#when your wife falls out of love with you but your son has grown into an irresistibly fine young man

[swordgrace]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: After your husband returns from Rook’s Rest, mostly unscathed, you are quick to indulge him to make up for lost time.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 5.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), first time writing for gwayne, please be gentle, gwayne is very cunt-struck in this fic, sub-ish gwayne, armor removal descriptions, mild wound tending, making out, both of them are desperate, unprotected sex, p in v sex, bathtub sex, riding (fem on top), handjob, oral sex (fem!rec), hair pulling kink, choking, breast play, cockwarming at the end

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I absolutely adore Gwayne and I felt like this was a really good way to warm up and get used to writing for him! I’m really glad that I’m seeing more Gwayne requests, this was ridiculously fun to write! ❤️ Thank you all so much for your love & continued support, it means more to me than you realize!

At the precipice of the gates of the Red Keep, emerald banners flew, embellished with the golden sigil of a dragon — the King’s dragon, laying half-deceased in the Dragonpit and the King himself, ripped apart and scorched beyond recognition.

A horrible thing, to be sure — your sister-by-law had become miserable and despondent when the news of her son’s maiming reached her. Whatever comfort you attempted to offer had been dismissed, but it was commonplace, not that you minded. You understood her desire to be left alone.

It was a cloudy, dismal day, marked by the overcast of gray and gloom, a dour portrait that only seemed furthered by the King’s potential demise. Rook’s Rest was outwardly displayed as some great victory, a vanquishing of Queen Rhaenyra’s forces and her allies.

Yet, the countenance of your Knight Hightower told a different tale altogether.

Becoming betrothed and wed to Ser Gwayne Hightower had been the hallmark of your family’s importance, a union of prosperity to further your standing in the realm, but it meant more to you than that. Gwayne had grown on you with the passage of time, witty and sharp-tongued, a proficient fighter with a calm rationality.

As the gates swung open to welcome those survivors of Rook’s Rest home, you desperately searched for the velveteen tabard and copper mane, wringing your hands together beside the Queen Dowager.

His armor glistened beneath the sheen of clouds, dingy and speckled with cruor and mud, his visage stained in dried crimson and soot. He was so comely and debonair, yet he seemed rather sour when he dismounted from his gelding, swiftly tugging his helmet aside.

Your feet moved before you could summon any logical thought, rushing to him across the Keep’s courtyard and into his expectant embrace. Plate-clad arms held you close as he inhaled a gust of your scent, marigold and honey, just as saccharine as he remembered. “My love.” He sighed, loud enough for only you to hear.

Before you could cage him within your own embrace, he let out a strenuous grunt, attempting to be subtle with the painful noise. “Husband,” It delighted you to see his face again — it had been weeks. “Are you hurt?” You fussed, brows knitting together as you inspected him for any critical wounds.

Gwayne bore the scars of battle beneath, save for the cut upon his lip and bruising around his cheek. His body was undeniably sore, riddled in bruises from falling, muscles aching from wielding a blade and weeks on the road. “You needn’t worry yourself into a stupor, dearest. I will survive.” He sighed.

“You do understand that it will only prompt me to worry more, instead of less.” Begrudgingly, Gwayne decided to let you dote over him — he quite enjoyed the attention whenever you did. “Perhaps we shall draw you a bath, and a proper meal to accompany it.”

Relief settled within his features, knowing that he would be well cared-for. He counted on you to ensure that he was pampered after every conflict — it was a habit you had developed. Despite the dull throbbing that consumed his body, he offered his forearm to you, delighted to have you at his side again.

He was rather captivating in his armor, shimmering and broad, a true Knight of the realm. Despite the tarnish and wear of his plate, he still seemed flawless, as if he were incapable of possessing any imperfections.

The Red Keep loomed overhead as many soldiers fought to lick their wounds, much of it from the angry bite of dragonfire. Gwayne was fortunate to remain mostly unscathed, aside from his pride. He could not stomach another day with Criston Cole, whose overconfidence often felt like a burden.

The sight of men being obliterated into nothing more than ash and bone was a harrowing sight, one that he desperately attempted to purge from his memory. It was good to be here with you, holding you again, giving him a worthwhile distraction.

Gwayne sought the solace and sanctity of your shared chambers within the Keep, but he missed Oldtown above all. Your marital quarters there far outweighed those here in the capital in terms of lavishness and comfort, but whatever lodgings offered to him now, he wouldn’t refuse. A feathered bed and pillow seemed heavenly after weeks of sleeping on rock and coarse rags.

Pale cerulean hues appraised you with a subtle hunger, finding the supple curves of your physique through the sage silk of your gown. Once you were in private corridors, he made his desire known, manifesting it into reality. “I must say, you look rather fetching, my dear.” Gwayne hummed. “Did you know of my return?”

“Perhaps,” Countering his flirtation with a teasing smile of your own, you gently nudged past the set of heavy oaken doors, making your way into your chambers. The servants there acted at your beck and call as you had them prepare a bath. “Perhaps I simply prefer to wear lavish silks each day.”

With a bemused scoff, Gwayne ogled you through half-lidded eyes, and as soon as the doors slammed shut behind you, he coaxed you in for a kiss. His mouth tasted like the bitter sting of copper coupled with brimstone and woodland musk, but you didn’t care in the slightest.

He cared little for prying eyes, desiring to claim your mouth for himself — it had been far too long. Passion and want were interlaced into each stroke of his lips, and you matched his caliber of desire, palms seeking to perch themselves atop his chest.

Gwayne exhaled, savoring your saccharine taste, the insatiable warmth of your pliant mouth. “I missed your mouth, wife,” He groaned, pearlescent teeth greedily capturing your lower lip as he caged you in against him. His blood ran hot even still, the adrenaline of war still lingering, yet you spurred him on. “Perfect as ever.”

