraps his right arm around her, trapped between her and the mattress, while his left-hand cradles her head. He kisses her with passion and care and she gives the same energy right back… if not more so as she moans into his mouth. He pulls back with a smile, “you like kissing me that much?” He teases with his newfound confidence.

“I mean yeah but do you not realize how hard you are against me? It feels amazing,” she explains, her legs wrapped around him still, she pushes him down against her core and has him grind against her once more. “You feel so good, baby.”

He was so in his head he didn’t even realize his other one was so active… he blushed a bit, “You like it?”

She nods, “If grinding with you all night is all I get, I’m going to leave a very happy camper.”

He leans in and kisses her cheek and then her jaw right up to her ear, “Oh, you’re getting more, believe me… so much more.”

She moans again and he takes that as enough incentive to keep kissing her there. He bites her earlobe gently and sucks on her neck just enough to stimulate her and yet not enough to leave a mark. Her hands search his back, feeling him up as he tenses from hovering over her and then releases when he drops his body weight against hers once more, and she sighs when he does that. She loves the feeling of him on top of her. It’s like he was meant to always be there.

He withdraws his hands from under her and grips her hips as he sits up, “can I unbutton your shirt?”

“You may,” she says, a look of excitement plastered over her face.

“I want to just rip it open but I know you don’t have another shirt to wear home tomorrow,” he teases. “and it’s just too pretty to ruin.”

“Hopefully you don’t feel the same way about me…”

“Oh no, that’s precisely why I need to ruin you,” he assures, making haste on her buttons, he leans back in and starts to kiss the newly exposed skin of her chest. Right between her boobs and down her tummy until her shirt is completely unbuttoned and all he has left to pop is the button on her pants.

Her tummy is so soft, that he gets inside her shirt and wraps his arm underneath her back to feel how warm she is and uses it as an excuse to undo her bra in the process. He pulls her forward and gets her out of her shirt and her bra and can’t help but stare down at her chest and then back up to her eyes, “mesmerizing.”

“My turn,” she whispers, “let's flip.”

He listens, laying on his back, she straddles his hips and leans down to kiss his neck while she undoes his shirt. Button by button, she gets him exposed just to press their naked chests together and kiss him right on the mouth once more. She hauls him forward so they’re both sitting up and she pushes the shirt off his shoulders so they can feel each other up.

He grips her hips and tugs her in, grinding her against his bulge once more. She breaks the kiss to kiss his jaw and down his neck, “mm, Aaron,” she pulls his attention from the kiss. “Lay back.”

“Okay,” he listens, leaning back and she reaches for his belt.

“Can I?”

He nods and so she starts to unbuckle him, she pops his button and pulls the zipper down so she can reach into his pants. She feels over his bulge, watching as he tosses his head back and bites his lip to hold back a moan. “Let it out baby,” she whispers. “A touch-starved man like you… come on, let me hear you.”

“It’s not the only thing I’m starved for,” he jokes, blushing again.

Her eyes widen as she pulls back, “oh yeah?”

He nods, he wants to go down on her so bad that his stomach flips with anticipation. “Please?”

She sits more on her knees and reaches for the button on her pants, “how do you want me?”

“Would you— if you want, I mean, you can pick but I’d like to—

“I can sit on your face,” she knows exactly what he was trying to ask.

In the same way, she liked feeling his weight on top of herself, he wanted to feel completely smothered by her pussy and thighs.

She pushes him back so he’s lying flat and climbs off the bed so she can take her pants and underwear off, shoes long gone, she’s in nothing but her socks as she climbs back onto the bed and straddles his chest.

He’s a little impatient, pulling her forward and wrapping his arms around her thighs, he gets her right where he wants her and kisses her right where her thigh meets her cunt. He eases into it, kissing her gently, whispering praise about how beautiful she is and how lucky he feels.

But then he looks up at her, “don’t be afraid to really sit, I can take it.”

“Tap me twice if you can’t,” she agrees and within seconds he’s going at her.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she leans forward to rest her arm against the wall behind the couch, grinding against his face, exactly the way he wanted it.

His tongue deep inside her, his nose nudging at her clit, he savours the way she tastes as if she hasn’t said she would be willing to do this again… and from her noises, he knows this experience just makes her want it again soon. He wants her to enjoy it, he’s always been more into making his partner enjoy it. This time it feels a bit more selfish, as the more she enjoys it the more she’d be willing to come back and the more he can do it. And he wants to eat her out for the rest of his life.

Her sounds are a price, her weight on top of him is magnificent and she’s absolutely delicious. And he hasn’t even gotten to the best part yet. Making her cum on his face is going to change his life.

