#seeing everyone having a good time just warms my heart

[ariestrxsh]

❆ content warning: smut, use of toys, oral (f! & m!receiving), masturbation, cheating (kinda), getting caught, praise/degradation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, cuckold behavior, unprotected sex, threesome (ish), bf!chris, pervy!matt, gf!reader

❆ summary: chris buys you a dildo for christmas, and his brother matt, who has always had a thing for you stumbles upon you using it

Merry Chrattmas! 🤍 Sorry it's a little late. Inspired/requested by this ask.

Voyeur

"Alright, which one of you bought a sex toy?" Matt laughed after tearing open the package that had been left on the doorstep that morning without even bothering to look at the name of the recipient. He was holding up a glass dildo for the whole house to see. Nick's eyebrows flew up and his jaw dropped as his gaze meandered over to Chris from across the room.

"Give me that, asshole! What are you doing opening mail that isn't yours? What if it had been a gift for you?" Chris snarked, ripping the box and the toy out of Matt's hand. "Then I would have kindly asked you to return it," Matt chuckled, poking Chris in the side. Chris rolled his eyes.

"It's for my girlfriend, okay? Don't let her know that you've seen it, because she'd be really embarrassed," Chris responded, blushing. "I bet she'll look so good using it," Matt smirked, his imagination running wild.

It was no secret that Matt had always found you attractive. Everyone knew it. Chris knew it, Nick knew it, and even you knew it, but you'd oftentimes joke around, even to Matt's face, that you were a loyal Chris girl and that nothing could ever sway you.

Of course, Matt took this as a challenge and caused him to pine after you even more. You'd never admit to it, but you did secretly like the attention your boyfriend's brother gave you.

"Too bad you'll never know," Chris rolled his eyes at his brother's out-of-pocket comment and rushed off to his room to wrap the gift in private along with the pink Fresh Love hoodie he'd designed for you. He included a card in the gift that read:

"I hope you wear this hoodie and think of me the next time you get off without me. Merry Christmas, baby. I love you. Xoxo, Chris."

He scribbled in a poorly drawn heart at the bottom of the card. He swathed the box in gift wrap, tying a sparkly, pink bow around it and placing it under the tree.

It was only a few days later that you went over to your boyfriend's house to spend the night, and luckily, Nick was out for the evening, and Matt was on his way out, so the two of you were going to have the house to yourselves. It was the perfect opportunity for Chris to give you your present.

"You're going to love the gift my brother got you. It's gonna make you scream," Matt whispered into your ear and winked as he was getting ready to walk out the door. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him, but your curiosity was sparked.

After he left, you and Chris sat in front of the fireplace in the glow of the burning wood and twinkling Christmas lights that were strewn around the tree. The scent of the sugar cookie candle that was burning down to the wick wafted through the air. Chris delicately placed the neatly-wrapped gift in your hand.

"I know it's not Christmas yet," Chris said with a warm smile, knowing you were the type of person who liked to wait until Christmas morning to open your gifts. You smiled back at him, fiddling with the pretty ribbon wrapped around it. "But?" You asked, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"It's the kind of gift I want you to open alone," Chris responded, nervously biting his lip. You wrinkled your nose at him. Open alone? Too bad Matt knew what it was for whatever reason, you thought to yourself. You weren't sure where he was going with this, but that made it even harder to resist tearing open the gift.

"I'll make an exception. Just for you," you rolled your eyes in an endearing manner and began to tear off the wrap, revealing an unmarked box beneath the paper. You slowly removed the lid, and you gasped at the Fresh Love hoodie that was neatly folded on top.

It was your favorite color, and you clutched it close to your chest and gave your boyfriend an exhilarated smile. "Chris, I love it!" You glanced back down into the box where a card lay on top of some sparkly tissue paper. He'd made it himself, which made it that much more special. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you read the card aloud.

"Chris, what else is in here?" You wondered as you started rifling through the box. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped as you examined the glass toy, and you picked it up by the pink heart-shaped handle. "Chris.. it's so pretty," you whispered.

"Not as pretty as you using it, though, I'm sure," he gave you a cheeky grin and nudged you. "I don't know how. You should show me," you gave him a fake pout and batted your eyelashes at him. You did know how to use it, but you wanted Chris to be the first one to use it on you.

"Take off your clothes," he lustfully whispered as you handed off the dildo to him, a smirk playing in the corner of your lip. You pulled off your sweater, revealing that you had nothing on underneath, and you took down the waistband of your pajama pants and your underwear.

"Fuck, you're already wet," Chris noticed aloud as you slowly spread open your legs, his fingertips lightly grazing your skin. He leaned down and started trailing kisses up your inner thighs while you gently combed through his hair with your fingers as he neared your heat.

He licked a long stripe up your slit, subtly flicking his tongue across your clit once he got to it. He placed your toy at your entrance and slowly pushed it in. You squealed and clamped your legs down around Chris' head as you stretched around the glass dildo.

He began to gently fuck you with it, listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your lips as you threw your head back. You gripped his hair, tugging on it as he picked up the pace of his tongue, quickly flitting it over your bundle of nerves. He closed his lips down around it, humming against your clit, your legs shaking at the sensation.

The dildo didn't feel quite as good as having sex with Chris, but it was good enough that you knew it would satisfy you the next time you were turned on and missing him. He worked the toy in and out of you at a gradually quickening pace, and your hips started to move in unison with it.

"Chris, you're amazing," you breathlessly purred, and he chuckled with your pussy in his mouth. He could tell you were getting close. He didn't fluctuate, his motions remaining constant while his pretty blue eyes flicked up to meet yours. You rested your hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to keep eating you as your whole body started to tremble.

"Yes.. please.. just like that.. mmm.. gonna cum," you said in a series of broken moans. You felt yourself squeezing around the toy the same way your thighs were squeezing around Chris' ears, and before you knew it, you were coming undone at the seams.

The pressure that had spent so much time building in your core finally reached its breaking point. You bucked your hips, riding the toy and grinding against Chris' face as you finished. Your broken moans turned to fervent whimpers, and your whimpers turned to desperate screams, just like Matt had predicted. Your eyes wandered towards the back of your head.

Chris didn't take his gaze off you. He loved making you feel good, and he relished in the way your body reacted to orgasm. He thrust the toy in and out of you and licked your sensitive button until you were completely finished and pushing his head away.

"Oh my god," you said, trying to catch your breath and recover from the intensity of your climax. Chris came up for air, his lips and chin glistening in your fluids. "That was so hot," he said in a low, sexy voice. You took the toy from him and leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue as the two of you passionately made out.

"You're so good at giving," you told him. "Gifts, I mean." The two of you laughed at your play on words. You both spent the rest of the night watching Christmas movies cuddled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa while the fire burned through the rest of the wood.

You and Chris eventually found your way to his bedroom where the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms tangled in the sheets. The warmth of his body wrapped around you and the comforting feeling of his hot breath on your neck was the last thing you remembered before you drifted off...

You awoke the next morning to Chris shifting around on the bed, and after you rubbed your eyes, you realized he was getting dressed to go somewhere. "Where are you going?" You asked in your sleepy voice.

"I'm going to go pick us up coffee and bagels. Just keep sleeping like a little angel, and I'll be back soon. I love you," Chris whispered, leaning down to kiss you and ruffle your hair.

You were hoping to sneak in a little early morning sex with him, but he was already putting his shoes on, and you figured you could just use the new toy he bought you while he was gone. "I love you, too," you responded in a sweet voice.

You watched him from your foggy window, flakes of snow starting to slowly fall from the sky. Your face lit up, excited that you were going to get your White Christmas after all. Chris blew you a kiss before he got into his car and sped off.

You sauntered over to the pretty box that held your gifts. You changed into the pink Fresh Love hoodie Chris had designed for you, and you twirled around in front of his big mirror, admiring how perfectly it fit you.

You reached for the phallic-shaped glass and held it in your hands, contemplating whether to wait until Chris got back or to use it. You decided on the latter, unable to contain yourself any longer.

While Chris was still out getting the two of you breakfast, Matt wandered in through the front door. He set his keys down, let out a sigh, and started off down the hall, completely unaware of what he was about to stumble upon.

He walked past Chris' room, but some movement out of the corner of his eyes caused him to stop dead in his tracks and take a couple steps back. He was surprised to find you there, considering he didn't think anyone was home.

What surprised him even more was what you were doing. You were laying on your back on Chris' bed in nothing but your pink hoodie, legs spread, and your pussy wrapped around the toy he'd accidentally opened in the mail a couple days earlier.

You were so enthralled with what you were doing that you didn't even hear him come in or see him as he leaned up against your door frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He raised an eyebrow as he studied the view, wetting his lips. It was everything he hoped it would be.

Your facial expressions were steeped in desire, ethereal moans rolling off your tongue, and your cunt stretching around the toy as you worked it back and forth. He immediately grew hard, watching you and imagining it was his cock pumping in and out of you.

Your eyes flickered up, realizing he was in the room with you. You gasped and shut your legs, holding the toy still inside of you as you clenched around it. "Please. Don't stop," Matt begged, reaching for the bulge in his pants and gently running his hand over it. "Keep going. Please. I just wanna watch," he softly begged.

It was so hard to see him stroke himself through his sweatpants and not do the same. You knew it was wrong to be feeling this way about your boyfriend's brother, but you felt your stomach drop as your eyes landed on the outline of his hard cock and before you knew it, you were spreading your legs back open and continuing to fuck yourself with your dildo.

"Does that feel good?" He asked you, and you timidly nodded at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He walked forward a few feet, coming around to the side of the bed to watch you more closely. He reached out and lightly brushed your cheek with the back of his hand.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you quietly told him, but you couldn't help the way you relaxed into his touch as he caressed your face. "It's not like I'm fucking you," Matt smirked, and as he said it, your mind was immediately filled with ideas about what it would be like to get fucked by him.

Matt brushed his thumb against your bottom lip and gently pushed it into your mouth. You accepted it and started lightly sucking on it while Matt reached into his sweats and pulled out his pretty cock. You were shocked at how similar it looked to Chris', and it made it even easier for you to justify to yourself that you weren't technically doing anything wrong.

You sped up the toy thrusting into you as Matt continued to poke and prod your mouth with his fingers while he fervently jerked off at eye-level with you. "Good girl," Matt whispered as he ran his other thumb over his tip, coaxing a shiny fluid to leak from it. You sped up the pace as you watched him.

You knew the two of you were crossing a line, but you couldn't help yourself. Matt was too busy watching your toy glide in and out of your hole, and you were too busy watching Matt fist his cock that neither one of you saw Chris standing in the doorway with bagels and coffee as he stumbled upon the two of you and the way you were each hungrily looking at one another.

"Oh yeah? So I'm out getting you breakfast and you're using the toy I got you in front of my brother?" He scoffed, breaking the two of you out of your trance and making each of you jump.

He expected this from Matt, but he was shocked to see this kind of behavior from you. Matt pulled his thumb out from between your lips, and you each brought your movements to a standstill.

The longer Chris fixed his eyes on the scene in front of him, the more he found himself getting turned on by you playing with yourself in front of his brother. "Don't let me stop you. At least let me enjoy the show," Chris said, setting down the bagels and coffee on his dresser as he made his way to the foot of the bed and sat down.

You and Matt were dumbfounded, wondering if this was some kind of test. You halfway expected Chris to get angry, break up with you, or even physically fight his own brother. Yet, he was calm, and he seemed like he might have even liked it.

"Come on. Keep going," Chris demanded, and after a moment of hesitation, you continued to pump your toy into your drooling hole. Matt stuck his pointer finger into your mouth, and you started lightly sucking on it. A soft sigh left Matt's lips as he imagined you sucking on a different appendage, and he went back to stroking his pretty cock.

As if Chris could read Matt's thoughts, he flicked his gaze over at you, "Why don't you help him out?" He asked, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. You nodded and then looked back over at Matt who was putting his dick in your face that was silently begging to be sucked on.

You accepted him, wrapping your lips around his thickness as he started rocking his hips back and forth. He emitted a moan and his hand flew up to tangle itself in your hair. "Good girl," he softly purred, grabbing onto a fistful of your locks and pushing it further into your mouth.

He wasn't sure how far Chris would let him go with it, but he figured he'd test the boundaries until either one of you told him he was taking it too far. His other hand wandered between your legs. He started rubbing your clit, eliciting a moan from you that reverberated against his cock, leaving him with a lovely sensation.

"You're such a shameless little slut, aren't you? Letting my brother touch you in front of me as if I'm not your boyfriend?" Chris snarked at you, but you could tell by the luscious tone of his voice and the way he was stroking himself through his pants that he was getting off on what he saw.

"Come on, Matt. Fuck her pretty little face. She can take it. I promise," Chris encouraged him. He tightened his grip on your hair and did as Chris told him, jerking his hips forward triggering your gag reflex.

Matt continued drawing circles on your clit with the pad of his fingers as he stared into your watering eyes. His cock twitched against the back of your throat as he listened to the sound of you choking on him.