“Gwayne,” His eagerness surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome, not in the slightest. “What about the servants?” You mumbled, skin crawling with heat as he insistently tugged you closer, auburn brows furrowing together.

A twinge of desperation followed from your Knight-husband, watching as he palmed at the swell of your hips. “What of them?” He murmured, caring little for the wandering eyes of handmaidens. They were like a flock of hens, squabbling after any scrap of gossip. “Surely, you would not deny your husband a kiss.”

“I would, if my husband vexed me.” You were able to both get a rise out of Gwayne and charm him all in the same turn, turning your head at the last moment. His mouth fell against your cheek instead, much to his disgruntlement. You would make it up to him.

Once the servants finished pouring a bath for your husband and preparing a hearty meal that transcended field rations, Gwayne felt as if he could relax, the tension in his shoulders unfurling. He stepped toward the washroom, unceremoniously falling against one of the velvet-cushioned chairs.

The wooden frame groaned in protest, rickety and barely able to bear the weight of his armor. He tossed his head back, finally able to breathe and relax within the sanctuary of his own quarters. No muddied tent above his head or the swaying of trees, no rancorous men, and no Dornishmen to tell him what to do.

With a steady exhale, he began to unfasten the innumerable amount of buckles and straps upon his armor, beginning with his gauntlets and vambraces. His brow remained creased with concentration, strands of copper stresses glued to his temples, lip curled with inklings of mild irritation.

“Would you like help?” You inquired, knowing that Gwayne would be too stubborn to accept it, but you were pleasantly surprised when he became subservient. With an indignant huff, he sat back, sluggishly offering you his body with a low hum.

“If you feel that you must toil over my armor, I suppose you can lend your assistance,” Gwayne prattled on, though his breath hitched slightly when you neared him, standing in between his legs as you went about freeing him. Cerulean hues traced over your form, desperate to see your naked flesh. “Hm.”

His quick tongue and eloquent speech once irked you, but now, it was simply him. You rather enjoyed when he regaled you with his flowery words and streak of arrogance, a haughtiness that seemed to run predominantly within his family.

As you set yourself to the task of unburdening your husband from his armor, Gwayne busied himself with ogling your bosom, jaw tense and tight. A warm coil formed within his stomach, the onset of arousal as he carefully admired you, his enchanting paramour.

Unclasping his cloak, Gwayne shifted enough for you to remove it, neatly folding it into a rectangle as you draped it over the arm of the lounge. “I missed you,” You confessed, knowing that his ego would momentarily swell tenfold — it was simply in his nature. “These past few weeks were rather tense, wrought with strife.”

“Allow me to guess,” Gwayne guffawed, a smirk toying at either corner of his mouth. “Something to do with my nephews, or perhaps my sister.” Admittedly, you were lonely without him — the capital didn’t suit you, nor did any of its hostile inhabitants.

A soft huff of amusement escaped you, but you happened to shake your head, lifting a wet cloth to his lips as you dabbed at the dried blood. “One would think,” With an amiable smile, you rid your husband’s stunning visage of cruor. “I yearned to have my husband by my side, that is all.”

Gwayne’s gaze became soft in your presence, fluttering across your captivating features and gentle smile. Knowing that you missed him happened to evoke some semblance of delight, filling him with a familiar warmth that eased his aching bones.

“I am here now,” He assured, reaching for your hand as he cradled it within his own. Rough lips pressed themselves against your knuckles. “You shall have your husband for as long as you please.”

Stepping inward, your lips moved to bury themselves into his disheveled tresses, presenting him with a kiss. You always feared Gwayne riding off to fight in a war, coming to terms with the painful idea of never seeing him again. “As long as I please? That is forever, then. Cole cannot take you from me again.”

You were an excellent wife, perhaps the best — he had gotten incredibly lucky with you, a rare jewel, resplendent and glittering all for him, something to covet. He watched as you unfastened the leather straps with haste, placing each piece down atop the footlocker at your side.

Gwayne winced when you happened to tug just a touch too hard, body wracked with aches and pains, pale flesh flourishing with the wounds of war. “Gently, wife. I am still needed in one piece.” A low grunt tore past his lips, one that happened to come across as a suppression of mild agony.

Perplexed, you reached for the collar of his gorget, attempting to be as gentle as possible in its removal. It was difficult, given how much he wore — plate and chainmail weren’t exactly comfortable to wear. The relief he felt was visible, scrawled into his handsome features as he reclined into the cushions.

Broad-shouldered and corded with taut muscle, you often found Gwayne to be beautiful in some ways, painfully handsome to behold. When you’d gotten rid of his upper armor, you noticed the battlefield of flourishing bruises littered across his flesh.

The somber, softened stare you’d given him happened to temper his tongue, copper brows beginning to slack, visage contorting into more of a concerned expression. “They do not feel as horrid as they look,” He assured, smoothing his palm across the swell of your hip. “Such is the nature of battle.”

With a tender hand, you lightly traced your fingertips over each bruise, some angered and dark, others lighter in complexion. Gwayne shuddered at your delicate embrace, bluish hues glued to where your hand traveled — over his throat, toward his collarbone, and then cascading across his chest.

“Where does it hurt, my love?” The silky resonance of your voice stroked his mind in a perfect way, one that brought him to heel. Your doting attention happened to subdue him, cock stirring in the confines of his linen breeches.

He often pondered what went on in that beautiful head of yours, the way your mind operated. You were an intelligent woman, thoughtful and poised with a comely grace, becoming of a maiden. Gwayne swallowed the growing lump within his throat, feeling your palm smooth across the plate of his cuisse.

