#hot wife alert

[zhoudadudugongjin]

Liu Tao as Zhang Chunhua in The Advisors Alliance (2017)

[the-kipsabian]

[satrs]

Baby, Baby!

SYNOPSIS; Babyfever with the l&ds men<3

FEATURING; ZAYNE. XAVIER. SYLUS. RAFAYEL. CALEB. xfem!reader

TAGS; ADULT/NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! unprotected intercourse, smegual intercourse. br$$ding. creampi. heavy dörtytalk. extremely pathetic crybaby caleb alert!!!. mention of kids, duh!. doggy in rafs. mating press in sylus'. spooning in xaviers. cowgirl in calebs.

✎ A/N; FUCK SWEETIES! FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! I thought I'd see the pearly gates before I get to live this day LMAO. Couldn't stop thinking about my babytrapper!Caleb post, so this came out of it ^^ This might be my fav work yet ngl hehe

ZAYNE ✰ How to make a Baby 101!

"You",

Zayne stops himself as he takes a deep breath, a grunt rumbling in his throat, "You want a baby?"

It's as if you could read his mind. He's been thinking about this—about a baby—for quite a while now, seeing it as a next step after your established wedding. You're his love — his darling wife, so it only seemed it would be natural for you both to consider this next big step in your life.

Zayne loomed over you, his gaze dark, smoldering, and consuming. His breath was ragged, uneven, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open beneath him.

Your eager nod was all it took for him to stuff his entire length inside you in one swift motion, feral, low grunt erupting from the depths of his lungs.

"l'll give it to you. Gonna-" he stops himself with a hiss, hips stuttering at your greedy grip onto his dick, "Gonna give my sweet darling a baby."

"P-please Zayne. Need it soooo bad!"

A helpless, broken mewl spilled from your lips as your nails clawed into his shoulders, heels digging into his back in a desperate attempt to pull him in deeper. His body shuddered at your neediness, at the way you begged so sweetly, so pathetically.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, strained, like he was holding himself back. Like he was fighting the urge to ruin you completely.

His fingers traced along your jaw, down your throat, until his hand traced circles on your belly. His lips parted, his tongue darting out to wet them as he stared down at you like you were something he could devour whole.

"You always let me have you like this," he rasped, his hips rolling forward, stretching you open inch by inch over and over again. "Like you were made for me."

You gasped, back arching, hands flying to his biceps, gripping tight, and Zayne let out a deep, guttural groan. His head fell forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he pushed deeper, until there was no space left between you.

"Fuck," he hissed, his teeth gritting and his hands clutching at your waist like he was trying to ground himself. "Can’t hold back when you’re like this."

His hips snapped forward, the sudden movement pulling a shaky moan from your lips, and he drank it in like a man starved.

His pace was slow, deep, and precise—savoring the cramped space of your cunt, memorizing every pulse, every clench, and every desperate little noise you made.

"You feel that?" he whispered, pressing his circling hand down against your stomach, his touch firm, possessive. "Feel how deep I am?"

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping into something low, rough, almost dangerous. "Nobody else gets to have you like this." His teeth nipped at your earlobe, his breath shuddering. "Nobody else ever will."

And when he pulled back—just enough to see the way you were falling apart beneath him—his lips curled into a dark, satisfaction.

"Mine."

The gluttonous vibration of his voice startled you almost, his mouth hot against your neck as you both simultaneously come undone, rolling your puffy clit between his digits to ride out your high.

But he wouldn't stop cumming - he couldn't. He has to make sure you take it. Fat spurts of cum paint your walls completely, pumping the oh-so familiar fluid into your womb.

"You'll be the best mother ever- fuckkk." He continues to ram his now spent cock into you, growing full erect again, the thought of your pregnant form just plastered before his vision.

You huffed, trying to shove at his chest, but the wicked smirk on his lips only deepened. Voice dripping with something dark and sweet, "I think I should go for another shot, just to be sure."

And a crazed smile creeps up his usually nonchalant features at your aghast expression, quick to plaster a sweet, dotting kiss to your plump lips.

He rolled his hips, slow, deep, deliberate, pushing his seed deeper and deeper into you, and he knew that this really didn't make any difference on the outcome from a medical state point but right now everything in him screamed to pump you full.

One thing is for certain, though— you're not coming out of this not pregnant with his child. Or maybe in plural as in children? Yeah, that sounds way better.

"Yeah," he chuckled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your jaw,

"One more for good luck."

XAVIER ✰ Oopsie-Daisy!

The first thing you felt was warmth—the heat of Xavier’s body pressed tight against yours, his arm heavy and unyielding over your waist, keeping you right where he wanted you. Even in sleep, he held you close, like he couldn’t stand the thought of you slipping away.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been awake, but the lazy caress of his fingers over your stomach told you he’d been lingering in this moment, taking his time. Soft, slow circles, the barest drag of his fingertips across sensitive skin—teasing, testing.

A slow roll of his hips, and suddenly you did feel it—the firm, heavy weight of his cock dragging through your slick folds, grinding right up against your clit.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he did it again, long and deliberate, letting the thick head of his cock glide through the wet mess he was making of you.

His fingers dragged lower, barely brushing over your clit before pulling away—keeping you right at the edge, keeping you desperate.

“You’re not leaving this bed ‘til you’re full," he promised, his cock sliding against you again, so damn slick, so damn hard. "So damn full you got no choice but to take, take, take.”

His breath, warm and steady, ghosted over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He must’ve felt it because a low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

In one swift motion he slides into you with ease, walls clenching around the all too familiar girth, his leaking pre smeared onto your insides.

"Mm-mm," he tsked, his gravelly voice thick with amusement. "Ain’t no runnin’ now, baby. You’re right where I want you."

His grip tightened slightly, his palm pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, like he wanted to hold you there, to remind you exactly who had you like this. His nose brushed against your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a slow, teasing kiss beneath your ear.

"Feel me in there?" he murmured, voice thick with possession. "All deep inside you, right where I belong."

His hand flexed, fingers splaying wider, pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside you.

"Tell me you love it," he whispered, his lips dragging down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. "Tell me you love bein’ mine. That you love me fillin’ you up like this."

Your breath hitched, and the second you whimpered out, "Hhnnn! — I love it when you fill me up, love you—"

Xavier growled low in his throat, his arm tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his hips snapped forward in a slow, aching thrust.

"Damn right you do," he murmured, a smirk pressing against your skin.

Your breath hitched as his hips rolled forward, pressing his already-hard cock against your dripping heat between your thighs. A knowing chuckle rumbled through his chest.

"You want me to fill you up, don’t you? Fuck a baby into you?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his fingers gripped your hips, the moment he rolled his own against you—

A small, broken gasp slipped out instead.

„Everyone's gonna know. They’ll know your mine. They’ll— goddd your squeezing me so damn tight, I can’t—„ his nonstop rambles only continue, accompanied by the lewd sounds echoing off the walls.

His breathing turns rapid, hooded eyes fixed onto your tummy, propping one strong leg onto the bed to sink deeper into you.

His chest pressed flush against your back, warm and solid, trapping you in his arms, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, giving him the perfect angle to bury himself deeper, harder, where you needed him most.

His hands—god, his hands—one pressed firmly against your stomach, splayed wide over your lower belly, like he could already feel himself inside you, claiming you from the inside out. The other? Sliding lower, fingers teasing along your inner thigh, thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

"Well," he breathed, lips brushing against your ear, voice dripping with pure sin, "who am I to deny my girl?"

The way your body shuddered at his words, the way you clenched down around him had Xavier groaning, curses spilling from his lips, his hips faltering for just a second before snapping forward with renewed force.

"You like that, huh?" he rasped, his fingers tightening their hold on your stomach. "Like knowing you’re mine? That no one else gets to see you like this?"

Plap. Plap. Plap.

His hips rolled, slow, deliberate, deep.

"Say it," he demanded, voice wrecked, desperate, pushing his forehead against your shoulder. "Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the only one who gets to have you like this."

His thrusts grew more frantic, his breath ragged against your ear, his grip almost bruising.

"Tell me," he rasped, grinding deep, making you feel every inch of him. And the second you did—the moment you choked out that you were his, that no one else could ever have you like this—

Xavier lost it.

His arm wrapped around your waist, locking you in place as he drove himself as deep as he could go, his body trembling against yours as he came undone.

And even as he shuddered, even as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, his hands never left your stomach.

Because now?

Everyone was going to know.

SYLUS ✰ Mission: Impregnable!

"A-again." His slight stutter doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the loud echoing of his hips snapping into yours. "Say it again."

He had to have misunderstood something, right? Because if he didn't, if you really said what he thought you said- you're fucked.

You whine at his guttonal voice, his desperate hips drilling his dick further into your depths. "Wan'- oh! Wan' you to make me a mommy, Sy."

Sylus had that look in his eyes again—the kind that made your breath catch, the kind that sent a thrill up your spine. His fingers ghosted along your skin, calculating, possessive, until they found comfort with your hand interlocked with his.

"You realize," he murmured, voice low, precise, mere inches from your lips, "that biologically speaking, your body is at its most receptive right now."

You see, Sylus was no dummy. Of course, he was keeping track on your cycle. Who do you think he is? And it just so happened that today you're the most fertile.

Core burning in pure excitement, your heels dig into his lower back, eager and hungry for his seed. You whine as you feel his swollen cock bullying your poor cervix.

"Sylus-"

He silenced you with a slow, deep kiss, fingers tightening on your waist.

"And if I were to push you past your limit tonight—again and again—" his voice dipped, sending shivers down your spine, "well, statistically, the odds would be in my favor, wouldn’t they?"

Your breath caught as he tilted your chin up, making you look at him. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, obsessive, completely focused on you.

His fingers slid down your stomach, tracing slow, calculated patterns, as if mapping out the future he was about to give you.

"I should be thorough," he mused, almost to himself. "Another round would increase the probability of success by at least—"

You didn’t get to hear the end of that sentence.

Because Sylus surged forward, lips crashing onto yours in a way that was desperate and all-consuming, like he was finally allowing himself to break past his carefully maintained restraint.

Like an unstoppable force, he slides out of you until only his crown was engulfed by your puckering hole until he slams! His entire length past your sobbing ring.

The ridiculous stretch his dick inflicts onto your poor pussy is otherworldly, almost unbelievable. As he forces his girthy inches further into you, a noticeable bulge appears on your tummy.

And oh boy, does he notice it.

All it takes is one glance — one look of those rubies of his— downwards to the gradually growing imprint of his tip meanly poking against your tummy, and he snaps.

His big arms reach for your legs and in almost an instant, you’re folded into the meanest, nastiest mating press known to man.

„O-Oh!“ you surprised hiccup does nothing to soften his antics — quite the opposite. A feral grunt erupting from the depth of his lungs lets you know in what condition your beloved Sylus is in.

„Twins. I‘ll give you twins.“

"Ah!- T-twins!?"

He‘s gone mad.

What's left of him is a disheveled mess, crazed out mind deadest on pumping you full of his gooey load, even if it's the last thing he'll do.

"Yes. Two sweet little girls, just as beautiful as their mother."

His massive frame caged you in, your thighs now folded up to your chest, leaving you completely at his mercy. His body was trembling, slick with sweat, but his grip on you was ironclad. He wouldn’t let you run, wouldn’t let you escape—not from him, not from this.

His chuckle swells your heart with so much love you can barely breathe. Or was it because of his dick reaching so ridiculously far up into you, you could almost feel him in your throat? Both perhaps.

Flaming eyes, usually so warm and gentle, were wild now—dangerous, obsessive. This wasn't your Sylus anymore. This is the leader of Onychinus—conquering and claiming everything he desires.

