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norrisjpg · 8 months ago

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novacane - ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.

contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x unnamed female character

...

...

lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.

the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.

venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.

"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.

fucking hell.

she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.

his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.

again, lando thought he was actually going to die.

"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.

he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.

"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.

yep, he was definitely going to die.

...

if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.

she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.

he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.

"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.

he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.

"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.

"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.

"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.

technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.

"let's go, come on."

...

as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.

she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.

“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.

“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.

“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”

she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.

“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.

"you think?" she responded quietly.

"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.

a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.

god, she looked divine.

she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)

a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.

"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.

a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?

"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.

"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"

"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.

he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.

not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.

she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.

over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.

they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.

"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.

the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.

"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.

"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."

he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.

their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.

"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.

he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.

lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)

the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.

breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.

the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.

she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.

"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"

pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?

"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.

now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.

his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.

maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.

his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.

sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.

"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

she was so gone.

lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.

she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.

she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.

she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.

that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.

slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.

"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.

"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"sleep, definitely."

#formula one #fanfiction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris smut #lando norris one shot #lando norris #f1 2024 #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #whorelandonorris

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heich0e · 5 days ago

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katsuki comes home, marches right up behind you in the kitchen, and tosses you over his shoulder.

"katsuki!" you shriek. you only barely let go of your steaming, freshly-poured cup of tea in time for it not to go flying as your world goes topsy turvy. "katsuki, what are you—?"

the man whose shoulder you find yourself so unceremoniously hoisted atop doesn't say anything, just carries you off in the direction of your bedroom and flops you down—in a surprisingly gentle way—into your bed.

his hair is still damp from his post-patrol shower, like he hadn't bothered to dry it before racing home. his cheeks are a bit pink. his eyes are narrowed in determination, but still loving.

"what is going on?" you breathe in bewilderment, sprawled out underneath your husband. there are butterflies in your stomach that you can't explain. there's an anticipation thrumming through you that you don't quite understand.

"i'm fuckin' sick of people being so damn nosy all the time," he says, his jaw clenching as he spits out the words.

his hands rest on your thighs as he stands between them at the end of the bed, holding you tightly, but not painfully so. they slip up under the hem of your oversized t-shirt, the one you'd been planning to wear to sleep, until you feel the heat of his palms on your hips.

"and who are 'people'?" you ask.

"just... everyone," he mutters with his brow furrowed in frustration. his fingertips knead into your waist, and you resist the urge to wiggle down the bed into his touch. you click your tongue in admonishment.

"that's not very specific," you remark, a bit cheeky, and katsuki's fingertips press harder into the soft give of your sides as he flashes you a fond, warning look.

"the assholes in the press, strangers in the street who stop me on patrol, the bastards at the commission, my old man and the hag, even fuckin' izuku's been up my ass lately about it," katsuki rattles off a list of names that don't really mean all that much to you without context.

"about what?" you ask him.

katsuki's palms flatten against you, slipping down until the rest over your tummy. he peers down at your body from his place between your legs, your skin exposed now that your t-shirt's been pushed up to your ribs. he sneaks a glance at you through the fan of his lashes.

"... havin' babies."

your breath hitches, and he quickly looks away.

"oh?"

katsuki hums in response to the inquisitive little sound you make. a low rumble that comes from deep in his chest and makes you want to squirm. that makes you want to press your thighs together for relief.

"... even the little guy's been givin' me hell about it."

'the little guy' meaning izuku's very sweet four-year-old son, tenko, who thinks his beloved uncle—referred to almost exclusively as kaccha!!—is responsible for hanging the sun in the sky and has the answers to practically all of life's questions.

you feel similarly, and therefore get along very well with the kid.

"well, that's a real problem, huh?" you murmur, and your husband's thumbs sweep up against your skin. he hums again, that same sound that drives you crazy.

he looks at you, properly this time—pinning you with his stare, as though you'd ever think of running away. the red of his eyes is as dizzying as the day you met him.

"think we can figure out a solution to it?" he asks you, his voice breathy. hopeful.

he takes you by the hips and drags you slowly down the bed until your hips are flush against his. your shirt rucks up over your chest in the process, but you make no move to pull it down again.

you reach up, and katsuki dips until your arms can embrace him—winding their way around his shoulders so you can pull him into your space. he kisses you sweetly, once, and then again a little longer.

"yeah," you whisper against his mouth once he pulls ever so slightly away, answering the question still left hanging in the very narrow space left between your bodies. "i think we can try."

#baby bug!au

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starrysturnz · 2 months ago

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overseas, under you

pairing. chris sturniolo x reader

summary. the boys invite y/n to come along on their winter vacation to hawaii, but problems arise when she finds herself sharing a bedroom with her long time secret crush… and it only has one bed.

warnings. mutual pining between two idiots. smut; a wet dream, some grinding… minor voyuerism in a way. they’re so cute they make me feel so lonely and i literally made them up.

word count. 3.9k

author’s note. one bed trope friends to lovers my beloved <3 a bit cliche but i think i was able to put a unique spin on it! lmk what you guys think :3 this started getting too long so i broke it into two parts!! part two will be released at the beginning of next week. happy valentine’s day to everyone, especially @strnilolover and @darksturnz for helping a girl out with ideas!! kisses!

masterlist | taglist | part two

a sharp beep beep! from her driveway was y/n’s cue to move along. she’d been rushing all morning to finish up her last-minute packing, having left half of the job for the day of, in true procrastinator fashion. a quick sweep through her mental checklist— phone, wallet, keys, passport— and she was scrambling out of the house.

she almost forgot to lock the door behind her when she caught sight of the boy in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers impatiently against the leather of the steering wheel. chris always managed to take her breath away, as if it were the first time she was seeing his sharp jawline and piercing aquamarine eyes. shaking the thought away, she turned around and stuffed her key into the lock, triple checking that it was secure before shuffling off to throw her luggage in the trunk.

the slam of the driver’s side door fell on deaf ears as the girl hoisted her suitcase into the van, on a mission to be as quick as possible (after all, she was making them late). a light touch on her wrist had y/n jumping out of her skin, almost dropping the second bag onto the icy ground at her feet. her free hand flew to her chest as her head whipped around to find chris there, the feeling of his fingertips burning into the back of the other still gripping the handle.

chris was already smiling when they locked eyes. “i got it, ma.”

“chris,” she breathed, her shoulders dropping. “thank you.”

“’s nothing,” he replied warmly, in a way that had her cheeks heating up in the cold boston air. “go hop up front, a’ight? you’re picking music. but if you choose wrong, i’m giving matt aux privileges.”

⁺⁎˚

the ride to the airport was relatively uneventful. chris was too focused on following the gps to chat with anyone, not willing to miss an exit and add more time to detour. nick and matt were busy discussing the logistics of an upcoming space camp photoshoot in the backseat, leaving y/n to chew anxiously on her nails, her thoughts racing so fast they could lap the van on the highway.

she felt like an intruder. this trip had been a sort of anniversary gift from a brand the triplets had been partnered with for two years— an all-expenses-paid vacation to hawaii. they could’ve invited anyone, and they used their one extra ticket on her.

even though the boys assured her multiple times that their decision was instant and unanimous— “of course we want you there, you’re our best friend,”— y/n still felt guilty, insisting their brother, justin, might be a more logical choice. it was chris who’d spoken first, claiming that if they’d invited justin, they’d have had to find a way to include their parents as well, and then they’d be paying out of pocket.

it sort of made sense, y/n could admit. but maybe a part of her wished that chris wanted her there for another reason. she wished she was his plus one. that they could hold hands on the beach at sunset. that he would wrap her in his towel to keep her warm as the salty air grew colder. that—

“hey. y/n.”

a two-toned whistle had her tumbling off her train of thought, head snapping toward the driver’s seat at the sound of chris’s voice.

“you good? we’re here.”

she cleared her throat. “sorry. i was just….”

she wasn’t even sure the boy had heard her, already pushing his door open to grab their bags from the back. taking a deep breath, y/n followed suit, double checking they hadn’t left anything in the car before heading to the departures entrance.

⁺⁎˚

y/n was an infrequent flyer, to say the least. the few times she had been on a plane, she found herself in the back of the cabin, sandwiched between large men whose legs took up half her space, and unruly children who should’ve been old enough to know not to throw their toys into her lap.

this was something else entirely. a whole private cubical to herself, with a seat that reclined into a bed? no large men, no unruly children? it was a dream, if nothing else. she was thrilled.

but she also wished she wasn’t in first class. which is ridiculous, by the way— no one ever wishes they weren’t in first class, it’s a backwards thought process. and y/n knew that, but she also knew that if they’d just been in comfort plus, she could sit next to chris, chatting and laughing as usual. he would make the twelve hour flight feel like nothing, but instead, it would feel like double the trip in her little isolation pod.

the thought had her kicking herself in guilt. not only was she in first class, but she was there for free. it wasn’t fair of her to be upset about anything.

unbeknownst to the girl, chris caught the crease in her brow, frowning at the idea that something was bothering her. he waited a minute for the people around them to take their seats before crossing the aisle to her seat, knocking gently on the partition to get her attention.

“y’know, for someone going on a tropical vacation, you don’t seem too excited,” he mused. there was a teasing edge to his voice, but just beneath the surface, concern. “what, you worried you forgot to take out the trash before you left and your house’ll be smelly when you get home?”

“well i am now!” y/n groaned. “jesus, chris, why would you even say that?”

chris’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at her expense. “relax, ma, i’m just playin‘. knowing you, i bet you even swept your driveway before leaving. you didn’t forget anything.”

“swept my—?”

“excuse me, sir,” a polite tone sounded from the other aisle on the right side of the plane, “you’ll need to take your seat now. we will be taking off shortly.”

“’s my cue,” said chris, offering her one last reassuring smile. “stop stressing, okay? everything’s gonna be fine.”

⁺⁎˚

everything was not fine.

it was now three hours into the flight, and y/n had made the mistake of falling asleep immediately, missing dinner. she’d needed it, too, since the whole day had been so busy that she’d only managed to grab a couple snacks here and there. a small bag of chips was the only sustenance at her disposal, and the thought of eating another helping of overly-salted junk food made her feel queasy. she supposed she’d have to wait five hours until breakfast was served.

she’d just decided on a movie to try to pass the time when she heard the unmistakable sound of chris’s voice, his chin resting in his palm as he propped himself up on the partition.

“you get your beauty sleep?”

the boy’s hair was mussed— clearly, he’d made himself comfortable in his own seat. his sagging shoulders gave the impression that he was tired, but his shining eyes were wide awake.

“guess so.”

he hummed, his gaze softening just so. “doing okay? it’s gonna be a long flight still. you need anything?”

y/n gave him her best fake smile, not wanting to ask for anything more than she’d already been given. “i’m good, chris, don’t worry.”

mischief crept its way onto his face at her response, and before she could question it, he said, “guess you won’t be needing this, then.” he pulled the packaged meal from behind his back with a dramatic sigh and a look of faux disappointment he could only hold for so long at y/n’s reaction.

a gasp fell from her lips, her stomach growling at the site. “oh, my god, chris, how did you get that?”

“they skipped you at dinner,” he shrugged. “figured you were passed out, so i asked for two. first class comes with perks, apparently.”

“you’re incredible,” she sighed, relief washing over her like warm water when he handed her the container. “thank you. seriously.”

“’course, ma.” chris turned to head back to his seat, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

“wait, chris…," she blurted, maybe a little too quickly, "can you stay?”

when he turned back around, y/n’s demeanor had shifted from relaxed to tense— like she was afraid she might’ve said the wrong thing. her neck was turtling just barely into her shoulders, and she was picking at her fingernails, a longtime nervous habit chris had (unsuccessfully) tried many times to help her break.

it made his heart hurt. “sure, yeah. scooch over a little.”

the seat was suitable for one person, but it was obviously not built for a cuddle session. the pair struggled to find a comfortable position for a few minutes, before settling on chris sitting behind y/n, arms wrapped around her middle as she ate her dinner. she tried to ignore the electric feeling of his thumbs rubbing into her waist through her hoodie— and it had almost made her choke on a mouthful when he’d first started. she wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it.

when she’d finished the last of her lukewarm meal, chris set her tray off to the side in favor of pulling her back to lay down with him.

“i know you’re tired, y/n,” he spoke quietly, his breath fanning her temple, flexing his biceps to bring her that much closer to his chest (a move that made her cheeks grow warm). he planted a hand to the back of her head to steady her against his heart. “go to sleep, okay? i’ll wake you up for breakfast. promise.”

y/n only nodded, and prayed he couldn’t feel the intensity of her heartbeat through their clothing.

⁺⁎˚

the hotel was nice. far nicer than any y/n had ever stayed in before. the lobby alone was massive, with advertisements for every amenity a person could ask for— including a spa, which the girl would happily be taking advantage of. the thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

nick, noticing, asked, “everything okay?”

she nodded. “just excited to finally relax. i’m afraid the first thing i’m going to do is take a long nap.”

“i hear you. matt kept me up all night with his giggling next door.”

“sorry i like comedies,” the middle triplet rolled his eyes, “not my fault you’re such a light sleeper. y’know they had complimentary earplugs, right?”

“i have sensitive ears, matthew.”

“next guest?” called the concierge before matt could respond, and he gave nick a pointed look before stepping up to check them in.