"Good girl. You take it so well. I wish I could fuck you," Matt purred. You moaned against Matt's length at the idea of him plowing you while your boyfriend watched. Chris was still gently rubbing his tip through the fabric of his pants as he watched the way you and Matt interacted with another.

"Merry Christmas, Matt. You can do whatever you want to her," Chris told him, getting harder and harder as his eyes flickered back and forth between the two of you. Matt's eyes twinkled as those words left Chris' lips.

"Oh, don't tell me that. I won't be able to control myself," Matt smirked, pulling his dick out from behind your lips with a pop. Matt grabbed the handle of your toy and slowly removed it from you and placed it on your nightstand.

"Go crazy. Can't you see how bad the little slut wants it?" Chris asked, staring down at the fucked out expression on your face and your pussy that was clenching around nothing.

Matt positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your hole. "You want it, don't you? You like the idea of getting fucked in front of your boyfriend?" Matt chuckled, breaching your entrance and beginning to gently rock his hips back and forth with only the first few inches of him inside you.

You slowly nodded, screwing your eyes shut as your jaw dropped at the change in sensation of Matt replacing your toy with his throbbing phallus. With every thrust, he pushed it in a little deeper until he was completely bottomed out inside of you, hitting the perfect spot.

The sounds of each of your moans dragging out and becoming louder as Matt pumped away. He placed your legs on his shoulders, fucking you harder and faster as you felt the pressure in your core building and building.

He pushed up your pink hoodie, revealing your perfect tits to him, and he gently squeezed one as he admired them. "Fuck, look at these," Matt whispered, pinching your nipple between the pads of his fingers, eliciting a soft mewl from you.

You could see Chris out of the corner of your eye moving towards you and coming around to the side of the bed. He took your hand in his and started caressing the back of it with his thumb. "Is he making you feel good?" He whispered into your ear before kissing your forehead. "Mhmm," you hummed delightfully.

It was always a fantasy of his to watch you get fucked by someone else, and although this wasn't exactly how he pictured it, he figured he couldn't let the opportunity go to waste.

"You take it like a little slut, you know that?" Chris cooed in your ear before latching onto your neck. You nodded, relishing in the way he spoke to you and the way his lips felt as he sucked on your sensitive flesh.

Matt loved the way it felt to be inside of you. He'd been fantasizing about it forever. He'd never admit it, but he'd stayed awake many nights, ear pressed up against Chris' door with his hand in his pants, listening to the sound of you getting fucked. He'd memorized the way your sweet little moans would slowly morph into seductive screams every time Chris would bring you to orgasm.

Now he was the reason pleasured noises were cascading from your lips, and he couldn't get enough. He knew you were getting close. "Oh, that's it," Matt grunted as he threw his head back, feeling you squeeze around his cock.

"Are you gonna cum for my brother?" Chris purred in your ear, recognizing the way your body was reacting and knowing you were about to finish. You looked into Chris' eyes and slowly nodded as the knot in your stomach came unraveled, your pussy rhythmically clenching around him.

"Good girl," Matt breathlessly whispered, pounding into you as hard as he could. Your pleasure reached a crescendo, and you heard a ringing in your ears and a strong buzzing throughout your body as you came undone on Matt's cock.

You couldn't see or think straight. All you could feel was an intense surge of pleasure followed by a wave of calmness washing over you as Matt's dick started to throb inside of you. He pulled out at the last second, painting your stomach in his load and pumping his cock back and forth with his fist until he had milked himself dry.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and his moans filled the room as he finished all over you. "Oh my god," he breathlessly whimpered, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. Chris' eyes followed the mess he made, his cock jerking at the sight.

"Hey, Matt. Just letting you know, this was a one-time thing, and if you're not out of here by the time I come to my senses, I might fucking kill you," Chris said sternly. Matt nodded, quickly pulling himself to his feet and tucking himself back into his pants before darting out of the room.

"Loyal Chris girl, huh?" Chris snarked at you, using your own words against you. "Chris.." you started to say, expecting him to get angry with you next. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at Matt either. I just wanted to see him run away like a little bitch," he told you, his lips curling into a devious smile.

"I actually really liked watching you two together," he admitted, biting his lip. Your eyebrows flew up in a look of surprise. You could tell he liked it, but you didn't think he'd confess to it. "Come on. Your coffee's probably cold by now."

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[scarletttries]

When Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Fall in Love...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: It's been a while! I haven't posted in a while but I've got some time at the moment and I'm just finishing a first playthrough of BG3 so wanted to write some headcanons for our charming companions. Consider me open for any BG3 request too, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Travelling with you makes Astarion feel grateful he's had hundreds of years to perfect his flirting technique. He knows exactly how to let you know what he's thinking without ever giving away too much of himself, how to flash his smile without ever lowering his guard. He thinks once again he knows exactly how to capture your attention, and possibly your body, without losing an ounce of control. That is until you say something that catches him completely off guard...

- "I'm really sorry to hear that." You should have laughed at his expense, his self-deprecating humour and haunted tales from his past worn like the toughest armour over silky open shirts. But you hadn't laughed, or scoffed, or replied with some equivalently sarcastic tone. Instead you'd offered empathy, a warm look and an extended hand that somehow didn't feel like pity to Astarion either.

"Well that's enough self-pity for tonight my dear." He quickly excused himself from the campfire, turning his back as he entered his tent to hide any visible blush his cheeks may muster from the way you said good night. Of course his blood didn't circulate that way any more, but he was almost sure he could feel his heart rising in his chest as it had when he was still a mortal man. No, this didn't feel right at all.

- It would be easy for Astarion to pretend he was only interested in a night of carnal pleasures with you because of all the beauty you possess, and he'll let everyone else think him a shallow man just the same. But when he lets his mind wander freely it's your kindness he finds himself dwelling on, or your firm but fair moral code that seems to carry you through these intrepid lands without doubt or tribulation. He almost wishes he had met you sooner, so sure that his life (and after-life) could have turned out quite different with you by his side at those strange early steps.

- Suddenly all his effortless flirting feels a lot more challenging and he can't decide if he should risk a small amount of sincerity to let you know how we feels, or just to double down on letting you know one night with him would ruin you for any other lover. Luckily both approaches are met with the affection he craves, and slowly but surely Astarion starts to feel like he might be able to have something real for once.

Wyll:

- Ever the hopeless romantic, Wyll was already a firm believer in love at first sight by the time he ran into you and experienced it firsthand. He fears he cannot be too bold, his staunch commitment to his duties governing his life in a way that does not leave much room for any other kind of commitment. He tries to let his feelings settle at the back of his mind, in the hopes that in time they will become nothing but a dull ache he can learn to live with.

- That could not be less of the case for poor Wyll though, your face filling his every nightly dream and your voice echoing through his mind in every moment of silence. His heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing day you travel together and soon it feels almost inevitable that he will be yours, even if he can't quite bring himself to admit it yet. Once he has accepted that thought he must wrestle with the possibility that you might not feel the same and you will be added to his list of those he cares for most that have rejected him with scorn.

- Still he lets the lighter thoughts carry him through the toughest of times; what it might be like to hear you offer your own feelings back, how it would feel to see you smile only for him, what kind of life the two of you might be able to build in a simpler times, what he could finally do if you agreed to a wedding night together. He lets himself ruminate on that more often that he'd like to admit, all gentlemanly efforts banished from his mind when he sees you walk around his camp.

- While he builds up the courage to make his feelings known, you might catch him practicing the steps of an intricate dance one night when he thinks everyone is fast asleep.

Gale:

- Gale has known love and loss before, the intensity of his past life making him consider keeping his heart closed off from others forevermore. But the gods have a funny way of keeping Gale on his toes, and introducing him to you certainly did that.

- At first you are just the warmest of friends to him: an ever-willing audience for his lifetime of tales and knowledge, a reliable companion for the throes of battle, a selfless treasure seeker who helps him fend off hunger. But over time he finds himself desperately scanning his mind for more and more facts that it would be worth waking you up to share, more tales to capture your attention, anything the two of you might do together to keep your focus on him and no one else.

- It's about when he wonders if the two of you might just camp in one tent together, that he realises he no longer views you as simply his closest friend. No, you have long passed that threshold into an entirely new realm of love. It feels so different to anything he has felt before, like your company is the warmest summer breeze after decades of stormy lightning in his heart. It feels safe and easy to be with you, like he could be content with almost nothing as long as you were by his side, looking at him with your near endless appreciation. Gale can't be sure exactly what to do about it, but he hopes the next time you draw back the opening on your tent and usher him in for another night of exchanging tales, that you might permit him to never leave.

Shadowheart:

- It's hard to know love when you barely know yourself. That's what Shadowheart tells herself when she finds her mind wandering back to you after your memorable first impression. She has so much to learn about herself, and while she's grateful for the reliable company and kind sounding-board you provide, there's simply no room in her life for anything more.

- And yet the more she uncovers about herself, the more important it seems to have you by her side. It's like she cannot exist in this new fully realised version of herself if she doesn't know you. If she doesn't get to see herself through your eyes, to hear what you think, to have your presence beside her as he continues to take more and more steps forward down this path home.

- Without ever trying you have become the other half of Shadowheart, and by the time she realises it, she knows you must have the same awareness. There could be no way that you aren't as in tune to the depth of your bond as she is, leaving her only one question. Not if to address it. But when.

Karlach:

- Though Karlach may not have a traditional heart anymore, she is more than capable of falling for the travelling companion that seems to bring out the best in her at every step. After years spent working for the devil and his underlings, having someone in her life that strives to make the world better and put her strength to good use is like the first sip of water after countless nights in the arid desert of the hells.

- Karlach knows she's as strong as they come, so she finds her eyes frantically searching you out in battle, pushing herself on and raging forwards to always keep you safe, to get you behind her, to make sure you go on to keep her company another day.

- Her time in this plane of existence may be more limited than some of the other characters, but that only means Karlach knows how important it is to truly 'live.' While the other companions may bide their time and carefully deliberate how best to inform you of their inconvenient feelings, when Karlach knows your heart is true, she's going to let you know she is all yours at the earliest, and steamiest, opportunity.

[wildsupernova]

a secret gift.

prompt #3 on scealaiscoite’s christmas prompt list: “secret santa”

summary: another christmas spent with friends and loved ones means another annual secret santa celebration. but this year, steve has a special secret santa gift up his sleeve…

pairing: steve harrington x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, very mild sexual allusions

a/n: hey again everyone! i wanted to thank you guys so, so, so much for the love on my last christmas story. it was my first post back after a long hiatus and i wasn’t expecting to see it blow up like it did, but all of the reblogs really warmed my heart. this story was supposed to be uploaded on christmas, but time got away from me, so here it is a few days late. it’s not quite as good as i had hoped for, but it was an idea floating around in my head for a while, so i hope you guys enjoy. again, thanks so much for all the love on my last post, and thank you for reading this one! <3 — — nova

masterlist | prompt list

“Uhg, come on, do we really have to do this again?” Robin threw her head back on the back of the sofa, her skull slightly bouncing off the leather as she did.

“Yes, Robin, we’re doing this again.” Nancy shook the bowl full of little slips of paper in her hands for the third time, pulling one out and putting it in her lap. She passed the bowl to Jonathan, who also took one, and the chain continued until each person had a slip of paper. Robin was last to take hers, throwing the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of her.

“But I hate Secret Santa.”

“It’s tradition, Robs.” You say with a smile, hiding your own slip of paper in your palm. “We’ve been doing it since high school.”

“Which is exactly why we should stop doing it. It’s so old.” The group laughs at Robin’s childlike tantrum, Eddie giving her a light smack to the back of the head.

Christmas time was something you cherished deeply, especially amongst your friends. Ever since you were a child, the magic of Christmas had always been something you held with you; the shimmering, multicolored lights wrapped around a freshly decorated tree, the smell of cinnamon mixing perfectly with the earthly scent of pine, and the way the sun shimmered opalescent as it beamed down on a fresh layer of snow. Christmas was a time to feel like a child again, no matter how old you were, and you would be damned if you would let Robin’s yearly tantrum ruin a 5 year long tradition.

You had been a late addition to the friend group you found yourself in now, not spending time together with everyone until your senior year at Hawkins High. You had kept to yourself for most of your high school career, not doing much in the way of extracurriculars or social activities. You had friends, of course, but none that spent much time going to parties or participating in sports, so your friendships never expanded much outside of the small circle of individuals you had known since middle school. At the beginning of your senior year, you had realized just how much you had missed out on, and vowed that you would put yourself out there more and make your own memories. So, when your new lab partner Nancy Wheeler invited you to a party at Steve Harrington’s house, you agreed, albeit with a small hesitation.

At the time, you wouldn’t have described your relationship with Nancy as being very close. It was primarily a professional one, with most conversations revolving around that day’s homework or the upcoming quiz at the end of the week. When you brought one of your favorite books to class one day, the conversation pivoted away from the usual topics, with Nancy noting that the book was also one of her favorites, and that she was happy to find someone who was willing to listen to her talk about it non stop. Soon enough, the conversations became more like the ones you had with your other friends, and that had led to Nancy inviting you to the party that weekend.