And at this moment, his desire was to make you the mother of his offspring.

"There," he growled, his voice raw, almost a snarl. "That’s where I need to be. Need to be deeper—need to—fuck—"

His hips snapped forward, sharp, relentless, sending white-hot pleasure sparking through your veins. Lips were parted, panting, his expression one of pure, animalistic need.

Your head lulled back, words failing you, but he wasn’t having that. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, forcing your gaze back to him.

"Stay with me," he pleaded in a whimper, his voice thick, strained. His thrusts were turning frantic now, sloppy, desperate, like he was losing control. "Wanna see your face when I fill you up."

You whimpered, and that was all it took.

Sylus let out a broken, guttural groan, his body shuddering violently as he bottomed out, burying his throbbing cock as deep as he could go. You could feel him— only him  — hot, thick cum spilling inside you in endless waves, stuffing you full.

And the way he was still pressing his weight into you, still rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles, made you realize—

He was nowhere near done.

RAFAYEL ✰ Catching Feelings & Babies

The room was dimly lit, warm, and filled with the soft sound of ragged breaths and skin meeting skin. Rafayel’s strong hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted you—where you belonged.

"You look so perfect like this," he murmured, voice deep and rich, like he was admiring a piece of fine art. Like you were something sacred. His fingers traced over the dip of your spine, down to where you stretched around him, taking him so beautifully.

"B-been waitin' for this sooo long baby, finallyyyy." Breathless, he pounds his hips against your plump ass again, again and again. His repeated movement rams you deeper into the soft cushion.

Rafayel’s hands were gentle, reverent, gliding over your heated skin, like you were something fragile and precious.

But his eyes?

Dark and Deep. Filled with something unshakable.

Your body arched instinctively, seeking more, needing more, and Rafayel only chuckled—low, dark, and knowing.

A broken gasp tore from your throat, your fingers clutching the sheets, barely able to hold yourself up as he pressed even deeper, stretching your hole to the very limit.

"Shhh, love," he soothed, one hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades. "Let me take care of you."

He rolled his hips in slow, deep strokes — each one hitting the perfect spot, each one meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was softer than usual, thick with emotion. His fingers splayed over your lower stomach, pressing just enough to make you feel every pulsating vein of his, every knock against your cervix.

"Y-yes", you swallowed hard, head spinning in circles while nodding. A slow, warm smile curled his lips, but beneath it was something more dangerous. Something primal.

"Good."

"That’s it," Rafayel praised, his voice like liquid gold, soothing and possessive all at once. "Take all of me. Let me give you everything."

He adjusted his angle, thrusting deeper, harder, slower, dragging out every sensation until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

"Listen to her. Cryin' for me ta fill her up." He follows suit with his long finger pressed against your plump lips, consoling you. "Shhh, baby. I know, I knowww. But ya gotta hold on for me, mkay?"

You cry out his name as his hefty length hits every spot imaginable inside of you, stars appearing behind your eye sockets. "Nghhh! Rafayel, I can't!"

Dizziness overcomes you as you reach back for his beefy arm, nails clawing crescent moons into his flesh. His steady hips cause his bulging head to nudge at your gushy spot repeatedly as your juices coat his length in a glossy essence.

The lewd squelch sounding from your cunt has him in a chokehold. Each rapid thrust of his sinks your body further into the sheets, his head spinning at the obscene sight of your back in a nasty arch, his pelvis snapping against your ass, each jiggle robbing a needy sound from him.

He‘ll never get enough of this— enough of you.

"Sh-Shit, cutie. Gonna give it to ya realll good. Fill you up — f-fuckkk! Make you a mommy.“ The slight crack in his voice gets drowned out by the loud sound of his heavy balls snapping against your poor swollen clit.

Hm. Mommy has a nice ring to it.

His hand left your waist, only to wrap around your throat, pulling you up—back against his chest and you didn’t think that it could be possible for him to get even deeper, but he did. His lips brushed your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"You’re mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, an unshakable truth. "And when I fill you up—" he thrust harder, dragging a desperate moan from your lips—"yer' gonna stay mine forever."

And the way he was holding you so close, fucking you so deep, made you believe every single word.

He could burst right at the sight of your fucked-out face, and he starts to imagine how perfect your child would be. With your gorgeous hair and that stunning smile of yours, and—

"M‘ gonna cum! G-oshhhh please don’t stop don’t—"

She, no — they would have his eyes and—

With your head leaned against his shoulder, blue and pink ombre orbs fixate on your face.

His repeated shallow breaths tickle your neck, an impatient hand cups your belly, finger soothingly brushing over it, his hot breath brushing against your ear.

" Mhmmm yeahh. We’re gonna have two gorgeous girls, can’t have her be all alone, can we?“

"T-two?“ you manage to choke out in shock, only to be startled by his chuckle. "Yeahhh, you’re right. Two is too little. Four is more like it.“

The speedy plap! plap! plap! Against the valley of your ass turns irregular, needier, even.

"Four—fuck—four perfect little babies," he panted, his lips brushing over your temple, his voice thick with love and obsession. "We’ll have the perfect family, won’t we? You, me, our little ones—"

His thrusts turned sloppy, desperate, and then—his entire body locked up. A deep, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spilled inside you, claiming you, filling you up until there wasn’t an inch left untouched.

He collapsed against your back, his weight warm, grounding, safe. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, his lips pressing lazy, feather-light kisses along your skin.

"You’re mine," he murmured, his voice softer now, no less possessive but full of warmth. "My love, my home, my everything."

A shaky breath left you, your body spent but satisfied. "Four kids, huh?" you mumbled, exhaustion creeping into your voice.

Rafayel hummed, his arms wrapping around you, holding you impossibly close.

"Or maybe five."

CALEB ✰ Practice Makes Perfect

He must be dreaming, surely.

"Please, Caleb. Need it- need it so bad pleaseplease-"

Yeah. Because if there is heaven, fucking you raw for the first time surely is just that.

His head pressed against the bed, his breath coming in shaky, uneven pants, his hands gripping your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave bruises—but he didn’t mean to.

"So—so good," he whimpered, his voice breaking on the last syllable, like he was barely holding himself together. "D-don’t—don’t move, I can’t—"

You clenched around him, and he quite literally sobs.

He's a mess.

It's pathetic, really. Tears stream down his face as he sniffles back the waterfall from flowing. But he couldn't care less, honestly.

Scenarios of you with a round and glowing belly, the birth of your shared child, their first words, steps - hell, even their graduation. He had all of it laid out in a timeline.

If you could see his thoughts, you would've probably called him crazy. And he wouldn't even blame you.

His fingers trembled as he tried so hard to keep himself together, but he was slowly falling apart, crumbling, unraveling.

"I—" he choked on his own breath, tears pricking his lashes, his entire body shaking as your hips work faster, grinding harder against his pelvis. " ‘M too deep—too full—fuck, I can feel it—"

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close, clinging, needy.

"Please," he begged, voice so broken, so wrecked, like he was praying to something greater than himself. "I-I wanna stay inside—I wanna stay with you forever."

His lips ghosted over your stiff nipples, soft, desperate kisses, imagining how full and plump they'll become once you're pregnant. And when you shifted the tiniest bit, he gasped—a wrecked, breathless little sound.

Your breath quickens, orgasm creeping up your spine with each rocking of your hips, desperately chasing your high.

His hips stuttered at the mere image of you - pregnant, movements turning frantic and uncontrolled, like he couldn’t take it anymore.

"C-caleb, I—" Mind going blank at one particular quick kiss against your cervix, you crash head first into your orgasm, pussy spasming around his girth.

A broken, wrecked sob tore from his throat, and you felt it—

The way his cock twitched inside you, the first thick pulse of heat spilling deep, painting your insides in long, desperate spurts.

His entire body shook, his arms wrapped around you so tightly you thought he might never let go.

"M-makin’ you a mommy," he babbled, voice thick with exhaustion, heavy with love. "Gonna—gonna make you so full, so round—"

God, he was a lost cause.

"I love you," he cried, his voice shaking, raw with need. "I love you—I love you—"

"Love you too, Caleb. You're s-so good for me. Gonna be a great papa." you spurt out in a spent, wobbly voice, body collapsing onto his in exhaustion.

And then he came. Again.

It was with a broken whimper, a desperate, wrecked sob, his entire body shaking, panting. He shoots endless ropes of cum deep into your womb, the overwhelming fullness in your tummy causing your mind to go hazy.

His orgasm was so intense and forceful, you can still feel stringy, weak cum dripping from his cock, only adding the cherry on top of your jammed vacancy.

He didn’t let go. He wouldn’t.

Even as his spent cock twitched inside you, even as his warm release dripped out in thick, messy streaks, he held you there, buried deep, unwilling to let even a drop go to waste.

His fingers clutched at your waist, desperate, like letting go would tear him apart. His chest rose and fell in quick, shaky pants, his eyes glassy, and his lips kiss-swollen and parted as he tried to catch his breath.

“P-please,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, pleading. “Don’t—don’t move yet.”

His face was flushed, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, tears clinging to his lashes. He was ruined, wrecked beyond repair, and it was all because of you.

A soft whimper tumbled from his lips as he nuzzled into your shoulder, his hands trailing weakly down your sides, needy, restless.

“Need to feel you just a little longer,” he mumbled, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Can’t—can’t be away from you yet.”

You could feel him still twitching inside you, his cock softening, but reluctant to leave. His release seeped out around the base, warm and sticky, but he just shifted his hips, pushing deeper, as if he could keep it all inside you.

"Made for me," he murmured, feverish, pressing sloppy, lingering kisses against your shoulder, your neck. "You're made for me."

His fingers roamed lazily, tracing the shape of your hips, your waist—like he was memorizing you, worshiping you, committing every inch of your body to memory.

"Promise me," he whispered against your ear, soft and broken. "Promise me you'll never leave me. That you'll always let me have you like this."

There was a plea in his voice, raw and vulnerable, like he’d fall apart if you said no.

You ran gentle fingers through his damp hair, soothing, reassuring and tugging him even closer.

"I'm yours, Caleb," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

His breath hitched. His thighs trembled beneath you.

"Say it again," he whispered, so quietly it almost wasn't there.

"I'm yours."

A broken whimper slipped past his lips, his hands gripping you tighter, his body pressing so close you could feel every inch of him molding into you.

And with a deep, shaky sigh, Caleb finally let himself go—sinking into you, into your warmth, into the one place he always belonged.

Nowhere else. No one else.

Just you.

Always you.

©︎SATRS. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify.

[gravegoer]

OMG I love your last sevika work💖😍

Can we maybe have more oblivious reader ?🥹👉👈

Maybe reader being a total housewife for sevika and loving her VERY much 💖 (my girl deserve a rest )

Taking care of her ✧₊⁺

thank you for your support ! i totally agree with you, my girl needs a BREAK so heres to giving some loving to sevika when she needs it and implementing a little more oblivious reader :) + a little blurb at the end for fun <3 !!

masterlist here

You let Sevika over often. She found a kind of comfort at your home, more so than at hers. Her place was kind of.. plain. I mean, it was funded by Silco, and she's barely home to begin with, always out on missions or at the bar.

But after you offered her your key, saying, "You can come over anytime you want, I don't mind." She definitely took up that invitation. But not without teasing you.

"Want me to come whisk you away in the night, huh? I bet you'd like that."

She basically moved in with you, coming home after a particularly hard mission late at night, sliding into bed with you. You would awake at the intrusion and immediately tell her to get up so you could survey her injuries.