“so, chris,” nick started with a teasing tone, “what happened to you last night?”

“what do you mean, ‘what happened’ to me?” chris said, seemingly annoyed by the conversation already.

“i got up to use the bathroom and when i peeked into your seat, you were gone. care to tell where you were?”

y/n felt the flush make its way to her face, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. she opened her phone, hoping to appear busy as she listened anxiously.

“dude, why were you peeking, that’s so creepy—”

“don’t sidestep my question, mister,” nick pressed. “you were gone when i came back, too.”

“i was hanging out with y/n, jeez, man. and it’s weird that you were stalking me, like that’s insane.”

“what, how—? i’m your brother! is it insane that i want to know where you are and that you’re safe? what if you were being kidnapped?”

“on a plane? really, nick?”

grateful that the subject had changed, y/n tuned out the rest of their argument, having mastered that skill many years ago. she watched as matt spoke with the kind-looking older fellow at the service desk, who eventually handed him two room keys. matt offered him a smile in return, and waved the rest of the group over to the elevators.

“okay, so,” he began handing them their respective keycards, “me and nick will take 1207. chris and y/n, you get 1204.”

y/n’s head snapped up at that. “i thought i was rooming with nick.”

“originally, yeah,” said matt, “but we had to move the space camp photoshoot to the early morning, remember? and since me and nick will have to wake up at, like, six, we figured we’d just bunk together.”

she paused. y/n did recall the boys mentioning how matt would come along to the photoshoot because nick needed someone he trusted to help oversee the production, since they’d be working with an entirely unfamiliar crew. she didn’t know they’d changed the time, though.

this wasn’t even out of the norm— y/n had slept over at the sturniolo’s many times growing up, often spending the night in the boys’ beds with them. but something about sharing a hotel room with chris, just the two of them, for a week... it filled her with butterflies.

“and the rooms aren’t connecting?” she clarified.

“well, they’re across from each other,” said matt. “sort of. we’ll just be ten feet away, don’t worry.”

“that okay?” asked chris, a nervous tinge in his voice.

y/n smiled as confidently as she could manage. “yeah, yes. of course. as long as i can take my long showers in peace.”

“fine. but you better leave the door unlocked in case i have to piss.”

they all laughed at that as the elevator doors opened, and headed in the direction of their rooms.

“okay,” matt began, checking his phone, “can we all agree to meet downstairs for dinner at eight?”

“eight? why so late?”

“because i’m tired, nick. i want to sleep. sue me.”

“at least you got some sleep last night,” nick mumbled, and matt’s hand flew up to smack him in the arm, but chris caught his wrist before it could land.

“just go take your nap. we’ll be down at eight.”

with that, the two retreated into their room. chris fumbled with his keycard for a moment, and y/n’s mouth had just opened to offer help when he managed to open the door.

“finally, some peace and—”

chris’s words died in his throat when he saw the room ahead of him. it was beautiful, like the rest of the hotel, with a mini-bar, a luxury bathroom with a glass shower, and floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. what he wasn’t expecting, however, was the bed.

the one bed.

behind him, y/n yawned, pushing past to be able to close the door. “what’s the matter?” she asked, before catching sight of the issue. “oh.”

it was quiet for a few moments.

chris didn’t know what to think. on the one hand, he’d be a liar if he said that this situation wasn’t on par with countless scenarios he’d daydreamed about him and y/n; the prospect of sleeping next to her— feeling her soft skin against his bare chest, the fresh scent of her shampoo filling his lungs— definitely excited him, no doubt about it. he wished they could have that every day.

on the other hand, he knew this wasn’t like all those times she had spent the night at their place over the years. back in boston, y/n split her time relatively evenly between the triplets. sure, she slept in chris’s bed occasionally, cuddling up close to him under his painfully thin comforter (often complaining that it needed replacing), but she did the same with matt and nick…. chris wasn’t special for that. here, though, in this five star hotel room… it would be just the two of them, alone every night, without so much as a connecting room with the others. it felt different, and he’d be remiss to blindly assume her comfort there.

the silence hung heavily in the air around them, creeping into awkward territory, but it seemed nobody wanted to speak first. chris glanced at y/n, who shifted her weight from one foot to the other. he tried to read her expression, but couldn’t land on anything concrete.

wanting to get ahead of the situation, to prove to y/n that her feelings were his priority, chris said in his best reassuring tone, “no worries. ’s probably just a mistake. i bet they’ll find us another room if we call the front desk.”

y/n’s heart dropped. of course chris didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as her for a whole week. that would be weird, she knew it would be. she just hadn’t expected him to suggest getting another room so quickly— knowing chris, she assumed he would make a few jokes about sharing, maybe playfully suggest she sleep on the floor (to which she would gently smack him upside the head, probably), but ultimately leave it up to her to decide. and from there, she could’ve told him it was no big deal. but now… well, she didn’t want to make him feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to.

“uh, yeah,” she cleared her throat. “yeah, let’s call, then.”

nobody mentioned the way their once-bubbly energy seemed to fall flat, like a soda that had been left out overnight. in fact, nobody said another word until chris got the concierge on the line.

y/n didn’t bother to pay any attention to the call. she was busy trying not to let her exhaustion and disappointment mark the beginning of this trip; they were supposed to have fun! she needed to shake this one minor thing off and get to vacationing. maybe a visit to the spa would—

“you’re sure? all right. no, it’s no problem. thanks. you too.”

a short huff came from chris as he placed the phone back onto the receiver. scratching the inner corner of his eye, he spoke in an apologetic voice, “they said they’re booked out.” a sympathetic smile graced his perfect lips. “’m sorry. guess you’re stuck with me.”

y/n had never tried so hard to keep her emotions off her face. relief and excitement trickled down her spine, kickstarting her brain. it was like her body forgot it was tired. but she figured chris was probably still uneasy about it, and she didn’t want to seem like a creep.

“okay,” she said, “how about we figure out plan b later? i really need this nap right now.” a minor fib— she was giddy in the moment, yes, but the second her back touched a mattress, she’d be done for.

“all right, sleeping beauty,” the triplet rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eye crinkling. “you take the bed, i’ll take the chair.”

“don’t be ridiculous,” she tried, hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck, “you need to sleep as much as i do, chris. come lay down.”

“are you sure? it’s no big, honest.”

she giggled, partially to lighten the mood, but also because she found this whole thing to be a bit silly. they’d cuddled countless times! waving him over, she teased, “since when are you too good to nap with me? get over here.”

the content smile on his face was all the reassurance she needed.

⁺⁎˚

chris was losing his mind.

there was no one to blame but himself. he knew agreeing to sleep with y/n (in the literal sense) would be a bad idea, but he hadn’t anticipated this.

by some random fluke, he’d woken up before their alarm went off, disoriented. it took him a few moments to realize where he was, what he was doing there, and… why his chest felt so heavy.

his breath caught. somehow, in the midst of their nap, y/n had ended up right on top of chris— her face buried in his neck, ribs expanding and contracting opposite his own. her legs, which had fallen either side of him, were slightly bent, giving him a sinful view of her ass in those yoga pants.

chris laid there for a moment or so, dumbfounded by his sudden predicament. what was the right thing to do here? he couldn’t wake her up, they still had— (he looked over at the clock)— half an hour until the alarm sounded. and moving her felt like too risky a disturbance. if anyone needed the rest right now, it was y/n.

the boy sighed, gazing at the ceiling like it might have an answer written on it. a minute passed, and just when he thought things couldn’t get more complicated— a whimper.

so faint that at first, chris figured he’d imagined it. but then came another, louder this time, and he definitely didn’t imagine that.

she must’ve been having a nightmare. his heart broke a little at the idea that she wasn’t enjoying what little sleep they were able to get after such a long trip. his arms came up to carefully hold her, rubbing her back with tender strokes so as not to startle her awake. closing his eyes, he hoped that her subconscious would recognize his comforting touch and send the bad dreams away.

“i got you, ma,” he whispered quietly, continuing the motions on her back. it didn’t seem to help— she was still tense above him.

… then the craziest thing: the girl’s hips rutting gently into his own. “chris,” y/n whined, eyes still shut tight, another whimper spilling from her mouth.

chris’s eyes shot open.

no way. she was dreaming about him?

now he was really fucked. if he didn’t move her, he’d surely be getting hard any minute, and that would be… difficult to explain, to put it simply. but if he did, and she woke up, she’d suspect he’d done so for a reason, and she’d be embarrassed either way.

“please, chris.” she sounded desperate.

chris felt like a perv, with his unconscious friend unknowingly grinding on him and whining his name into his neck. god, maybe he was dreaming; she looked so beautiful like this. but she was clearly in some level of distress, and his concern for his friend outweighed his morals.

“okay, ’s okay baby. ’m here,” he laid his cheek against the top of her head, hugging her tighter to him. “’m right here, y/n.”

he kept rubbing her back— slowly, reassuringly. y/n’s body shook in his hold, and chris had to stifle a moan as she gave a particularly hard rut of her hips, another distressed noise hitting his ears. poor thing.

“shh. c’mon, ma… you’re okay.”

eventually, y/n’s movements began to still, and soon the only sounds to be heard were her soft snores filling the room, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

the boy beneath her stared at a spot on the wall, in shock. his best friend just had a dirty dream about him, right on top of him! what was he supposed to do now? tell her? ignore it? the thought of letting this go made his stomach churn.

what if it meant nothing? he’d had countless sexual dreams about people he wasn’t romantically interested in. (if every accidental fantasy had a deeper meaning, he’d be married to his high school algebra tutor by now.) chris couldn’t help but wonder, though…

what if it meant everything?

taglist: @stylessuperwhore @sofieeeeex

#ᨀ☆⠇chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fanfiction #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

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delulujuls · 10 months ago

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healing sessions | aegon II targaryen

hi, it's been a hot minute since i posted here, the last weeks were pretty intense for me and since i have a summer break now, i would like to start writing again and do it more regularly.

this is something new here and since new episode of hotd dropped, im in my westeros era, so please prepare for something other than my last shots (i will still write for f1, don't worry)

and lemme set this straight, im team black till the day i die but those green bastards are FINE AS HELL lmao. also @alicenthightcwer is author of those gifts

summary: aegon isn't dealing well with his father loss, but gladly there is someone who's gonna do her best to lift his spirit a bit

warnings: it's fluff without basically any plot, sister x brother romance so targaryens at their finest, mentions of death, depression, alcohol, drugs

pairing: sister!reader x aegon targaryen

The news of King Viserys's death did not surprise the residents of King's Landing. Nonetheless, the loss of the kind ruler dealt a painful blow to the city, which seemed to freeze in time with the king's passing. The capital plunged into mourning, and in addition to the banners, black flags were hoisted. Westeros was left without a king.

Viserys's successor, his second child and first son, Aegon Targaryen, had not been seen since the king's funeral. Aegon had lost not just a king but, most importantly, a father who, unfortunately for him, named him the future ruler on his deathbed.

Aegon would have gladly given the throne to Rhaenyra, his older half-sister. He would have done it without hesitation, even placing the crown on her head himself. Unfortunately, his mother Alicent, who was with her dying husband and heard his wish to elevate their eldest son to the throne, decided to fulfill her beloved husband's last wish at any cost.

To be honest, Aegon couldn't care less about being king. The young prince had not left his bed for several days, thick curtains blocking any light from outside. Occasionally, servants were allowed into his chambers, but only with wine and poppy milk. Aegon did not eat, allowed no one near him, and slept. Sleep was his salvation. Even the prostitutes, who once outnumbered the rats in the castle, were no longer summoned. The fiery prince had dimmed.

Alicent knew she needed to give her son time to grieve. She didn't bother him, only inquiring about his condition from the servants who managed to enter his chambers. It was enough for her to know that he was alive. Aegon's siblings dealt with their grief in their own ways, and his condition hardly impressed anyone. Except for Y/N, who, despite her own pain, worried about her brother. Sitting at breakfast, she silently observed Aegon's chair, which remained empty. After her husband's death, Alicent decreed that all meals, not just dinners, be taken together. The firstborn had not appeared at any of them since.

After a silent breakfast punctuated by brief, formal conversations, Y/N stood up and grabbed a plate, filling it with Aegon's favorite croissants and a portion of strawberries. She was done pretending nothing was wrong. This had to end.

"You shouldn't go to him," Alicent said quietly as the servants began clearing the table. "You know him, he'll come out when he's ready."

"Or he'll drink himself to death first," she replied, not even glancing at her mother. Alicent clasped her hands and pressed them to her lips, watching her family fall apart without knowing how to stop it.

Y/N left the dining room and went to Aegon's chambers. She knocked first, wanting to maintain decorum, but knowing it was futile, she grabbed the handle and pushed the heavy door open. Inside was darkness. Only a nearly spent candle by the bed gave off any light; the room looked like a cave. She blindly set the plate on a table, and with arms outstretched, she made her way to the windows. With a swift motion, she drew the curtains, and even she was blinded by the sudden light that flooded in. Not hearing any curses from her brother, Y/N looked over her shoulder. On the large bed, a figure lay curled up, back to her. From the waist down, he was covered with a sheet that blended with his pale skin. White hair in disarray touched the crumpled pillow. Aegon was either in a deep sleep or dead.