Being invited to a party at Steve Harrington’s house used to be the greatest honor anyone could achieve, but now it was something that was becoming increasingly rare. You’d never had any negative experiences with Steve during your shared years at Hawkins High; you were just in the right level of social standing where you were practically invisible to him and his old friends, so you’d never had any bad nor good experiences with him and those formerly in his circle. You’d heard that in recent years he’d changed his personality significantly from how he’d been at the beginning of high school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see the new and greatly improved Steve Harrington.

Party wasn’t exactly what you would have called the get together you attended that Saturday night. By technical standards, it was a party. Music, drinks, empty house, and room temperature pizza were all present, but what was missing was…the people. It didn’t take you long to realize that you hadn’t been invited to a party; you had been invited to a hangout amongst long term friends, which left you feeling just a little bit awkward.

That awkwardness didn’t last for much of the night, however, as Nancy introduced you to the rest of the group quickly. Her boyfriend, Jonathan, was rather quiet, shaking your hand and offering a nod of the head as introduction. Robin was much more upbeat and gave you a hug as her greeting, which her girlfriend Vickie quickly apologized for and introduced herself. The best way to put Eddie’s introduction was charming, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it in a rather extravagant gesture, before he began profusely apologizing for it after realizing that it might have been a bit much. You just laughed it off and told him you appreciated it, which barely eased his conscience.

Then, there was Steve. It was visible that he was a different man than the one you knew from high school, like he had an aura around him that had shifted from a bright, overbearing yellow to a more soothing cool blue. He offered up a kind smile, ran a hand through his hair and unconsciously showed off the shiny watch on his wrist, and held his hand out for you to shake, which you took enthusiastically. You struggled to hold back the blush in your face when you saw his eyes just briefly sweep over your body, his grip on your hand firm as he shook and released it a few seconds later.

Needless to say, you were smitten from first glance at the new and improved Steve Harrington.

After that night, you became a permanent fixture in the friend group. At the start, you had felt like a 7th wheel, always left out of inside jokes and unsure of the context behind the many stories they told amongst each other. It didn’t last that way for long, however, as everyone was more than happy to go into explicit detail explaining the history of the joke or recounting tales that were always shared during get togethers. Naturally, as your friendship with everyone developed, you found yourself gravitating more and more towards Steve, and he seemed to be doing the same.

It became a regular occurrence that you and Steve would be left to hang out alone due to conflicts from the rest of the group. There were periods where Eddie was hardly around due to touring with his band, Nancy and Jonathan often cancelled in favor of date nights or work conflicts, and Robin and Vickie had perpetual band performances that left them unable to make plans. So, instead of canceling plans altogether, you and Steve decided to just hang out between the two of you, which became more and more charged the more nights you spent in each other’s company.

Nancy had been the one to pitch the idea of Secret Santa for Christmas that first year. You were still a fairly new addition to the group and didn’t know the others as well as they knew each other, and being the thoughtful person she was, Nancy didn’t want you to stress about finding Christmas gifts for everyone, so she figured Secret Santa would be the best way to not only give gifts, but also get to know the others with limited stress. You had ended up with Steve that first year, buying him an expensive watch that was far out of your budget, an item that, in retrospect, might have been an unconscious effort to make a good impression on him. Nancy had been the one to pull your name, gifting you a rare copy of the book that had led you to each other in the beginning.

As time went on, something between you and Steve seemed to shift that summer. There had been a tension building between you two for quite a while, but it finally broke after a particularly rough shift at Family Video. One moment, you were seated on the hood of his car in the parking lot talking him through his horrific encounters with various screaming customers, and the next his hands were all over you while his lips worked magic against your own.

You kept it quiet, unsure if what you were feeling was true romantic attraction or just a summer fling, but Steve decided to make it official that coming Christmas. It was your second year participating in Secret Santa as a group, and you had gotten Eddie that year, buying him a new guitar strap and set of guitar picks after his old ones finally broke. When you finally opened your Secret Santa gift, a small square box messily wrapped in bright red wrapping paper, you knew immediately that Steve was your Secret Santa. Inside of the box was a delicate silver necklace, a small teardrop shaped sapphire sitting in the center of the pendant hanging from the chain. That night was the night Steve had officially asked you to be his girlfriend, a proposition you happily accepted with a kiss.

The tradition of Secret Santa continued even when many of you had moved far from Hawkins, Indiana and started new lives, everyone somehow always able to make time to convene to celebrate the holiday. Nancy and Jonathan had moved to Chicago to pursue their collective journalism careers, spending their days with noses buried in books to get them through college. Corroded Coffin had kicked Eddie into stardom, with he and his fellow bandmates never staying in one place long enough to call it home, always on tour and playing new venues. Robin and Vickie had followed you and Steve to Indianapolis, beginning their own lives as college students. You and Steve moved into an apartment not far from your shared campus, with Steve working several odd jobs while remaining undecided on a major, finally finding his place in the education program after volunteering at the campus daycare for an event. Despite life always getting in the way, all of you consistently met for the annual Secret Santa, hosting the entire group at your house for the week leading up to Christmas.

“It’s not old, it’s a classic.” Robin rolled her eyes as Steve shared his defense for the tradition, earning him a small eye roll. He slung his arm over your shoulder and rested it on the back of the couch, yourself not seeing him subtly trade his slip of paper for the one Eddie was holding.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules. You have a week to find your gift, no tags, all wrapped in the same wrapping paper, and we exchange them on Christmas Eve.” Nancy folded up her paper and slipped it into her pocket, Robin letting out another groan of protest at her reminder of their rules. The room filled with quiet conversation as Steve looked down at the slip of paper in his hands, suddenly feeling the nerves he had been trying to push away for days fill up his chest.

A week later and the living room of yours and Steve’s small apartment is festively decorated for the upcoming holiday, the tree in the corner of the apartment covered in tinsel garland and the floor below is littered with brightly wrapped gifts. The Secret Santa gifts all sit in one corner, all wrapped in matching green and red striped paper, the bows tied on each one a different color to designate their intended recipient. You and the rest of the group sit huddled around the coffee table, drinks in hand and laughing about whatever crazy tour story Eddie was telling this time. Your fingers are wrapped around the stem of a wine glass as you sip absentmindedly from the merlot inside, and Steve sits next to you with his hand lightly resting on your thigh, his other holding the crystal glass of cheap whiskey that he’s been nursing the whole night.

“Okay!” Nancy claps her hands together, making Steve jump. You look up at him and raise a brow, but he just waves it off and gives you the ‘I’m fine’ look he always does. You don’t buy it, but decide to drop it anyway; he’s been on edge all week, but every time you ask why, he just brushes you off and assures you everything is fine. “We should get to the Secret Santa gifts while we’re all sober.”

“Please, I can’t listen to another minute of Eddie’s ramblings about getting drunk on tour.” Robin rolled her eyes and threw back the rest of the drink in her glass, swatting away Eddie’s hands as he tried to mess up her hair in retaliation.

Nancy was quick in passing out all of the gifts, having long memorized the designated ribbon colors that you all had set after the first year you had decided to use the same color wrapping paper and mixed up all the gifts. She handed you yours last, a messily wrapped box tied with green ribbon, and you placed it in your lap, almost immediately noticing how the shoddy wrapping paper had been taped down to the box. It was nearly identical to the way your Secret Santa gift from Steve three years ago had been wrapped, and you smiled a bit at the memory.

Once everyone had been handed their gifts, everyone took turns opening them. Nancy went first and opened her gift from Robin, a fancy new notepad and pen set for her internship at the paper. Jonathan got a new set of camera attachments from Eddie, Robin a new jacket from Nancy, Vickie a new hairpin from Jonathan, and Eddie had been gifted a brand new custom embroidered Corroded Coffin patch from Vickie. Eventually, it came around to you and Steve, where it became obvious that you had received each other for the Secret Santa exchange (if it hadn’t been obvious already).

Steve opened his gift from you first, ripping the paper off the rectangle shaped black leather box. When he opened it, inside was a golden ring hanging from a polished golden chain, just long enough to be able to fit over Steve’s head without much effort. Engraved inside the ring and placed in just the right way where it was visible, were the words ‘Merry Christmas, my love. Take this ring as a promise for many more.’

“I know it’s more expensive than what we normally do for Secret Santa gifts, but I wanted to get you something special this year. I haven’t pulled you for Secret Santa since that first year, so I figured I should get you something nice.” Steve pulled the necklace from the box, holding it delicately in his hands as if he were afraid to break it.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know you’re a big fan of promise rings, considering you’ve bought me, like, five, so I figured it was time for you to have your own.”

“I love it, thank you.” Holding it tightly in his palm, Steve leaned over and pressed a long, soft kiss to your lips, throwing the chain over his head when he pulled away. “Hopefully my gift can match up to yours.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, you always know what to get me even if I don’t tell you-” Your words died in your throat after you pulled all of the wrapping paper from the box and removed the lid, eyes growing wide as they landed on the small velvet box lying perfectly in the center. You looked at Steve, still wide eyed, who simply nodded for you to open the box, your hand shaking as you removed it from the cardboard box and flipped open the lid.

Sitting inside the box was a beautiful shimmering engagement ring, diamonds inlaid in the silver that weaved around in a beautiful vintage pattern. A single large, oval shaped diamond sat in the center of the ring, the ring’s band weaving around it to frame it just perfectly like the center of a flower. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and as you looked at the way the ring shimmered in the dim light, you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s been three years since I first asked you to be my girlfriend, and it’s been the happiest three years of my life.” Steve’s voice shook with nerves as he spoke, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, his face had turned a bright red. “When I first met you, I think part of me always knew that this is where we would end up. You didn’t know any part of me except for my reputation, but you gave me a chance anyway, even when I’m sure everyone you knew was telling you not to. That summer, when we started all of this and tried to agree that it was never something serious, I kept replaying these images in my mind of what a life with you would be like. You were just so unbelievably easy to fall in love with. No matter what you did, I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you until I just couldn’t handle it anymore and had to have you, totally and completely. Three years ago, I asked you to be my girlfriend with a Secret Santa gift, so, three years later, I have to ask you something again.”

Steve slid himself off the couch slowly, bending down on one knee in front of where you sat on the couch. You could barely contain the smile spreading across your face, and it seemed to spread to Steve’s own as he found it hard to speak.

“Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Instantly, you were furiously nodding your head, jumping into Steve’s arms and nearly sending him tumbling back into the coffee table. All of your friends shared a round of applause as you pressed your lips to Steve fervently, Eddie letting out a loud wolf whistle when the kiss got just a bit deeper. When you finally ran out of breath and parted from him, you let Steve slip the ring on your left hand, pulling him in for one more kiss.

When everything in the room finally died down and you found your spot back on the couch, sitting as close to Steve as you possibly could, you looked at the beaming smiles of your friends who all threw congratulations your way. As they did, a thought hit you.

“Wait, how did you guys make sure that Steve got me for Secret Santa?” Everyone in the room went silent. “You guys knew?”

“‘Course we knew! How else would we make sure that someone else didn’t pull your name?” Eddie clapped Steve on the back, earning him a playful swat in return.

“Eddie was the one who actually pulled your name, but we swapped cards last minute.”

“If it helps, they didn’t even tell me until right before we pulled names.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest, pouting like a child. “Said they didn’t trust me to keep the secret.”

“And you did phenomenally well.” Robin sent a glare towards Nancy’s condescending remark, but laughed it off quickly.

“When Steve told us what he wanted to do, of course we had to help him out.”

“Thank you guys, really. It took a lot of the stress off of me.” Steve looked around the room, sending a thankful smile to all of his friends.

“Of course, man. Anything for you two love birds.” Eddie stood from the couch and walked behind it, holding both you and Steve in a wide embrace over the back of the couch. After a semi-uncomfortable few minutes, Eddie made his way to the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator in search of…something. “Now, let’s celebrate. Who's up for some homemade gingerbread cookies?”

“Oh god, I’d better go help him before he burns down the whole building.” Nancy jumped to her feet, rushing towards the kitchen and screaming for Eddie to put down whatever he was holding.

You let the sounds of your friends surround you as you looked up at Steve, who was already staring down at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against yours once again, your new engagement ring sparkling in the lamplight as you entwined your fingers with his own.

[midnight-mourning]

Uhh...DCA December thingy request! Unsure if it's just DCA or TSAMS, but if it's tsams, Nonverbal Sun AU. If it's DCA...I'll go think of an AU.

Cookie Crisis

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 13❄️❄️

Okay! did my best with this, have never watched TSAMS so tried to learn a little bit about the lore and did my best here haha, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: See above

Word Count: 1153

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It's a quiet morning in the Plex. Closed for the holidays, not even a human employee is around. Well, save for one. 

You stumble in from the cold, door shutting behind you with a quiet click. It's been snowing all morning, which made the drive a little more difficult than usual, but you managed. It's getting home that would be troublesome, as from what you understood it would be snowing from now until well after you leave again.

You feel yourself slowly start to warm up as you walk across the quiet atrium. There's a few lingering staffbots who don't pay you any mind as they go about their duties. It's honestly a nice change of pace after the hustle and bustle this place was filled with just yesterday. 