Sometimes you'd make her warm soup if you were alert enough, she wrapped her thick arms around you, her warm hand contrasting with the cold metallic of the prosthetic. Breathing deeply into your ear as you stirred the pot.

You just being her cute little wife made her melt.

On the nights you didn't wake, she would let you sleep in, watching the way your eyelids flutter in your slumber. Letting out a deep chuckle at your small snores. Then she would walk over to the window and light a cigarillo before you awoke.

Instead of going to the bar when she was stressed she would lay in your lap on the couch while you massaged her head, making all her worries shrink away. She groans when it feels especially good, and furrows her eyebrows when you giggle at her noises.

Speaking of massages, she loves when you rub her tense shoulders and whisper sweet things to her. Although she would never admit to it, she smiles at your adamant complements when her face isn't in view.

While your fingers work into her broad shoulders she would tell you stories about the people she has met and the places she's been. The places she wants to take you.

She tilted her head back to rest it on your chest, looking up at you with hooded eyelids as a smile adorns your face. Planting a soft kiss to her forehead you continued your motions.

She screams internally when she sees you walk around the house with a cute apron on. "Kiss the cook? Don't mind if I do," She purred, tilting your chin to plant a hot kiss on your lips.

When you asked her if she liked your cooking she was always painfully honest. Especially when it was good. She lets out a huge dramatic sigh at a good bite of a hot meal. And an even more dramatic grimace at a pinch too much salt.

When she stayed the night she would let you put her hair up in the morning, and on occasion help her get dressed. She calls you over to help her with the buttons on her vest, knowing full well she can do it herself. (She just wants to watch your cute concentrated face) Sevika indulges in the brush of your fingers against her chest, soft and gentle.

Her scent lingered when she left for the day, the dull smell of leather and something warm. She tries not to light up a cigarillo in your house often but the smell does inhabit the couch where she often lit one up while you sat all pretty in her lap.

She loved the way you felt atop her thick thighs, your legs dangling in between hers. She rubbed your thigh with her mechanical hand affectionately while she took a drag. These are the moments you savored.

One morning you woke up significantly earlier then Sevika, the dim moonlight peering through your blinds. Glancing at the clock you read " 5 a.m. " You tried to roll over, back into Sevika's chest as an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep. Her warmth radiates on your face and you try to snuggle impossibly closer so that it would spread throughout your body.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning you ultimately decided to get up. You silently cursed your forgetfulness, as the night before you stupidly forgot to draw your curtains. Slowly slipping out of bed you padded your way to the bathroom and flicked on the lights. The soft buzz of the bulb welcomed you as you fixed your messy bedhead in the mirror.

Turning on the faucet, warm water ran over your hands, after splashing it on your face you peered over at the tub. An idea popped into your head. Sevika's had a rough week and she could definitely use some relaxing before the weekend. You smirked at your bright idea. Waking up to a beautiful girl and a warm bath? What's better than that? (Nothing)

Cranking the handle of hot water you tested it, humming to yourself at the temperature. It filled the bath slowly and you watched while you sat on the edge of the tub. Thinking about how Sevika will enjoy your surprise, imagining her cute reaction, and perhaps her lips on yours. At your thoughts you almost drifted to sleep when you were pulled out of your daze by the hot steam hitting your face.

Standing up, you pulled out some soothing bath salts from under your sink, pouring a little into the bath. Swirling the water around with your hands you pumped some soap into the water, coating the surface of the water with bubbles.

When you were satisfied you tip toed back into your room, drying your hands off on your clothes. You giggled at Sevika's large frame on your bed, her snores muffled by the plush pillow on her face. You almost couldnt bring yourself to wake her up.

But you touched her gently on the arm, "Sevi, wake up," You whispered.

When she didn't respond you shook her carefully. She groaned at the intrusion and turned to face you. "What..? it's too early for this," Her husky voice grumbled. She wasn't pleased to see you standing at the edge of the bed instead of laying beside her.

"I have a surprise for you," You whispered sweetly.

This made her squeeze her eyes shut for another second and sigh before running her hands over her face, "Okay, surprise me sweetheart."

You pulled her out of her spot, the blankets pooling on the floor around her feet. Helping her stand up you lead her to the dimly lit bathroom. Her hand was warm in yours, you noted the her light squeeze when she saw what was beyond the bathroom door.

Looking up at her face you saw a small smile grace her features, highlighted by the glow of the light, "All for me?"

You smirked in pride, "Yep! I knew you'd need it. Like it, huh?"

"Always know what I need," She purred while stroking your cheek with a thick finger.

Walking over to the tub, she sat on the edge. Her two fingers beckoned you to come closer, spreading her legs so you could stand between them.

"Join me?"

thank you for the ask ! this was fun to write and i hope for more asks in the future :) my inbox is always open !! and as always reblogs and kudos are always appreciated let me know if you liked this <𝟑 .ᐟ

[norrisainz33]

Miami Baby | MV33

☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.

☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic

☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.

☆ requested: nope!!

☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has added to their story

[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]

view story replies

user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!

user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???

yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!

ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true

yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!

ynuser: FORZA FERRARI

tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho

ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻

user3: MAMA Y MIAMI

user1: car or driver - level impossible

ynuser has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others

ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️

view all 2,103 comments

user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her

user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams

user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?

user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while

carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!

ynuser: likewise!!!

scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️

iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍

maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next

charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?

user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT

user9: MAX!???????????

user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn

charlesleclerc has posted a story

view story replies

ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n

user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?

maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her

charleslerclerc: to who?

maxverstappen1: y/n

charlesleclerc: max are you ok?

maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??

charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?

maxverstappen1: charles 🙄

maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok

charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner

charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉

maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭

user12: 3 pretty best friends

user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍

ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫

iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉

ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean

alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue

ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you

maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you

ynuser: blue? perhaps!

user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay

user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag

user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari

user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car

landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here

ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭

user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!

user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!

iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭

ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?

user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go

~~

The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.

"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.

"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.

his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."

"you are?"

max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"

"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.

"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"

"yes, please."

"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.

"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.

"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.

"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."

"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.

max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."

"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."

a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.

~~

ynuser has posted multiple stories

[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]

view all story replies

user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real

landonorris: i am crying u r right girl

ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club

landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!

user22: ok body is tea wtf

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much

ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl

yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!

ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house

yourbff: ok yeah fine

user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure

ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹

ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo

user44: i’m foaming at the mouth

maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning

ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫

user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy

user33: who are these divas?

~~

max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.

“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.

“i can’t.”

“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”

“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”

“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.

“i can’t.”

“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”

max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”

“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”

max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”

“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”

max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”

you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.

there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—

max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.

the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.

after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.

max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.

you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.

you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.

max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.

~~

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 26,264 others

f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.

view all 249 comments

user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg

user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something

user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned

user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it

user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh

user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous

user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans

user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable

user5: and you got me there

user9: need more max and y/n content asap

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[kingkonoha]

THE FANBOY GUIDE!

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ ˊ˗ fanboy!gojo x celebrity!reader

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo, one of your biggest fans, has the chance to finally meet you. however, he hopes to also accomplish his number one dream: to fuck his idol.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI - (switch!gojo, creampie, oral f!receiving, riding) fem!reader, no curses au.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐀/𝐍: ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo has been on my mind, & this is the result! header concept inspired by @kazushawty’s cyber theme.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 4K

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE, SATORU. ENJOY THE EVENT!

The blue-eyed man blinked at his bright computer screen, which displayed his emailed receipt from Ticketmaster. In the left pocket of his black sweatpants — which he wore despite the summer heat at this time of year — his phone buzzed to alert him of a fat sum of money being taken out of his bank account.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself.

He refreshed the page. And he refreshed it once more.

But after two lengthy scrolls through the confirmation email, there was no denying it.

He was going to meet you.

Gojo’s long fingers clicked away at his mouse and keyboard until he landed on his rather popular fan blog. To say that he was a member of your fandom would be an understatement, as he practically ruled over all of your supporters and gave true meaning to his username, kinggojo.

Even as a busy high school teacher and martial arts instructor — perhaps, entrepreneur as well, being as he owned his own martial arts school — he still carved out some time every single day to post about you. Watch your videos. Study your latest professional photoshoots and off-guard paparazzi shots.

And soon, a little plastic backstage pass will dangle around his neck, giving him undenied access to you.

The real you.

—

kinggojo: guess who’s finally gonna meet y/n? (:

—

At the airport, Gojo spent his time FaceTiming Nanami, who had to endure his rambunctious ramblings while on his lunch break.

“Give me one year,” Gojo paused, glancing down at his phone, “one year, and I swear, she’s gonna become my wife.”

“I don’t care,” Nanami chewed on his sandwich. “Please leave me alone.”

“Yeahhh, you’re just jealous.” As Gojo grinned goofily, the salaryman promptly ended the video chat.

While Gojo would have dialed him back repeatedly until he gave in and answered, Nanami had lucked out, as it was time for him to board his plane.

The plane ride was nothing short of exhilarating. Gliding through the air as a first-class passenger, he counted down the minutes until he’d finally see your charming smile in person.

Naturally, he had to splurge for an occasion as special as this one.

The best seats on the plane, the nicest hotel room in the city — he wished he could personally thank the spoiled geniuses who invented valet parking and free drinks for first-class passengers.

Although his bank account had seen better spending days, he was perfectly fine with eating cheap styrofoam cups of chicken flavored ramen once he got back home from his trip.

In his hotel room the night before his Big Day, Gojo gathered everything he might have needed along with his ironed outfit, and hung it up in the closet. He took his time with making sure he’d look especially sharp come morning, as he wanted to look good for you.

Good enough for you to fuck him.

Call him crazy. Overly optimistic. But he had a goal; an accomplishable dream that made his dick harden against the fabric of his pants whenever he thought about having hot, creamy sex with you — his number one idol.

As he crawled into bed and lazily stroked his cock, painting his fist white as the pearly ropes of cum spurted out of him, he thought about what it would be like if his wildest dream came true.

—

At the meet and greet, Gojo stood around backstage with all of the other fans, and one of them even knew about his blog. They all chatted about you, occasionally interrupting themselves to mumble a quick “I’m so nervous,” before talking about another topic, and Gojo couldn’t help but have pity for them.

He was nervous as well, of course, but even more so, he was determined.

And when you stepped through the door, smiling once your prosperous groupies shrieked and squealed, Gojo had finally understood what authors meant when they wrote about love at first sight.

You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. Even more gorgeous than in your pictures somehow. He was certain that you even glanced his way, but he couldn’t prove it.

“There she is,” Gojo said to no one in particular, not even completely aware that the words had fallen from between his lips, but a woman standing next to him spoke up.

“I can’t believe this is really happening!” She shook her hands out of pure excitement. “I hope she’ll sign my merch!”

Precious.

Some people had hopes and dreams as simple as that one. The taller man was certain that if he confessed his own hopes, they’d laugh at him.

Or worse, get him kicked out of the meet-and-greet completely.

But he didn’t have time to worry about what anyone else hoped to gain out of your event, not when the queue was moving rather quickly, and he found himself biting his lower lip and shifting his weight.

He was growing more and more nervous with every second that passed by. It was the ultimate countdown until he’d finally meet you.

Soon enough, it was his turn.

“Hi,” you beamed kindly at the handsome stranger, “how are you?”

How cute.

Your sweet, customer service tone made his heart skip a beat, and while he wanted to revel in the fact that he was meeting you and you were speaking to him, he couldn’t think too much about it. He couldn’t risk losing his cool.