Y/N opened the curtains at every window, flinging some open. The room was stuffy, reeking of stale alcohol, sweat, and the sweet scent of poppy milk. She circled the bed, crouching opposite her brother. He was indeed asleep, but his breathing was shallow. His lips were cracked, stained with dried blood. His eyelashes were matted with tears, and dark circles marred his eyes. There was a bruise under his left eye that was different from the ones under his eyes, as it began to fade and turn from purple to green. Y/N remembered her mother, who had been rubbing her hand while sitting at the table for several days. She could only guess that Alicent was trying to shake her son off in her own way.

Aegon slept, lying on his side and hugging himself, seeking comfort only he could provide. Y/N brushed the tangled strands from his forehead and kissed him. Aegon did not stir.

The princess knew he wouldn't allow servants to tend to him. She left the room quietly, asking the maids to prepare a hot bath quickly and silently. Y/N returned and sat beside him on the bed, gently stroking his head.

Aegon wasn't the bad person many thought him to be. True, he was unique, and in a room full of people, he was impossible to ignore, but no one is born evil. Now, Aegon was simply engulfed in darkness from which he couldn't free himself. The slender, sticky fingers of depression had tightened around his throat, allowing only alcohol to pass.

After some time, a maid stood by the bed, whispering that the bath was ready, nervously glancing at the sleeping prince, afraid of waking him up. Y/N thanked and dismissed her, then leaned in and kissed her brother's forehead again.

"Aegon..." she began softly, close to his ear. "Wake up, I have strawberries for you."

He furrowed his brow, feeling her hair tickle his face. At first, he thought it was a dream or a drunken hallucination, but when he felt the urge to sneeze, he wiped his face with his hand. When he opened his heavy eyelids and saw how bright it was, he pulled the pillow over his head.

"I said no one was to come in," he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'll have you killed for this."

"It's nice to see you too, considering I haven't seen you in over a week," she replied, sitting back on his bed and placing the breakfast she brought on the table beside him.

Hearing the familiar voice and wanting to ensure it wasn't a drunken hallucination, Aegon removed the pillow from his face, clutching it to his chest. From squinted eyes, his violet gaze spotted a well-known figure.

"Y/N?" he asked hoarsely, his voice betraying that he'd only spoken to chase away servants in the past days.

"Yes, it's me," she nodded. "And if you still want to kill me, you'll have to get out of bed, which I doubt you can do."

Aegon sighed, more of a grunt of dissatisfaction. He wanted to cover his face with the pillow again, but his sister took it and easily pulled it from his arms.

"Did you come here just to make my life more miserable?" he groaned, looking at her with displeasure.

"I came to stop what you thought was the best solution," Y/N explained. "I brought you breakfast and a hot bath."

"I don't want breakfast or a bath," Aegon replied, turning onto his other side. "And you can leave. Tell mother I'm not dead yet."

"I'm not leaving until you get out of bed," she informed him, staring at his back.

"Then enjoy your stay," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Y/N sighed. She knew it might be hard, but in a few days, she had almost forgotten her brother's character. And Aegon's character was sometimes the textbook definition of a Targaryen.

"I came here because I want to help you," Y/N began, feeling a lump in her throat. "No one talks to each other, and when they do, it's just some fucking formalities. Aemond flies on Vhagar every day, Helaena spends hours in the garden with her books, Rhaenyra has been on Dragonstone since the funeral, mother is banging with Cole at every turn, and I don't even know if you're alive," she said in one breath, feeling tears prickling her eyes. Only when she said it all out loud did she realize what was happening. It wasn't just about informing Aegon; it was about making herself understand. The truth hurt her even more than she expected.

Hearing his sister's trembling and upset voice, Aegon sighed and turned onto his back, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Only now could his sister see his full appearance. It was the image of a boy deep in mourning and struggling with unimaginable pain.

For a moment, they exchanged looks in silence until Aegon glanced at the nightstand beside his bed.

"Did you bring strawberries?"

She reached for the plate and placed it on the bed next to her brother. Aegon weakly lifted his hand and took one, eating it whole, including the stem.

"Croissants with filling?" he asked, chewing. Y/N nodded again.

"Nut and chocolate," she answered. Aegon silently took a croissant and slowly began to eat.

Y/N quickly wiped her cheeks as two single tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. The young prince looked at his sister, who also seemed different than he remembered from a few days ago. Her hair was still neatly combed, with a few small braids woven into it. The dark red dress, which he thought he had seen her wear before, now seemed to hang a bit loosely on her shoulders and wrinkle at the stomach. The color of the dress reminded him of the bloody cuticles around her nails, which she must have bitten out of nerves. Her face, still beautiful, was now paler than usual, almost as white as her hair. Her swollen eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and her lips seemed to have completely forgotten what a smile was.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment when he had finished eating. Y/N pushed the plate closer to him, and as he reached for another croissant, she only shrugged.

"I'm sad. And I sleep poorly," she replied, staring out the window.

"You know, poppy milk—", "I won't drink it," she interrupted him.

Aegon raised his hands in a defensive gesture, taking another bite of the croissant.

"And you?" she asked, looking at him. "How are you feeling?"

He also shrugged.

"I don't even know. Now I think I feel nothing," he said, looking back at her. "Most of the time I feel nothing, except when a wave of sadness hits, and then I cry like a child until I fall asleep again."

Y/N nodded silently. She could tell that Aegon had spent many hours crying.

He put the last piece of croissant in his mouth and reached for a strawberry, handing it to his sister. She took it and ate it, nodding with appreciation.

"Not bad, right?" Aegon said, seeing her reaction. "Unusually sweet for this time of year."

Y/N let out an involuntary snort, lowering her head. Their father was dead, the country was without a king, the family was falling apart, and this idiot was talking about how great the strawberries were.

"They really are good, I don't know what you mean," he replied, taking the last strawberry and popping it into his mouth. The girl smiled, for the first time in a long while, then looked at her brother.

"I miss you, you know?"

"I'm not dead yet," he said sarcastically, rubbing his face with his hands. Y/N set the plate aside, and Aegon extended his arm toward her, silently inviting a hug. The girl shook her head and stood up.

"Maybe I miss you, but not enough to hug you after so many days without a bath," she replied, nodding her head towards the bathroom.

"You've got to be kidding," he snorted, but she shook her head again and pointed to the bathroom. Aegon sighed and slid off the bed, looking at her reproachfully the entire time. When he stood, the sheet slipped off completely, and he, naked and unbothered, walked unsteadily toward the bathroom. Y/N asked the servants to change his bedding and clean the room while she locked herself in the bathroom with him. As he sat in the water, she perched on the edge of the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her dress.

She reached for the nearby comb and slowly began to untangle his matted hair. They both remained silent, as words were completely unnecessary at that moment. After a while, she put the comb down and picked up the sponge, wetting it and pouring water over his hair. Aegon closed his eyes and tilted his head forward.

Y/N grabbed the soap and lathered it in her hands, adding a few drops of lavender oil. Aegon smiled as the familiar, pleasant scent filled the air, while she began to wash his hair. He sat there with his eyes closed, allowing his sister to take care of him. Aegon felt that of everyone in the family, only Y/N truly cared about him. Despite being the second youngest sibling, just after Helaena, he had always gotten along best with her. They were almost inseparable, always sitting together at feasts, stuffing sweets into their pockets to eat later in the garden when they managed to escape the table. Rhaenyra, their half-sister, was always the oldest and most composed. Aemond, younger than Aegon, was calm and collected but could stab a knife into someone’s neck without blinking if provoked. Helaena lived in her own world, surrounded by books, flowers, and maesters who had tried to help her ever since they noticed something was off with the growing princess. Aegon was often irreformable, acting and speaking first and thinking later. When he was younger, he was incredibly unruly, the mastermind behind every wild idea that Y/N almost always eagerly supported. The young princess loved her brother, who always tried to make her smile. Aegon loved his sister and knew that of all the people in the castle, she was the only one he would kill for and die for either.

Young prince winced quietly when Y/N, massaging his tense shoulders, ran her thumb over a particularly tight muscle.

"You're as hard as a rock," she said, continuing to massage his back. Aegon smiled to himself.

"Not quite yet," he joked.

She rolled her eyes and soaked the sponge again, rinsing the soap off his back with warm water. As she got up to stoke the fire, Aegon submerged himself in the water, washing the soap off himself and his hair. After a moment, he sat up straight and wiped his face off, leaning on the sides of the tub. He silently watched his sister, whose silhouette was highlighted by the flickering fire in the fireplace. Her white, slightly wavy hair cascaded down her back. The young prince smiled and bit his lip. Blood of my blood.

When Y/N finished tending to the fire, she stood up and dusted off her hands. She looked up, feeling her brother's gaze on her. He watched her in silence.

"Care to join?" he asked, glancing at the tub before looking back at her.

She shook her head, stepping closer and looking at the murky water. "I think I'll pass this time."

Aegon extended his hand toward her, and she gave him hers, which he pressed to his lips, planting a wet kiss on her skin. She smiled at his gesture.

"I'll go dismiss the servants," she said, stroking his cheek. "Make sure you wash away all the sadness."

The princess left the bathroom and returned to the chambers. They looked much better now, with two servants finishing changing the bed linens. When they were done, she thanked and dismissed them. She approached the large wardrobe, looking for clean clothes for her brother. She planned to get him outside for a walk, even if just a short one.

She placed the clothes on a chair and sat on the bed, running her hand over the freshly made bedding. Shortly after, Aegon emerged from the bathroom, not bothering to cover himself with even a towel.

When he stood in the doorway, Y/N involuntarily looked up at him. She looked him up and down, causing Aegon to smile.

"Like what you see?" he asked, approaching the bed without taking his eyes off her.

"I'm just checking if you washed yourself properly," she retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze when he stood right in front of her.

Aegon still wore a faint smile as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His pale skin had gained a bit of color from the hot bath, but he had goosebumps from the cool, fresh breeze coming through the windows. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but his gaze was now clear and certain, darkening as he was looking at his sister.

"I missed you too," he said after a moment of silence, during which they exchanged looks. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "Make love with me."

It wasn't a command or even a request. It was a quiet murmur filled with desperation, almost sounding like a plea. Aegon needed to feel her warmth, needed to feel something other than the alcoholic breath of death that placed cold kisses on him.

She silently stood from the bed, and before he could say anything, she touched his cheek and kissed him. Aegon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning the kiss. Blindly, he started to fumble with the ties of her dress, but seeing his struggle, she began undressing herself. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her tenderly. When she loosened her corset, Aegon grabbed the bottom of her gown and quickly pulled it over her head, tossing it aside. She shivered at the sudden chill but soon felt Aegon's warm body against her skin. He smiled into her mouth.

"You're so soft," he whispered between kisses, holding her tightly as if he wanted to lock her inside his ribcage. "Go on, lie down."

She obeyed, positioning herself comfortably on a pile of pillows. Aegon hovered over her, kissing her gently. Their hands tangled in each other's hair, touching and grasping every bit of skin they could reach. Lips swollen from kissing released soft sighs and moans mixed with tender words.

Aegon could be gentle, delicate, and caring. He wasn't like this with the whores he sometimes brought to his chambers to relieve himself and kill boredom. But he loved his sister dearly and would never harm her.

The young prince couldn't remember the first time his sister came to his chambers and stayed the night. It was probably before their father's illness. One autumn, Aegon caught a terrible cold. He couldn't sleep at night, and his cough kept the entire western wing of the castle awake. One night, a sleepy Y/N went to his room, silently took the nearby laying ointment, sat on his hips, and began rubbing it on his chest. Aegon, feverish, thought he was hallucinating. But when he woke up the next morning and saw his naked sister asleep in his bed, he knew the events of the previous night hadn't been a fever dream.

Now, too, Aegon had to think twice if the soft body in his arms was really there or just a trick of his drunken mind.

"Are you real?" he whispered, pulling away from her lips and looking at her face.

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Y/N replied just as softly.

Aegon smiled involuntarily and hurriedly disappeared between her thighs.

At dinner, not only Aegon's chair was empty. The chair next to his, Y/N's, was also vacant.

Aemond glanced sideways at his sister, who tried to hide her smile behind her hair. Otto looked at her as well, then at her mother.

"Helaena?" Alicent spoke, looking at the blushing face of her daughter. "Is something wrong?"

"Aegon is feeling much better," she said. The young princess knew this first because the garden she particularly liked was just below her brother's chambers, and the windows, this time, were wide open.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #hotd one shot

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wildsaltair · 6 months ago

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BABE

Gladiator

#that’s what he is #my husband my lover my boyfriend my beloved my angel my sweetheart #he’s everything good and dear to me #love the way the light hits his face here 💕#that golden light limning his features #and that light brown tunic BNNHGHAJAHAGAHH #one of my favorite looks for him #really shows off those arms and shoulders #and everything else #he looks so POWERFUL #like he could hoist me up and throw me against the wall #i need that honestly #we can go rough or we can go soft #both is good let’s do both #as often as possible #maximus i LOVE YOU #come to my arms beloved man #gladiator

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freakspectors · 7 months ago

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— ❝ HIT DIFFERENT .❞

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ CONSPECTUS ; your beloved atsumu wants to try something new.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ TAGS ; smut , fem!reader , pwp , full nelson , ‘tsumie’s filthy mouth , like seriously he cannot sthu , creampie , breeding if you squint , praise , mirror sex , lotsa cum dude idk what to tell ya , implied cunnilingus/cum eating + overstim , etc !