“Here,” He briefly motioned to the series of marks tangled along his collarbone — he was fortunate that it hadn’t been shattered. You stooped inward, mouth carefully hovering above the ugly bruises dotted along his collar, and kissed the injured flesh. “Hm — here.” Gwayne tapped his right pectoral.

You kissed where his hand gestured to, pliant lips akin to a gentle caress as you showered him in your sensual affections. Enraptured, Gwayne watched you, hunger swelling within him, a ravenous gnawing that he felt for you. It burned his loins, filling him with the ache of desire.

If it weren’t for his damned tasses and greaves, he would’ve had you slotted in his lap. Gwayne’s hands tightened around the back of the settee, digits curling into the wooden embellishments. “That’s all?” You murmured, gingerly caressing along his chest, watching as he immediately straightened.

Gwayne grit his teeth together, motioning toward his bruised bicep. “Here,” The soothing softness of your mouth soon followed, filling him with a warm rush of dull ecstasy. You kissed his bicep, peppering your lips upward until they landed atop his shoulder. “Here.” At last, he motioned to his mouth, marred by a cut.

“Here?” With a gentle hum, you smoothed the pad of your thumb against his lower lip, carefully avoiding the cut and any bruising. Gwayne kissed your fingertips, hand still poised against your hip, groping into your pliant curves and soft physique.

“Damnable vixen.” Gwayne muttered, though his cerulean hues oozed with warmth and ardor, a gallant love reserved only for you. It was a loving jab, and he immediately hauled you closer, bringing your mouth to his for a fiery kiss. The honey-sweet embrace of your lips were ambrosial, making his head spin around.

You reached for his auburn tresses, raking your fingers through his mane, kissing him hard and without an ounce of hesitation. His hands lowered themselves to your derrière, sinking into your supple flesh, treating you to the fervor of his hold. A low moan emerged from your throat when he nipped at your lower lip.

Gwayne relented, tongue seeking entrance into the warmth of your mouth, forcing you to part your lips. In a hurried clash, you kissed him again, open-mouthed and deliciously hot. Your stomach began to churn, arousal seeping from your core, slick between your thighs.

“Gwayne,” You whimpered, attempting to catch your breath as he parted from you, licking at his lower lip. “We needn’t carry on if you are hurt.” You insisted, but he scoffed at the notion, gazing at you with bewilderment and a clear dismissal of your concerns.

“Nonsense,” Gwayne countered, clearly feeling his blood sing with lust, bitten by desire. It was a fire that you had so diligently stoked, and now, it needed to be extinguished. “I would suffer through torture unimaginable if it meant I could have you properly.”

With a bemused huff, you pressed your lips against his bruised brow, watching as he stood up, chest bumping into you. The closeness only seemed to intensify, tension crackling between the both of you. “Are you still in-need of assistance?” You hummed, tone indicative of your lascivious wants.

Gwayne’s mouth twitched into the ghost of a smirk, catlike and salacious as he released an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose,” Truthfully, he basked in your affections, even if it was all playful, a steady buildup to more lewd proclivities. He allowed you to do it all as you unfastened his cuisses and tasses, placing them aside. “Perhaps I should take you along to the next conflict. I will have need of your skilled hands, sweet wife.”

Seeing your striking husband in nothing more than his linen smallclothes made you itch with ardor, desire beginning to fester within your heart. His necklace, adorned with his mother’s ring and yours, hung around his throat, relics resting against his sternum.

A battle was certainly no place for a lady, but you digressed, lowering one hand toward the slight bulge in the front of Gwayne’s trousers. “Is that so? I’ve become quite proficient, husband.” A silky purr escaped your lips as you kneaded one hand against his erection.

Seven Hells, you would be his undoing.

With a sharp exhale, Gwayne let out a husky groan near the shell of your ear, hands steadfast atop your hips as you caressed him over his clothes. “Quite proficient, indeed.” He uttered, teeth grazing along your neck as you let your hand slither beneath the coarse linen. The warmth of his cock met your palm, and he shivered.

A breathy sigh escaped you as you bared your neck to him, palm encircled around the base as you dragged your hand from bottom to tip. The pad of your thumb stroked along the head of his cock, causing him to jerk forward into your embrace.

He had sorely missed your touch, the smell of your skin, the plush feeling of your body beneath his capable hands. Gods, if you kept touching him like that, he felt as if he would explode — and so quickly, too. Gwayne refused to resign himself to such a thing.

“I would be delighted if you’d join me,” Gwayne murmured into your neck, lips suckling just beside your jugular. The mark he left flourished, soothed by the lap of his tongue. “Only after I’ve ravished your sweet cunt, of course.” Even crude words sounded so pretty upon his tongue, and you felt your skin crawl with warmth.

A sharp inhale escaped you, anticipation churning within the pit of your stomach as Gwayne found the laces of your gown. You nodded several times over, lips parted as you sought his mouth for a blazing kiss. With dextrous fingers, he tugged on the silken ties, loosening the garment with ease.

The fabric pooled around your feet in a heap, and you hastily kicked it aside, standing in nothing more than a sheer slip. It was nearly translucent, made of a shimmering gossamer that left little to the imagination. Transfixed, Gwayne allowed his hands to travel along your body, kneading and caressing wherever he pleased.

He coaxed you toward the settee he’d been situated in minutes prior, allowing you to sit as he stood above you, hand slipping against your thigh. “Gods, you are divine.” Gwayne sighed, roughened fingertips stroking at your silky skin, like warm velvet. “Lift your skirts for me, dearest.”

Kneeling as a sacrilegious individual would, as if begging for forgiveness within the boughs of a sept, Gwayne sought his peace between your thighs. He observed in quiet rapture as you brought your slip to your hips, revealing your body to him.