“I’m better now that I’ve met you,” Gojo smiled, pulling out his phone to take the one photo he was promised in his package deal. “How are you doing? Having fun?”

You tilted your head a bit, and it occurred to Gojo that most fans probably didn’t bother to ask about your day, or your feelings.

“I’m great, thanks. You’re really kind for asking that!” You smiled. “What pose would you like to do, honey?”

Gojo melted inside. He knew the term was simply meant to make your fans feel more special than they actually were, but even so, he’d never forget the sound of you saying that to him.

Suddenly, Gojo wrapped one arm around your waist, pulled you against his side, and he raised his phone before snapping a photo with you.

Before he pulled away, he whispered into your ear, “there’s something really sweet about the way you called me honey just now.”

“O-Oh,” you stammered, looking down at your feet, the stranger’s warm breath against your ear made your cheeks warm up. “I just call everyone honey.”

“Of course, I’m just saying that I liked it. You’re just…” Gojo paused, looking you up and down, “pretty cute, aren’t you?”

Looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, you said, “are you flirting with me?”

Gojo glanced at your security guard. The buff guy was more interested in the complimentary buffet than your protection, and Gojo took a step closer, hearing a jealous groan from the line of fans behind him.

“Maybe,” A small smirk appeared across Gojo’s face. “How would you feel if I was?”

“I’d probably have to just . . . ask you to leave.”

“There’s no need, sweetheart,” Gojo said softly, “I’m running out of time anyway. But that’s no way to treat a fan, is it?”

You gulped. You stared deeply into his eyes.

“You’re, um,” you said shakily, “you’re allowed to hug me before you go . . . if you want.”

“Come here, then.”

The tall man wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. The hug lasted longer than it should have.

“I’d love to spend more time with you,” Gojo whispered. “Maybe some other time.”

As he pulled away, you felt him slip something into your pocket.

“It was nice meeting you,” you said.

He left without another word.

Your meet-and-greet lasted for two entire hours after that, and throughout every single interaction with a fan of yours, you couldn't help but wonder what the handsome man slipped into your pocket.

Finally, as your event came to an end, you reached into your pocket and found a yellow sticky note.

Written on it was an address, a hotel room number, and his name.

—

Any sane person who valued their safety and their life would have ignored it. Toss the note in the trash. But you found yourself standing outside of his hotel room door, and for the first time in your entire life, you were nervous about meeting a fan.

You knocked on the door, your breath shaky as you did so.

“This is insane,” you thought.

Half of you wanted to run away before he answered. The other half of you wanted to stay.

But, before you could truly decide, he opened the door, standing there with a genuine look of surprise.

“Huh,” Gojo smirked, stepping to the side to let you into his room. “You actually came.”

It was all an act; the cool, calm, and collected aura was a cover-up, for underneath it all, he was a mess of a man.

The sweaty palms that he secretly tried to wipe off on his pants. His throat dried to a crisp no matter how many bottles of water he downed before you knocked on his hotel room door, which was idiotic, because he ended up spending the last thirty minutes before your scheduled arrival running back and forth to the bathroom to pee.

However, after years of flashing a false smile in front of a classroom packed with moody teenagers during his darkest days, and dishonestly congratulating his martial arts students even when their kicks were less than splendid to encourage them and see them beam with confidence, Gojo had considerable expertise when it came to acting.

Of course, he was nervous.

It was you.

Even so, as his heart pounded rapidly inside of his chest, he was beyond thrilled about what was to come.

And who was to come.

“I knew you’d be surprised. I'm surprised as well.” Shutting the door after you entered his unexpectedly luxurious hotel room, you gulped, your eyes failing to meet his bright blue ones. “I don’t normally do stuff like this.”

“Sleep with fans?” Raising an eyebrow, Gojo’s cocky smirk turned into a rather kind smile.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I’m honored. I mean, just getting to meet you was something I wanted for a long time. And to know you’re actually gonna let me ruin you?” Slowly, he leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your cheek. “It’s a dream come true.”

“Are you really a fan of me?” You gave him a look of disbelief.

“Of course I am,” he mumbled. “Why? You don’t believe me?”

“You could have pretended to be a fan to get my attention or something, I don’t know.” You shrugged shyly, which was the cutest thing Gojo had probably ever seen. His cheeks started to burn from grinning so much.

“Trust me,” Gojo suddenly pressed his palm against your jaw, running his thumb across your cheek, stroking you delicately as if he were touching fragile flower petals. “I’ve watched every single video that you’ve ever posted, seen almost every photo, liked every tweet, and ignored all of your typos. I’ve read every single piece of fanfiction about you that I’ve come across online. Tried to write my own one time. It was shit, but still. I’m not really the kinda guy who likes to label myself, but if I’m not your biggest fan, then I don’t know who is.”

When he ran his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your soft bottom lip ever so gently, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to actually kiss you.

He wanted to do it.

Desperately.

Moonlit nights spent warm in his bed were when he alternated between his top five favorite scenarios, daydreaming about your first kiss as he drifted off to sleep. And, now, he would have the chance to feel your pillowy lips against his — and, god — they felt so perfect against his digit, he ended up chewing on his own bottom lip as he touched yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. “Please?”

“You’re my biggest fan, apparently, so you can do whatever you’d like.”

He pressed his lips against yours. Every single First Kiss! cliche he had seen in movies and read about in books — going on about fireworks and such — had a bit of truth to it, because when your buttery lips touched his, he instantly melted into the kiss.

It was as if he was born for the sole purpose of kissing you — like a god created his mind, body, and soul for that specific reason.

He moaned; it was strange, yet familiar, as he never made such a delicious, sinful noise whenever he kissed someone.

But then again, during late-night hookups with unsatisfying women, he wasn’t one to typically make any sort of noise.

Apparently, he only ever moaned if it had something to do with you.

Whether he was jerking off to your bikini photos on Instagram, or kissing you, as it would seem, only you could elicit such a beautiful sound from him.

And he wasn’t complaining. Not one bit.

“Gojo,” you mumbled softly against his lips. “Don’t be such a gentleman.”

“Trust me, I’m not.” Gojo's mouth hovered over yours as he spoke. “You have no idea how badly I wanna toss you on that bed right now. I just need to take my time with you and enjoy every minute. I’ve waited too long for this to happen, and I’m not gonna rush it.”

Despite his words, when he reconnected your lips, he kissed you hungrily.

Hurriedly.

His tongue entered your mouth as his hand held onto the back of your neck. It was such a messy kiss, but a passionate one as well, and only a man like Gojo could pull off both with a simple swirl of his tongue, which battled against yours.

And your mouth tasted absolutely delicious. He could hardly wait to taste your pussy as well, wondering how it could compare.

When Gojo’s other hand suddenly gripped your ass, a little gasp escaped from you, and he took that god-given opportunity to deepen the kiss.

If he could have his mouth attached to yours like this forever, wet tongues darting around as you swallowed each other’s moans, he would.

He didn’t want to pull apart to breathe, didn’t want to pause for even a moment and detach his lips from yours, but he did.

He pulled away, but only so he could leave kisses along your jawline.

“Gojo,” you whined, lifting your neck to give the tall man full access to your sensitive skin.

And when those skillful lips of his found that sweet spot right underneath your jaw, he licked and sucked at it as if he’d absolutely die if he didn’t.

“You’re whining like that just from me giving you a little hickey?” Gojo mumbled against your wet skin. “Now I’m curious about the kinda noises you’ll make once I eat your pussy. I won’t lie; I’m pretty excited.”

“Then just do it already,” whining once more, you gripped his shoulders as he started to make his way down your neck, leaving kisses across your collarbone.

“Patience,” Gojo said.

And when he spoke, he spoke as if he wasn’t truly freaking out on the inside.

His idol was desperate for him.

If he didn’t believe in luck before, he surely did now.

Gojo’s large hands, which were formerly roaming your body, pulled your top off swiftly, including your bra. If only he could take your bra with him as a souvenir.

It took all of his strength to not drool at the sight of your hard nipples.

God, were they perfect.

They were certainly magnificent enough to make any previous plans for having patience and taking his time with you flutter out of his lustful mind, as only a few seconds after removing your shirt, you were laying on the bed with Gojo hovering over your tits. He bit his lip in anticipation.

“Can I suck on them?” He asked, his eyes never once glancing away from your chest. “Please?”

“Yes-”

You were interrupted by a sudden gasp falling from your lips, as Gojo attached his mouth to your hard nipple as soon as you mumble that simple little word.

“Hmm,” he moaned.

First, he licked at your nipple while flicking your other one with his finger. Then, he took it into his mouth, sucking on it as he listened to your soft moans, which was a sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Repeating his actions with your other nipple, he smiled against your tit when you suddenly ran your hand through his hair.

As badly as he wanted to fuck you, the thought of simply laying on your chest on a lazy Sunday afternoon as you ran your fingers across his scalp sounded like a dream.

It sounded like love.

He wanted that with you too.

Gojo took off your pants. He took off his shirt.

Then, he left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he made his way in between your legs. Having the honor of looking at your pussy was comparable only to walking through the golden gates of Heaven.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds.

Like a starved man diving into a Thanksgiving dinner, Gojo spread your lips apart, and started to lick your clit.

Even with your back arched, fingers running through his hair as you moaned and moaned, Gojo was certain that he was enjoying it even more.

The hand that was formerly holding the wet lips of your pussy open made its way down to his dick, and he rubbed his clothed dick while moaning against your sensitive button, which he licked at rapidly with his wet tongue.

“Hmm, oh — baby,” he moaned and moaned.

“Gojo,” you whimpered.

He looked up at you through those long eyelashes of his. He was actually going to make you cum all over his tongue.

Excitement ran through his veins like a drug. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking on it until your delicious juice flooded his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you squealed, thrashing around as he refused to snatch himself away from your pussy. Not until all of your creamy mess was all licked up.

Wasting even a drop of your cum was an outright sin. One he would never forgive himself over.

He detached himself from your pussy with a little smack, licking his lips as he sat up.

Gojo started to unbuckle his belt. “You ready?”

You nodded, but once he pulled his pants down, the sight of his large cock made you gulp.

But you should have known.

He was tall. Large hands. Large feet. Large cock, of course.

Gojo pressed his tip against your folds, rubbing the head of cock up and down your wet hole, collecting your juices as he worked his way from your hole to your clit repeatedly.

The very split second in which his cock was pressed against your entrance was a telltale sign that you had never taken a dick that was as big as his.

It managed to put your past partners to shame.

And your purple dildo too.

“It’s too big,” you whined, blinking up at him.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Gojo rested his hard member against your hole. “I’m gonna make it fit, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for me and take it, right?”

You were getting impatient. The urge to feel him fill you up was undeniably strong, but also, his urge to take his time with you was equally as powerful.

“Only if you be a good fanboy for me,” you frowned, “and put it in.”

“I had no idea you’d be so impatient,” Gojo smiled, but even so, he still didn’t move. Not yet.

“Don’t tease me,” you said.

“Tease you?” Gojo ran his hand along your thigh, and your frown deepened. “I’m just taking my time. Not my fault you’re so-”

“Maybe I should’ve picked another fan.”

Gojo suddenly shoved himself inside of you.

Screw how much he wanted to savor the moment. If you wanted to be fucked right now, fast and hard, then he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

After kindly letting your pussy adjust to his size, he increased his speed.

The bed squeaked from his thrusts. He pressed his forehead against yours, his warm breath patting against your face as he moaned softly.

“Faster,” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Oh, did he obey.

He not only fucked you at a harsher speed, but he repositioned himself so that he could thrust in and out of you roughly.