You weren't planning on coming in today, it just sort of happened, really. That, and Sun had messaged you asking for help. And who were you to turn down helping a friend?

Be it the stress from the holidays, or just their usual bickering being worse than usual, he and Sun had been at odds lately. And from what you understood, they weren't currently good terms. 

You remember when you left yesterday, how the two were sticking to opposite ends of the Daycare, not even sparing a passing glance at one another if they did change locations. It had worried you, of course. Besides it being the holidays, you know the brothers cared about each other, it was just difficult for them to express that sometimes. 

So, when Sun texted, expressing a desire to 'make up' with Moon, but not being entirely sure how to, you had just the idea. 

Despite being animatronics, the boys could eat, same as the rest of the bots. And Moon in particular especially enjoyed cookies, something about the sugary treat brought a light to his eyes and joy to his tone that would make you giggle. Anytime you made some, or brought them over from Chica's as a treat for the kids, several would be snatched up by the naptime attendant, instead. 

In fact, there would be times you'd bring him his own box exclusively just to try and salvage some for everyone else. Though, you think it only encouraged him further, rather than deter.

In order to make this work, however, you'd have to be sneaky. If Moon was aware of what you two were up to, it would firstly ruin the surprise, which would be no good. Secondly, he'd likely get flustered at the idea of you two making something for him, and may react negatively because of it. 

You wait until you're outside the Daycare doors before messaging the playtime attendant. 

'I'm here! Think you'll be able to get away?'

After a few seconds you're sent a response. 'Yup! He's busy with the supply closet right now :)'

'Perfect' You send back. 

Less than a minute later, Sun peeks out the door, sending you a wave. 

You wave back. "Hey! Ready to bake your heart out?"

Sun gives you a thumbs up, rays spinning rapidly. 

"Then let's go, I think we can commandeer the bakery's kitchen for a bit. May have to shoo away a staff bot or two though."

Sure enough, when you arrive there's a lone baking bot, hard at work on, something. You can't tell, all it's doing currently is sifting flour over and over again. 

Sun and yourself exchange a look, then he takes charge. 

With a few quick steps he strides over to the staff bot, takes it by the shoulders, and starts pushing leading it out of the kitchen. He waves it goodbye and shuts the door with a slam. Turning around, he claps his hands together, now waiting for you. 

You snort and shake your head. "Probably should have at least directed him to parts and services for maintenance."

Sun shrugs.

Baking is, more of a process than you had originally expected. Originally, you'd been under the impression that Sun had some background with it prior to today. You would have lost that bet, severely.

First, he dropped eggshells into the batter, not understanding that they're meant to be thrown away. After picking those out bit by bit, he added too much sugar, believing that sweeter was better always, something you had to explain would affect both the taste and the quality of the batter. And lastly, he set the oven to 475 F without your knowledge, meaning your first batch was burnt to a crisp. Honestly, you're lucky the fire alarm didn't go off. 

But, after a good bit of a learning curve, things got significantly better. And much more fun. 

At some point, you'd turn on the radio, and holiday music played in the air as you worked. The two of you danced and swayed a bit to the music as you cut out different shapes or spread icing and sprinkles across your goodies. 

You're mid-batch when a chuckle from near the doorway interrupts. 

"And just what are you two up to?"

You both startle, and looking over, see that Moon's leaning against the doorway. 

Sun stands frozen for a moment, and you tense as well. Considering this is probably the first interaction they've had in several days, you can't help but be worried for them. 

Then, the playtime attendant deflates, tossing the cookie he was decorating onto the counter, crossing his arms as he sulks. 

Moon tsks. "You should have done something with the chef bot, he was wandering around the atrium aimlessly for too long to not be suspicious."

"I told him we should have sent him downstairs!" You scowl, shaking your head. 

Moon steps forward, examining your handiwork. "You've been busy, but what's all this for? Are you having a holiday party and decided to enlist my brother for help?"

You shake your head. "Not quite. He actually asked for my help."

Moon pauses at this, looking over to Sun. He pauses his sulking, rays flicking nervously for a moment. Then, he picks up one of your finished cookie boxes, walking over and holding it out to the naptime attendant. 

"I, for me? Really?"

Sun nods, pressing the box into his brother's hands. 

Moon takes them finally, tone soft. "You... didn't have to do that."

Sun shakes his head then, putting both hands on the other bot's shoulders, hugs him. Moon takes a second, then using his free hand, wraps his arm around his brother, hugging back. 

When they pull apart again, they share a laugh. 

 "Thank you, I mean it." Moon turns to you, nodding. "And thank you too."

You smile. "Of course, and hey, now that he knows how to bake, you don't have to rely on just me anymore."

"Believe me, I'll be using that to my full advantage."

Sun's shoulders sag, causing both you and Moon to laugh. 

Who knew baking cookies could lead to such a sweet resolve?

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request! Apologies for the inaccuracies but I hope you enjoyed regardless ^-^

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[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

last christmas | s.h. x gn!reader

“you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“then what better time to do it, finish the year off strong.”

robin lowly groaned, “yeah like a positive strong, not a fall on your face strong. i’m being honest to you when i say, don’t do this for steve harrington, it’s not worth it.”

tongue barely peeking out, eyes staring harshly at the folded notebook paper with the words, read me!, starting to blur together. you blinked harshly and gave a slight shake of your head before turning to face robin on your bed, her messy bangs curtaining her pitting gaze.

“look, first time i told steve i have a crush on him, he didn’t give any type of reaction. but i just have to knows these things, yes it’s extremely stupid, but i just want it to be out in the air so it’s gone from my brain.” you shrugged your shoulders tightly, “besides not like i have any type of chance with him anyway, pretty sure he’s set of the one of the food court girls.” trying for a joke but your tone of voice giving you away.

robin hung her head, “honestly anything at this point will be disastrous, but i’m here for you, like always.” giving a crook of a smile.

-

“hey you see the new girl? she’s kinda cute.” steve slid into the seat beside you, you on your lunch while steve was ignoring his job. you barely glanced his way, his words keeping you quiet, “aren’t you on the clock?” is all you said to him.

he clicked his tongue at that, “no one’s bothering us, robin and the new chick can handle it. wanted to stew in silence with you anyway.” giving a light nudge to your arm.

his words give you a moment of whiplash, nothing crash, but enough to have your stomach twist a bit. “you, uh- you going to robin’s get together?” stupid question that you know the answer to, but just needing to say something.

steve cocked his head at you, “course. not like i have anything better to do, but even if i did i’d ditch for her. and everyone, especially you.” things like that get you confused.

deciding now or never, with a slight tremor in your fingers, sliding out the bright white envelop you handed it in front of steve, “a christmas card with a little something extra, but i suggest you wait until you’re home.” rushing that last bit when you saw his fingers picking at the flap.

steve gave a quirked smile, “gave me a naughty gift?” his teasing words made your cheeks feel warm. you covered it up with an eye roll and a simple, “no stupid.”

-

you and steve don’t have matching days off, so you didn’t see each other for a week until robin’s little christmas hang. and those whole five days, you regretted your decision while also mentally standing your ground. what’s done is done, at least you did something very bold -and very stupid- but besides the point.

slowly sipping on your spiked eggnog, you spotted steve walking in your direction. the milk curdled in your stomach at the sight of his wobbly smile. “hey can i- can we go somewhere, private?” oh shit, it’s the conversation.

you nodded dumbly as you followed behind steve who lead you upstairs and what seemed to be robin’s bedroom. with the door shut you could barely hear the murmurs from the other side, locking you and steve inside your own bubble of brewing silence.

you sat on the edge of robin’s bed and played dumb, “so… what’s wrong?” watching how steve slowly turned on his heels to face you, and without saying a word his pointer and index fingers dipped into his front pocket then produced your folded note. you kept a poker face as well as steve.

“this is a nice note,” was how steve started his sentence. “and- and i have nothing against you. you’re an awesome and- and sweet person, i’d be extremely lucky if i get to call you mine one day. but i- i’m not sure if you’ve had your heart broken, but i have and it sucks, and i’m still slowly healing from that crap.”

you kept quiet as you let steve ramble, “and i think you’re just way too good for me. you deserve someone way better than me.” but i want you, is what you thought as baby tears gathered at your lash line. you just nodded along.

“and also… the new years thing.” that pulled an unexpected laugh from your lips. oh how you are just so naive and stupid, trying to ask steve to be your new years kiss then playing it off as a joke. you wish you could smack yourself right now.

“i’m not sure if you’ve ever done that, kissing in general, but again i think it should be with someone special. not me.” if you wanted to reject me you could’ve just been a bit meaner, this feels worse.

you gave a small cough, “yeah. i- i just wanted to get this off my chest. start fresh for the new year.” standing up to make your exit but then steve stepped in front of you, “i care about you a lot, y/n. and look- maybe someday i’ll be that guy for you, just not now. you’re still my best friend though, that won’t change.”

he threw his arms over your shoulders while his wrapped tight along his waist, your cheek pressing into his chest as your eyes stared heavily at robin’s bedroom door. you took a deep sigh before untangling yourself, “we should head back. rob’s probably looking for either of us.”

-

a/n: did something like this actually happen to me and this is a vent fic…yes😐

[msilwrites]

John Price's Home

✨ John Price’s Home - My Sims 4 Take 🎮

Hi, everyone! 👋 Remember how I mentioned in the A/N of my last chapter that the house described was inspired by @eleu22's moodboard for John Price’s home? Well, I loved it so much that I had to try my hand at bringing it to life—in The Sims 4! 😂

For those who might not remember, the A/N was from Chapter 11 of my Papa Bear Material story. It’s the chapter where John brings you to his home for the first time to spend the weekend together as a couple. That chapter was such a special turning point in their relationship, and I wanted to make sure the house really captured the warmth, cosiness, and charm of John’s character.

Whilst reading this, I want you to imagine John Price taking you here 😈—his home, his space, his rules. Just picture it: the cozy fireplace crackling, the scent of whisky lingering in the air, and that intense look he gives when it’s just the two of you. Go on, let your mind wander to the things he’d do… because trust me, he’s thought about it too.

This is my interpretation of what Captain Price’s home might look like, from the cozy interior to the overall vibe. I was inspired by @eleu22's vision—their moodboard really hit the spot! While I agreed with much of their design, I also put my own spin on it, tweaking it to suit how I imagine the Captain’s space.(So it’s more “inspired by” than a full recreation!)

Here’s a breakdown of what you’ll see:

📍 Structure - So, let’s start with the foundation of the place. The floors are a mix of old vintage tiles and polished hardwood—well-maintained and perfectly worn in with years of use, especially after John renovated the place. The walls? They’re made of rustic stone and sturdy brick, well-structured and kept in excellent condition. Captain Price inherited the house from his grandparents, and during his renovations, he made sure to preserve its warmth and charm while adding his own personal touch. You can almost feel the history and legacy of his family in every corner, a tribute to the generations that have lived here.

📍 Living Room - Warm, inviting, and just the right amount of rugged charm—because you know Price would keep it comfortable but not overly fancy. He has a cast iron fireplace installed underneath the original one, something he added during renovations for practicality and efficiency. The room is filled with old furniture, lots of books, and pictures of his late family, reflecting a deep sense of nostalgia. Price inherited his cottage from his grandparents, who originally owned the place. He lives somewhere around Kingston or Richmond—not too far from Central London but close enough to enjoy the woodland charm of the outskirts.

There’s also a door in the living room that leads directly to the garden outdoor area, adding a touch of tranquillity to the cosy space.

On the other end of the room, you’ll find a collection of vinyl records, a player, and an amplifier. I can absolutely see Captain Price brooding on the couch over his plans with a whisky or bourbon in hand, maybe even smoking one of his nice cigars, as he listens to Annie Lennox’s “Money Can’t Buy It” or something from Tears for Fears, The Police, Sting, Duran Duran, John Waite, or Spandau Ballet classics. And when he’s feeling especially emo or introspective, maybe even some modern ones like Adele or Hozier.

Duran Duran’s “Come Undone” or “Ordinary World,” and Sting’s “Fields of Gold” or “Shape of My Heart” would absolutely be on his playlist when he’s in one of those pensive moods. (And yes, Adele and Hozier have vinyls of their albums, and oh boy, they sound so good!) 😍

📍 Kitchen - Functional and homey, with a touch of practicality that screams "This man cooks bacon in a cast-iron skillet." It’s a rustic space filled with lots of old items, including his grandparents' porcelain plates, some newer ones, and a vintage stove. There’s even a little porcelain chicken figurine that’s been there for ages—he finds it cute, so it’s staying. At the centre is a wooden counter island, usually covered in food, seasonings, garnishes, and maybe a bottle of whisky or two. This man makes a proper snack.

📍 Dining Room - The dining room exudes rustic charm, with another iron cast fireplace that doubles as an oven, perfect for cooking and grilling. Above the fireplace, a collection of herbs hangs, adding a fresh, earthy touch to the room. On the left side of the fireplace, there’s a sturdy hutch or cabinet, stocked with all sorts of fine spirits and selected wines. Next to it is a well-stocked drink cart, ready for any occasion.