Broad shoulders bullied their way between your legs, hands more than happy to have their fill of your haunches. “Gwayne,” You whimpered, feeling him adjust your hips to a proper angle, cunny glistening with a thin sheen of your arousal. “Please, I need your mouth!” Hapless at the talons of your husband, you pleaded with him to taste you.

There was nothing he wanted more in this world than to oblige you, lips pressing all along your legs, mouth steadily finding the apex of your thighs. Gwayne took care in spreading you apart, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt, your taste ambrosial.

A stirring fire of lust roused him, cock twitching within his breeches as he delved deeper into your core. His mouth was a thing of beauty, tongue sluggishly tasting you from your clit to your entrance. Your chest heaved with wanton pants, hands gliding toward his tresses.

Tangled within his copper mane, you coaxed him closer, digits digging at the base of his skull. Gwayne released a groan into your core, hands clamping down on your thighs with an ironclad grasp. Your nectar fell heavy upon his tongue, the sweetest of honey.

Gwayne thoroughly reveled in the feeling of your hands within his hair, hips occasionally stuttering and bucking forward, desperately seeking his mouth. He was attentive, lapping at your cunt with a fervor, allowing his mouth to drift to your clit.

Silk bunched up around your belly, thighs quivering like leaves as you continued to move inward. Most of your writhing was done unconsciously, pleasure continuing to wrack your body whole. Arousal pooled between your legs, spilling onto your husband’s tongue — and he consumed every drop.

Gwayne found his place between your thighs, as any devoted husband would. Every sound that he evoked from you, every shudder of your body, the slick of your arousal, he knew that it all belonged to him. Your needy moans filled your chambers, reverberating off of the walls.

“Gods, Gwayne!” You huffed, countenance screwed into a look of complete and utter bliss, lips agape and eyes fluttered shut. Without shame, you rode your husband’s face as best as you could, wrestling with his auburn locks as your knees squeezed at his head.

Perfect — it couldn’t have gotten any better than this.

His calloused palms ran along your thighs before finding their purchase against the swell of your hips, drunk and delirious from your cunt alone. He was positively whipped, a notion that he rarely admitted aloud, let alone shared with himself. The way you took his mouth with glee filled him with pride.

Another deliberate barrage of licks assailed your clit, causing you to shiver and moan, the sounds tapering off into a series of breathy pants. “Sweetling,” Gwayne crooned, timbre shifting into a delicious husk as he called you by that affectionate nickname. “You are incomparable.” He mumbled, nose brushing along the hood of your clit.

A pang of delight rippled through you as you preened beneath his desire-ridden compliment. Gwayne had a way with words, especially if he found himself in the mood to regale you with lewd whispers. The moment wasn’t now, but you hoped that it would be, soon enough.

That familiar coil of tenuous heat festered within the pit of your stomach, signaling the encroachment of your release. Gwayne buried himself into your cunt, spreading you apart, tongue greedily lapping at your core. His cock was desperate to be inside of you, slick with precum, straining against his trousers.

You chased after your release with reckless abandon, a low wine tearing past your lips as you tugged on Gwayne’s tresses with a sense of urgency. His lips found themselves pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on that sensitive bud until you cried out.

It was an undeniable surge of utter bliss, an amalgamation of pleasure that made your thighs twitch and tremble. You threw your head back against the velveteen lounge, moaning your husband’s name as if it were the only word you knew.

Between the deliberate, timed strokes of his tongue and the stimulation of your clit, you could hold out no longer, digits curling inward, stomach sloshing with a molten warmth. “I— Gwayne!” You mewled, the sound deliciously innocuous as you approached your release.

It slammed into you with the force of a tidal wave, sending spasmodic shivers all along your body, making your skin undeniably hot. Gwayne groaned into your cunt, finding great pleasure in cleaning you up, reveling at the taste of your nectar, like a fine stout.

His cock throbbed with a pleading ache, wanting nothing more than to be inside of you. He was patient, but he could wait no longer, face appearing from between your thighs as he huffed. “I cannot continue to wait,” Gwayne murmured, voice laced with desperation. “I must have you, sweet wife.”

Still trapped within the white-hot throes of your release, you nodded, wanting more from him just as he did you. “I am yours completely.” You breathed, watching as he made for the bathtub. The water inside had gone from steaming to warm, not that he cared.

It was like a race, an eager clamoring to see who could get themselves into the basin first. Gwayne hastily unlaced his breeches, leaving them behind along the stone floor before he sank into the water, muscles unfurling almost instantaneously.

You stood, legs quivering from the might of your peak as you attempted to rid yourself of the silken slip, but Gwayne didn’t have time to watch you fiddle with your gown. “In,” With a sharp timbre interwoven with lust, you seemed surprised, but obeyed his command. “Come here.” He hissed.

Without delay, you stepped into the bathtub, still clad in your silken slip, which Gwayne paid little mind to. Eager, strong hands gripped your hips, dragging you closer until you were in his lap. Auburn tresses were slick with water, visage upturned into a look of sheer delight.

The gossamer silk stuck to your body, hitched around your hips, the wet garment clinging to your flesh. Gwayne lowered you enough to let his cock nudge against your folds, burying his face into the hollow of your throat. He pressed strings of needy kisses there, feeling you grind yourself against him.

Tugging at the thin, lace-woven straps of your slip, you revealed your breasts to him, fabric sagging along your midsection. You listened to the audible hitch of Gwayne’s breath, continuing to slide his cock along the length of your slit. “Sit,” He commanded, hands firm atop the swell of your hips. As you lowered yourself onto his length, he shivered, jaw tensing. “That’s it.”