He anticipated the noise complaint he’d receive from the hotel staff already. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about anything except for how good your pussy felt around his cock, and as his moans increased in volume, all of his thoughts slowly fluttered out of his pretty little head.

He couldn’t focus on anything aside from the pleasure.

He just loved you so much. Your content had changed him as a person, shaped his life into something worth living, and now, here he was, thriving in the utter pleasure you gave him. It melted away his cocky attitude, and he gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Gojo said. “I . . . god, I need . . .”

He was begging for something and nothing at the same time, just so desperate and pathetic for you, you, you.

Suddenly, you pushed on Gojo’s shoulders.

“Let’s switch,” you bit your lip. “I wanna ride you.”

He could have cried. You wanted to ride him? Only a fool would turn down that opportunity, and he was quickly on his back as you climbed over him.

“That’s it, pretty baby. Get on top of me.” His large hands gripped your perfect ass, and instantly, he dreaded the very moment when he’d have to eventually let go. His eyes — which glistened with lust without any decency and excitement without any substances — darted down to your wet hole sinking his aching cock. “Oh — put it in. Put it in.”

“Now who’s impatient?” You smirked, but you couldn’t tease him for long, as when his big cock entered you, your mouth flung open with utter shock over how full you felt.

Perhaps, it was foolish to believe that his size was something you’d get used to after he pounded your pussy into oblivion moments before.

Slowly, but surely, you started to bounce up and down along his length. Those bright eyes of his, which were now fixated on your beautiful boobs, fluttered closed as he tossed his head back.

“Oh my fucking god,” he moaned. “Feels so damn good. You’re so perfect, you know that? Keep bouncing on my cock, baby. Just like that.”

He went on and on, more heartfelt words pouring out of his mouth with every jolt of your body.

“I’m so obsessed with you,” he continued, “I can’t lose you after this, I can’t. I can’t, baby. You’re fucking me so good, please…”

He whimpered, which was utterly shocking to him, but it made your walls clench around his dick. His desperation turned you on in unimaginable ways, as now, he was revealing his true colors underneath the false chill and cool persona, and he was nothing more than a pathetic, cute, little fanboy.

“I love you,” a tear slipped down his cheek from utter delight. “I love you so much. Stay with me, I’ll do anything. I want you all to myself.”

“So, so, devoted to me, huh?” You said breathlessly, yet sweetly.

Truth be told, his cock felt so wonderful thrusting in and out of you, it would have been entirely unshocking if you ended up being addicted to him as well.

“I’m gonna cum-” Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist, bucking his hip up to fuck you as deeply as possible. “I’m so close — I’m right there. I can’t hold it, sweetheart, I-I can’t keep it in much longer.”

“Cum for me, Gojo.” You whispered. “Be good for your little idol, yeah? Tell me how much you wanna cum.”

“So badly,” he swallowed thickly, beads of sweat forming across his forehead, his white hair sticking to his salty skin. He was starting to become dizzy from the way your pussy worked on his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back. “I . . . Oh fuck.”

White ropes of his creamy cum exploded out of his dick, shooting inside of you with such urgency and desperation, that a light shade of pink dusted across his cheeks from utter embarrassment.

The white-haired man’s cock twitched. It throbbed until every last drop of semen filled your insides, and broken moans poured out of his throat.

“So much of it,” he softly whined, burying his reddened face in your neck. “I’m sorry.”

His cum spilled out of your pussy. It trickled down until it drenched the white sheets underneath you both, but Gojo’s hips continued to lazily buck up, sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin as he fucked his cum right back inside of you.

—

After taking a few moments to catch your breaths, you and Gojo were right back at it, going round after round until the sun rose, marking the very next day.

The teacher, who had fallen asleep somewhere around 5 A.M., awakened with a shiver shooting up his spine from the chilly hotel room air. And it made sense why, as he was completely naked.

But when he realized that you weren’t in bed with him, nor were your clothes tangled up on the ground along with his, he frowned.

Was it a dream? No. He knew it really happened. Perhaps, he was a fool to think that you’d stay with him, that you both would wake up together and shower before ordering some breakfast via room service.

You were a celebrity, he was simply a fan, and there was no hope for-

Suddenly, a yellow sticky note fell off of Gojo’s chest.

Written on it was your phone number, and a little heart.

—

When Gojo returned home two days later, he collapsed in his rolling chair, exhaling a deep breath followed by an airy laugh.

Even as he opened his laptop and logged onto his blog, he couldn’t believe his luck. The ultimate fanboy, he was.

Half of him contemplated the idea of creating a guide for every other hopeful man with an appetite geared exclusively towards their idol, but in his gut — which twisted with excitement whenever he thought about you creaming all over his cock so deliciously — he knew that he was simply a lucky man.

A lottery winner. The chosen one.

Even if he got an imaginary Master’s Degree in the study of Banging-Your-Idol, and went on to write nonfiction self-help books to aid all of his followers, they would all still fail to accomplish what he did.

However, even if he couldn’t create a guide to help out every other horny and helpless individual, he could still do one thing.

Brag.

And with that, after taking a screenshot of the recent notification that appeared across his screen — showing that your popular, verified account had followed him back — he started typing.

—

kinggojo: hey guys (: none of you are gonna believe what just happened…

♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

♡ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

🏷: @downforsanji @robynnnhooddd @ritsatoru @natalie-san @mikkies @sunjayist @blkwriters @shigemis0ra @whippedbyikemen @arizzu @staubmotte @mokonasenpaiposts @whats-humanity-lol @mbappesgirlfriend @satoruscurse @bear-likes-mushrooms @rinxgojo @arcswonderland @torusmochi @huang-the-geek @ivytears @salmasalamoon @ackachii @ploylulla @1989-taylors @heiixou @roronoaswifey @yourmumsthings @brownskin-bunny @arisucat @dreamtravelersade @hottiewifeyyyy @levin4nami @dazailover1900 @gojomaki @chosogatitos @hoshigaby @trawberry-fire @potofstewie @mx-mekla

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[thesongoficeandfir3]

The wine, the nameday and the drunk wife

A gift for @venusbyline / @venusthedreamer

Who’s birthday was yesterday!!! Sweet birthday babyyyy ❤️❤️❤️ I’m not an Aemond girlie but I had to for you!

P.s Anyone can read, no description for y/n is used just reader is fem

Warnings: sex alluded, drunk reader

Prompt: Reader indulges a bit too much alcohol on her nameday and needs her always level headed husband to take care of her

You let out a high pitched laugh as you were being spun around to the rhythm of the music, constantly switching partners getting a chance to dance with every lord and lady who decided to partake. As the music sped up so did the dancing you thought you’d throw up at this point, but you didn’t care because you felt like you were having the time of your life.

Aemond sat by himself at the high table, his mother and sister retiring to bed ages ago. He peered down at the dance floor, a very faint ghost like smile on his face as he looked at how happy you were. Aemond hated celebrations, the mixture of hate coming from how his brother always forced him to go , they were too loud and he hated alcohol since it rid him of his senses. All in all if it were anyone else’s nameday even his own family he’d be in his chamber head in a book trying to expand his already impressive intellect. Since it was your nameday however, his precious, beautiful wife he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Once the song ended your face felt flushed and hot, your head pounding and your feet throbbing yet the strong effects of arbor red made it feel like nothing. You made your way over or rather walked like a fawn learning how to walk for the first time to Aemond. Tripping over your own feet and the dress Helaena designed and gifted, a long beautiful gown of your favorite color with your favorite animals (her own stitch work ) embroidered to the skirt of the dress, didn’t make walking any easier.

You finally made it over to your husband but then the dress finally caught up to you and you were about to head face first to the floor, but Aemond was swift and alert. He quickly got to his feet his strong arms reaching out firmly yet gently gripping your biceps stopping you from falling. He then guided you to sit his hands still holding onto you only letting go when he was sure you were stable.

Despite coming seconds to rearranging your face your reaction to it all was to laugh loudly.

“My those Tyrells know how to party don’t they?” You giggled out, hand on your cheek feeling how hot you were getting.

Aemond took the pitcher of water from the table and a cloth, pouring the contents onto it and ringing out the excess water. He then placed it on your head which caused you to flinch from the sudden frigidness but relaxed once it felt cooling.

“Mayhaps we shall retire to our chambers mhm?” His deep voice smooth and gentle, not trying to sound like he was forcing you but rather recommending it.

“Nooo” you whined out “look around tis barely the hour of the wolf!” You say as you dramatically throw your hands in the air.

When Aemond looked around he was met with nobles either starting to spill out, asleep or laughing their heads off completely out of it. Hells even Aegon was slouched over a table dead asleep, his cup of wine spilled all over the table which said a lot.

Aemond was not a controlling partner to you, he was more so afraid you’d get more drunk and he would turn his back for just a second and something would happen to you. The lengths he would go and the lines he would cross if anything happened to you. So he had to be a little more insistent that he normally was, placing his hands under your armpits he began to hoist you up, not too surprised he was met with a little resistance but was still able to get you on your feet. He wrapped an arm around your waist to act as a pillar and walked you two out the throne room.

“My feet hurt” you whine.

“No one told you to dance with no breaks in between” he lightly scolded.

You just whine in response and make it as though your bones were made of liquid, so he was practically dragging you at this point.

Aemond sighed your bed chambers was still a good walk from here, he had half the mind to keep dragging you since you wanted to act childish but the other half didn’t. He decided to pick you up, carrying you bridal style and you immediately snuggled into his warmth not knowing how badly you wanted to sleep till now.

When you enter your chamber it was a difficult path to the bed due to the stacks and stacks of coffers containing the many gifts he got you. He made a mental note to have the maids move them somewhere else the morrow. Once at the bed he gently lays you onto it and gets to work to reduce you to your small clothes so you may sleep comfortably. Once the dress slid off and pooled to the ground he heard a giggle.

“You little wench, you already gave me that gift soon as I woke up,” Aemond frowns and lightly pinched your hip his way of telling you behave but you just giggled and began to straddle him in a heartbeat. “ but I’m not

complaining.”

His eye widen and face pink as you got to work to unbutton his doublet rolling your hips against him simultaneously which immediately caused a certain reaction. Even though you two were married he still did not want to take advantage of you in this state, but when he was about to take you off. You got up and dashed to the balcony immediately throwing up all what you had throughout the night over the rails.

You felt the gentle touch of Aemond on the small of your back and him pulling back your hair so you wouldn’t throw up on it.

“I’m so disgusting.” You groaned out.

“A little.” He quipped wiping your mouth then giving you some water to rinse and drink.

“To bed?” You groggily said out alas ready to end the night.

“To bed.” he smiles as he helps you back, already knowing how he’d have a field day tomorrow reminding you of what you did.

[dorabellingham]

Overprotect

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when you are in the last months of pregnancy and he is being super protective and worried about everything

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You sighed heavily, sinking on the sofa in the living room with an exhausted expression. The eighth month of pregnancy was being cruel - your back hurt all the time, the heat seemed unbearable and finding a comfortable sleeping position was practically impossible. To make matters worse, Jude was more overprotective than ever.

-Darling, do you need anything? His voice echoed from the kitchen, worried as always.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to convince yourself that answering "no" would be enough for him to stop treating you as if you were made of glass. But the truth was that you really needed something.

—Water, please.

You asked, defeated.

In less than a minute, Jude was already at the room with a glass in his hand.

-Here, babe.

He said, handing over the glass and sitting next to him on the couch.

You took a sip and sighed, feeling a little relief in your dry throat. Jude, on the other hand, didn't seem satisfied.

-Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to do a massage? Or maybe a hot shower? Or...