On the counter, a cheese dome sits, showcasing a selection of his favourite cheeses, because this man is absolutely obsessed with cheese. Under the cabinet, there’s a collection of different glasses for various types of alcohol. Two framed vintage posters hang on the wall—one detailing British cheeses and the other offering basic cheese knowledge, both adding a touch of humour and character to the space.

An old chandelier hangs above the center of the room, casting a warm, soft light, completing the intimate, cozy atmosphere.

📍 Bedroom - A simple but intimate space that feels like a retreat after long missions. The room features a cosy, old queen-size bed with vintage charm. At each end of the bed, there’s an old end table. One holds a book and a tray of water, while the other has a tablet, probably for late-night reading or catching up on work. A dresser sits nearby, topped with a vase of fresh flowers and an old replica painting of a famous artwork. At the foot of the bed is a comfy ottoman, perfect for kicking back after a long day, and an old chair is positioned beside the bed, as if ready for quiet moments of reflection. A large window lets in plenty of sunlight, warming up the room with natural light and creating the perfect atmosphere for relaxation.

📍 Study - The door to Captain Price’s study is cleverly disguised as a bookshelf. It’s the perfect example of understated secrecy—who would’ve guessed that behind the shelves of books lies one of his most brooding spaces? A place for the Captain to retreat and get even more pensive.

Against one wall, there’s a shelf where his most precious drinks and cigars are kept, along with a stash of biscuits and cookies (because, yes, he’s got a sweet tooth—don’t let the gruff exterior fool you). All of this is strictly for his own enjoyment, mind you—no sharing.

His main desk, made of dark wood, is set up with the kind of tech Simon—his favourite, and let’s face it, only tech-savvy lieutenant—would be proud of. Simon installed a desktop computer, added extra memory and a camera for his calls, and even set him up with a high-quality mic. He even picked out a nice pair of headphones for those brooding music sessions, where Captain Price likes to sip whisky, smoke cigars, and disappear into his thoughts. And just for extra fun, Simon also set up his music app account. (Yes, Captain Price still insists on listening to his vinyls downstairs, but hey, he’s trying with the tech stuff.)

In the corner, there’s a telescope pointed toward the window. When the Captain wants to look at the stars (or brood about something—again), he’s got a perfect view. This too was set up by Simon. Why Simon? Well, because he's Captain Price’s favourite lieutenant, of course—or, more accurately, his favourite IT support. Remember that time in the game when Kyle asked, “Why can’t it be you instead of me going in?” when they were about to assault a location? Price just casually responded with, “That’s why they call me Captain and you Sergeant.” Same deal with Simon—though in this case, Simon got a nice haul of rare whisky, bourbon, cheeses, and, naturally, cookies, all for setting up tech in one go. And when Price calls him in for IT support, Simon always tries to act like he’s somewhere else, hiding from the task, but we all know he secretly enjoys it (and the perks, obviously).

Books. There are lots of books on the tall bookshelf, as the Captain likes to read—mostly military thrillers, obviously, but don’t be surprised to find a few spy novels by John le Carré or Frederick Forsyth hidden in there. The shelf isn’t just limited to that genre, though. You’ll also find a collection of cookbooks (because, yes, Price can cook!), fishing guides, gardening books, and even some on carpentry—because he’s always been handy with his hands. Atop the bookshelf sits a vintage typewriter in a glass case—his grandparents’ typewriter, which he keeps as a display piece. It’s a touch of nostalgia, a little piece of his past that he can’t quite let go of.

Next to the bookshelf is a small study table with his laptop. This is where the Captain taps away at his keyboard, writing stories in his downtime. (Who knew, right? Captain Price, aspiring writer, channeling his inner Andy McNab.) Maybe one day, when he’s feeling confident, he’ll share a manuscript with someone—just don’t expect it to be anytime soon.

📍 Garden/Outdoor Area - Lush, peaceful, and perfect for a man who appreciates some fresh air and quiet moments. It’s filled with trees, shrubs, and greenery, and there’s even a small stretch of the River Thames running behind the property—a little slice of tranquility amidst the chaos of life.

I had so much fun building this and imagining every little detail. I hope you enjoy this peek into what I think John Price’s home might look like—Sims 4 style! Let me know your thoughts, and if you’ve got your own interpretations, I’d love to see them! And if you’d like me to do one for another character, drop your suggestions in the comments below! 🏡✨

[luvvictoria]

I’m yours

( ♡ ) pairing : Yuji Itadori x fem!girlfriend!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, age gap , idk bro

Yuji Itadori never thought much about love. His life, filled with fighting curses and the weight of his own destiny, left little room for romance. But then you came into his life —the girl who seemed to bring light wherever she went.

You were 15, with [lenght] , flowing [color] hair, your [color] skin glowing in the sunlight. You had soft, delicate features and a warm, gentle aura that drew people in. Your [color] eyes sparkled with kindness. You treated everyone around you with care, a rare quality that made you stand out in a world filled with chaos.

The first time Yuji saw you, you were helping another student pick up their books in the hallway, your soft voice offering comfort. Yuji watched from a distance, struck by how effortlessly kind you were. It wasn’t the grand gesture that caught his attention, but the way she made the small moments feel significant.

Days went by, and Yuji found himself drawn to you, watching you from afar, hoping for a chance to speak to you. His friends teased him about his obvious crush, but Yuji, always so brave on the battlefield, couldn’t seem to muster the same courage when it came to you.

It was a rainy afternoon when Yuji finally got his chance. He was heading home after a particularly grueling day of exorcising curses when he saw Victoria standing under a bus stop shelter, her umbrella broken, completely drenched.

Without thinking, Yuji rushed over, pulling his own umbrella over her head.

“Hey! You’re soaked,” he said, his concern obvious.

Victoria looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. Despite being cold and wet, she smiled, her dimples appearing as if the rain didn’t bother her at all.

“Thanks,” she said softly, “I didn’t expect the storm to hit so fast.”

Yuji laughed nervously, his heart racing. “Let me walk you home.”

Victoria hesitated for a moment but saw the sincerity in his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

As they walked side by side under the umbrella, Yuji felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. They talked about everything—her love for books, his dream to protect people, their shared favorite foods. It was easy with her. The world outside seemed to blur, the rain a soft soundtrack to their blossoming connection.

From that day on, Yuji and you spent more and more time together. You weren't a sorcerer, didn’t fight curses, but you brought peace into his chaotic life in a way no one else could. You would meet him after school, and you’d sit together, talking or just enjoying each other’s company. For you, Yuji was the most genuine person you had ever met. His smile, his kindness—it was impossible not to feel safe and cherished around him.

Yuji felt the same way. You made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the madness of his life. When you were with him, the weight of his responsibilities didn’t feel so heavy. It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him, but your heart—your ability to see the good in everyone, including him.

"I'm Yours"

One evening, under the glow of the setting sun, you and Yuji sat together on a park bench, watching the colors bleed into the sky. The world felt peaceful for once, and Yuji couldn’t hold back his feelings any longer. He turned to you, his voice soft but steady.

“I know my life is… complicated. But I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had felt the same way for a while but hadn’t known how to say it. Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into his honest eyes, full of both strength and vulnerability. You reached out, gently touching his hand.

“I’m yours too, Yuji,” you whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The curses, the dangers, the uncertainty of the future—it all seemed small compared to what you felt for each other. You didn’t need grand declarations or promises you couldn’t keep. What you had was simple, pure, and undeniable.

Yuji squeezed your hand, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. He knew that with you by his side, he could face anything. And for you, Yuji wasn’t just a hero who fought curses. He was the boy who had given you his umbrella in the rain, who made you laugh, who looked at you like she was the only person in the world.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat together, hands intertwined, knowing that whatever came next, you would face it together.

Because in the end, they belonged to each other.

[sparks-and-smoke]

Heyyo! Could I get a fic where Steve is a cowboy and flirts with you at the local rodeo?? Extra points if there is a confident lean in a doorway/on a post to get all up in readers face? ~insert eyebrow wiggle here~

**Squeals** I fucking love a cowboy. And a MODERN cowboy! My small town heart can’t take it. Side Note: this just made me wanna write a whole bunch of stuff for cowboy Steve and Bucky and it's all your fault. Thanks for combining my two hyperfixations. 

Characters/Pairings: cowboy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Content/Warnings: if you don't like rodeos, this one ain't for you. 

Author Note: I just… really like cowboy Steve.

Beta read by the ever lovely @voice-of-velhart

The county night rodeo was something you look forward to all year. Held at the fairgrounds outside of your little town nestled at the base of the foothills, it was the kind of event that made life in a little town like yours feel real. The lights, the food, the market, the roar of the crowd, but mostly. The cowboys. 

Ropers, racers, and riders from all over come to this little event every year to show off and make a little cash. The prizes for winning weren’t top notch, and they weren’t part of the certified circuit. So it wasn’t like  there were big names making their way through, but that was part of the fun. A lot of the competitors were just good old boys using skills they use everyday back on the ranch. 

Well, everyone but the bull and bronco riders. 

Riders were a breed of their own. In it for the thrill and the glory, really nothing productive comes out riding a bull. Save for broken bones and a back that can’t stand straight by 40. At least bronc riders are showing part of the skill it actually takes to break a horse, but bulls were a pure dick measuring contest. Which was half the fun. 

You told your friends as much as you settled into your seats in the front row. “I mean really it’s just about looking cool to the other guys ya know.”

“Oh, I don’t know. They look pretty cool to me too.” Hannah drooled as another rider walked by. Dark hat pulled low, his protective vest undone to reveal the dark shirt beneath. 

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, sure, there was a certain magnetism to men like that. A kind of gladiatorial bravado that came along with all needlessly dangerous things. But you knew bull riders, in most cases it really was all bravado and they almost never stayed. 

“Sexy, you mean they look sexy. Believe me once they open their mouth nine out of ten times they aren’t as cute. Now if you want a real cowboy you want a roper. Team roping or steer wrestling are my preferred but…” 

 “Teaching the lady how to catch a cowboy I see.” A voice as warm as whiskey radiated through you. You glance down to see a big golden cowboy draped over the fence below you, his wide shoulders and big arms taking up most of the panel. “Did she teach you the hat trick yet?”

You bite your cheek, trying to fight the urge to smirk back, because his smile was contagious. Paired with that brown Stetson and a pair of cornflower eyes that were looking at you like you were made of candy. You could see this man was a charmer. He was a rider, he had to be. And guessing by his gear and spurs probably a bull rider. 

“The hat trick?” Hannah asked, looking between you and the cowboy as you leaned back on your bench seat. 

“It’s just a game they play, a little trick good ol boys like him use to claim a girl at events like these.” 

“Oh, come on now darlin’, it’s a rule not a game.” You roll your eyes. Having never been too impressed with men who thought they could claim you with a hat. “Wear the hat and ride the cowboy.” He clarifies for Hannah, with a wink making her giggle. But his glaze immediately falls back on you. “I’m Steve by the way.” 

“I don’t recall asking.” You tease. But Hannah gives you a smack on the arm, her eyes boring into the side of your head. Clearly already under this pretty cowboys spell. Amateur. 

“It’s ok darlin’, I'll give you that one for free. Can I have your name?” he asks, taking a step farther up the panel to get a better look at you. He really was massive, his vest only emphasizing the sheer size of him. Now under the full weight of his gaze it was almost hard not to squirm the way that his singular focus zeroed in on you. You gave your name, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. “That sure is pretty, almost as pretty as you. Couldn’t pass up a chance to talk to you. Will you be around after the Broncos?”

You would in fact be around. The rodeo was a weekend long event and your work gave out free tickets so you planned on being back, but you didn’t know if you were ready to tell him all that yet. “Maybe, but I take it you will?”

“What do you think darlin? Yeah I’ll be here all week in fact.” Hannah is staring into the side of your head, her gaze boring a hole into your temple. You have the feeling she is wondering why you haven’t caved, and honestly under other circumstances you would have. “I get the feeling you don't like us cowboys darlin’...” 

“I don't have any problem with cowboys, I just don’t play with bull riders.”