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ SLATER’S MEMORANDUM ; my haikyuu hyperfix returns in full swing . were SO back … and so am i !! had to write my glorious king atsumu for a self indulgent return fic heehee ..

wc ; 1.2k

“Feels good, don’t it, baby?”

A soft, mocking chuckle sounds from the large man behind you, gazing into your eyes glossy from overstimulation through the floor length mirror before the both of you. Broken cries of Atsumu’s name fall from your lips like a mantra, watching as his fat cock descends into your compact, wet folds in the position he pleaded to put you in upon returning home from another grueling day of practice. Strong, muscular arms force you bounce on his shaft, the noise of your ass ricocheting off his pelvis wadding the otherwise empty bedroom. You mewl in response to the faux blonde’s words, to which he hums in content.

“ Look at that, babe. See me fillin’ ya nice n’ well, dont’cha?” he snickered, peeking from behind your shoulder to examine his slick-coated shaft vanish into the confines of your vagina with every thrust in tandem with his ministrations with a long whistle, “God, I gotta fuck ya like this more often, sweets. Yer drippin’ all over me; all pretty n’ soaked for this dick. ‘s okay, hun. ‘m gonna give it to ya just like ya want me to.”

Wanton moans emit from your throat, drenched walls fluttering around Atsumu’s shaft from the obscenity of his words. The absentminded gesture earned a deep, whorish groan of your name from the man behind you, subsequently raising you farther up his shaft only to slam you down and stuff your battered cunt full, knocking the air straight out of your lungs.

“‘Tsumie, ‘s too much,” you whimper out, gaze fixated on the semi-prominent bulge in your abdomen, “don’ think I can’t take much more..”

“‘Course ya can. Trained this pussy jus’ for the occasion— Damn, yer cunt grips me so fuckin’ nicely…” he chokes out, a sloven moan following his filthy words from a particularly tight squeeze of your velvety walls, “‘m not goin’ nowhere, baby. Dick’s all yours, so loosen up f’me, ‘kay?”

The synthetic blonde’s arm loosens its hold underneath your legs to bring a thick, calloused digit to your clit, kneading gentle figure eights on the sensitive bud of flesh in an attempt to diminish your tense figure further. You toss your head back onto the setter’s large, toned chest, shakily exhaling as your umpteeth orgasm formulates in the pits of your abdomen. Staring at him through the fine glass of the full body mirror, you mindlessly babble out praise and pleas. “‘Tsum-‘Tsum, wanna cum s’bad— lemme cum, honey, pretty please?”

“Fuck, yer gonna make me milk this pussy dry, sweetheart,” Atsumu mumbles, bringing his hand back behind your head and hoisting your leg up before resuming to jounce you on his throbbing erection. The setter’s noisy, whorish moans impossibly increase in volume once he’s finally able to slip inside of you with ease, his pace accelerating to chase his upcoming high, “but that’s fine. Don’t even worry ‘bout it, babe. ‘Tsumu’s gonna make this tight, sloppy lil’ cunt nice n’ creamy by the end of the night, yeah? Yeah; she’s droolin’ all over me just thinkin’ ‘bout it. Yer so greedy for me, baby. So greedy for this cock.”

“‘Tsumu,” you cry out, mind reeling with pleasure due to the sudden change of the artificial blonde’s pace. Nonsensical babbles stumble out of your mouth like a ridiculous tongue twister, each whimper punctuated with a wet squelch sourced from where your bodies connect. Atsumu chokes on a guttural moan due to the pleasurable squeeze, hips stuttering as his haste induced pace gradually falters.

“I know, baby, I know. Tell me all ‘bout how ‘m demolishing that pretty cunt—Fuck, ‘s too good, sweetie, gonna cum all up in this mess of a pussy. Bet ya’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?” the faux blonde rambled, gratuitously fucking himsef into your sopping wet core and chasing after his own high. “‘s that what ya want, baby? Want ‘Tsum-‘Tsum to cum deep in yer guts? Knock ya up and make ya a mommy?”

“Please, ‘Tsumu, need your cum, wanna keep it all inside,” you sputter, eyes darting to the back of your skull once the knot in your stomach finally snaps and spills warm, sticky semen over Atsumu’s shaft, coating him in your essence for the nth time that evening. The blonde’s eyes light up with glee at the slim sight of a milky white mess seeping from your stretched-out cunt. A giddy giggle, similar to an overjoyed young boy, sounds from the man behind you prior to another of his seemingly endless rambles.

“There ya go, sweetie. That’s my good lil’ girl,” Atsumu praises, thrusts growing sloven by the second, “ride it out. Ride it right the fuck out, baby — ‘m so close, hun. Gotta cum all up in this pussy, babe, need it so fuckin’ badly… Gonna take every last drop like a good girl, ain’t ya? ‘Course ya will, ‘cause no one will ever fuck this sloppy cunt like I do. I fuck ya so good y’can’t even cum by yerself no more, don’t I, honey? Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Tepid, gooey semen shoots inside of your core as Atsumu bottoms out, keeping you down and spectating the mixture of semen and slick seep and spurt down his cock with stars in his eyes. He’s always been absurdly fascinated with climaxing inside of you; yet something different — something primal lay within the bleach blonde’s spirit upon pipping you full in such a salacious manner. He wanted more of you. He craved more of you.

“Atta girl,” Atsumu cooed, delicately lowering your legs from his firm hold and planting soft kisses along the back of your neck, soon trailing them down your shoulder with a lazy smile. “ya always take me s’well. Yer too good to me, sweets.”

Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, raising you off the setter’s shaft and comfortably lying you down against your shared bed. Atsumu’s lips wander over your bare form, kissing over each nook and cranny he could possibly reach. Just for a moment, you feel a sense of tranquility — the sweet, comforting sensation of Atsumu’s body against your own enveloping you into a peaceful state of rest… At least that’s what you assumed would happen.

A gentle kiss presses against your swollen clit, earning the professional setter a hushed, airy whine. Atsumu idly traces circles on your hips to soothe you, eyes gazing into your own with admiration. Through your daze, you could’ve sworn there were hearts swimming in his amber irises. He couldn’t get enough of you; and quite frankly, Atsumu wasn’t sure if there was a point where he could.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. I know it’s too much for ya,” he mumbles into your core, lapping up the mess he created in tiny, merciful kitten licks, “but my ma raised me to clean up all of my messes.”

@ FREAKSPECTORS 2024 . don’t reupload , translate , or steal any of my works . reblogs are appreciated !

#— ᡣ𐭩 FREAKSPECTORS WORKS .#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #atsumu miya smut #atsumu x reader #haikyu #haikyu smut

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lh44girl · 3 months ago

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: A Winter Night with Lewis

The winter wrapped your little chalet in a blanket of snow, the soft glow of moonlight pouring through the curtains. You were snuggled into bed, wrapped in your favorite cozy flannel pajamas and clutching your plushy bunny like a child guarding their treasure. Beside you, Lewis sprawled under the thick duvet, as bare as the day he was born, grinning at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Y’know,” he began, his deep voice low and teasing, “sleeping in all that… stuff… isn’t exactly how people stayed warm back in the day.”

You rolled your eyes, burrowing deeper into the covers. “Back in the day, people didn’t have central heating or plushy bunnies. Your argument is invalid.”

He chuckled, scooting closer, the warmth of his body seeping into your layers of fabric. “I’m just saying, you’d be much warmer like me. No barriers between us and all that.” You always felt a little shy knowing well his naked under the covers playing footies with you.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, hugging your bunny tighter. “But I’m fine, thanks. You do your thing; I’ll do mine.”He has a way of creeping into you tickling you.

But Lewis wasn’t one to give up. As the night wore on, you felt his fingers playfully tug at the hem of your pajama top. “Just this,” he whispered. “You don’t need it. I promise you’ll be warmer.”

You sighed, half-annoyed but mostly amused, and let him lift it off. Before long, the pants followed, his hands gentle yet determined. “See? Isn’t that better?” Your bare bodies stuck to each other soft and warming up. He was soft as velvet.

You couldn’t deny it. The press of his skin against yours, the way he wrapped his arms around you like a human furnace—it was better. But you weren’t about to admit defeat so easily.

“Fine,” you muttered, pretending to glare at him. “But Bunny stays.”

Lewis arched a brow, his fingers inching toward the plushy. “Do they, though?”

“Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, don’t you dare.”

He laughed, pulling you—and the bunny—closer. “Alright, alright. Bunny can stay. For now.”

And as he buried his face in your neck, you couldn’t help but smile, the cozy warmth of love and winter wrapping you both in its embrace.

Over time, the habit of sleeping in the nude became your special thing, but only with Lewis. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it alone, and certainly not when his family visited. But on those nights when it was just the two of you, his bare warmth against yours felt like home.

Lewis was cheekily thrilled with this arrangement. “See? Told you it’s better my way,” he’d whisper with a smirk, pulling you closer.

Sometimes, during the harsh winter night, even with the all this, Lewis suggests a different way to worm you up, he leveled up his game. “Lewis what are you doing?!!”you felt his hard cock near your soft pussy lips. He just grinned”trust me,you’ll warm up” he hoisted your leg on top of his hip anchoring himself from behind you,entering your soft delicate pussy slow, making sure you were comfortable, holding your hip so tight , and just start moving slow,extremely slow, your body numb..he cocked warm you from the inside out, his free hand around you slip to your clit in circular motion, making moan and melt into him. “You warm me amor, love it when you melt into me, good girl .. let it out ..aaah”the only sound you could bring out even overwhelmed by the pure sensation of slow pleasure & heat just a simple “Mhmm..yes..AAAH LEWIS !!”

These night, you both loved it the most,feeling as one& you slept the best sleep ever. A very therapeutic way to just distress and zone out of reality.

As the months passed, your beloved plushy bunny started making fewer appearances in bed,only present when both of you being tired & sleepy . It wasn’t intentional; it just naturally happened. Bunny was only left out of bed when things between you two were particularly lustrous euphoria & romantically playful & flirty . On those nights, you’d mischievously grab Bunny, cover its little eyes, and tuck it under the bed or a pillow as if shielding it from the scene about to unfold.

Lewis always found this utterly hilarious. “Babe, seriously? Poor Bunny. What’s he done to deserve exile?” he’d tease, chuckling as he leaned over to steal a kiss.

“It’s not exile,” you’d argue, feigning seriousness. “It’s protection. Bunny’s innocent.”

“Mm-hmm,” he’d murmur, pulling you against him. “I’m starting to think Bunny’s just jealous of me.”

You’d laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. Bunny and I go way back.”

“Well,” Lewis teased, grinning as his lips brushed your ear, “I think I’m doing a pretty good job replacing him.”

You couldn’t deny it. Bunny might always have a place in your heart, but in Lewis’s arms, you found a new kind of warmth, safety —one that was deeper, richer, and undeniably yours.

#lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh44 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lh44 fic #f1 blurb #f1 smut

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hoiststowline · 2 months ago

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some panels I had previously cropped for a Hoist appreciation post. but I am so in love with Hoist in this style, this is kinda like his generations fig and I am so here for it 🫶

#sul tf posts #transformers #maccadam #transformers idw #mtmte #transformers hoist #hoist #hoist my beloved

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ahsokatroi · 15 days ago

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My brain made me suffer and now I have to make all of you suffer with me.

Imagine 9-year-old Dick Grayson, newly orphaned and sitting in a group home while the courts take their time deciding whether Bruce would make an acceptable guardian. He goes to school and hears people call him “that orphan kid” and “circus freak.” He gets bullied and picked on, and most of the time he’s able to keep his temper limited to words.

The incident that gets him thrown in juvy happens at a birthday party. One of the older kids invited him (him!) to their party. He’s skeptical, but he’s lonely. He’s used to being surrounded by family and friends and animals and crowds that cheer. Now, the only positive relationship he has is with Bruce, and that got taken away by the foster system. So, he goes.

He has fun. He plays tag and tug-of-war and cornhole and duck-duck-goose with the other kids, and for once, he doesn’t feel so lonely. Then the piñata comes out. A few kids take half-hearted swings at it, and then it’s his turn. He giggles and smiles when the blindfold comes down over his eyes and the baton is handed to him. He listens carefully, sticking his tongue between his teeth, tracking the motion of the piñata. He raises the baton to swing—

—the baton is yanked out of his hands. Someone yells “get him!” Several pairs of hands roughly grab him. He’s not smiling anymore. He reaches for the blindfold to pull it off, but his arms are being held too tightly. He can’t see. They yank and push and grab and bruise his skin. A rope ends up around his waist. He tries to move, tries to escape, but there’s too many. It’s so loud, so many voices shouting.

The rope suddenly digs into his stomach and his feet leave the ground. The hands finally let go and he’s able to tear the blindfold off his face as he feels himself sway. He opens his eyes—briefly blinded by daylight—to see himself being hoisted into the air, and all the other kids laughing and hollering. The piñata lay on the ground, discarded.

He’ll later remember in perfect detail every face, every laugh, every pigment on the birthday cake, every color on the decorated box of candy. Most of all though, he’ll remember the leering chants of “circus freak!” as the rope digs painfully into his skin, and the baton as it gets passed around to kids who take turns swinging at his legs.