-Jude. -You raised a hand, interrupting the flood of suggestions. -I'm pregnant, not sick.

He sighed, clearly trying to control himself.

-I know. But it's just that... I hate to see you uncomfortable and not being able to do anything.

You looked at him, your expression softening.

-You already do a lot, babe. You take care of me more than I could ask for.

He smiled small, but still looked restless. Then, without warning, he got up and took a cushion, fixing it behind your back.

-Better?

You laughed, shaking your head.

-Yes, better.

He didn't stop there. He took another cushion and put it on her lap, helping you to better accommodate your belly.

-And now?

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave that you were loving his care.

-Now it's perfect, Mr. Bellingham.

Jude settled on the couch, passing an arm around your shoulders and letting the other hand rest on your belly.

-You're already almost nine months... -He murmured, sliding his fingers lightly over the skin of your belly. -There's so little time for our baby to arrive.

You felt your heart tighten when you saw the sparkle in his eyes. Jude was so excited to be a father, so ready. He talked about the baby every day, touched your belly as if it were your greatest treasure and looked at you with a mixture of love and gratitude that made you feel like the most special person in the world.

-Are you ready to be a father?

You asked softly.

He looked at you, surprised by the question.

-I don't think I'll ever feel ready, you know? But I want to. I want more than anything else.

Your gaze softened, and you ran your fingers through his jaw, feeling the thin beard that began to grow there.

-You're going to be an amazing father, Jude.

He smiled, lightly squeezing you waist.

-And you're going to be the best mother in the world, darling.

You opened your mouth to answer, but a hook on your back made you shrink.

-Oh...

Jude was on alert at the same time.

-What was it, Y/n?! Are you feeling something?!

You let out a frustrated moan.

-My back. They're killing me.

He didn't waste time.

-Come here. Sit on your side.

—Jude...

-C'mon, babe, sit here!

He insisted softly, already getting ready on the couch so that you could settle down there.

You, knowing that arguing would be useless, straightened up on your side, feeling his warm and firm hand begin to massage your back firmly, but without hurting you.

-Better now?

He asked, while his fingers worked to relieve the tension.

You closed your eyes, relaxing against his touch.

-Very much.

Jude smiled satisfied, continuing the movements while watching his wife surrender to relief.

-Do you have any idea how much I love you?

He murmured against your ear.

You smiled, your eyes still closed.

-I Have. And I have no idea how much you spoil me.

He laughed, gently kissing the back of your neck.

-I'll always pamper you. You and our baby.

You sighed, feeling safe in his arms. The eighth month of pregnancy could be difficult, but with Jude by your side, everything seemed a little easier.

[ncis-nerd]

Christmas Cheer

new au alert

Ship: Wife WandaNat x Reader // Platonic Kate & Reader // Brief mention of Kate x Yelena

Warnings: Mentions of Christmas, working in retail, the festive season, winter, alluding to reader being anemic.

About: Christmas time is the best time of the year for most, you love the generosity of people during this season. The Christmas movies, the hot chocolate, gift giving and most of all, spending time with the people you love. 

You hummed softly to the Christmas jingle playing in the background. You loved your job, you loved your elderly boss who would show you pictures of her grandchildren, your friend/co-worker Kate who you would spend your lunch break with. Going with you to your favorite Chinese Takeout place.

You loved your job but sometimes you regretted working retail at a toy shop during the Christmas season. Not to get you wrong, you loved seeing the joy on the kids faces, the sparkle in their eye when they got their heart set on a toy they really wanted. And you loved the magic of the festive season but it could be overwhelming sometimes. 

Stressed parents running on low energy and little sleep, desperate to find the popular toy their kid wants, searching endless stores just for the toy to be sold out. You couldn't blame them.

You didn't realize you were staring at these two women looking at the window's display of toys. They smiled softly, one woman had on this red and white knitted hat with reindeer on it. The other had a long coat on. You saw her whisper to the woman with the hat. The woman with the hat had a hot chocolate in her hand.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Kate waved her hand in front of your face. “Huh?” You returned your attention to the raven haired girl.

“I said, do you want to go on lunch right now?” Kate asked as a low growl sounded from her stomach. You chuckled softly at the warning from your friend’s stomach that she was hungry.

“Sure! Let me just grab my coat and we can go.” You nodded, heading to the back room where your locker was. 

As you zipped up your red puffy jacket, Kate appeared in the doorway. “Ready?” She asked. You nodded as the two of you made your way to the Chinese restaurant. 

“It's so cold I can see my breath!” Kate exclaimed, exhaling only to be greeted with a small trail of fog exiting her mouth. You shivered in your layers which consisted of your hat, gloves, scarf, sweater, shirt, second shirt, pants and thermal pants. You got cold easily and instead of complaining all the time (which you still do by the way), you learnt that layering up helps you stay warm. Your mom had told you many times “I don't know how you can do it, I could never wear that many layers” but you shrugged her off. 

“We're here! I can smell the food!” Kate smiled as she opened the door to Tony's. Tony's is the name of the Chinese Takeout restaurant you and Kate go to. You've been going there ever since the first day you were hired. You can still remember it vividly. You were sitting in the backroom eating your pb&j sandwich when Kate came in and introduced herself. The two of you were around the same age, the rest of your co-workers were way older than you guys so Kate made the decision to talk to you and become friends. From that day on, you guys have been going to Tony's for lunch. 

Now that it's December, Tony's is more crowded. Especially since they came out with their Christmas themed menu, families and teenagers lined up to get something. 

Thankfully, there was no one when you and Kate went. If there was, you feared Kate's stomach might explode. 

“Hi there ladies, table for 2?” Steve smiled, as he picked up two menus. “Yup!” You nodded. “Is that Kate and Y/N?” You heard Clint's voice from the kitchen.

Clint was a chef who worked at Tony's, he had cooked if not all the meals you and Kate shared there, than most. In your time going to Tony's, you had gotten to know Clint well, you know he has a wife and two young daughters who sometimes come to visit him during his break.

“Yeah!” Steve responded. “Hello Kate, hello Y/N. How's the shift going?” Clint had a warm smile on his face. “Work's going well, how are things here?” You spoke. “Same old, same old. I assume you two want your regular?” Clint nodded. “Yeah, better make it quick. Kate here is starving.” You smirked. “Hey! I'm not starving!” Kate whined. You looked at her with a chuckle as she proved her own point with the whining. 

Clint led you two to your table. “Food should be out shortly” Clint nodded as he left. Your eyes scanned the room. You noticed a family sitting at one of the circular booth tables. The little girl had on a pink tutu and an orange shirt. The mom was on the phone and the dad was holding the brother. The little girl made eye contact with you and waved. You smiled softly and waved back.

Clint returned with your water and Kate’'s coffee and placed it down on the table. There was a soft red tint on Kate's face, you could tell she was texting her girlfriend, Yelena.

That's when you noticed the couple from the toy store had entered the restaurant. The blonde was taking off her hat as the woman in the long coat took her friend's hand and rubbed her hands together, to warm it up. You smiled softly at this gesture, you loved seeing how the holiday spirit brought people together.

Clint led the two ladies to the 2 seater tables right by you and Kate. “Thank you” the woman with the hat spoke, with a thick Sokovian accent. “Of course. Can I get you started on drinks?” Clint spoke. “I would like the bloody mary” the other woman spoke, her voice laced in a thick Russian accent.

“And for you ma'am?” Clint looked at the blonde. “Hot chocolate is fine. Thanks.” She nodded. Clint left once again, to make their drinks this time.

“This place is nice” the blonde spoke. “Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо.” the Russian responded. 

The Russian's eyes fell on you, you quickly looked away. Hoping that she didn't notice your staring. 

“Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь.” the Russian's attention focused back on the woman sitting across from her. 

You wondered what she was saying. Right on cue, Clint comes out with your chicken lo mein and Kate's fried rice.

“That looks so good, my mouth is literally watering right now” Kate moaned. You giggled at her reaction. 

“I wish you a Merry Christmas” filled the silence in the restaurant as your phone went off. In that moment you regretted your ringtone. “Hello?” You answered. “Hi Y/N, I'm so sorry to disturb you from your lunch break but it’s so busy in here right now and we could sure use you and Kate back here at the store” You felt bad you guys were understaffed today and it probably didn't help that you and Kate took your lunch break at the same time. “Of course, I’ll let Kate know. We should be back shortly.” You hung up. 

Kate groaned, “Nooo.. I’m so hungry.” You frowned apologetically, “Sorry Kate, Elaine needs us back. She said there’s a big crowd in there right now.” You signaled for Clunt to return. “Hey, can you make this a to-go. Kate and I have to return to work unfortunately.” You said as Clint took the food away.

You zipped back up your coat and collected your belongings as you and Kate walked up to the register.

“Have a good one and stay warm, alright?” Clint spoke.

Google Translate:

Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо. - Yes, the lighting is beautiful and the menu looks good.

Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь. - The cute girl from the toy store is here.

[jaysng]

when your daughter is sick | pjs

pairing: husband!dad!jay x wife!reader

genre: angsty fluff

synopsis: Jay wakes to find his daughter feverish and restless. Together with you, you tenderly care for her, soothing her back to sleep with medicine and comforting words, determined to see her through the night.

note: SORRY this is doesn’t match the theme bc i js wanted to use these icons bc they look too good, cldn’t find anything bluey-bluey :(

Jay stirs awake, the weight of sleep still heavy on his eyelids. It’s the middle of the night, and the room is quiet, save for a soft, persistent sound near his neck—“mhm mhm mhm.” He feels a warmth pressed against his skin, something almost too hot for comfort.

His body instinctively tenses, not yet fully awake but already alert to the unfamiliar sensation. Without fully sitting up, Jay lifts his head slightly, just enough to glance down. 

His daughter is curled up against him, her small frame pressed tightly to his side. Even in the dim light, he can see her face scrunched in discomfort, her cheeks flushed with an unsettling heat.

A soft sigh escapes him, his heart tightening as he gently brushes a hand over her back, feeling the warmth radiating from her small body. The muttering hums of frustration continue, little whimpers that tug at his heartstrings. 

Jay’s mind starts to race, but he forces himself to stay calm. He’s always been good at masking his emotions, especially when it comes to her, but the worry gnaws at him all the same.

He stays still for a moment, listening to her soft sounds, trying to figure out the best way to comfort her without fully waking her up. The last thing he wants is to disrupt her rest more than necessary. 

Beside him, the bed shifts, and you stir, your hand instinctively reaching out for your daughter. Your eyes open slowly, blinking against the darkness. “Jay, is she okay?” you whisper, your voice thick with sleep but laced with concern.

“She’s warm,” Jay replies quietly, his eyes meeting yours. He knows you can see the worry in his gaze, even if he’s trying not to let it show. “I’m going to get her some water and medicine.”

You nod, already moving to sit up, brushing your fingers gently through your daughter’s hair. “I’ll help.”

Jay watches you for a moment, admiring the way you move with such care and tenderness. You’re both tired, but the instinct to care for her overrides everything else. He slips out of bed, moving quietly across the room to retrieve a glass of water and the fever medicine the doctor prescribed. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if by keeping busy he can keep the anxiety at bay.

When he returns, you’ve already shifted your daughter into a more comfortable position, holding her close to your chest. She stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before closing again, too exhausted to stay awake.

Jay sits down beside you, passing you the medicine and water. He watches as you carefully coax her to take a few sips, your voice soft and soothing, a comfort even in the middle of the night.

“She’s such a strong little girl,” you murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from your daughter’s forehead.