Steve raises a brow, a chuckle rumbling his chest. Damn it, even his laughter sounded warm. “Well, lucky me I’m not a bull rider.”

~~~~

Turns out Steve is a roper. Team with a guy named Sam and they are good. Amazing. Steve never misses. By the end of his first 6 second run your mind is filled with sinful thoughts about how good he is with the rope. 

They slowly work their way up the bracket. Every run seemed a little more impressive as they immobilized their steers with an ease that seemed above the skill bracket of the teams around them. Sam and his mare just seem to fly across the arena, swooping in after Steve grabs the horns to easily rope the hind leg and pull the steer taunt. They win first without a shadow of a doubt.

 As Steve and Sam go to collect their buckles Steve eyes search the crowd. Blue eyes focused on finding someone in particular. 

They land on you, with a flash of perfect white teeth and a tip of the hat he reminds you not so subtly that he expects to see you at the bar after this. You don't know whether to throw your popcorn at him or melt into a puddle and slide under the bleachers. 

God damn it. You are so gonna ride that cowboy…

[sorinethemastermind]

Fluffcember 2024: Family Gathering| Rayllum & Sorvus & Clauderry Callum is determined to ask Rayla to be his girlfriend this Winter Break. But if he can't even start a fire, how is he supposed to create the perfect moment? Soren has decided to stay on campus this Christmas, but with Rayla and Callum as his only company, he's starting to feel like a third wheel. Except maybe it's not just the three of them left on campus after all. Meanwhile Claudia is trying to have a nice Christmas with her family, but maybe her family isn't at home...

 Rayla watched Soren go with all the rest of them, and winced a little bit as she heard the door shut behind him with a loud click. Harrow cast an apologetic glance around the room.

 “Anybody got any dishes for me to do? I’m about to run a load.”

 “I can help.” Rayla blurted before she could think better of it, rising to her feet. 

 He smiled at her. “Thank you, Rayla.”

 She trailed after him, collecting a few empty plates, and they went into the kitchen. 

 “You have a lovely home.” she said after a moment, voice sounding flat even to her own ears. She cringed.

 Harrow turned on her, eyes narrowing. “So, you think you’re good enough for my Callum, do you?”

 Rayla’s eyes widened and she froze before squaring her shoulders and taking a defiant step forward. “Yes. I do.”

 His expression melted into a boisterous laugh. “Good. I think so, too.”

 Rayla felt her face grow warm. “You were messing with me.”

 “And smart, too.” Harrow winked at her. “Yes, I was messing with you. Sorry if I gave you a start.” He turned on the sink, starting to wash the dishes they’d brought in from the living room. “Callum talks about you a lot.”

 “He does?” Rayla felt the flush in her cheeks intensify.

 “Yes. All the time, in fact. You’re just about the only thing that seems to be on his mind.”

 “And what does he say?” Rayla asked, leaning on the counter, a little curious.

 Harrow chuckled. “All good things. He says that you’re very smart, and funny, and kind. And that you don’t give yourself enough credit.” he glanced over at her. “You don’t have to try and prove anything to me. If Callum likes you, then that’s good enough for me.”

 Rayla let out a breath, smiling. “Thank you.”

 “Oh, don’t thank me yet. I’m not the one you need to impress.” Harrow asked, returning his attention to the dishes. “That’s his Aunt Amaya.”

 Rayla gave him a nervous look. “And… how likely am I to impress her?”

 “Depends.” Harrow threw her a sidelong glance, smiling. “Do you have any plans to break my son’s heart?”

 “Of course not-” Rayla spluttered.

 “Then you should do just fine.” Harrow grinned at her. “So, how did you two meet?”

 “I’d have thought he already told you, seeing as he talks about me all the time.”

 “He did. But I want to hear it from you.”

 “Well,” Rayla began, “it was in fencing club. I mean, technically we’d met before then, but I didn’t know his name or anything. But then he showed up at fencing club and he was just so awful at it-” she laughed fondly, remembering the way he’d tripped over his own feet “-but he kept coming every week, and I couldn’t figure out why and then one day we got paired together and…”

 “The rest was history?” Harrow offered.

 “Nah, I kicked his butt.” Rayla smirked. “Then the rest was history.”

 “He didn’t mention that bit, oddly enough.” he said, drying off the last dish and putting it away. “He just said that you asked him out.”

 “I did that after.”

 “And what made you want to ask him out, if you had just wiped the floor with him.” Harrow asked, leaning back against the counter to look at her.

 “That he kept showing up.” Rayla admitted. “Even after everyone on the team had walloped him. Plus, he was cute.”

 Harrow laughed. “He is determined. He gets that from his mother.”

 “She sounds lovely.” Rayla offered, seeing the shadow flicker across his face. 

 “She was.” Harrow said. “The strongest, kindest person I’ve ever met. Callum says you remind him of her. I think he’s right.” “Oh.” Rayla tucked a strand of hair out of her face. “Thank you.”

 Harrow smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

 The door creaked open nearby and Rayla turned around, glancing into the hall. She watched as Corvus melted out of the shadows and held his arms open for Soren, letting his partner hide in them. She took a step towards them, but Harrow placed a hand on her shoulder.

 “Go back out to the others, and bring that plate of food.” he inclined his head towards a nearby tray of snacks on the counter. “I’ll handle this.”

 She nodded, taking it and starting back towards the living room, where she could hear the others debating which movie to put on next. Something made her linger, though, just outside the doorway. She heard Harrow’s voice, quiet and calm.

 “Are you alright?”

 Then Corvus’, quieter still. “Just give us a minute.”

 “Wait-” Soren sounded a little strained, like he was fighting to keep his voice level. “That friend of yours you mention, would they still-”

 “I’ll text you their information.” Harrow replied. “There’s an empty guest room up the stairs and to the left, if you need a minute before rejoining the others..”

 “Thank you.” Corvus' voice came again, and then she heard their footsteps recede.

 Rayla smiled. Harrow reminded her of someone, too.

 It hadn’t been easy, leaving her home and going someplace entirely new. Especially after everything. It had felt like leaving the last little remnants of her parents behind. Like they’d stayed and she’d gone, somehow. Even though it had been the opposite. She’d thought she would be all alone; no family and no home.

 But Ethari had opened his arms and welcomed her in immediately. Not because she was flesh and blood, not because it had been easy (she had certainly not made it that), but because some people are just fathers whether you’re their flesh and blood or not. Some people are just family. 

 Rayla carried the little platter of food out to yet another family that had found her and welcome her in.

[torgawl]

someone was cutting onions during the lantern rite cutscene

[ienvieu]

the irony that is me loving my parents and still them being the two people i am the least honest to and feel the least safe with my secrets

[your-internet-bf]

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

[scatteredraysofhope]

@strawberryfaced I just thought you might also relate^^

This is going to sound so out of the blue but can I just say thank GOD for sweet retail workers??

Like I've had a particularly bad week Horrors wise, the anxiety is literally crushing my chest, and so I couldn't make myself go to college and have like, y'know, as much social interaction as I normally would with friends and stuff.

But the interactions I did have were with the food deliverymen and the retail workers at IKEA and I know it's like a three second interaction at most but when they smiled at me after answering my question or they had a kind voice or they just exchanged a few casual words it fucking MADE my day.

I've seen people talk about how important those less intense interactions with strangers are for mental health and stuff but I really really felt it this week.

Just, man. I've had a lot of lovely and chaotic interactions with retail workers before and those are fun stories for another time but just, even those casual smiles or a gentle tone when helping out, it means so much. And maybe sometimes it's for the job, but even then, it still heals me, just a bit.

And it must be really difficult when so many customers are shitty and the pay is next to nothing and you're treated so poorly, and I wouldn't blame every single retail worker for being extremely on edge and disillusioned, but somehow, sometimes, you manage to find it in you to have a gentle voice and a genuine smile or laugh and just know how grateful I am for y'all. It's like crawling out of my mind expecting the world to be hell but then someone is unexpectedly kind and it's so healing.

So, um, this has been very rambly and I'm not entirely sure I made sense, but thank you. Thank you for existing.

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 | Jonathan Crane

NOTES -> Hello hello! im gonna be in uni full time again starting first week of september so uploads will be much slowerrrr im sorry. I’ll try to write as much as i can for u my little loves!

REQUEST -> Based off the prompt 15 from this list here

SUMMARY -> Your boss, Jonathan Crane, plans on isolating you away from your old life, consuming you whole until you become nothing but devoted to him...and you're too naive to see the mind games that the expert psychiatrist is playing.

WORD COUNT -> 3.3k

WARNINGS -> Smut, p in v, soft!dark Jonathan, doctor/nurse relationship, boss/employee relationship, creampie

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jonathan felt his chest tighten as he narrowed his blue eyes behind his glasses. His focus was locked on you and only you, along with the orderly speaking to you for the last few minutes.

You were a nurse at Arkham, young and bright-eyed, so full of energy — and that caught Jonathan’s attention. Your unusually cheerful demeanour and sweet aura drew him in, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was how you’d always give him a cute little wave every time he’d pass by you, or maybe it was how you’d smile at him when everyone else seemed to cower away from the stoic doctor. 

Or maybe it was because once he saw you leaving work in your everyday clothes instead of your usual scrubs, and when you seemingly bent over to pick up your keys which you dropped on the ground, he could see the lace of your pink panties poking out of your low-rise sweatpants — but I guess we’ll never know. 

See, that was the problem. You were so sweet, but you were like that with everyone you worked with; which made Jonathan feel inferior in many ways, but he promised himself that he’d have you eventually.

He didn’t want to hurt you by any means — oh god, no. He’d rather torture himself than watch you suffer through any anguish. However, he did want everyone around you to fall victim to a rather sinister fate if it meant they stayed away from you. 

Jonathan didn’t really consider himself a sadist, but watching those around you seemingly go missing and suddenly quit their jobs at Arkham (unwillingly, of course), derived an innate sense of pleasure within him. 

That was one of the perks of being the chief psychiatrist — he had all the power in the world to do whatever he pleased within the walls of Arkham, no matter who he hurt in the process. Jonathan would quietly fire many employees who he felt were “too friendly” with you, but he’d always tell you that they’d mysteriously quit or that they had changed jobs. 

“Perhaps they just didn’t have it in them to help the…unique patients we house here,” he’d say to you. “Not everyone is as dedicated and as kind as you are, you know?” 

Foolishly, you let his flattery get into your head; you let yourself fall for him without even realizing it.

You believed that the universe divinely guided you to him. You were sure of it — he was just so kind and understanding. You couldn’t believe the other staff of Arkham didn’t see him the way you did! How could they dislike him? Fear him? 

To Jonathan, you were like an angel that fell from above, capturing his cold, dead heart within your warm, beating, and very alive one. You were so kind to the patients, so gentle with them — and your patients only ever had good things to say about you. 

As you spoke to the orderly in front of you about what you did over the weekend, you noticed your boss looking rather tense from the corner of your eye. His jaw was clenched slightly, and his expression unforgiving. He exhaled sharply before ushering you over toward him, causing you to excuse yourself from your current conversation. 

“Doctor Crane,” you greeted sweetly, “how are you?”

“I’m rather stressed today,” he answered softly, taking on that same gentle tone that he always seemed to take with you. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, but I'm worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side slightly as if to emphasize your confusion. 

“I think perhaps we should speak in my office about this,” he offered. “Come with me, please.” 

Your smile suddenly faltered slightly as anxiety and paranoia ran rampant through your veins.

Your paranoid thoughts had to be put on the back burner as you took a seat across from him in his office, watching him as he sat down at his desk. His suit was pristine as always — and today, he opted for a brown sweater vest underneath it.

You’d count every thread and stitch on his suit for him if he asked you to. 

“Doctor Crane—”

“Just Jonathan is fine,” he interrupted before clearing his throat. “I wanted to speak to you in private about a certain concern of mine.” 

“What is it?”

He sighed before he took off his glasses and meticulously placed them on his desk. He leaned forward slightly, and you stayed quiet as he hesitated for a moment before his smooth voice finally cut through the silence in his office between the two of you. 

“I’m worried that you may be overworking yourself,” he explained, looking at you with his tantalizing eyes. “I notice you pick up shifts and work overtime frequently, and I worry that you may be taking on more than you can handle. As your boss, I just want to make sure that you’re not burning yourself out as that can’t be good for you, and I believe in a healthy work-life balance.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth, unsure as to what you could say to him — that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say to you. Perhaps you had been overworking yourself, but that was just a part of you. Having a strong work ethic was something you strongly believed in, but maybe he was right. You couldn’t care for your patients if you were too exhausted to, right? 

Now that he mentioned it, you were quite tired today. You started to think about it — as of recently, you’d been slamming coffees left right and center to stay awake at work, hadn’t you? You just wanted to help out since you were fairly new around here, but maybe it was doing you more damage than good.

Jonathan saw your usually cheerful demeanour deflate in his office, and he looked at you sympathetically, “I know this is not something you’d want to hear, especially from your boss of all people — but I just want to ensure that all my staff are doing well, you know?”

You bit your lip for a mere second, hesitating to speak before you let the words fall from your lips, “You know, Jonathan, sometimes I feel like you’re the only person here who actually…cares about me.” 

He internally applauded himself — in a moment of vulnerability, you sought out comfort in him. Just like he had planned. Just like he wanted.

“I think you’re an exceptional nurse,” he mused, “and truthfully, I do enjoy working alongside you. So yes, of course, I care about you. I remember when I first started working after finishing my residency, I would exhaust myself constantly. I’ve learned through many years that it’s just not good for you.” 

Jonathan’s plan was being executed perfectly — he wanted to isolate you. He wanted you to come running into his arms, far away from everyone else around you. He was on his worst behaviour today, but he believed you brought out the best in him. 

You weren’t overworking yourself, but with Jonathan’s quick wit, years of training in psychology, and exceptional gaslighting skills, you thought perhaps he was right. Maybe you should take some time off of work, you thought.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, “how about you and I have drinks tonight instead? Forget about work and such. I think you need it.”