When he inserts a finger, her legs start to tremble around him. She’s so close, he can tell. Sucking on her clit while he massages that wonderful spot inside of her with his middle finger, she moans so deeply it vibrates her whole being. She starts to chant his name, right on the edge of her orgasm, so he adds a second finger and the damn bursts.

She trembles harder than before, and a beautiful elongated moan leaves her mouth as she cums on his face. He’s quick to withdraw his fingers and replace them with his tongue, gathering it all with the most disgusting sounds he could ever make— but fuck, if she wasn’t the most delicious woman in the whole world.

He was so into her, so transfixed on getting her off that he didn’t realize he was grinding up against nothing and the largest precum stain had marked his boxers and surely was on the inside of his work pants.

“Aaron, Aaron, oh my god, stop, stop, holy fuck,” she makes him stop by pulls off him and sits down on the pillow beside his head. Hand to her chest to catch her breath, she melts against the mattress, “sweet Jesus?”

“I need to do that every chance I get,” he muses, so in love with how it went down. “You’re delicious.”

She laughs, placing her hand on his big bicep as she looks down at his glistening face, “I’m going to take you up on that all the time.”

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he teases as he sits up, noticing just how close he was that whole time.

His cock is strained against his boxers, soaking them around the elastic band, darkening the gray fabric so much that he feels a little embarrassed. She notices it too, but she smiles, “Oh, you really liked that, didn’t you?”

He nods, unable to say much.

“Come on, get your pants off, I think I’ve calmed down enough to take care of you now,” she assures.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He gets off the bed and starts to take off his pants while she looks around for her own, “can you get the condom from my pocket?”

“Yeah,” he goes right for her pants right after his are off.

She just looks around the room, avoiding eye contact with his cock even though he knows she wants to look, “I didn’t even ask if you have cameras in here…”

He laughs, kneeling on the edge of the bed with the condom between his fingers, “No, I don’t. With all the confidential material I see in here and the conversations had in here, they didn’t put a camera in here. But there is one directly outside my office so they know you’re in here but they won’t know what you’re doing.”

“And who is this they you speak of?” She teases.

“Whoever watches the tapes but probably also Penelope… if she learns I was here all Christmas she will go back and look to see what I did,” he shakes his head with a loving smile. “She just cares a lot.”

“She’s the sweetest,” she agrees. “But thank fucking god no one can see what we’re doing… I’m glad this is just for us.”

“Mhm,” he hums, he gets between her legs and tugs her down the bed a bit so she’s lying with her head on the pillow, “they don’t need to see what’s about to happen.”

“although someone should teach more guys how to eat like that…”

He laughs again, leaning down to kiss her, “Then you’d have any guy you want and I'd rather be the only one for you.”

“Very true,” she says against his lips before pressing her lips against his.

They just kiss a couple times before he pulls back and sits on his knees once more, opening the condom and rolling it on. She finally takes a look at what he’s got going on between his legs and he sees her lick her lips while taking in a deep breath. “Fuck sake, you really are going to ruin me…”

He smirks, “Do you want me to? We could just have a sweet and slow—

“No, I need a good fucking, like the fuck my brains out kind,” she assures.

“It’s your lucky day,” he teases, running his hand over her inner thigh as he helps her spread them. “I can do that for you.”

“Do your worst—

“Oh no, it’ll be my best,” he says, gripping his cock and tapping it against her pussy. “You ready?”

“Please?” She begs, pleading with her beautiful eyes.

He slips in ever so slowly, letting her adjust to his girth as he leans over her. He caresses her face with one hand, holding himself up with his lover, watching her take it all in. Head tossed back, she bites her lip and then lets out a blissful sigh. She grips his sides, wanting to desperately pull him down on top of herself once more, but she waits until he’s fully inside.

“Oh my god?” She whines, “please move, I need more, please?”

He smirks, leaning in to kiss the side of her mouth as he starts to rock his hips. He wraps his arm under her as she pulls him in closer and moves her mouth so they can kiss for real. She moans against him as his rhythm changes, his hips speed up and she wraps her legs around him to get him even deeper inside her.

She feels so amazing, he almost forgot what it was like to fuck something other than his own hand. The way she flutters around him and grips him so tight, the feeling of her nails in his back and her tongue on his own. He’s in absolute heaven. So good in fact, he’s afraid he might not last as long as she deserves.

He reaches between them and rubs her clit with his thumb, moving his kisses to her neck and just below her ear, “doing so good, baby.”

“Holy fuck, Aaron,” she moans, tossing her head back and pushing her chest up.

He looks between them and can’t help himself, he kisses her chest and she looks down to see what he’s doing, he looks up to her for permission only to hear, “suck on them, please? Please, oh my god?”