Never again will he recall feeling such a horrid combination of hurt, embarrassment, and cold blinding rage. He won’t fully remember what happens, but he will remember being pulled off of the birthday kid, his fists soaked in the blood from their broken nose, his eyes stinging with tears, his throat hoarse from screaming. He will remember being dragged into a police car in a daze. He will remember the ride to the group home, then the ride to the detention center after his “guardian” flung her arms up, shooed away the officer, and stomped back inside. He will remember being booked. He will remember the barred door sliding shut as he sits on the cot, pulls his knees to his bruised chest, and sobs.

Bruce of course doesn’t believe it was simply a violent outburst, no matter what the warden says. This is the first time the public has seen their beloved Brucie Wayne genuinely angry.

When Dick is finally home, Bruce is able to ask him about it without people listening in on tapped phones. He’s able to gently grasp his shoulder and softly ask what happened. Dick tries, oh god he tries to hold himself together, to pretend it was nothing. But he’s been effectively isolated for months, and his resolve breaks the moment he gets that physical reminder that he’s not alone anymore, and he breaks down. He can’t find it in him to care that his tears are staining Bruce’s tux. Bruce couldn’t care less about the tux. He wraps his arms around the sobbing boy, stroking his hair and rocking slightly.

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman angst #dick grayson needs a hug

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hyuniemyunie · 1 month ago

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In Stronger Arms

itto, wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh and childe x gn!reader

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): fluff, established relationship, you burst into the room. and pick your man up. simple. I CAN DO LIKE..MOST GENSHIN MEN. NOT FROM NATLAN. I DONT LIKE NATLAN. i love itto tho my beautiful himbo. kaveh too my persian queen

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Claimed by Love

The headquarters of the Arataki Gang was always loud, but today, it was especially chaotic. Raucous laughter echoed through the wooden walls, the scent of grilled food and mischief thick in the air. The gang was in the middle of some absurd game—it looked like a mix of sumo wrestling, a beetle battle, and an eating contest all at once.

And, at the center of it all, was Arataki Itto.

Your beloved himbo of an oni was hyping up the crowd, his wild silver hair a mess from all the excitement, crimson eyes gleaming like a kid who’d just been promised unlimited candy. His jacket was barely hanging onto his shoulders—probably the victim of his overenthusiastic movements—and his laugh was loud enough to shake the walls.

You had been gone for a few days on a commission outside Inazuma City, and while it wasn’t that long, it was long enough for you to crave the warmth of your giant, affectionate idiot. Sure, you had exchanged letters and the occasional, dramatic "I miss you soooo much, babycakes!!" sent via some poor, exhausted Tenryou Commission member forced to deliver Itto's messages. But nothing could compare to actually being with him.

So, the moment you arrived back in town, you didn’t waste a second. You didn’t stop by your house. You didn’t even drop off your travel bag. You went straight to the Arataki Gang’s hideout, marching in with one goal in mind.

Claiming your man.

The second you stepped inside, all eyes turned to you. Some of the gang members, like Shinobu, sighed in relief, knowing your arrival meant their leader might calm down. Others were too engrossed in whatever dumb game they had going on to pay much attention.

Itto, however?

The moment he spotted you, his ears perked up, his grin widening into something radiant. "Babe! Baby! Sugar plum! My little oni snack! You're back!" He moved to stand up, probably intending to run toward you, but before he could even take a step—

You marched forward, grabbed him by the waist, and effortlessly lifted the massive oni right off the ground.

The entire room froze.

The gang collectively gasped as their towering leader—this massive slab of muscle, nearly twice your size—was hoisted into the air like he weighed nothing. Someone knocked over a plate of dango. Someone else dropped their chopsticks. Even Shinobu, the ever-composed girl, blinked in stunned silence.

Meanwhile, Itto let out the most delighted laugh, wrapping his arms around your shoulders like a giant koala. "Whoa-ho-ho! That’s my baby! So strong! So cool! Heh, didn’t know you missed me this much!"

Without breaking stride, you turned to the dumbfounded gang members and, in the most nonchalant tone imaginable, declared, "Sorry, guys. Cuddle time. I missed my man."

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you carried their hulking leader right out the door.

You could hear the gang erupt into chaos behind you.

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"

"Did you SEE the way they just picked him up?!"

"Boss looked so happy though…"

"Man… I wanna be carried like that…"

"SHOULD WE STOP THEM?!—"

"…Nah, they look like they need this."

You ignored the chatter as you carried Itto all the way to his personal room—a cozy, slightly messy space that smelled like him (a mix of pine, fresh air, and something sweet, like dango). You kicked the door shut behind you and finally—finally—plopped down onto the futon, keeping Itto securely wrapped in your arms.

He instantly melted against you, resting his full weight on you with zero shame, his horns bumping against your head as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

"Mmm… best welcome home ever," he murmured, voice thick with affection. His big hands traced absentminded circles against your back, and he sighed contentedly. "You’re so warm… I missed you so much, babe. You got no idea how hard it was without you."

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Oh, I know exactly how hard it was. You sent me, like, ten letters a day."

"Yeah, but—but—letters ain’t the same!" He pouted, puffing out his cheeks before pressing a smothering kiss to your jaw. "I need my cuddle privileges! I need my sweet little dango dumpling! my snuggle bug supreme! my one and oni!"

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was practically bursting with warmth. He was so ridiculous. So dramatic. So completely and utterly Itto.

And you wouldn’t have him any other way.

"Well," you murmured, tightening your arms around him, "lucky for you, I also need my cuddle privileges." You ran a hand through his messy silver hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

Itto practically purred, pressing closer, his body heat sinking into you. "Really? Like, really really?"

"Like really really really."

He let out a giddy chuckle, holding you even tighter—if that was possible. "Guess I should get kidnapped more often, huh?"

You snorted. "Oh, I am kidnapping you regularly now. This is your life."

"Oh nooo," he drawled dramatically, despite looking like the happiest oni in the world. "Guess I just gotta live like this… trapped in the best cuddles ever… sigh, what a tragedy…"

You flicked his forehead playfully. "Stop acting like you’re suffering."

"Never!" he declared before kissing you square on the lips, all teeth and joy.

And just like that, the world outside didn’t matter. Not the chaos of the gang, not the commissions, not the responsibilities. Right now, it was just you and your ridiculous, oversized oni, tangled together in warmth and love.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tidal Claim

The Fortress of Meropide was as busy as ever, though the bustle here was a quiet, controlled one. Prisoners moved under the watchful eye of guards, machinery hummed in the distance, and the scent of metal, salt, and damp stone filled the air.

At the center of it all, overseeing some kind of legal review, stood Neuvillette.

Dressed in his pristine coat, posture regal yet relaxed, he exuded authority in a way that made people naturally lower their voices in his presence. He was listening intently as Wriothesley spoke, his cool gaze focused, hands resting behind his back.

And then the door slammed open.

A few guards instinctively reached for their weapons, but they hesitated upon recognizing the figure striding in. They exchanged nervous glances, unsure if they should intervene, but Neuvillette himself gave no such indication.

Instead, his expression softened—so subtly that most would miss it.

The way his eyes lingered on you, the way his shoulders eased just slightly—it was imperceptible to most, but you knew better.

Still, you wasted no time on pleasantries. You marched straight across the room, past baffled onlookers, and, without hesitation, wrapped your arms around him.

And lifted him.

The entire room stilled.

The silence was so absolute that the distant sound of water dripping into the underground canals echoed like a thunderclap.

The Iudex—Fontaine’s highest authority, the very person who embodied justice—was being picked up like a damsel in some grand romantic gesture.

Wriothesley had to physically stop himself from laughing, pressing a fist to his mouth as a muffled sound escaped. Clorinde, who had just entered the room, visibly hesitated between drawing her weapon and pretending this wasn’t happening. A few guards looked seconds away from fainting.

But Neuvillette?

Neuvillette simply exhaled through his nose—a soft, barely audible sound of amusement. His long hair spilled over your shoulder, cascading like a silken waterfall as he allowed himself to be held.

"You’ve returned," he murmured, voice steady, but there was something fond underneath.

You turned to the utterly bewildered onlookers and, without a single ounce of shame, announced, "Sorry, everyone. Urgent business. I’m stealing him for a while."

Then, with effortless strength, you carried him straight out the door.

The stunned silence behind you lasted for a full five seconds before the murmuring exploded.

"Did—did they just take Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"Carried him? Like a bride?"

"Wriothesley, aren’t you going to stop them?!"

"Why would I? That was the best thing I’ve seen all week."

You ignored them all, your focus solely on the man in your arms.

Despite his usual composed nature, you could feel the way his fingers lightly curled against your shoulder, the way his body relaxed into yours. He was never one to express his emotions outwardly, but he did have ways of showing them—small, subtle gestures meant only for those who knew where to look.

The moment you reached his private quarters, you nudged the door open with your foot and stepped inside, finally setting him down onto the plush chaise lounge near the window.

And yet, even as his feet touched the floor, he made no move to leave your embrace.

Instead, his hands rested lightly against your waist, a quiet tether keeping you close. His gaze, those ethereal eyes, studied you with the patience of a man who had spent centuries watching the tides.

"You must have been quite restless in my absence," he finally murmured.

"You have been working yourself into the ground again," you countered, fingers moving to brush a few stray strands of silver from his face. "And you know how I get when I miss you."

A faint hum of acknowledgment left his lips. "Yes. You make rather dramatic entrances."

"And yet, you let me carry you off in front of half of Fontaine."

His fingers tightened—just barely—against the fabric of your clothing. A rare, fleeting smirk touched his lips. "I find it… difficult to deny you."

That was as close to an open confession as you were going to get, and Archons, you weren’t going to waste the opportunity.

Leaning down, you pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead, letting your lips linger against the cool skin. The scent of freshwater clung to him, crisp and untainted, like the mist that clung to Fontaine’s waterfalls.

Neuvillette closed his eyes, exhaling as if releasing some unseen weight from his shoulders.

For all his strength, for all his control over the very rain itself, he was… lonely. You knew this. You knew how he often stood atop the highest points in the city during storms, watching over the people yet never truly among them.

And so, you held him a little tighter.

"You know," you murmured against his skin, "I do intend to steal you like this more often."

His eyes opened, a single silver brow arching in mild amusement. "Is that so?"

"Oh, absolutely. I might even start keeping you all to myself. How scandalous would that be?"

A slow, rare chuckle escaped him—a deep, smooth sound that made your chest warm.

"I suspect Fontaine would demand its Iudex back," he mused. "But… perhaps I would not mind being claimed by you for a time."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, Neuvillette would never openly say something as simple as I missed you or I love you. But you had learned how to read the currents beneath his words, and this?

This was as clear as the still waters before a storm.

Your arms tightened around him once more before you finally, finally sank down onto the lounge beside him, keeping him pressed close.

Neuvillette let himself relax against you, his head resting lightly against your shoulder. His long hair spilled over both of you like moonlight, his presence cool yet soothing, like the calm before rain.

You sighed, running gentle fingers through his hair. "You’re so dramatic, you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Mm. All broody, all serious… but then you let me pick you up like some helpless maiden."

Neuvillette made a small sound—something caught between a sigh and quiet amusement. "I let you because you would not be deterred otherwise."

"Exactly. You’re learning."

Silence settled between you, but it was a comfortable one. Outside, the distant sound of water lapping against the stone walls filled the air. The world could wait. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled together in quiet understanding.

And when Neuvillette shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-there kiss against your temple, you smiled, pressing one right back against his jaw.

It seemed the storm had finally found its harbor.

Swept Off His Feet

Kaveh was in the middle of yet another passionate rant when you entered the room.

The House of Daena was dimly lit, the soft glow of hanging lanterns casting warm light over the bookshelves. Scrolls, blueprints, and reference materials were scattered across the table where Kaveh sat, his blonde hair slightly disheveled, his hands moving wildly as he argued with—

No one.

Well, technically he was talking to Alhaitham, but his ever-exasperating roommate had tuned him out at least ten minutes ago, flipping through a book without so much as a glance in Kaveh’s direction. That, of course, only made Kaveh talk more, his hands gesturing dramatically as he vented about some ridiculous architectural injustice or another.

And then you walked in.

The moment Kaveh spotted you, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes lit up, his hands dropped mid-gesture, and for a split second, his mouth opened and closed as if forgetting what he was saying.

Alhaitham, sensing his chance to escape, immediately shut his book, stood, and muttered something about finally, a distraction, before disappearing between the shelves.

Kaveh barely noticed.

He was already pushing himself up from his chair, a delighted grin forming. "Oh! You’re back! I didn’t know you’d be here so soon, I—"

Whatever he was about to say next was lost to the air.

Because in one smooth motion, you stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him—

And lifted him clear off the ground.

The entire library fell silent.

A scholar on the upper level dropped their pen. A passing student halted mid-step, nearly tripping over their own feet. Even the ever-stoic librarian raised an eyebrow.

Kaveh, meanwhile, made a very undignified squawk.

"Wh—what—?!" His arms instinctively flailed before wrapping around your shoulders in sheer survival instinct. "Wha—what do you think you’re doing?!"

You adjusted your grip, holding him effortlessly against you. "Hmm, well..I missed you."

And, as if you hadn’t just lifted one of Sumeru’s most dramatic architects in front of an entire scholarly audience, you simply turned and walked right out the door with him in tow.