His cock filled you perfectly — nothing of indomitable size or girth, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him. You gasped, palms moving to perch themselves atop his freckled shoulders. Gwayne groaned, slumping back against the slick, metallic wall of the tub, keeping one hand steady against your hip.

What sweet torment, Gwayne thought, tantalized and entranced by the way you began to ride him, sluggishly through the constant sloshing of water. He assisted you somewhat, guiding you along, occasionally lifting his hips to buck into you, but the efforts primarily rested with you.

“Seven Hells,” Gwayne huffed, cerulean hues drinking in the sight of you, disheveled and damp, countenance contorted into a look of pure bliss. “I missed that cunt of yours, wife. There is nothing like it.” A low grunt tapered off into a breathy sigh as you came down harshly, nails digging into his pale flesh.

Instead of cajoling him with sultry praises of your own, you kept quiet, one hand slinking toward the base of his throat. The newfound sensation left Gwayne visibly perplexed, but he enjoyed your little domineering streak, mouth curling into the ghost of a smirk.

His palm moved to cup your breast, toying with your nipple, slick from water, beginning to pebble with the cooler air. “Gwayne,” You moaned, bouncing upon his cock with all of the eagerness of a brothel whore. Enraptured, he observed you through a greedy, half-lidded stare. “You feel incredible.”

Before his cockiness and ego could come swinging into the fray, you lightly squeezed at his throat, evoking a sonorous groan from him. It was effective at silencing him, but his gaze burned for you, burned with something incendiary as he gently tweaked your breast, kneading at the soft mound.

You were divine, a goddess incarnate, made for him to worship at your feet. He simply couldn’t get enough of you, savoring the way in which his cock continued to bury itself within your tight walls, over and over again. That tenuous coil of warmth tightened within his belly, a rush of heat soon to follow.

His hips jolted again, bucking up into you until he hit that perfect spot inside of you. You gasped, mouth agape as your nails dug angry-red crescents into his shoulder. Gwayne’s own sounds of pleasure caressed your ear, feeling him lean in enough to press a string of kisses all over your breasts.

The hold you had upon his throat began to slack, thighs burning with a dull ache as you rocked yourself upon his cock, continuing to ride him. His cock bottomed out before you lifted yourself up again, only to fall right back down, letting him bury himself until he could go no further.

He looked gorgeous, crown of copper tresses lolled back against the tub, visage one of pleasure, hands continuing to grope and caress along your body. It was only when his length began to pulse and throb within you that he grit his teeth, bracing himself for his release.

A low, subtle ‘fuck’ tore past his mouth, goosebumps coalescing along the length of your spine. You didn’t relent, continuing to rock yourself upon his cock until he was bursting at the seams. With a noisy groan, Gwayne’s hips stuttered, filling you with ropes of hot seed.

Even the ache of war and sex could not spend him entirely, and if it were up to him, he would’ve had you on your back the second you stepped out of the tub. With a sigh of relief, he stroked your hip, watching as you came down with him.

“I will never tire of that,” Gwayne confessed, hand repositioning to stroke at your brow, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Will you stay and help bathe your husband?” He inquired, tone jocular and somewhat playful, but he seemed serious.

“Perhaps,” You mused, reaching for a bar of herb-laden soap, attempting to move off of him. Gwayne tutted, clicking his tongue with mild disdain as he pulled you right back down onto his cock. “Gwayne.” Issuing a soft-spoken warning, you gasped, brows furrowing together.

With a debonair smirk, he pressed a kiss against the hollow of your throat, lounging back within the tub, either arm perched along the sides. “You can stay just like that, dearest. You are well within arm’s reach.” That lascivious purr of him stoked yet another fire, and you relented, staying slotted atop him.

“You’re insufferable.”

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not translate my work onto other platforms, copy, or steal my work and claim it as your own.

[peachessndreamss]

Comfort in You

Summery : After a long and boring council meeting, Cregan looks for comfort with his wife, and she finds comfort from him.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings : Lactation, drinking of breast milk, P in V sex

Word count : 2.3k

A/N : Well, here we are. All my Cregan pieces can be enjoyed alone but are all interconnected and feature the same Lady Stark their children.

peachessndreamss Masterlist l peachessndreamss ask box

Cregan Stark had developed a throbbing headache an hour into the meeting of the Winterfell council and had now sat with the pain for what felt like days as the sky outside the window had grown dark, and fat, wet flakes of snow had started to fall. The cup boy had filled and refilled Cregan’s cup with weak beer as he drank simply to have something to do with his hands.  

The sounds of the courtyard outside the window had changed from the clack and crash of combat training to the squealing laughter of play as the younger inhabitants of the castle had finished their days' lessons and had been sent out to run off their remaining energy. The smell of roasting meat was wafting around the keep and Cregan felt his stomach squeeze with hunger. 

The Master of Coin continued to speak on the taxes being imposed for goods travelling the Kings Road when Cregan decided he had finally had enough. Without comment he stood, looking similar to a moving fur covered mountain, took hold of his cup, raised it to the other men around the table in a silent toast before draining it in a single mouthful and putting it back down on the table with a heavy thud.

“We'll leave it there today,” he said before turning to the doors and striding from the room. 

He crashed through the heavy, double oak doors and into the main hall of Winterfell. Here the smell of food was even stronger and the room was full of people setting up for the evening meal, laying trenchers and wooden cups along the long tables running the length of the hall. Several large fires burned along the walls and in places where the light from the fire didn't reach there were torches burning merrily. 

The head table of the great hall was already laid with pewter plates and silver goblets. Beside his own great chair in the centre of the table his equally large wolfhound was sleeping, the great shaggy beast’s snoring could be heard over the sound of the crackling fires and laughing screams from the children playing in the courtyard. 