His words caused your cheeks to heat up. He was your boss, and this was way out of line for a boss to ask an employee. However, it didn’t help that you were very attracted to him.

“Drinks?”

“My place at eight. I have a bottle of cabernet I think you’d enjoy — If I remember correctly, you said it was your favourite?” 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “It is.” 

“So I'll see you tonight at eight, then,” he smiled softly, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “I’ll text you my address.” 

You nodded, slightly starstruck. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Once you’d parked your car on the side of the neighbourhood street, you stepped out into the chilly night, your high heels clicking against the pavement of the ground loudly as you made your way onto his porch.

You gave three soft raps to his front door before you heard shuffling coming from inside the house. After a few moments, the front door swung open gently, and Jonathan stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Come inside,” he ushered you, “make yourself at home, darling.”

And so you did. 

You two talked over a few glasses of cabernet, bringing up the topic of work a few times here and there, but he mostly attempted to get to know the real you. What you did in your spare time, what your hobbies were, if you were seeing anyone…

“Out of curiosity, are you seeing anyone?” Jonathan asked you casually, but his voice dropped an octave as he looked directly at you, resting his hand on your thigh rather boldly. “I’m asking because I've seen the way you look at me…” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered, your cheeks feeling warmer and warmer by the second with the way his hand was now resting on your leg. You couldn’t deny it now. “I didn’t mean…um, I just — you’re always so kind to me…and I–”

He shushed you softly, creeping his hand up a little further. “I’m quite flattered, darling. Not to worry,” he purred. “I figured it wouldn’t be very appropriate of me to tell you how hard it is for me to not look at you when you’re at work, but after today, I just don’t think I can help myself anymore…” 

Suddenly, his lips brushed up against yours, and as if it was instinct, your hands came to wrap around his shoulders. He let you pull him in even closer, his hands now coming to rest on your hips as you two kissed feverishly on his couch.

You and him were like a chemical reaction — explosive, unpredictable, and potentially fatal.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses. 

A shiver ran down your spine as his hold on your hips tightened slightly, his words causing your brain to short-circuit for a moment before you could think clearly again. 

“Jonathan, I–”

“Don’t speak, just give into it, my darling.”

You let yourself get lost in the constellation that was Jonathan Crane, letting him run his hands all over your body and kiss you with an insatiable hunger. Soft moans left your mouth as he peppered kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the delicate skin gently. 

You would’ve been worried about him leaving marks because you wouldn’t want your boss to see the next day at work — but you had to remind yourself that he was your boss. 

But none of that mattered when it felt so right; when his lips felt so good against your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he rasped, toying with the strap of your dress. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Please, Jonathan…”

Slowly, he took the dress off of your body, gently tossing the garment to the side as he looked at you in absolute awe. It was like looking at a priceless piece of art in a museum exhibit to him — nothing could compare. Even a picture wouldn’t do the sight in front of him justice. 

“Should we go upstairs?” you suddenly asked. 

Maybe it was the handful of wine you’d shared that evening, or maybe it was just sheer arousal; you weren’t sure which one, but all you knew was that you needed him to have his way with you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, taking your hand in his. “Just up the stairs to the left — I think I'll let you lead the way, darling…”

The two of you got up from the couch, hand in hand, and Jonathan’s eyes roamed your body from behind as you made your way up the stairs together. 

Of course, you came prepared — you know, just in case things were to happen. Before you left, you threw on your sexiest, laciest, lingerie underneath your dress, and it was a good thing you did because that investment certainly paid off.

He watched your hips sway in your lingerie, along with the heels you were still wearing (because we simply can’t forget about those), and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled from behind you. “Your body is heavenly.” 

“Shush,” you giggled, grabbing him by his tie and pulling him close once you reached the bedroom. 

He looked down at you in the dim lighting of his bedroom, noticing the way your skin was glowing under it. Your hair was slightly messy from making out on the couch earlier, and you had a small smile tugging at your lips — you were perfection if he’d ever seen it. 

Jonathan kissed you rougher this time, his hands finding their way into your hair, tugging ever so gently against your scalp. He backed you up onto the bed, pushing you down onto it as he undid his tie, looming over your delicate body which was sprawled out on his king-sized bed. 

After taking his tie off, he threw off his suit jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. You hummed softly, running your heel against his leg as he rushed to get himself out of his clothes. The tent in his pants made it all the more obvious how desperate he truly was for you, but you stayed patient. 

Once he was on the bed with you, he helped you out of your bra and panties, causing your cheeks to heat up from how exposed you felt. “You’re cute when you blush,” he commented when he noticed your blush, making you all the more flustered while he undid his belt. 

After freeing himself, his thick, veiny cock caught your attention, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. He was big — you weren’t sure how that was supposed to fit, but right now you were so wet, you were almost certain your walls would stretch out around him with ease. 

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, giving himself a few strokes before looking at you with his lip caught between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

Your back was arched and you let out a filthy moan as he slid himself into your warm, sticky cunt with little resistance. The sheer size of him alone had you feeling so full, and he stilled as he bottomed out in you so that you could adjust to him. “Tell me when,” he said softly, his hand coming to brush up against your hips softly. 

“You can move now,” you breathlessly said, giving him the green light. Your breath got caught in your throat as he started to set a gentle but deep pace, the tip of his cock brushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust. 

“O-oh–” you moaned.

His hands found purchase on your hips, and his eyes trailed over your face as he fucked you sensually, but slowly, eventually going harder and faster as you got accumulated to him. “So fucking tight, Jesus—” he choked out. You’d never heard him curse before, and his smooth voice had you clenching around him, to which he let out another moan. “Fuck, darling — you feel so good.” 

“Mm-hmm!” you squeaked, taking his cock deeper and deeper into your soaked cunt with every stroke. “Jonathan, fuck—!”

“Right there, darling?” he cooed softly, slamming his cock into your hole much rougher now, causing you to see stars as he stretched you open on his thickness. “Feels good, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes — oh my god!” you chanted, grabbing onto his biceps as you felt his fat cock drilling you. You were letting out feverish moans, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you became increasingly more cock-drunk by the minute. 

Your moans were like music to Jonathan. Like the sound he would hear being played once he died and went to heaven — because to him, this was heaven. You’d come running into the arms of the man who was slowly isolating you, breaking you; cornering you into his heart. 

But there’s always something so right about something so inherently wrong, isn’t there? 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he groaned, watching you with furrowed brows as he concentrated on your pleasure. “Are you close, darling? Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered breathlessly, moans being forced out of you with every delicious thrust he gave your cunt. “Gonna– oh, I’m gonna cum!” 

Jonathan watched in a mixture of pure bliss, awe, and satisfaction as you fell apart in his very hands. Yes — this is where he wanted you. He just wanted to love you, to show you how perfect he was for you, to take care of you and make you see that everyone else around you was just a waste of time. 

No more talking to orderlies who’d flirt with you, no more going out for after-work drinks with the other nurses. No, none of that. He was going to make sure that you’d work under him only, figuratively and literally.

“Gon’ cum,” he groaned, feeling his cock spurting ropes of cum into your warm, tight hole as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, not bothering to pull out. Your mind went blank as he filled you up wholly, stuffing you with his sticky, warm seed as you lay there fucked out from what just happened moments prior. “Why don’t you stay over tonight?”

You looked up at him groggily, mind still foggy from your orgasm. “What? I work tomorrow–”

“Take a paid day off,” he shrugged, pulling his softening cock out from your worn-out hole. “Use as many as you’d like darling, I won’t tell.” 

His teasing words caused you to throw your head back into the pillows blissfully with a sigh, genuinely believing that he only had your best interest at heart — he just didn’t want you to overwork yourself. It’s not like he was planning on totally locking you away from every living being in Gotham besides him or anything…

“I feel bad though,” you murmured sleepily. “I feel like I’m – I dunno – abusing my privileges.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty girl,” Jonathan assured you softly, turning off the lights so that only the moonlight was dimly shining into his bedroom. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled the covers over you both, cradling you in his arms like you were made of fine china. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“You’re so lovely, Jon. You truly have such a kind soul.” 

“Surely nothing compared to yours, my darling,” he whispered against your hair as you closed your eyes. “Now, get some rest. We can talk about moving your things in here in the morning…”

Unfortunately, you had already dozed off in his embrace; too busy being washed away by sleep to hear his words. Jonathan smiled to himself — he’d never let you go now. You’d lost all control the moment you stepped into his house, unknowingly making yourself a hostage of some sort.  

In the end, as you clung to him, believing he was the saviour from your exhaustion, you failed to see that it was his “love” that had slowly consumed you whole, leaving you nothing but a hollow shell, devoured by the very hands that promised refuge.

Sometimes, the most dangerous traps are the ones we walk into willingly, thinking they’re the key to our freedom, as they say. But the cruel irony of it all is that we think we’re being saved from the jaws of this terrible world, only to be eaten alive by those who we call our saviours. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Taglist -> @girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

[princessbellecerise]

Baby Blues

Summary ✩ After six months of being married, you and Cregan are still struggling to conceive, leading to you becoming insecure and slightly jealous in your marriage

Warnings ✩ Angst, jealousy, mentions of infertility and pregnancy, self doubt, insecurity, happy ending though

Notes ✩ This is based off of a request and I hope I did it justice. I did put a little twist on it just to make it a little extra angsty but enjoy!

Cregan pulled the covers back and grinned.

A little over a month had passed since your last moon blood, and now that a safe amount of time had gone by, he felt excitement fill him at the idea that you were finally with child.

The two of you had been trying ever since you got married six months ago, but it seemed that the Gods had not yet deemed you fit to be parents. It’s something that’s worried both you and Cregan, as it wasn’t like there was a lack of trying between the two of you, and the Maesters said that you both were healthy. Realistically, your belly should be swollen by now but it just hadn’t happened.

Now though, Cregan felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest. Beside him, you shifted and rolled over sleepily to see why your husband had taken the covers from you. You were cold, but once you saw what he was looking at you immediately warmed up.

“It still hasn’t come,” You realized, fighting a smile. Your heart beating a little faster as you saw the clean sheets.

“No. No it hasn’t,” Cregan, trying and failing to conceal his own grin, said. “It’s been next to two months now.”

“Which could mean nothing,” You chewed your lip, reminding him that sometimes a woman’s blood could be late. But Cregan chose to be optimistic.

“Or…”

You squealed as suddenly, your husband pulled you into his arms and peppered kisses all over your neck. Laughter filled your chambers as you tried to push him away, but Cregan held you firm, his hands gentle as they pressed against your belly. “Mayhaps my seed has finally taken.”

“Mhmm. Well, we’ll see about that,” You said cautiously, not wanting to get your hopes up until you knew for sure. More time would need to pass before you allowed yourself to truly believe, as the heartbreak of your moon blood simply being late would be devastating. You were already worried that something was wrong with your womb and the longer you went without getting pregnant, the more that worry grew.

Over the next few days, you held caution close to your chest as a way to shield yourself in case Cregan was wrong. In case this time was just false hope like all the others, but as the days went on and suddenly it became a month and two weeks without getting your moon blood, you caved.

You and Cregan couldn’t stop grinning the moment you finally revealed to the Maester what was happening. It was too early to be one hundred percent sure, but he assured you that it was a good sign and only time would tell. Despite this, Cregan insisted on celebrating the incident, claiming that there needed to be a feast held to honor the coming of a new heir. Your husband was so excited that you didn’t even have the heart to dissuade him, admittedly excited yourself.

As the Lady of the castle, you made the plans and collaborated with the Maester to send out invitations. And within two more weeks, all of the nearest houses in the North were gathered at Winterfell, happy and merry as they celebrated you and Cregan.

It was a lively feast, and definitely the most exciting event in the North for a while. Cregan had insisted on having the best ale present and the best food, as it was summer and their stores had extra to spare.

You had never seen your husband so alive; so filled with happiness and joy as he drank to his new heir. Of course, you were being moderate and only stuck to cider or water, but you didn’t mind. At least you’d be sober enough to remember this night, and the way that it filled you with such love to see everyone so happy.

To you, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulder and the fear of disappointing Cregan and the North faded. You knew it was silly, as Cregan had reassured you many times that he’d still love you even if you couldn’t provide him with a child, but fulfilling your duty had been drilled into your head since you were born and now you could rest.

You were pregnant, hopefully, and your days of waking up and feeling like a failure were over. That night, you ate, you laughed, you toasted to your unborn babe and you held Cregan tight when later, he whispered to your non-existent baby bump.

“Helloooo thereeee. I’m…I’m your father,” He slurred while you laughed, unable to help yourself as you knew he was one hundred percent piss drunk.

“My love, I think we should be going to bed so you can sleep this off,” You told him, but Cregan waved you off and rested his head on your belly.

“Just…just a minute,” He told you, and he seemed to sober up a little as a small sigh left his lips. “I wanna…I wanna say a few words to our little wolf.”