He takes her nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before gently running his bottom teeth over the nib. She gasps, tightening around him which makes him moan with her nipple in his mouth. He brings up his other hand, using it to pinch her other nipple and she absolutely flutters around him, it’s everything.

When he lets go of her nipples, he reaches his hand under her knee and pushes her right leg up. The angle changes, he’s so much deeper now, hitting her right where she wants him again and again, he kisses the inside of her calf gently as she tosses her head back. She moans, tightening around him to the point he’s so sure he’s about to lose control.

He may be out of practice, but he’s not out of manners. He needs her to finish first.

Using all the power he has left, he keeps her leg up like that but adjusts himself so his pubic bone can rub against her swollen clit with each and every thrust. “More,” she spits out. “Please? ‘M so close.”

His hand slips down her leg, “I know baby,” he coos, keeping her stretched open, he just needs to get his thumb on her clit.

He stills for just a moment, gathers some spit in his mouth and drops it between them so it lands right on her clit to release the friction but then he picks right back up. She whines, sweating and her head tossed back, getting ruined just like she asked to be.

She somehow tightens around him again, and he’s so fucking close he feels like he could go insane. “you’re right there, sweet girl, let go when you’re ready,” he says through bated breath. So fucking close.

And that does it, she starts to tremble again, her core tightens and so does her grip on his arm. “Oh, Aaron!” She moans out a string of incoherent words follow as she lets go and gets lost in her pleasure.

He keeps going, helping her ride through it before his rhythm changes. He’s right there, dropping down onto her and kissing her shoulder as he pile-drives into her for the home stretch. Her hands roam his back, caressing him, “Fill me up, Aaron, you deserve it,” she whispers in his ear. “Cum for me, come on, baby.”

He whines, right there, scared of what noise is going to come out of him when he does cum but he also doesn’t really care at this point. He whimpers and groans, biting her shoulder slightly as he fills the condom and stills against her, “Oh my god? Oh, my god… holy fuck?”

She wraps her arms around him once more, tighter like a hug this time, still panting, she agrees. “I know, Jesus.”

He laughs against her, high on endorphins and feeling completely invincible, “You’re amazing.”

She grips his hair at the nape of his neck and pulls him up off of her shoulder, “You are incredible, that was the best sex I think I’ve ever had.”

He can’t help but smile as he leans in to kiss her. She brushes his hair off his forehead, it’s sweaty and slicks right back. Their kissing is softer this time, lazy and less lust-filled— more loving. Thankful.

He kisses her one last time before going to sit up on his knees and pull his soft cock out of her but she pulls him back in, “No, can we just cuddle like this for a bit?”

“Yeah,” he nods, not expecting her to want this but so glad she does.

He settles back against her shoulder, hand on her boob while she traces shapes over his back, “this is my favourite part,” she whispers.

“Me too… but I’m never usually on top,” he admits. “Or still inside…”

She lightly laughs and he can feel it all over, “What, your wife wasn’t a big fan?”

“Not really, she was quick to go get cleaned up and then she would cuddle into me and go to sleep… but I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” he admits.

“That’s okay,” she coos, soothing her hand down his back. She rests her cheek against the top of his head. “This has been the best night. Who thought getting snowed in at Quantico would end like this?”

“Not me, but I’m so glad it did.”

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

1K notes · View notes

supernova2205 · 1 month ago

Text

Duties Weight

John price x reader

Summary: After returning home from deployment, John Price unintentionally distances himself by prioritizing work over his wife, leaving her feeling neglected and lonely. Tensions rise when she confronts him about his absence, prompting John to realize the toll his behavior has taken on their relationship.

Warnings: slight angst to fluff happy ending

The house was too quiet again. It had been months now since you last heard his boots on the floor, his laughter in the kitchen, or the low murmur of his voice from the other room. You thought you’d get used to it by now—the endless cycle of deployments, followed by brief returns that always felt too short. But you never did.

The fridge calendar caught your eye as you passed by it, the bold red circle around today’s date standing out like a flare. He was finally coming home. You’d been counting down for weeks, the excitement and anticipation building like a tightly wound spring. You imagined the moment over and over in your head: the door opening, his arms around you, and the relief of knowing he was safe and with you again.

When the sound of the key turning in the lock finally came, you were already halfway to the door.

“John?” you called, your voice catching in your throat.

The door swung open, and there he was. For a moment, your breath caught. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and he looked just as you remembered, though exhaustion etched deep lines into his face. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes you’d missed so much, softened when they landed on you.

“Hey, love,” he said quietly, setting his duffel bag down by the door.

Before you could stop yourself, you launched forward, wrapping your arms around him. His arms came around you a moment later, strong and warm, pulling you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him—faint cologne, a hint of sweat, and something uniquely John.