Crossing the hall, Cregan took the tightly spiralled staircase to the 1st floor, heading directly for Lady Stark’s chambers. 

He knocked once before pushing open the door, Lady Stark's chambers were always warmer than anywhere else in the Keep and Cregan immediately shrugged off his heavy fur lined robe and draped it over the back of a large chair. He moved through the main room towards the sleeping chambers, where his wife was sitting in the window seat, their 3 month old son cradled against her chest. 

She looked up as he walked into the room and her face broke into a glorious smile. 

“My lord,” she greeted softly.

“My love,” he replied as he sat heavily on the end of their bed and started to unlace his boots. 

“How was your council?” She asked. 

Cregan sighed deeply, his head dropping forward, his chin almost resting on his chest, he paused for a moment before turning to face her, looking at her from under his brows.

“Never has there been a council of men so dull,” he replies, the corners of his lips turning up. 

Lady Stark laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps they find their lord rather dull in return?” She countered, fighting a grin. 

“Do you find me dull, my love?” Cregan asked as he stood and moved towards his wife. 

He bent down and kissed her cheek before kissing the crown of his son's head. 

“Are you well?” He asked, touching the tip of his nose to hers. 

“We're well,” she replied, smiling down at the child, “this one's appetite takes after his father,” she added, lifting the child up and allowing Cregan to take the boy from her arms. 

Despite the jostling movement as he was passed from one parent to the other, the boy stayed fast asleep as Cregan cradled him against his chest. 

“Let's give your mother a rest shall we?” He crooned as he carried his son towards his crib placed at the end of their bed.

Once the child was placed safely in his crib, Cregan turned back to his wife as she stood slowly from her seat, the long, dark skirt of her velvet robe dropping to the floor with a swish.  She smiled at him before stepping towards him and falling into his arms. Cregan pulled her tightly to his body, his cheek resting on the top of her head as her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. 

“Come and lie down with me,” Cregan said softly as he turned the two of them toward the large, wooden framed bed that dominated the room, “we should rest,”. 

With his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders he encouraged her toward the bed, taking Lady Stark’s hand as she sat on the edge before slipping back and setting against the pillows before Cregan joined her. 

He slipped one arm behind her back and rested his head onto her chest. She winced in discomfort at the weight of him on her sensitive breasts but Cregan remained oblivious, he had closed his eyes and a small smile had turned up the corners of his lips as he felt all the tension in his head disappearing as he  tightened his arms around her waist. She ran her fingers up and down his back, her own eyes closing as the warmth of his body soothed her aches and pains. 

She was half asleep when Cregan shifted his head, the change in pressure and weight of his head sent a spike of pain through her breasts and she gave a sudden cry of pain and surprise. 

Cregan bolted upright, concern furrowed his features as he looked over her for sign of injury. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head as she placed her hand over her aching breast, trying to dull the pain, “I’m just full to bursting,”. 

Cregan’s brows furrowed as he glanced toward the plump baby sleeping at the foot of their bed. 

“He takes all he can,” Lady Stark said with a tired smile, “but I’m making enough to feed twins, or half the babes in the winters town,” she added, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. 

“Oh my poor love,” Cregan said softly, leaning toward her and taking her face in his hands, stroking his thumb over her cheek, “I did know you were suffering so,”. 

“I could take a job as a wet nurse,” she joked, as distressed by the worry on his face as the pain in her breasts. 

Cregan’s eyes travelled from her face down to her swollen breasts where his focus lingered and he felt his blood starting to heat. He glanced back up to her face, a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Would you let me help you?” he asked, his voice soft. 

“And how do you propose to help?” she replied, her mind racing with possibilities. 

Cregan smiled playfully before leaning forward and kissing his wife softly on the lips.

“With my mouth, of course,” he replied, his voice a warm whisper against her lips. 

Lady Stark pulled back from him just a little so she could look in his eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” she asked, already feeling her nipples prickling at the thought of his mouth on them. 

“I would do anything to end your suffering my love,” he said softly, “I’d burn myself alive to keep you warm,”. 

She pushed her fingers through his thick, dark hair and brushed it behind his ear, feeling the burn of tears in her eyes as a wave of emotion rolled over her. Love radiated from his body the same way heat did. 

“Please help me,” she whispered with a nod before moving her hands to the small, pearl buttons that held together her velvet robe. 

Underneath was a simple linen shift held together at the neck by bows of ivory colour ribbon, Lady Stark felt heat burning her neck when she noticed the two damp patches where her milk had already leaked. Cregan pulled at the first ribbon, undoing them one at a time until the garment fell open and fully exposed her swollen breasts. 

“Oh my love,” he whispered, “my poor love,”. 

Cregan lowered himself from a sitting position to resting on one elbow, bringing his face inline with her chest. He lent forward, finding his mouth was already watering and his cock was straining in his breeches. He swallowed hard as a small bead of milk appeared on her nipple as if it had been waiting for him. 

He turned his gaze up to her face, looking up at her through his dark lashes. 

“May I?” He beseeched softly. 

Lady Stark nodded, and watched open mouthed as his eyes dropped from her face back to her breasts before closing as he moved forward just enough to take her aching nipple into his mouth and giving it a gentle, experimental suck. 

The wet heat of his mouth acted like a balm on the sore skin of her nipples and she felt the thrill of arousal as he licked his tongue around while sucking. 

She gave a small cry of surprise as she felt the milk begin to flow, tension melting from her muscles as she relaxed back against the pillows, slipping one arm over Cregan’s back and pulling him closer. Cregan groaned with pleasure as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of sweet milk. 

Cregan broke away from her nipple with a soft, wet sound. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were glossy and dazed as he looked up at her. 