He pressed a delicate kiss to the exposed skin and nuzzled your belly with his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It took…it took a while for you to get here, didn’t it? Your mother and I…we were worried. I thought…I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me at first and that’s why you didn’t come, but I’m glad to know that me cock still works.”

“Cregan!” You were both amused and a little surprised to hear that it was him he blamed for such a wait, not you. You never realized that your husband felt responsible for not being able to conceive these past few months, and it both saddened your heart and made you feel less alone to know that he carried the same guilt on his shoulders.

“It was no one’s fault the babe took so long,” You reassured him gently, running a hand through his hair. Cregan sighed at your touch, leaning into your lap as he nodded.

“Aye. It just seems like our little wolf is stubborn is all,” He smiled.

He finished off his speech with a few more words of love to your belly, and the entire time you felt yourself smiling bigger and bigger. By the time Cregan had finished, finally stumbling into bed and grumbling about a headache, you were sure that your cheeks were going split from smiling so much. Words couldn’t describe how full your heart felt, how much you were overflowing from sheer happiness and joy. Everything you had ever dreamed of was coming true and it was all because of the little babe growing in your belly.

“Good night, my little moon,” You smiled as you placed a hand over it, almost as a way to protect them as you fell asleep. Sometime during the night, you felt Cregan’s large hand doing the same, and together your warm hands protected your little miracle.

—

The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining on your face. Yawning, you reached over to say good morning to Cregan, only to find the bed empty.

He must have gotten up early, you thought with a frown.

You thought about yesterday, about how carefree and happy your husband had been. He was so excited to know that he was getting another child, excited that little Rickon would have a younger sibling to protect. You were sad to think that he now had to focus on his duties again, but what could you do?

Duty never waits for anyone.

Trying to shake off your disappointment, you cradled your stomach and sat up in bed. After stretching and taking a small sip of water from the pitcher your maids had left you, you yawned again and threw the covers back.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh Gods. Oh no, no, no!”

You scrambled up in a panic as tiny dots of blood stained your sheets, your eyes wide and your stomach dropping to your feet. Horrified, you placed a shaking hand over your mouth as denial flooded your veins—but the proof was there plain as day.

“No. No, no, no! This can’t be happening,” You whimpered, falling to your knees as you touched the satin material.

How could this be possible? You hadn’t…you hadn’t bled for two months, and now all of a sudden your moon blood decided to show up? After everything…the feast, Cregan’s speech last night…

You shook your head as tears blurred your vision. Utter rage and devastation seemed to fill your heart as you sobbed, clutching your stomach as your whole body shook.

Both shame and embarrassment washed over you, knowing that the womb you cradled was empty. All those celebrations, all the toasts and the speeches that were given…it was for nothing.

You weren’t pregnant, and just like that you were back in the same position you were when you first arrived in Winterfell.

Scared. Heartbroken when your moon blood still came after the bedding. Terrified as the thought of being barren and unable to bare Cregan another child haunted you.

All of a sudden, those fears came running back to you and it made you want to throw up. It made you want to shout and scream, ask the Gods what they hated you so much as to allow this.

Why? Why have you all cursed me? Why won’t you let me bare my husband’s child? Am I not good enough? Am I just not meant to be a mother?

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Despite what the Gods thought, you refused to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it, not willing to accept that you had let Cregan down, again.

Gods, and he had been so excited to be a father again. You knew that he always wanted a big family, but sadly his first wife had passed away in childbirth. It had taken him two years to remarry, and now he was stuck with only one son and a second wife that was probably barren.

A cruel fate he had been dealt, really.

And now, as you stared at the droplets of blood staining the sheets, an ugly feeling crawled its way through your chest. Something that felt akin to jealousy, which you knew was ridiculous and borderline sinful.

It was an ugly, awful thing to envy a dead woman—and you swore to yourself that you never would. You knew how much Cregan loved you, and you were mature enough to know that one person could hold love in their heart for two people. Still though, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Arra might have died for it, but at least she gave him an heir. I cannot even offer him anything, You thought bitterly.

The realization just made you cry harder, wondering if when Cregan found out he’d lose his patience with you. You wondered if your husband would curse the Gods as you did; ask them why they’d taken his perfectly good wife away from him and cursed him with a barren one.

You knew that he wouldn’t, as deep down you knew your husband was not that kind of man. Grief however had skewed your mind, and it made you not think straight as you scrambled up.

Wiping your tears, you leaned over the bed and tore the sheets off with one pull. In a frenzy, and motivated by the desire to not let Cregan see them, you stuffed them deep within your closet and sobbed.

You don’t remember when you dressed yourself, or when you even left the room, really.

All you knew was that everything felt like a blur, the whole world passing you by as you aimlessly wandered through Winterfell.

You don’t remember what you were even looking for or why, but eventually you found yourself somewhere that surprised even you. In the hallway of an abandoned corridor, staring at the portrait of Cregan’s late wife.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to go there, or to even stay once you realized what it was. But something kept you rooted to your spot, and you found yourself entranced as you stared at the artwork.

Arra was beautiful, that was for sure. She had long dark hair, common amongst the Northerners, and big blue eyes that seemed to stare at you accusingly.

From what you’d heard from Cregan, she was his childhood sweetheart. Kind and generous, your husband had once reassured you that she’d love even you, when you were once worried that her ghost would somehow blame you for stealing her husband and child.

“Arra was a gentle soul,” Cregan explained, “And she’d love you for the simple fact that you make me happy, and that you are going to be a wonderful mother to her son and his siblings.”

Now, you wondered if that would still hold true. You had failed at the last part, and surely once Cregan found out, the happiness he once found with you would fade.

You wondered if then Arra would still be so accepting of you; a woman who had stolen her husband and her child and couldn’t even do anything to keep him happy.

It haunted you to think so. Sent a burning feeling through your chest. A feeling of failure. A feeling of jealousy, that this woman had given your husband everything you’d ever wanted to give him and more. A feeling of sadness when you realized that she had died for it, and now her place had been taken by someone as useless as you.

A few hours later, that’s where Cregan found you. Staring at the portrait of Arra Norrey, crying your eyes out over a dead woman, his late wife, and the babe that never even existed in your womb.

“Y/N?” Cregan approached you cautiously, alarm and panic in his eyes as he saw you sunken on the floor. You hadn’t know it yet, too caught up in your grief, but you’d been missing pretty much the entire day and no one had been able to find you since this morning.

The sun had long set, and just when Cregan felt like he was about to lose his mind, he remembered one last place he hadn’t checked. A place he used to visit all the time when he was a child, hiding and sneaking away with his now late wife. But he hadn’t had the heart to visit since she died, not until the possibility of you being in danger arose.

It was here that he found you, and immediately your husband rushed over to you, taking you into your arms and inspecting you for any signs of danger as you cried.

“What has happened? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Somehow, you managed to force the word out, shaking your head as you tried to quiet yourself. You hadn’t meant for him to find you like this, honestly you hadn’t. You’d meant to go find him hours ago and tell him the news, but you were stuck to this spot and you couldn’t move. The entire day you’d been paralyzed with grief and it was obvious you weren’t okay even though you tried to convince him you were.

“I’m fine, Cregan. Really,” You told him, but of course he didn’t believe you.

He reached a hand out to touch your face, wiping your tears as he set his torch down. The new angle allowed you to see his face better, to see the worry and the panic and the grief.

You curled into yourself even more knowing that you had probably caused it, and knowing that you were about to add to it even more.

“Y/N, what happened?” Cregan demanded. He was perplexed. “Why have you been down here the entire day? It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been searching for you for hours. Everyone was worried, I was going out of my mind thinking that something awful had happened to you! And the babe—”

Cregan suddenly paused as you began to cry harder, his eyes wide as you cradled your empty womb. Something in his head seemed to click, an awful thought he’d never even considered before rendering him weak.

“Gods. Has something happened to the babe? Is that why you disappeared?” Cregan panicked, and you couldn’t stop the plethora of tears that slid down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” The dam broke, and you launched yourself into Cregan’s arms as his face turned to horror. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Cregan, I…there is no babe,” You explained to him, and you watched as his expression hardened.

“My love, what are you talking about? What has happened to our child?” He demanded to know. You held your head shamefully.

“The sheets, Cregan,” You told him softly.

He paused. “What?”

“I bled.” The confession left a bitter taste in your mouth, Cregan reeling back in shock. “My moon blood…it came this morning while you were out. I took the sheets…so you wouldn’t know and I…I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I just…I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” You whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away, afraid to see his face. Afraid to see the disappointment and the anger that was sure to come. Afraid to see the same accusing stare that Arra wore.

You averted your eyes, because you didn’t think you could bare watching the moment your husband realized that you were a failure. That it was you all along and not him that couldn’t conceive a child. It was your womb, your body that was preventing his happiness.

You didn’t think you could watch the moment all of it faded away.

“Y/N…”

You flinched as Cregan’s hand gently grabbed your face, making you look at him no matter how hard you tried not to. His rough, calloused fingers stroked your cheek, and he looked awfully gentle for a man that should’ve been angry beyond belief.

“My love, look at me. Look at me, please.”

You blinked, and all of sudden you were gazing into his eyes, one blue and one brown. Both of them looked soft and warm, Cregan sighing as he shook his head.

“You will never be a disappointment,” He said firmly. “Not to me. And I don’t want you to ever think such a thing. You are a good wife—”

“Who has failed you time and time again, Cregan,” You sniffled, “It has been six months, and I have yet to fall pregnant. You already have a son, so we both know it is me. I…I’m the one that keeps disappointing us. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I just…I just want to give you a child already. I want to be just as good as Arra was.”

Cregan had been stabbed before, cut from navel to collar and yet nothing in the world was as painful as watching you break down in his arms, desperate for the child you did not have.

It made him feel helpless to see you cry, and he hated that feeling. Hated that there was nothing he could do except for hold you, and offer you sweet words in hopes that it would soothe the ache.

“And you will. One day, you shall bare me another child, but if the Gods have decided that it won’t be today then so be it. We’ll try again and again until the time is right, and if that time never comes then I’ll still be with you every step of the way,” Cregan whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours and stared into your watery eyes. In the dying light of the torch, he could see the way they danced with a thousand emotions, each one more devastating to see than the last.

“You will be a mother one day my love, but please, do not compare yourself to her,” He continued. “Arra bore me a son, yes, but she gave her life for it. I would rather give Winterfell to my uncle Bennard than to see you perish for a child as well. I cannot…I cannot bare losing you too. Do you understand?”

You could hear the pain in Cregan’s voice, the unspoken truth that he’d rather you never be a mother than to have you leave him as well. It made your heart ache at the thought of never having your own child to share, flesh and blood and bones made from your love.

It would haunt you to the end of your days, but dying and leaving your husband alone in this world would destroy you even more.

You nodded. “I understand,” You told Cregan softly.

The warm fire light died down as you held one another in that corridor.

Nevermind that half the castle was still looking for you; in that moment, you only wanted your husband, his presence the only thing that could soothe the aches.

As Cregan’s strong arms and soft words comforted you, your eyes turned to look at the portrait of Arra. You wondered, if in her final moments she felt the same comforts as you did—content knowing that no matter what happened, she’d have a husband who would be there for her until the very end.

You hoped that she had.

—

In the morning, Cregan declined seeing off his most loyal bannermen, keeping his promise of being by your side whilst you visited the Maester.

You were shaking, undeniably terrified for what he was going to say, but you kept your head high and held onto Cregan’s hand the entire time he examined you.

You told him of your bleeding last morning, and how it had seemingly stopped today. You confessed that you hadn’t been feeling the usual symptoms of morning sickness or fatigue, but your breasts were sore and your appetite seemed to have increased.

Your body was an endless maze of confusion and it put you through emotions you weren’t even capable of understanding. You didn’t see how the Maester could either, really, but you supposed that he was used to these kinds of things more than you were.

After you had answered all of his questions, you braced yourself, squeezing Cregan’s hand as you prepared for the Maester to tell you what he thought.

And to your utter surprise, he merely smiled.

“Bleeding from the womb for a day or two is rare after conception, but possible. The fact that it’s gone away is a good sign, My Lady,” He reassured you.

You felt Cregan gripping your hand tighter as a flurry of emotions filled your body. First, you were shocked. Then you were relieved. And slowly, the grief that had been eating away at your heart faded, and you felt the tiniest bit of something else bleed through.

Hope.

“You mean…?”

You didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of maybe being wrong, but the Maester seemed to catch on and nodded his head.

“Yes. Gods willing, there should be a new child of Winterfell in about seven months,” He confirmed. And then he added, “Congratulations, My Lady. My Lord.”

He bowed to you and Cregan before leaving the room, also sensing that the two of you might like some privacy.

And he was right.

As soon as the door shut, Cregan pulled you into his arms and let out a shaky breath. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that your husband was smiling, and when you hugged him against you—hard—you could feel warm tears wetting your neck.

“D’you hear that? We’re having a baby,” You laughed in disbelief while Cregan chuckled, sniffling as he kissed alongside your jaw.

“I never doubted that we would,” He said honestly, and all you could do was hold him tighter, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.

“No. No you didn’t.”