“You’re back,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I’m back,” he replied, his voice rumbling in his chest.

For a while, you stayed like that, clinging to each other as if letting go might make him disappear. But when you finally pulled back to look at him, something about his expression made your heart ache. There was a distance in his eyes, a heaviness that hadn’t been there before.

The first few days after his return passed in a blur. You’d filled your head with plans for his homecoming—movie nights, home-cooked meals, lazy mornings spent in bed together. But those plans quickly fell to the wayside. John, it seemed, had other priorities.

He spent most of his time at the kitchen table, surrounded by papers and his laptop. You’d catch glimpses of mission reports, diagrams, and pages upon pages of notes. When you tried to sit with him, he’d barely glance up, his focus unshakable.

“Can’t this wait?” you asked one evening, setting a cup of tea beside him. “You’re home now. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t,” he said, not looking up. “I’ve got deadlines.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to argue, to tell him that this wasn’t what you’d been waiting for, but you didn’t. Instead, you nodded silently and walked away, biting back the sting of disappointment.

As the days stretched into weeks, the pattern continued. John woke up early to work and stayed up late to finish whatever he was doing. Even when he was physically present, it felt like his mind was somewhere else.

One evening, you sat alone on the couch, a bowl of popcorn growing cold in your lap as a movie played on the TV. You’d asked John to join you, hoping for even a sliver of time together, but he’d waved you off, muttering something about needing to finish a report.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away angrily. You weren’t mad at him—not really. But the loneliness was suffocating. You’d waited so long for him to come home, only to feel like he wasn’t truly here.

The breaking point came on a rainy afternoon. You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, when John walked in, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I’ll have the report sent over by tonight,” he said, his voice clipped.

You froze, the knife hovering mid-air. When he didn’t even look at you, something inside you snapped. You slammed the knife down on the cutting board with a sharp crack, the sound startling even you.

John glanced up, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you echoed, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “You’ve been home for weeks, John, and it feels like you’re still a thousand miles away.”

His expression shifted, confusion giving way to something harder to place. “I’ve been busy, love. You know that.”

“Busy,” you said bitterly, the word tasting sour on your tongue. “You’re always busy. Do you even realize how lonely it’s been? How lonely it still is, even with you here?”

John opened his mouth as if to respond but closed it again, his jaw tightening.

You set the knife down, your hands trembling. “I just… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

For a moment, he looked like he’d been struck. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

That night, John sat alone in his study, staring at the papers in front of him. He didn’t read a single word. Your voice echoed in his head, each sentence hitting harder than the last.

How had it come to this? He’d always believed he was doing the right thing, that his work was for the greater good—for your future together. But now, sitting in the silence of the house, he realized how much he’d taken for granted. He’d been so focused on his duty that he’d forgotten the one person he was doing it all for.

The next evening, you came home from work to the smell of something delicious wafting through the house. Confused, you called out, “John?”

“In here!”

Following his voice, you stepped into the dining room and stopped in your tracks. The table was set with your favorite dishes, candles flickering in the center. John stood by the stove, wearing an apron and looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“What’s all this?” you asked, your heart pounding.

He wiped his hands on a towel and stepped closer, taking your hands in his. “It’s an apology,” he said simply.

“John…”

“Please, let me say this,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been a terrible husband. I thought I was doing the right thing by focusing on work, but I’ve been blind to what you really need—what we need.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip to keep them from spilling over.

“I’m so sorry,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t promise I’ll always get it right, but I want to try. I want to be better—for you, for us.”

The tears came then, hot and unstoppable. You threw your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could.

That night, you shared a meal filled with laughter and conversation, the warmth between you slowly melting away the frost that had built up over the weeks. John told you stories from his deployment, and you shared what you’d been up to while he was gone. For the first time in what felt like forever, it felt like you were truly together.

Over the following weeks, John made good on his promise. He set boundaries with his work, carving out time for you no matter how busy things got. There were still moments of frustration, old habits that were hard to break, but the effort he put in made all the difference.

The house felt alive again, filled with love, laughter, and the man you’d fallen for all those years ago. As you curled up together on the couch one evening, his arm around you and your head resting on his chest, you let yourself savor the moment.

Loving John Price might never be easy, but as you listened to the steady beat of his heart, you knew one thing for certain: it was always worth it.

Authors note: sorry I’ve been inactive guys I’ve been trying to figure out how to write part 2 for unexpected company but it still feels like it’s missing something so I decided to post this in the meantime hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

#cod 141 #task force 141 #captain price #mw2 141 #light angst #john price #price x reader #price cod #price call of duty #cod mw3 #cod x reader #cod mw2

107 notes · View notes