“You’re so sweet,” he whispered as he rearranged himself slightly and took her second nipple in his mouth and started to drink. 

The relief flooding through Lady Stark’s body was palpable, she no longer felt like her skin was stretched too tightly, the muscles of her back and neck had stopped aching and the constant pain at the base of her skull seemed to be lessening with every pull of Cregan’s soft lips. 

Lady Stark moved her hand up his back and pushed her fingers into his hair, letting her nails drag along his scalp, causing a shiver to run down Cregan’s spine and a quiet moan rumbled through his chest. 

She could feel the flow of milk slowing as Cregan gave a few final draws on her nipple, desperate to get as much as her body had to offer him. He twisted his tongue around her impossibly hard nipple once more before breaking contact, leaning back a little and looked up at his wife. 

“Better?” he asked, his head spinning and his voice husky with lust. 

“Much” she breathed, hardly able to form a sensible thought. 

Cregan’s free hand ghosted down his stomach and stopped over the now obvious bulge in the front of his trousers. He took a deep breath as he gripped his cock and squeezed, willing away his arousal. 

“Cregan?” Lady Stark said softly, “let me help you,”. 

“No, no, you don’t need to,” he replied, trying and failing to pull on his deep reserves of willpower and self control. 

“Make love to me, please Cregan,” she implored him, feeling her own arousal matched his but was just less obvious. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, sitting up to unlace the ties at the front of his breaches, “Are you ready?”. 

“I’m ready,” she replied, drawing the skirt of her shift up her legs and pulling it off over her head, leaving her naked and aching in a new way. 

Cregan couldn’t look away from her as he fought his way out off his breaches, kicking the off the edge of the bed with before moving with the ease and grace of a wolf hunting its prey he moved across the bed and covered her body with his, pressing her back into the mattress and the pillows with his weight. 

Her legs parted for him, lifting up around his hips, she felt the hot head of his cock rub through her wet core. He pressed his lips to hers as he shifted his hips forward, his tip pressing just inside her wet body. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breathing heavy. 

“Please Cregan, please,” she begged, slipping her hands around his waist and pulling him toward her, feeling him stretching and filling her after 3 months of absence. 

The familiarity of each other's bodies returned as they moved together, pushing and pressing, clawing and squeezing. They climaxed together, Cregan’s groan rolling up from his chest, sounding part agony and part pleasure. 

He dropped heavily beside his wife, breathing deeply and feeling completely spent. His limbs felt like they were made of lead and he wouldn’t have been able to lift them to save his own life. Lady Stark rolled into his arms, pressing her face against his chest, breathing in the hot and homey scent of his skin. 

The two of them were on the edge of falling asleep when there was a loud thumping on the doors to the chambers. 

“Cregan?” called the rough northern voice of Martyn, Winterfell’s steward and Cregan’s oldest friend, “Cregan, they’re waiting to serve supper,”. 

Cregan gave a soft chuckle, kissing Lady Stark on the top of her head as he slipped out from under her. 

“Shall I tell him I’ve already eaten?” Cregan asked as he grabbed his trousers from the floor and dragged them on. 

Lady Stark laughed before dragging one of the furs over her body to cover herself. Cregan stood, glancing down at her watching him. 

“I’ll bring you a plate,” he said as he walked out of the bedroom and into the main chambers, picking up his boots as he left. 

“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied with a smile 

“You’re welcome, my love,”. He replied with a wink over his shoulder as he headed toward the doors and back into the world outside their chambers.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, house divided

dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

masterlist

-

finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth. 

“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.

lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.

“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.

“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.

“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.

“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.

“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.

“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.

“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.

“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.

“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.

“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.

“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.

“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. 

race day   -

as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.

“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.

“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.

“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”

“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.

“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.

“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.

“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.

“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.

“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

gojo x wife! y/n where megumi slips up and calls y/n mom since she helped raise him and gojo starts thinking about how they would be as parents?

Got ya! Love this request, hope you enjoy <3

Megumi accidentally calling Satoru's wife "mum"

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: basically the request above lol

Warnings: this is pure fluff so enjoy, wrote this on my way to Disneyland so look over any spelling mistakes lol

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul

Megumi always admired your tenderness. Since the day he met you when he was just a kid, you have grown on him like no one else. It seemed like you genuinely cared about him and his sister throughout this entire time, standing up for him when needed while leaving him for rest when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Despite being the longtime girlfriend and now wife of a chaotic person like Gojo Satoru, you never lost your spark, your cool temper, your striking beauty. You are simply always the (y/n) he knows and secretly admires from head to toe. He never truly admitted it, but to him, you are like a mother, one of the most important people in his life, the pivotal point of his decisions.

It shouldn’t have been such a big surprise then when he accidentally called you mom in front of basically everyone.

A brief moment of thoughtlessness in the middle of pure chaos. He didn’t put much thought into his words until they eventually slipped off his tongue with no turning back.

“Can we talk about this later mom?”

Gojo stand right by your side, hand casually placed around your hip like usual when his eyes dart towards Megumi immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Did Megumi-chan just call you “mom”?

“What did you just say, Megumi-chan?”

Fuck fuck fuck. A wave of embarrassment rolls over Megumi immediately, gaze fixed to the ground. He just called you mom. Fuck, he just called you mom! Not only in front of Gojo, but Yuji, Nanami and Nobara. This is bad. Very very bad.

“Megumi…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes immediately.

While you were always keen to give Megumi the best life possible in this cruel world, you never imagined that he’d see you as someone this important in his life. You it’s not always easy, living with Satoru and you. After all, he is the most chaotic person you know while you are the complete opposite of him. It never seemed as if Megumi enjoyed your company this much. While staying with you more than with Satoru, nothing like that ever slipped off his tongue.