Kaveh, despite all his dramatic protests, had clung to you like a lifeline the moment his feet left the ground. His entire body was tense, his hands gripping your shoulders, his face practically buried in your neck.

"I—I can walk, you know!" he stammered, voice high with flustered indignation. "This—this is highly improper! Highly—"

"You don’t seem to be fighting me that hard."

His mouth opened—then closed. Then opened again. Then—

"...That’s not the point!"

You laughed, squeezing him just a little before finally stepping into your shared living space. Kicking the door shut behind you, you carried him straight to the lounge, where you finally, finally sat down—keeping him securely in your lap.

Kaveh immediately buried his face in his hands, groaning. "I’ll never live this down," he mumbled. "I’ll never be able to step foot in the House of Daena again without someone mentioning this."

You smoothed a hand through his golden hair, reveling in how soft it was beneath your fingers. "You say that like I won’t do it again."

His fingers parted just enough for one red eye to peek through, glaring at you half-heartedly. "You would," he accused.

"Of course I would. Look at you." You poked his cheek. "All cute and flustered."

Kaveh made a strangled noise, dropping his hands and dramatically flopping against your chest. "I can’t believe you," he muttered.

"You love me," you reminded him.

"...I do," he admitted begrudgingly, though his arms remained wrapped around you, refusing to move.

Silence stretched between you, comfortable and warm. You ran your fingers through his hair again, and he sighed, practically melting against you.

"You really did miss me," he murmured after a moment, voice softer now.

"Obviously." You kissed the top of his head. "And you missed me too."

Kaveh let out a long sigh, nuzzling closer. "...Fine. Maybe I did." His fingers curled lightly against your shirt. "I hate it when you’re gone for too long. Feels like something’s missing."

Your heart swelled.

"I’m here now," you murmured.

Kaveh huffed, but his hold on you tightened. "...Good."

And just like that, he let himself sink into your arms, the stress of the day fading away.

Perhaps being swept off his feet wasn’t so bad after all.

Weightless

The Fortress of Meropide ran like a well-oiled machine, its underground halls bustling with the usual controlled chaos. Workers moved crates of supplies, guards patrolled the walkways, and prisoners shuffled through their daily routines.

And right at the center of it all, Wriothesley stood in his office, arms crossed as he listened to one of his subordinates give a report. His expression was calm, composed—regal, even. If anyone were to walk in, they would think he was the very picture of control.

What they wouldn’t see was the exhaustion he was trying to hide.

He had been at this for hours, barely pausing to sit, let alone take a proper break. His knuckles were faintly bruised from earlier training, his coat was hanging loosely off his shoulders, and despite the commanding presence he still exuded, you could tell he needed a moment of peace.

So you decided to give him one.

By force.

The doors to his office swung open with little ceremony, making the guard mid-report flinch. Wriothesley, however, didn’t startle—he simply looked up, his tired eyes softening the moment he saw you.

You didn’t greet him. Didn’t offer a single explanation.

You just walked right up to him, reached out—

And lifted him.

Wriothesley barely had time to react before his feet left the ground. His coat, already loose, slipped off entirely, falling into an undignified heap on the floor. His arms instinctively went around your shoulders, more out of shock than anything else.

The guard who had been giving the report froze mid-sentence, mouth hanging open. The clerks working in the back stopped writing, staring in disbelief. Even Sigewinne, who had just peeked in to deliver some documents, let out a delighted giggle.

But you?

You didn’t care about any of them.

“Sorry, everyone,” you announced casually, adjusting your grip on the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide as if he weighed nothing. “I'm kidnapping him.”

And with that, you turned and strode out of the room, carrying Fontaine’s most dangerous fighter like he was a newlywed bride.

The silence left in your wake was deafening.

—

Wriothesley didn’t say anything for a while. He just let himself be carried, his head resting against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

You made your way through the fortress with ease, completely unfazed by the shocked stares of guards and workers alike. Some prisoners muttered amongst themselves, a few letting out whistles or outright gasps.

“Hey, Wriothesley!” one of them called. “Didn’t know you could get carried off like that!”

“Heh, ‘bout time someone knocked him down a peg,” another chuckled.

Someone else asked if this was some kind of training method.

Wriothesley ignored all of them, his grip on you tightening slightly.

Finally, once you reached his quarters, he sighed and let out a quiet chuckle. “You really have no shame, do you?”

You nudged the door open with your foot. “Nope.”

“I had a meeting.”

“They’ll survive.”

“You carried me.”

“Sure did.” You stepped inside and finally set him down onto the couch—though you didn’t go far, immediately climbing in after him, effectively caging him in with your presence.

He exhaled, shaking his head. But instead of moving away, he reached for you, tugging you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. His arms wrapped around your waist, his grip firm, unyielding.

“…Thanks,” he murmured against your skin.

You hummed, resting your chin atop his head. “You work too much.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you don’t take breaks.”

He let out a soft chuckle, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your back. “If I knew this was your way of making me rest, I would’ve started slacking off ages ago.”

“You say that, but we both know you’d rather collapse than admit you’re tired.”

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he let himself relax against you, the tension in his body melting away little by little. His heartbeat was steady beneath your touch, the warmth of his body grounding, soothing.

“…You really missed me that much, huh?” he finally asked, his voice quieter now, softer.

You didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, you ran a hand through his hair, letting your fingers rake through the dark strands, feeling the way he sighed under your touch.

“…Yeah,” you admitted. “I did.”

He hummed, pleased, his arms tightening around you. “…Then I guess I’ll let it slide this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, you’re letting me? That’s cute.”

“I’m being generous.”

“Mmhm. Sure.”

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, before he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am pretty lucky, huh?”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t let go, didn’t pull away. He just sighed and buried his face in your shoulder, letting himself rest.

And really, that was all you wanted.

—

The Fortress of Meropide would still be there when he returned. But for now, the Duke of the Fortress was off duty.

Because you said so.

Tideswept

It was chaos in the Fatui headquarters.

Recruits scrambled through the halls, shouts echoing from every direction as agents rushed to deliver reports, fulfill missions, and, most importantly, stay out of Childe’s way.

Because their beloved Harbinger, No. 11 of the Fatui—Tartaglia—was pissed.

He stood in the middle of a meeting room, fists clenched, his coat slightly askew, glaring daggers at the unfortunate squad captain before him.

“Gone?!” His voice was sharp, slicing through the tense air like a blade. “What do you mean my men are gone?”

The captain flinched. “Sir, I—I meant that they were ambushed and—”

Childe turned sharply, pacing toward the table with a snarl of frustration. His mind was already calculating, shifting gears, deciding the next move—

Until the doors slammed open.

The entire room froze.

And then, before anyone could react, before Childe himself could react, you stepped forward—

And promptly threw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The room went silent.

A recruit choked on air. A captain nearly dropped their report. One unfortunate soldier let out a startled squeak before slapping a hand over their mouth.

Childe, for his part, had a full second of absolute lag before his brain caught up with what had just happened.

And then—

“WHAT—?!”

The recruits watched in absolute horror as their Harbinger—their Commander—flailed in your grasp like a caught fish.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Childe yelped, his voice slightly muffled as he twisted in your hold. His hands scrambled against your back, his coat hanging limply as if it had also given up.

You adjusted your grip, patting his thigh like one would a particularly misbehaving puppy. “Calm your ass down”

And then you walked out.

With Tartaglia.

Over your shoulder.

Like he weighed nothing.

The stunned silence you left behind was something else.

—

Childe continued flailing all the way down the halls.

“Okay, okay—I get it! Ha-ha, you’re strong! You can put me down now!” He kicked his legs, which you immediately tightened your grip on to keep still.

“Nope.”

“I can walk!”

“Too bad.”

“You’re embarrassing me in front of my subordinates!”

“Good.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?!”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Childe groaned, dramatically letting his head fall against your back. “You do know I’m supposed to be terrifying, right?”

“You?” You patted his ass with exaggerated gentleness. “Terrifying? Aw, you’re adorable.”

He huffed—actually huffed, like a spoiled child denied extra dessert. “I am terrifying! I could kill someone with my bare hands!”

“You could also kill someone with cuteness. I think both are equally deadly.”

“…You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

“…Damn it.”

—

By the time you reached your shared home, Childe had stopped struggling.

You kicked the door open, made your way to the couch, and ungracefully plopped him down.

He landed with a soft “oof,” immediately sitting up and rubbing his forehead.

“Okay, seriously,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair. “What was that?”

You flopped down beside him, draping yourself over his lap. “A rescue mission.”

Childe blinked. “A what?”

You poked his chest. “I could hear you yelling from halfway across headquarters. You were stressing yourself out again, weren’t you?”

Childe opened his mouth to argue—paused—then let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. “…Maybe.”

You poked him again. “You definitely were.”

“Fine,” he muttered, grabbing your hand before you could poke him a third time. His thumb brushed against your knuckles, absentmindedly tracing over your fingers. “…Things have been a mess lately. More than usual.”

“I know.” You softened, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “You push yourself too hard.”

“It’s my job,” he murmured, voice quiet now, lacking its usual bravado.

“It’s also your job to rest.”

Childe exhaled, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then—

“…You really missed me that much, huh?” His voice held the slightest teasing lilt, but there was something genuine beneath it, something warm.

You nudged your nose against his neck. “Of course I did.”

“…Hmph.” His free hand wrapped around your back, pulling you closer, tucking you against him as if shielding you from the world. “…I missed you too.”

You smiled. “Knew it.”

“Shut up.”

But he didn’t let go.

And neither did you.

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tojisun · 2 months ago

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dad cat johnny my beloved (re prev reblog). oh how she’ll be so spoiled and loved, all loud and delighted wi-wi-wi-wi meows when he’s finally home, rubbing her fluffy body along his shin and jumping to his lap the moment he drops down to sit.

johnny would hoist her on one beefy arm, cradling her like one would a baby, while he’s going through his day – making coffee, watering his indoor plants, vacuuming the carpets. she’s so clingy and tactile, and johnny isn’t any better.

bet he’d fall asleep so soundly even when her whole body is curled on top of his face, almost strangling him with her fluffy fur.

he loves his darling girl so much that he’d hire a catsitter, and if his sweetie pie gets attached to this bird that’s playing house in his home, well johnny’s ought to give her a mom. all for his spoiled princess, yes?

#BIG BEEFY MEN AND TINY BEAUTIFUL CATS - I WILL BE FOUND FANTASIZING EVERY TIME #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #x reader #suns

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shirefantasies · 10 months ago

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The Hobbit Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

I just love fluff ok and, say it with me, I did this for LoTR 😁 (you can think of the older characters’ as being set when you guys are younger, not during book/film events 😊)

Warnings: conception mentions, some implications of infertility, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms, very long post 😂

Balin

✧ Five years. For five years you had tried. Six you and Balin had been married, happily as anything, but children never came. Your struggles had broken you down, leading you to try all the remedies well-meaning elders and healers alike recommended. Eat more good, strong foods, less of that greasy stuff. Drink this tea, it’s great for women! It’s only a bunch of tiny needles- the pain of birth will be worse anyway. Don’t be so active, let yourself relax for Mahal’s sake, girl! Remedy after remedy, you put your body through it all and put your hands up and prayed. Weeks passed and you had taken ill, attending the healers’ just to get something to ease your nausea, and that was when the questions began. Illness forgotten, you wandered in a grinning daze out of that hall and straight into your husband’s arms. When he chuckled and asked what this was all about, all you could do was snuggle into his chest deeper and whisper “It’s finally happened.”

✧ Such years leant of course to Balin being a bit extra protective of you. You often chastised him, good-naturedly of course, that he hovered so over you, and every time he would simply kiss you and say "That's right".

✧ It brought you both to tears when you began showing, when your condition had persisted long enough to be real, to last beyond the known months of danger. Forehead pressed against yours, your husband held you tightly and warmly for some amount of minutes you did not know, but minded not at all. Balin's words of love and reassurance were as music to your ears.

✧ Hormones confound you some days, pulling you from peace to ruin in mere moments, but Balin is always there with warm arms and wise words, reminding you that whatever you may think, you will never be alone.

✧ The one time during your entire pregnancy that you saw Balin cry was the day you brought home a tiny red coat that looked just like his and showed it to him with pride glowing in your eyes.

✧ He is so calm during all the worst sides of your condition, standing right by you through the good, the bad, and the ugly and dusting and cleaning you off each and every time. "We fought hard for this," he reminds you, "And I'll keep fighting with you every step of the way."

Dwalin

✧ You had wanted children all your life, certainly, and you'd seen Dwalin around them a few times, but what would he say? Your husband was a renowned warrior, hardened in the face of blood and steel and tolerant of no foolishness. But still he went soft as clay when his beloved wife fell into his arms. Thus that night you softened him up but good with all the great food and affection you could muster, so much that you had him remarking what a wonderful home he'd been blessed with. "And would you be willing to share it?" At that, your husband rose from his chair, hands tensing at his sides. "You don't mean-" "I do," you nodded. Without warning, you were swept up into Dwalin's arms, hoisted gently into the air with a giggle. "Just when I thought Mahal couldn't bless me any more! My beautiful wife, with child."