Jay nods, his hand resting on your back, drawing small circles to offer some comfort to you as well. “She gets it from you,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet admiration.

After she takes the medicine, her little body seems to relax, the tension slowly easing away as the fever starts to break. Jay gently wipes the sweat from her forehead with a cool towel, his touch tender and careful, trying not to disturb her more than necessary.

For a few moments, the room is silent, save for the sound of your daughter’s breathing gradually evening out. Jay lets out a slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tightness in his chest loosening just a little.

He sits there for a while longer, his eyes never leaving her, as if by sheer will he can make sure she’ll be okay. You lean into him, and he wraps an arm around you, holding both of you close. 

“Let’s try to get some rest,” he murmurs, though he knows sleep won’t come easily, not until he’s sure she’s out of the woods.

You nod, and together you gently lay her down between you, tucking the blankets around her. Jay hums softly, the same lullaby he’s sung to her countless times before, and you join in, your voices mingling in the quiet of the night. The familiar melody seems to ease her discomfort, her little body finally settling into a peaceful sleep.

He stays awake for a while longer, his hand resting protectively on her back, feeling the rise and fall of her breaths. His thoughts are a jumble of concern and quiet reassurances, but as the night wears on, he feels a small sense of relief. She’ll be okay, and with you by his side, he knows you’ll get through this together.

[starmocha]

Part of my sing little birdie aka birb dad + birb baby series, but I'm yapping bullet points real quick (idk I may rewrite this into a proper story one day. I'm trying to stay focused and in a specific mindset rn for my dragon!Sylus AU 😔👍). Something about the last part of Sylus' event triggered this thought, so let's get into it.

Taking Little Birdie to the Amusement Park

It's Sylus' daughter's first time at the amusement park. She is three and excited, but not because of the rides and attractions

It's one of the rare occasions where she has both mom and dad together spending time with her

Sylus lavishes his daughter with attention and indulges in her whims

If baby girl wants Daddy to wear silly headbands and glasses, then he will in a heartbeat

He buys her whatever she wants at giftshops even if she doesn't ask

Man is basically doing the "buying my child whatever she touches" trend (MC is exasperated once she finds out, but lets it go since this is a special day for their family)

He is the one riding the rides with her as MC photographs everything

He lifts her onto her chosen horse on the carousel and stays by her side

"So, my little birdie, this is the trusty steed you have chosen? A fine horse indeed."

Baby girl is having the time of her life on kiddie rides

The best part about having a tall dad is riding his shoulders. Little Miss has the best view at the park. 🥹🫶

Sylus isn't concerned about losing her.

Onychinus henchmen are lurking around the park posing as guests, staff members, or mascots 😭👍

Personal babysitters bodyguards Luke and Kieran are always nearby to keep their eyes on their precious Little Miss

Dressed as Smiley Dino and Sunny Dino, they are suffocating in their suits (rip 😔), but Little Miss' laughter and excitement makes it all worth it

"Daddy, Daddy, Smiley Dino and Sunny Dino hugged me!"

(Later Luke & Kieran @ MC: say Miss Hunter...would it be possible if we get copies of that photo? 👉👈)

Mephisto is also always perched near the toddler to keep an eye on her and will report to Sylus about any concerns

You do not want to mess with this bird. He has beef with pigeons on a daily basis. 💀 He won't hesitate to take you on either not to mention Sylus is always giving him weird upgrades

Basically don't mess with this child. She has the protection of Onychinus and you do not want to meet her dad. Or worse. Her mom.

Around mid-afternoon, nap time is near. It's been hours at the park, lots of overindulgence, lots of walking. The sun is blazing hot, and baby girl is dozing off on Sylus' shoulder trying to stay awake.

He and MC find a nice shady area to rest for a bit and just have a nice quiet family/couple moment as their daughter naps in Sylus' arms

In the evening they have a meal at one of the restaurants as a family. Baby girl is rambling excitedly about her favorite parts of the day (spoiler alert: it's everything)

"Mommy...Daddy...can we do today again? 🥺"

Sylus & MC:

When there is a fireworks show, baby girl is sitting on Sylus' shoulders pointing at the sky in awe

Sylus leans down to MC, asking with a smirk, "Remember the last time we watched fireworks at that restaurant together?"

"Mommy, Daddy, look, look!"

Little birdie doesn't even realize she is tugging on her dad's hair. Sylus laughs it off. Her joy is his joy.

Sylus isn't really paying attention to the fireworks. He gazes at his wife's awestruck expression and smiles as his daughter laughs. He wonders if he had traded away all of his bad luck because right now, in this moment, he felt pretty damn lucky.

He hopes this is a core memory for his daughter, but even if she grows up and forgets this day, Sylus won't. This memory will stay with him for the rest of his life, her laughter and smiles were his to keep, his to cherish.

(As for the rest of Onychinus, this is their core memories, seeing their precious Little Miss having the family day she deserves 😭🫶)

[nayaacknndy]

"as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you."

The sound of the keyboard echoed in the quiet room, the light from the laptop illuminated the face of the man in his late thirties in that dimly lit room, the glasses provided a reflection of the screen as he did the rest of his work, The silence of the night was deafening, but it made his hearing senses sound clearer to be alert.

A sound of the door creaking was heard, making him turn towards the source of the sound, thinking it was his wife, but it turned out to be just their cat, it meowed softly, approached him and climbed onto his table.

"There, buddy." He stroked its head, making the cat purr, but soon after, the cat meowed, looking at him with its gray eyes.

Leon didn't really understand or realize that look, until he heard the sound of breaking glass, making him jolted and immediately rushed out of his study, ran down the stairs in a hurry, and saw her there, his wife, one hand gripping the edge of the table, and the other touching her face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, babe." As soon as Leon pulled her into his arms, he could feel Noah's body shaking, her skin felt cold, he could already guess what she was feeling right now. Anxiety and possibility of PTSD.

Ignoring the broken glass to calm her down first, their cat who had been following Leon now climbed onto the dining table, sitting quietly watching them as if it had previously told him something was wrong with her.

"It's okay... I'm here now, always be right here with you." Leon kept trying to calm him down. While Noah remained silent, as if her emotions were struggling inside her head.

The warmth of Leon's body warmed her body and heart, making her lower her own ego, with hands still trembling and hesitant, she returned Leon's hug, burying her face in Leon's chest. Leon stroked her hair, while his hands were still tightly hugging her.

Leon cupped Noah's face, staring into the red and amber irises he admired. "I'll clean up the broken glass and let you have your hot chocolate, just wait a minute for me, okay, honey?" Leon smiled, giving Noah a small peck on her cheeks.

Leon did his job, cleaning up the glass shards and wrapping them safely for disposal, then made Noah the drink she wanted. Meanwhile, Noah, who was watching Leon silently, felt a soft touch on her shoulder, turning her head to see their black cat trying to get her attention by gently rubbing its paw on her cheek too, so Noah carried the cat in her arms, her expression was still hard to read, as if Noah herself was still confused about how she should react.

Some time later Leon finished making Noah hot chocolate, leading Noah to their bedroom as a comfortable place for Noah to calm down. Once inside, Leon closed the door softly, leading Noah to sit on the bed after which he put down the mug of hot chocolate, stroked Noah's cheek to keep trying to calm her down while Leon sat beside Noah, holding her hand in an attempt to let her know that she was not alone.

"You're not going to keep silent, are you?" Leon asked, his eyes still glued to her face while Noah looked pensive as she held the cat who kept looking at her face too. "You sometimes forget my duties as a husband."

Those words managed to make Noah turn her head towards Leon, a little confused look, a warm smile on Leon's face indicated that Noah didn't need to hide herself anymore, telling her that it was okay to involve him, it's okay to be herself around him.

The dark and dead gaze told him that Leon was right, the gaze that had no sparkle made his heart ache, with a faint smile of understanding, Leon shifted to adjust his position on the bed, pulling Noah into his arms as he half leaned against the headboard.

"Leon." Noah called, his voice soft, Leon hums softly, letting her know that Leon was listening.

"Am I Lycus?"

"No, you're Noah." Leon said, stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of Noah's head, the woman did not take her hands off the cat. "You're still Noah to me though you're as strong as a goddess."

"You are stronger than you think, though you feel fragile." Leon said, his voice and breath were enough to calm Noah down at this moment.

"I am weak–"

"No, you're not, darling." Noah was silent, letting Leon's words sink in, her expression starting to weaken, but she didn't cry, her heart was pounding and her body felt hot and cold again.

"they said–"

"Mhm, not them." Leon cut her off, not letting Noah belittle herself. "You are special, you are strong, don't deny that."

Biting her lower lip, Noah took her hands off the cat to circle Leon's waist, closing her eyes, letting her ears rest on Leon's chest to listen to his heartbeat, making her calm down slowly.

Slowly, the images of her past faded back into Leon's arms, the burden on her shoulders fell off instantly, allowing her to surrender to Leon's love, allowing Leon to see her fragile side, allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of Leon, her husband.

His kisses, his voice, his breath, his heartbeat soothed her soul, makes her want to leave everything just to be near him, to feel the warmth that soothes her.

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you." Leon said, resting his cheek on the top of Noah's head once his woman had finally fallen asleep, followed by their cat who also seemed to calm down when it saw Noah getting better, lying between them.

"It's okay... Noah, don't worry, i'll be right here when you need it."

"Don't pretend to be strong in front of me when you're not, you are allowed to be weak in front of me, I love you for who you are and however you are."

—a/n : lmk if I misspell something, English is not my native language—

i bring a fanfic from oc x canon that i have (Lyceon is the ship name), im posting it here cuz usually on Insta, well... let's just say Insta hates me for typing long like this lol. so hope you like what i wrote, im not that good at writing, and made this in a hurry because it was already midnight, i'll revise this if there is something wrong :3

[miley1442111]

Hi my love!

I wanted to make a request, but please, don't feel any pressure to write it😊

So I was thinking a bau reader x Morgan where Morgan is being held at gunpoint somewhere where the team can't get in easily without alerting the unsub but they can see it on camera and the reader is just going feral trying to get to him and has to be held back by the rest of the team but they somehow manage to break away (not before socking someone in the face probably) and runs into the alley or something without a vest and doesn't even try to talk the guy down and just shoots him immediately. A fluffy moment between them and Morgan ensues and Morgan covers for them saying that the unsub wouldn't back down.

Again no pressure to write this

Have a lovely day ❤️

i love this idea, probably didn't do it justice, also my most sincere apologies for letting this rot in my inbox for so long :)

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take down- d.morgan

--------------------------------------

a/n: i love this idea, probably didn't do it justice, also my most sincere apologies for letting this rot in my inbox for so long :)

summary: you take down an unsub that is threatening your husband, derek morgan

pairings: derek morgan x fem! bau! wife! reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, reader kills someone, guns, etc.

--------------------------------------

Five words rang in your head. ‘Derek’, ‘gunpoint’, and ‘don’t go in’. 

What the fuck was Hotch playing at. Derek Morgan was the love of your life and Hotch thought you were going to stand by this monitor showing you the worst sight imaginable, him being held at gunpoint by an unsub who hated him so much he was willing to kill him. 

Fuck that. 

--------------------------------------

It wasn’t meant to hurt Aaron, but that right hook was meant to get his arms off of you and get him out of your way. He was collateral, you could deal with him later. What you couldn’t deal with was the fact that your husband was being held at gunpoint by a psychopath. You ran inside the building, Aaron and the rest of the team hot on your tail until the rest of the SWAT team stopped them. You were going in alone, and you couldn’t have cared less. Derek was in there, your Derek. You turned the corner, your eyes landing on the unsub and shot to kill. You didn’t care. He wasn’t safe, this unsub had been tracing and trying to track him down for months. The unsub hit the floor and with that, your adrenaline dropped. 