✧ Cue the two of you bickering back and forth like, well, a married couple, about who the child is going to look like. "I'll have 'em look just like you, thanks." "I for one relish in the thought of toting around a miniature Dwalin." "Come now," your husband teases back, running a hand over his shaven, tattooed head, "If they look like you they'll have better hair!"

✧ Dwalin has tiny wooden swords and axes made in time for your little arrivals, ensuring the axes match his to a tee.

✧ He sleeps flush against you now, head leaned against your growing belly and one hand firmly atop it like a lovely little line of defense.

✧ You have him absolutely wrapped around your finger, even more so now. Bat your eyelashes at him and make any request and he melts like butter. You’ll never want long for anything you crave!

✧ Admittedly he knows very little of a woman’s workings, but the moment he hears all your explanations he dubs you as great a warrior as he! “Beautiful as the stars and strong as the mountains to boot! That’s my girl.”

Thorin

✧ He has waited so long for this. So many years of this hanging pressure and yet when he has you by his side, all the feeling of necessity behind trying fades away. You two can simply enjoy life. So when you return to Thorin's side one day, eyes brimming with tears, all you say to him is "It's happened". And with that you see your king, your husband, collapse as if his whole body is sighing, pulling you into him like he needs you to breathe. One hand reaches up to hold the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

✧ Vows every day that he will protect you both, be the father and husband you deserve, taking your hands in his and then leaning down to address both his queen and your child.

✧ Thorin also assures you that despite what any members of the court say, your new addition will be equally loved and equally worthy of the throne whether you welcome a son or a daughter. "All I wish is a healthy child with their mother's heart." "And their father's good looks," you tease in response, pulling your husband in for a kiss.

✧ You begin stealing his clothes, stating that his tunics are so much more comfortable than your dresses with an innocent bat of your eyelashes that has Thorin relenting every single time, heart rent at the way they begin fitting you tighter.

✧ You see a different side of Thorin in this stage of your marriage, one you’ll never complain about, not when he softens so, gazes down upon you with such love as he hovers over you, kissing your lips, your neck, your belly.

✧ There is no denying that you both glow during this time, pride and joy illuminating Thorin’s features right alongside the radiance of your childbearing state. Everyone stops you to say what a beautiful couple you are and you cannot help the flush of heat that rises to your face as Thorin thanks them and guides you away from the crowd, a protective hand on the small of your back

Oin

✧ Predicts it before you even realize because you’re exhibiting all the telltale symptoms; annoyed as you may be by his insistence that you are with child, what do you know? Oin is right. Oin is, unfortunately, also quite smug about this. Once the initial triumph wears off, though, he’s shouting for joy and crushing you with a hug!

✧ The absolute dream husband to have when you're with child, for he has worked taking care of countless dwarrowdams in your condition. He knows what you need. He understands. And most importantly, he does not judge.

✧ In fact, you two get a kick out of poking fun at the other husbands who roll their eyes at their wives' demands or take shots at their cravings because, frankly, that could never be you. "He doesn't know her body needs more iron!" "I bet he moans and groans about grabbing her a pillow, too."

✧ Having married such a well-known dwarrow, you’ll have all manner of strangers approaching you with congratulations that you reluctantly just accept, correctly assuming they’re patients of Oin’s that he’s proudly blabbed to.

✧ He’s always asking you to guess if you’re having a boy or a girl, insisting that “‘tis the mother’s intuition, after all.”

✧ You insist on remaining on your feet as long as possible, and your husband does not protest, knowing that exercise is good for the baby. That doesn’t mean he won’t be right behind you to catch you if you fall or check on your precious little bump, though, of course.

Gloin

✧ Not so subtle in his so-called 'baby fever', your husband has been going on and on about how his child will be his little flame, the apple of his eye, his world. You have no fear, then, sharing the news, in fact you amuse yourself by dropping your state in conversation like the plainest fact. "I'm glad you've got those new blankets, dear, what with the baby coming in winter and all," you told Gloin, taking a sip of your tea. Deafening is the only word you can use to describe the roar of celebration he gives, wonderfully bone-crushing and teeth-rattling your embrace and kiss.

✧ Tackles you to bed almost every night the first week, covering your cheeks and belly alike with kisses.

✧ Spends that very same time period sharing with absolutely any soul who even remotely listens that he’s going to be a father!

✧ Gloin is very insistent upon your care, even taking it upon himself to make your meals by hand. Which, suffice it to say, is a bit disastrous the first few times but he emerges triumphant in the end and succeeds in filling you with all the hearty things your budding dwarrowling needs!

✧ Being married to a dwarf means you have a husband who absolutely adores the extra pounds you put on and has no qualms about showing you in and out of the bedroom! Even just stopping by the market he’ll be wrapped around you.

✧ Encourages the baby every time they kick, shouting out praise of their strength while you tell him to cool it, all those kicks are going to you!

Bifur

✧ A large part of him thought that he would never be able to experience fatherhood. Not since the injury, and that had happened at such a young age. You cut right through that fear, assured Bifur that he would be an amazing father regardless of if he did some things differently. And that he would soon see, for your family would be growing early the next year.

✧ In all honesty, you feel blessed to have a husband who signs, for your baby will likely be able to communicate early! When you tell Bifur this he breaks out into tears, for what an angel you are to see the beauty in him. Every side of him. He promises to do the same.

✧ And make good on that does he! You will never want for love for even on your illest days Bifur is right by your side, his caresses gentle and speaking volumes of adoration.

✧ Absolutely adores jumping into the bath with you! His excuse being he has to help you and may as well rinse his beard off, but you can see how eager he is to run his hands over your hair and see the way your body relaxes at his cleansing touch. He wants nothing more than to feel useful, needed, and you assure him you cannot do this without him.

✧ Again and again, in fact, on the days when he stands behind you, holding up your burden and cheering you with little jokes and flirtation in Khuzdul even as you are overcome with exhaustion.

✧ Proudly tells everyone who will listen that he’s got a little warrior in there whenever the baby kicks!

Bofur

✧ You hadn’t exactly been trying. You hadn’t exactly been not trying, either. The news comes to you through a haze, muffled by the great rush of other thoughts bombarding your mind and sending your heart beating, but at their heart comes the image of Bofur holding a little one and bouncing them upon his knee and your chest flutters and soars. Your visit is completed all in smiles, and upon returning him to your husband’s questioning about the flu you’ve gone in for, you tell him it likely will not go away until the end of the year. “The end of the year? Why ever that long? I’ve never heard of a flu like that, not even-” “‘tisn’t a flu, my darling,” you smirk at him, “it’s a baby.” “A- you’re- we’re gonna have a-” Bofur is all agape, stepping closer and hovering his hands over your middle like he doesn’t want to grip you in a way that breaks you. “That all right?” You ask, half-teasing, for he has recently confided in you his envy of Bombur’s family. “All right? Song of my heart, I could kiss you!” “Well, what’s stopping you?”

✧ If you thought Bofur was affectionate before, well Mahal be with you, for you haven't seen anything yet! He falls even more in love with your body knowing it's carrying his and your child, hands nearly always holding or roaming you. When you're out and about, your husband usually has a hand at the small of your back, supporting the weight you carry as you walk and running soothingly up and down. Kisses all over your belly in private.

✧ This lends to how quick your husband is to reassure you on days you don't feel so friendly with your body, those times when you'd like nothing more than to shatter the looking-glass. "All I see," Bofur tells you one day, a hand on each of your shoulders as you peer together, "Is the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my lucky eyes upon, and she's not got an easy job. If I were her, I'd be proud of myself. Proud of making a comfortable home for our little one. And if I was her husband, why, I'd take her as she is right here and now! Right nice for me I am her husband, eh?"

✧ “Imagine havin’ a little girl.” Lying side by side, you heard Bofur’s wistful tone and felt a small smile creep onto your lips. “I’ll do her hair up in braids and tie them with ribbons. She’ll have all the pretty things she wants, because I have mine right here,” he adds, turning over to caress your belly and pull your lips into his.

✧ Marrying a toymaker comes with distinct perks: your husband crafts the most magnificent little wheeled contraptions and carven animals for your new addition! He spends hours carving and glazing them, and sometimes you catch him having fallen asleep at his workbench when you struggle to stay in dreamland, covering him up with a spare blanket.

✧ You worry because the baby doesn’t seem to move much, but Oin confirms everything seems to be going fine. “Your wee bairn just got this one’s personality, it seems!” He jokes, stabbing a mock-accusatory finger Bofur’s way.

Bombur

✧ A baker's dozen. For as long as you've known him, that's how many wee ones Bombur purported wanting. Thirteen more than most dwarves have, you always tease him, but in reality every time you see your sweet husband with children and hear him dream of a family your heart leaps. That is why the moment you take his hands and tell him it's come true is special, intimate, a quiet draw in and out of breath that has him sobbing joyously and nuzzling into your embrace with so much love your chest bursts from the flight of it.

✧ Sixth senses never seemed real to you until you became pregnant and it was like Bombur knew what you were craving and was making it before you could even say anything!

✧ Cannot keep away from you. Always wants to be kissing you and cupping your cheeks and holding your hands, just so so sweet!

✧ Bombur is so much more good-natured than you, for all the jokes about how you'll be as big as him soon have you swinging, but he just holds you back and laughs alongside them, saying he's looking forward to it with a twinkle in his eye.

✧ Literally baffled if you ever feel bad about your body; his legitimate confusion alone halfway snaps you out of the sad reverie, and all the following words about your beauty and your husband's appreciation of every inch does the rest.

✧ "You know I'll keep you safe, right? Both of you," he tells you one day, a hand resting upon your bump, "I may not be some great warrior, but Mahal help anyone who comes between us."

Dori

✧ From even before you were actually wed you knew that Dori would be an excellent father. Having taken care of his younger brothers from quite an early age, he had knowledge atop a naturally caring personality you fell for. Gentlemanly Dori waited with you, keeping chaste until after your wedding, but once it is official you know your news could come at any time and you accept that. On your one-year anniversary, in fact, your first gift to Dori is the tiniest bracelet of fine amber beads. “Does this mean…?” As soon as he sees you nod, Dori is taking you in his arms, cradling you gently as if you were made of fine porcelain and thrice as precious.

✧ Caring father-to-be. A little too caring. "If those are too heavy for you, I can carry them!" "They're just books, I'll be alright, Dori." "Oh, don't eat that, you got sick last time." "I haven't been sick in a month!" "That's a lot of steps, should I carry you?" "...Actually, sure."

✧ Always sleeps with his arm wrapped around your middle. No exceptions.

✧ Has every manner of tea and remedy you could desire on hand or otherwise purchases it. Same goes for supplies- Dori even found a ring-shaped cushion for you to lay on! He has your back for any ailment and is often there to make or apply your cure himself. After all, he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it!

✧ You love this dwarf with all your heart. He takes it upon himself to find dwarrowdams willing to let him practice changing diapers on their wee bairns and surprises you with this newfound skill when you return home one day!

✧ Dori’s love of the finer things absolutely carries over into his future fatherhood, as he has the loveliest little velvet clothes made and procures the dearest little bejeweled hairbrush. All in all, both of you amass far more than you need because any time you go out it inevitably devolves into you two clasping your joined hands between each other, gushing over all the wee things, and taking them home!

Nori

✧ He never thought he would get married at all, let alone have a family, but as time goes on the desire to continue his lineage and finally settle down takes hold. Then suddenly there he is desperately trying to seduce you into trying for a little one! It doesn't take long, not with his charm, until the day comes when you teasingly tell him that he got his way. Smirking until the realization takes hold of him, his arms are then snaking around your waist to pull you close.

✧ Always talking about how he's going to teach his little one everything he knows. When pressed about it, responds with such things as fighting and picking locks. His defense? "What if 'e gets stuck somewhere, or-"

✧ Impatient! "When am I gonna be able to feel 'em?" He asks, a hand upon your belly, which has yet to display any changes. "Not for another few months, Nori! I haven't even begun to show!"

✧ Hides things sometimes or puts them up places you can't go just so he can swoop in and help you, saving your day and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he tells you he can handle it, don't you worry your pretty little head.

✧ Nori always teases you when he pours himself a drink. "Bet you'd like some of this, huh? Not for three more months!" He chuckles. Your brows furrow. "Three months? What about when I'm feeding?" "What does tha- oh. Does that really-" "Yes, yes it does." "By the stars, I could have got my baby drunk!"

✧ Talks to the baby quite a bit, especially when he finally can feel the kicks. "Where you running off to, huh?" He chuckles, feeling the flutters against his hand pick up. "That's 'cause of me, isn't it? You hear me? That's right, it's your da. Can you believe it? Me, your da! I'll take good care of you, you hear?"

Ori

✧ "Ori, dear," you implored your husband, "Might you knit something for me?" Looking up from the scarf he'd just finished, Ori's eyes fell upon you and he gave that smile, the special one reserved just for you. "Of course. What would you like?" "A wee pair of booties," you replied, hands clasped and expression dreamy. "Who needs booties?" He asked, head cocked. "We will in the fall," you answered, stepping closer and resting a hand upon his. Ori's jaw dropped. "You... I... We-" Smile widening, you nodded. "I. You. We," you agreed.

✧ Nearly from the first day you know you are with child, Ori is rattling off names. After tossing out a great deal, he finally pauses and gives a sheepish apology. "I'm sorry, I suppose I've thought about this a lot," he confesses with a grin, "I just can't believe it's happening." Your hand joins with his, resting over your little bump. "Neither can I. It's like a dream."

✧ "So," you ask Ori one day, leaning your chin upon the couch where you'd lain, "What should our plan be for when my water breaks?" Your husband's brows furrow. "When your what?" "Oh, no," you mutter. Cue Ori spending his afternoon receiving a great multitude of lessons. What he got for being raised by other dwarf men, you suppose. "That really all happens to you?" He asks, gaping at you as though you came of the Valar themselves. "Yes, it does. Birth is a great deal of work. They don't just run on out, you know!" "Yes, I know. Of course I know." Ori's voice is faint; he excuses himself and you assume it's to faint or be sick, but about an hour later he returns bearing gifts. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all that." "Sweetheart," you chuckle, cupping his cheek, "You know it takes two, right?" Your sweet husband reddened, but he nodded.

✧ Ori takes on almost all the cleaning himself- you haven't even asked! Finally curiosity gets the better of you and you inquire as to why he's gotten so into housekeeping. "Well, aren't you tired?" He asks simply, innocently, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

✧ He also knits far more than that pair of booties you requested- all three of you will have matching sweaters before your little one has arrived!

✧ Ori's favorite thing in the world is sitting with you in his lap, one hand cradling your growing bump and the other holding a book as you two take turns reading aloud, filling your cozy hollow with the sounds of voices your little one will come to love. The books are hand-drawn, written, and bound by him, of course!

Fili

✧ You two speak of little ones so much it borderline infuriates the others, Kili himself even bursting out in frustration one day at yet another interruption about tiny clothes, "Just get her pregnant already!" "Good idea. See you later," Fili replies, scooping you up and carrying you off bridal-style. "Wait, I- Damn, brother..." In reality, Fili just carried you around the corner and set you down while you two burst out laughing, but about a month later your tries were in fact successful!

✧ Honeyed words were no trouble for your husband before, but now? Praise falls endlessly from his lips. "Never did I think you could get more beautiful, and yet each day you succeed beyond my wildest dreams."

✧ Fili has a near-magical sense for your new struggles of coordination, all but flying to your side to catch your hand or waist whenever you trip or even whenever you must rise up again from your seat!

✧ He loves to tease you, asking what disgusting thing you'll think of him to fix next or joke that he can finally beat you in a fight in this state, but every joke is punctuated by the most loving eyes and gestures that they cannot do a thing but warm your heart and make you chuckle.

✧ Your baby is very active, kicking all the time! "We've definitely got a little Fili in here!" Your husband exclaims with a grin, hand resting atop your belly to feel your little one's exuberant motions. "A strong babe for sure," you sigh, "Much to the pity of my ribs!" "Too bad we aren't having a Kili. Nice and lazy for you." "Hey, I heard that!"

✧ He turns his head, peering over his shoulder at you as you waddle after him, golden hair cascading down. "Care for me to slow down a little?" "I care for you to shut up," you shoot back, crossing your arms and fighting your smile.

Kili

✧ The thought crossed your mind far before it did your husband's. Not that Kili had no desire for children, it was simply that the possibility was all the more yours to consider. It took a visit from your young cousin, who had Kili wrapped around your finger, for the fire to light in your husband's head as well, a smile lighting up his face. "We- we could..." "I know, Kili." You could and you certainly did but a few months later.

✧ "I hope they look just like you." "Me too." Kili pulls his head out of the crook of your neck. "Hey, that is the part where you say 'no, I hope they look like you'!" "I'm doing the work of carrying for how long again? Nine, ten months? Least they can do is resemble me a little," you shoot back with a smirk.

✧ It was Oin who brought the news: "Both babies seem healthy as far as I can tell!" "Both?" You gape. "Both babies?" "'s right," Oin replies, "I know I can't always hear the best, but I haven't been wrong on a heartbeat yet. You can feel 'em." "Guess we did pretty good, eh love?" Kili teases, earning him an elbow to the ribs, but he just shakes his head and tugs you closer against his chest. "Should we make their names confusing as well?" "Don't you think it might get old for them?" "Fili and I switched names plenty of times and we aren't even identical!" You should have known.

✧ Kili takes to sleeping facing you, close enough that sometimes your cheeks brush. Others he slips down lower and you awake with your husband cuddled up to the bump of your belly.

✧ Will come running from any room, anywhere, to feel the babies kick, and also loves tugging along any of his family he can take, too. Childlike wonder fills your husband's eyes every time and pride glistens in his dark eyes when he's brought along his mother, his brother, even his uncle the king!

✧ Never once do you doubt yourself or have one moment of room for insecurity, for Kili still flirts with you as if you were tweens and sneaks all sorts of touches, pecks, and affectionate hands in your hair wherever he can find it! The notion of a baby destroying the romance of your relationship is laughable to you, who married a dwarf that has no shame telling you you're the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth and warm his-and the baby's in a different way-body.

Bilbo

✧ Bilbo's a perceptive hobbit. He knows something's off with you. You don't usually scurry around the way you are like everything has to be perfect. That's his job. "Something the matter? Are you... expecting someone?" Your husband follows you down Bag End's hall as he gives his inquiry, eyebrows shooting up at the look on your face when you turn around. Consternation, resignation, finally a smile. "I was going to tell you after dinner," you answered, "But since you asked it like that, yes I am expecting someone. Our child this spring." At that, it was Bilbo's turn to shift through expressions. Shock, realization, finally a smile.

✧ Nursery shopping has become Bilbo's favorite pastime. Baby Baggins isn't arriving for months and yet your husband is returning from market with all manner of trinkets for the shelves and paper for the walls. You cannot help giggling at his armfuls of supplies and kissing his cheek as you relieve as much of his burden as he allows you to.

✧ So sweet, always helping you dress, pulling on every garment with the utmost of care and even avoiding your reflection on days you feel bad. Quickly kissing each part of your body before he covers it with something he knows will be comfortable.

✧ You'll be eating well whether you like it or not! Bilbo will make you anything under the sun if it means you and Baby Baggins are getting nourishment and he certainly will not have you skimping! Anything that makes you sick simply is not allowed in Bag End at all, end of discussion.

✧ One night, you awake to soft whispers and your heart melts at the sight of Bilbo resting his chin on your growing bump talking to the baby. Not uttering a word, you simply watch, taking in the moment beneath the sheen of tears in your eyes.

✧ "Careful, careful," Bilbo is always telling you, holding your hand and guiding you over the smallest of obstacles, even little puddles and rocks.

Thranduil

✧ He has talked about getting you pregnant before, but speaking of it and doing it are two entirely different things, especially with...well, words of such nature. Thus, you find yourself nervously wringing your hands before your husband as he strokes your face, asking whatever is the matter. At Thranduil's touch, his intense gaze, you fin yourself melting and admitting all, confessing that you are expecting his child. You are certainly not expecting the way his confident smile utterly falters, dissipating in favor of the look of a man near tears. "Truly? A little one of our own?" "Yes," you whisper, finally able to smile as the tension melts from your body, which is soon pulled against the Woodland King's. "Long have I dreamed of this day, my love."

✧ One of his favorite new activities is commissioning you new maternity dresses; you will certainly have plenty to wear if Thranduil has any say about it! In addition, when the time comes of course he requests that you model them for him.

✧ Thranduil loves to sneak up behind you, lightly wrapping his hands about your waist and laying them atop yours, his head resting in the crook of your neck and breathy, pleased laughter warming the skin there.

✧ When you start showing, oh, he loves it. One more sign that you are his, utterly and truly his queen, his beloved, claimed by Thranduil in every sense. He follows your lead, a hand around your waist, letting you shine like the gem he knows you to be. Rarely will you two be seen apart, not when the king can bask in your glow, relish the eyes upon your beautiful form, heavy with his child.

✧ There is one day he catches you in tears and heart tearing he steps to scoop you up against him, cheeks held gently in his elegant hands, which begin to glitter with your tears. "My rings no longer fit," you sob, head falling to his chest. Thranduil holds you close, grip loose as though you might break. "That is not your fault, meleth nîn." "I feel so... so massive." "Who wishes a small dwelling, hm? Piteous thing not to have any comforts. Your body is a host of life, the vessel of a bloodline. Beautiful in all its forms. Never forget that, oh dearest one."

✧ Thranduil is experienced; he knows many little tricks to help you feel better, be they massages or ways to bear your weight. He impresses you with the knowledge he has of the ways of women, understanding your water breaking, dilation, and every complication the healers warn you about and telling you before they even do!

Feren

✧ First to know was neither you nor your husband, but rather your cat, for she had suddenly become your little shadow, following you about your home and taking rest upon your lap as often as she could. "I wonder what it is that got into her," you commented one afternoon, smiling and stroking her back. "Growing up, ours got like this when my mother was carrying my younger sisters. Both times. It was like he could sense it," Feren replied. You both sat in smiling silence for a moment longer before simultaneously straightening, looking each other right in the widening eyes.

✧ Gets a little flustered, frankly. Not so much at your news itself, simply the realization sinking in that he is to be a father. He, Feren, will have a child. He says this out loud several times before suddenly breaking out into a smile. You tease him for going through half his emotions at once, but now the wave of joy has swept him up!

✧ Playfully rolls his eyes and mock-complains every time you remind him that he has to clean up after the cat now! Subsequently adds that he would fetch you the moon if you asked it.

✧ Loves helping you bathe the more difficult your condition makes it, scrubbing your hair with such care and gently massaging your sore feet and ankles as you wash up. Despite your husband's skill in battle, Feren's hands are the most loving and delicate you could ask for.

✧ Your husband has a natural tendency to rise early, so now that your sleep has become more fitful you do find that you have more time to spend together. Your head falling to his shoulder as you whisper to each other, seated as you are upon your bed with blankets draped over your shoulders.

✧ Feren wins your heart time and time again, like the day he lowered you down gently onto the grass of a sunny meadow, basking with you and weaving flowers. He made you a ring, crowned you with a wreath of flowers atop your head, and made another little one to place gently on the curve of your belly, bringing your heart to soar.

Bard

✧ Uncertainty wracks your heart and wrings your hands at the would-be-cheerful news. In fact, you yourself do feel joy, have since your suspicions were confirmed, but would Bard see it the same way? He already has three mouths to feed, three children all old enough to take care of themselves. Will he wish to start it all over so? "What's wrong, love? Your lip is bleeding." So it is. You've practically gnawed the poor thing off in all your stewing. A sigh escapes you. Bard is your husband. No sense in delaying a very necessary conversation. "I know we should have spoken more about it..." You begin, trailing off. At once, Bard senses your reservation and rises to your side, taking hold of your arms; the love in his dark eyes brings a small smile to your lips and relaxes you slightly. "I'm with child, Bard." Almost childlike is the wonder and joy spreading across your face, and before you can say another word you are being pulled into Bard's chest, face snuggling into the fur of his coat.

✧ He knows what to expect, naturally, so Bard is definitely not the type of husband to gripe about your requests, though he does smirk and poke fun if you’re especially outrageous with it or have a funny enough delivery. Then kisses you if you pout about it before fetching what you seek.

✧ Caution overtakes you and your husband as you make to tell his older children the news, particularly you, but your wringing hands relax when you can see the joy in their eyes, particularly the girls! They hope the baby is another girl, hugging you so tight you almost cannot breathe, but you complain not.

✧ Happy is Bard to take on assistance cooking; he knows it can make you sick sometimes and besides, it's a nice excuse to make sure you get all the nutrients you need! You are certainly very lucky in the skill and domesticity of your spouse.

✧ Stands behind you and reaches his arms around you, lifting up the weight you carry and smiling, kissing your neck and cheeks as you relax from your burden.

✧ He also has no qualms about making you rest, down even to physically lifting you up and carrying you to bed if he must!

Beorn

✧ Hesitant as he always would have claimed to be about bringing more Skin-Changers into a world so cruel to them, Beorn feels his nesting instincts kick in very quickly after you become his wife. You see it in the things he gathers, the way your husband moves things such as your blades to higher, safer locations. He is anticipating something. Something you cannot help pulling him aside and asking about, and when your feelings on the subject are made known, well, it is entirely possible you conceived that very night.

✧ Beorn has an almost eerie sense for all the changes taking place in your body. You feel a sharp pain in your back, and without a word your husband is behind you, ushering you down for a massage with some of the oils he's pressed.

✧ The aforementioned nesting instincts manifest early on, your husband carefully blunting corners and tucking away the best blankets so the little one-or ones!- will be nothing but safe and comfortable.

✧ Withdrawn as he could be, Beorn's affection is drawn out by your condition, his big brown eyes soft upon you as he pulls you into his lap, large hands secure about your waist and sliding gently up and down your growing belly.

✧ And grow it does! It seems to get heavier by the day, but that is explained thanks to your husband's exceptional hearing. "Four heartbeats. One is yours. A litter- three are coming!" Spots dance in your vision at that news, but Beorn's smile as he grips your hand brings you back to the light. You could do it with him by your side. "Our little litter."

✧ He attempts to reassure you anytime your anxiety grows. "My dearest flower, I have delivered hundreds of calves and piglets in my day! You will see this through." Reassuring? Perhaps not so much. But in your heightened emotion, that does break you into a wild laughter that does indeed relax you nonetheless.

Want to meet the little ones? Perhaps there will be a Part 2 😉

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