“Baby,” he rushed over to you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible. “I’m alright.”

“But h-he could’ve-” You started, tears falling onto his shirt but he hushed you. “I was so scared.”

“I’m alright, I promise,” he swore, cupping your cheeks to look at him. He had a cut on his eyebrow and he must’ve bled pretty heavily from it. “Now, are you ok?”

You’d never killed anyone before, Derek knew that. You nodded, trying to keep the vomit in your throat down. You’d killed a man. You shook your head and leaned against him. He held you, gentle and soft. Familiar. This was your Derek. The caring and kind man you almost had taken away from you. 

You held him closer. Hugged him tighter. 

--------------------------------------

You couldn’t even look at the rest of the team, but you did know you’d broken Aaron’s nose. You didn’t care, you’d apologise later. You refused to let Derek out of your sights, out of your hands. 

He helped you get ready for bed in your shared hotel room, showered you both, changed into pyjamas, made you brush your teeth, do skincare, and made you do your ten pages of reading. 

When the light turned out, his strong arms wrapped around you and some of that anxiety wilted. He was here. He was alive. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for today.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. 

--------------------------------------

“What were you two thinking?!” Aaron demanded, his seemingly eternal patience growing thin. 

“I didn’t have a choice, he was going to kill him,” you scoffed. “Did you want me to just watch my husband die?”

“He wasn’t backing down? You’re a negotiator, negotiate!” Aaron sighed as he sat down. “Morgan, did you genuinely think the unsub was going to kill you had Y/n not shot him?”

“Yes.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he gritted out. “You have three weeks of mandatory leave. Both of you.”

You didn’t mind. Neither did Derek.

--------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

[burningembers91]

Down by the Sea - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Sleeping with the Enemy

The Gangsters Wife

Escape Plan

Cabin in the Woods

Synopsis: You and Hwang Jun-Ho settle into your new life by the sea



The water was calm today, the gentle waves lapping the side of the small fishing boat. The weathered vessel bobbed lazily side to side, lulling Hwang Jun-Ho into a blissful sun-drenched haze. It was perfect weather today, warm, but not too hot and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day for fishing.

It had been eight months since your arrival in Samcheok, and life was almost perfect. Jun-Ho had secured a job on a small fishing trawler, spending his days out catching fresh fish for the town’s restaurants and cafes. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, and the pay wasn’t great, but he was happy. You’d taken a job as a cashier in a convenience store, the novelty of being able to earn your own money still not having worn off.

It had taken you days to arrive in town, having to stop every few hours as the car journey had been excruciating for you. You’d arrived in the dead of night, checking into the one tiny motel under assumed names. For all intents and purposes, you were now Mr and Mrs Jung, a young married couple from Busan. News of Jun-Ho’s wanted status hadn’t reached the tiny fishing port, and for the moment, you were safe.

You’d arrived with nothing but the clothes on your back, a few blankets and a camping stove and for the first few weeks, life was tough. Neither of you had any money, but the townspeople took pity on you, and provided you with clothes and food to see you through. The kindness you’d received from complete strangers has bowled you over. Nothing was too much for your new neighbours, and you integrated into your new life with relative ease.

You rented a tiny one room apartment overlooking the harbour, the place barely big enough for one of you, let alone two. But you were happy, and for the first time in years your life was full of love and laughter again.

Jun-Ho doted on you, pouring every ounce of love and affection into your relationship. You spent your nights cuddled up on your tiny bed, binging terrible reality TV while eating instant ramen. You made love most nights, entwined under your sheets as your soft moans melted into the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore.

Gone were your designer clothes and jewellery. You’d swapped Prada and Dior for jeans and pastel coloured cardigans, and your LouBoutin’s had been replaced by a pair of white sneakers. You ran along the beach every morning, the wind in your hair and Jun-Ho by your side. You were finally the living the dream, your life playing out like the most perfect movie.

When Jun-Ho had suggested you pretend to be a married couple, he’d gotten down on one knee.

“When this is all over,” he told you, “will you marry me?”

He’d woven a ring out of blades of grass, a tiny wild flower acting as the diamond centrepiece. That floral ring sat pride of place on your small mantle now, a symbol of the life that was still waiting for you. The grass and flower had withered and dried, but the significance still remained.

You had almost everything you wanted, but there was still the looming fear that gripped you both every minute of every day. There was the fear that your husband would find you, that the police would be alerted to your whereabouts. Your new friends and neighbours didn’t know the truth, and they seemed like good people. But your husband had a reputation of exploiting people’s good nature, and you knew he’d be able to easily manipulate them if word got out that you were here.

But you refused to live your life in fear. You treated each day as though it were truly special, basking in the small, perfect moments with Jun-Ho. When life got heavy, you’d at the ring he’d weaved, and focused on moving forward. You’d find a way to escape your husband for good. You’d find a way to marry the man who made you feel like a real life princess. The two of you had been building your own case, wads of paper and pictures taped to the inside wall of your tiny closet. Each night you spent a little time working on, piece by piece putting together evidence to bring down the dirty cops and gangsters who had tried to tear you apart.

You had no idea if you’d be able to beat them, but you’d be fools not to try.

[vibingandsimping]

More random intimate positions/scenarios! Pt.2

Morally grey/villain characters this time!

Forewarnings: Dark content… including things like ownership, stalking, gore + obsession. Some pure fluff though :)

(I apologize for this being considerably longer compared to the others. I have been playing some more plus researching the lore. I feel more confident in my understanding of the characters and my writing.)

Gortash had his fingers wrapped around your chin as he beckoned you to look at him. You’re sat in his lap with your hands rested atop his shoulders. His expression is content with how closely pressed you are to his body. He could savor your warmth and read you so intimately. His brown eyes meet yours with a certain warmth laced in all the unwavering dominance. His lips quirk into a smirk as he watches your poorly built facade begin to crumble. His spare hand runs along the small of your back slowly… beckoningly. He'd be the hero of Baldurs Gate soon. He'd have all the power he dreamt of as a boy. Don't you wish to share that with him? His chest purrs when you keen into his touch. Good. He knew you could be a pretty thing for him. Such a formidable foe and he’d have you right by his side.

Minthara had her arms wrapped around your frame protectively. No matter how large or small you were in comparison. She was determined to hold you and plant some sort of reassurance into you. The way she regarded you was not that of any other. No, you were special to her and the woman realized it may not be so clear. She may be a cruel and a standard "drow", but beyond that there was an affection for you within her heart. She plants a kiss against the back of your shoulder-blades and it draws a shudder. Her muscles tighten around you as she presses her face into your shoulder, hot breath washing the junction of your neck and the flesh of your shoulder. You resist a second shudder. Unbeknownst to you, she’d follow you even if it was fruitless. Nothing was shaking her now that she was wrapped around you.

Orin's blade travels down your chest. It was gentle yet sharp... she wasn't particularly aiming to harm you but the thin streak of blood was enticing. The wound was so shallow it barely bubbled- just enough to alert her she broke the skin. Everything about the way she gazed at you was unhinged. You knew if she had pupils they'd be dilated. She draws her face downwards and laps at the tender flesh while you draw a shaky inhale. The whispers of praise and wishes for more barely reached your ears beyond the thrum of your heart. The slimy feel of her tongue worming it’s way up to your collarbones hitch your breath and you watch carefully. Each movement breeds more anticipation- she was soaking in your torment. She was wicked, truly, she devoted herself to you. You’d never understand her… but did you have to?

Ketheric’s hand laced with yours as you walked to his side. He was laid on his throne with open thighs as he acknowledged your presence. The man was aged and once a father. Well, technically still but Isobel regarded him with disowning. He long burned that bridge from his desperation and despair. You entered his life and turned things around. Everyone in Moonrise had never seen him so soft since he lost his daughter and wife. You took a seat on one of his thighs as he drew your hand to his face. His lips planted a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and then along your wrist. His beard tickled and caused you laugh, struggling against his hold as he stubbornly refused to let you go. When he finally did his lips were quirked upwards and there was a twinkling in his eye. He never thought he’d take a lover again… so he was glad when you broke down his walls. He’d once curse you for being persistent but now he’d praise you for it.

Raphael tugs on the invisible leash that was wrapped around your neck. You jerk forward on the bed as you kneeled with palms balancing you on the lush fabric. His wings were on grand display as his typically slicked hair tussled ever so slightly. Expression dark and expectant as you slowly crawled toward him. His brows furrowed as he tutted impatiently, a leg swinging out to hook around your thigh and jerk it underneath you. You collapsed as he drew you towards him with little patience. You now sprawled across his lower abdomen and crotch as his chest rumbles in amusement. Your skin burned with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. The hold he had on you, literally and figuratively, elicited a deep part of your brain. One that wished so carnally to be claimed… to be owned. Raphael would see to that, he promised, with one hand stroking your hair. You were such a sweet thing… and if you weren’t so persistent he’d lock you up for himself.

Kar’niss thought of you as a blessing. Truly, a drider like him didn’t deserve such an angel. He was supposed to be punished for all eternity for his shortcomings. He failed once and will never see to being a normal drow again. That’s why it didn’t make sense for him to be rewarded- but who is he to look at a gift with ungratefulness? He always holds you so tenderly… his body shockingly cold. He’s restless today, you note, as his eight legs skitter and his hands curl at you. There’s a flittering look in his face. A hunger he tried to conceal. When you question, he answers truthfully, drider need to feed on blood to survive. Every four days or he’d succumb to weakness and eventually die an empty husk. You offer yourself and he checks you for any hesitancy before diving in. He pierces the flesh with his sharp nails before indulging in the crimson that flowed. Between suckles and licks, he praises you for your generosity. Endless ‘thank you’s’ flow as much as your blood. He’s sure he’d never fallen deeper in love… or was it infatuation?

Haarlep knew their affection for you was essentially forbidden. Raphael handed you as a toy to them. Nothing more and nothing less- they should regard you only for his entertainment. They somehow found themselves wanting to indulge in your mind rather than your flesh after some time. It was your softness that first stunned them and foiled their pure-desire. Raphael never touched themself with such… they could barely find the word. Gentleness? Regard? They’d lay with you after your shared bliss and inch their nails down the side of your hip as you detailed your life. With a hand propping their head; they seemed enchanted. Mesmerized by how simple yet complex of a creature you were to them. Haarlep was a succubus and spent their life serving that purpose. They almost felt jealous of the freedom you held in life. They couldn’t help but find themselves fantasizing a life where you two lived in better circumstances. It was all a fantasy, though, they knew it with a bittersweetness.

Durge had always watched you from afar. Stalking, following and admiring. You caught their gaze amongst the crowd as they deliberately chose their next victim. You would’ve been easy. You didn’t hold yourself with a particular air in the ranks of Baldur’s Gate. Another citizen lost to the crazed killings of a maniac. It wasn’t until you’d noticed you had a secret admirer did your hackles raise. You could feel a pair of eyes on you at the most inopportune times. Then, came the letters at your doorstep detailing how they defied their nature. You could’ve been another hung corpse but instead they wished to wrap their mind around your heart and their lips amongst your neck. A shiver ran through you… a mix of disgust and a strange intrigue? Surely it was the way the letters were so detailed and deranged. You would’ve ignored it all until the stalking emboldened. You saw their figure in the window at night and through the alleyways. It was only a matter of time before they struck and claimed you as theirs. You’d simply have to keep an eye over your shoulder and hold a dagger close. If you could even strike them, that was.