But right now, he called you mom. He really called you mom.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, turning away from your widen eyes.

Fuck, how embarrassing. You must think he’s a total freak for saying something like that. Especially given the fact that you and Satoru don’t have any kids yet. Was has gotten into him?

Nanami’s eyes are darted towards him in silence, Nobara and Yuji giggling to themselves while all Megumi is able to do is hiding his blushing face in his uniform. He needs to get away from here. Fast.

Faster than any of you are able to react, he storms out of the room, leaving especially Satoru and you in pure shock.

“I think he really called you mom, darling”, Satoru breathes out.

You wipe your eyes, tears threatening to fall down your eyes.

“I never thought he’d see me like this. It might seem a little stupid, but…Megumi is like a son to me. To know that he feels the same about me is just…so overwhelming…”

Satoru can’t help but admire you. That little blush that creeps up your face, how you smile into yourself like a little child. All these nights you spent by Megumi’s side, caring for him and his sister when sick, having serious conversations with him when he caused trouble.

It dawns to him. You’d be such a good mom. In fact, this is what you already are to Megumi. All this time, Satoru never thought about having his own kids. Still being young, putting you and potential kids in the risk of this cruel world. But seeing you like this, all flustered by Megumi’s innocent words, totally amazed by the word “mum”. Maybe, just maybe…The thought of a baby in your arms crosses his mind, how you hold its tiny hands while humming it to sleep.

“I will look after him”, you announce, fumbling with your hands nervously while everyone around you just stands there bamboozled.

“Hey”, you greet him gently, sitting down beside him on the bench that overlooks the whole area.

His head rests in his hands, gaze fixed on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to say that”, he begins rapidly.

You bring your legs up, hugging them tightly while smiling down at him.

“I don’t have a problem with that at all. It’s just that…I never thought you’d see me as something other than Satoru Gojo’s wife. But I don’t want to interpret too much into it. After all, it was just a slip of your tongue, right? Just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad or something. Don’t worry about it.”

With one gentle rub of his back you get back up, ready to leave when he suddenly grabs your hand.

“This wasn’t an accident. I never got to know my biological mum. And since the day I’ve met Satoru and you, you were always something like a mother to me. I really admire and appreciate you, (y/n).”

Oh. Your eyes begin to water all over again, you can’t help but swallow him with your arms.

“I feel the same, ‘Gumi”, you matter against the crook of his neck, careful not to touch his hair.

“Now now, what’s going on here? Are you stealing my girlfriend, Megumi-chan?” Satoru’s voice suddenly questions from behind, making Megumi jump out of your grasp in an instant.

“You know you have a real talent for ruining someone’s moment, right?”, you comment dryly.

“See you, Megumi.”

With Satoru’s hand holding onto yours tightly, you wander down the way to Jujutsu High. What a precious boy he is. You couldn’t be prouder of Megumi. And knowing that you had such an effect on him…You feel like crying all over again.

“I hope you told them not to make fun of Megumi for saying that”, you break the silence, earning a little chuckle from Satoru.

“Nanami did that for me, don’t worry. What did you talk about earlier?”

“Just wanted to make sure he isn’t embarrassed and that I know it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to put too much thought in. But it seems like he really sees me as something like a…mother figure, I guess.”

“Doesn’t surprise me the slightest.”

Huh? Your eyes dart towards him, feet stopping right in their tracks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, when he had to draw something, it was always the dogs, you and him. You holding his hand, you cooking, you kicking someone’s ass. Don’t you remember how everyone always thought you are his mother? All those years he looked up to you. It doesn’t surprise me that he sees you as his mum. But I should have seen it sooner, what a great mother you’d be.”

His explanation makes your heart skip a beat. Over the last years, you never lost a word over something like kids or being parents. After all, your situation was clear: you live in a world full of danger and death. No child should have to deal with this right from the start. But the way he looks at you with a warm smile, hand holding onto yours tightly. Does he mean…?

“I don’t know, Megumi’s words made me think about having our own kids.”

“Our own kids?”

You can’t believe your ears. Even though you never admitted it towards Satoru, the thought of having children definitely fills your heart with nothing but joy. And especially his kids…

“You already have been and would be such a great mother. What do you say, (y/n)? Mind if we try it?”

You aren’t able to answer. Instead, you let yourself fall into his already opened arms, giggling like an idiot. A child with Satoru Gojo, the love of your life. Yeah, this doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, this sounds like heaven itself.

“I take this as a yes.”

“I’d love that”, you breathe out, pressing your lips against his longingly.

“You’d be such a great dad. I just know it”, you huff against his mouth, heart jumping up and down in joy.

“Even though I told Nobara and Yuji to make at least a little fun of Megumi-chan?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

[babystarbun]

Older stepbro Jungkook that makes a move on you because he sees his little bro Heeseung eyeing you

warnings. stepcest, heeseung(enhypen) mentioned, under the table fondling, blood mentioned

————

Jungkook has to laugh.

His little brother can’t be serious. It’s only been a month since you moved in and he’s already making moves on you? He really learned from the best.

Rubbing over his lip piercing, he hides a smile behind his hands. His father’s been bugging him for weeks now to come over for dinner and formally meet his new wife. They only spoke shortly once before, small introductions after they eloped and honeymooned. Which obviously left his horn dog little brother with enough time to persuade you. How your mother has completely ignored the mischievous stares between you two and the way Heeseung’s arm has been stretched out under the table all of dinner has Jungkook gritting his teeth. Wondering if you’re equally as stupid as her. He purposely drops his fork to give himself an excuse to crouch down and peak under the table.

It’s a little dark and hard to see, but the shine from Heeseung’s bracelet hanging on his wrist is enough to confirm his suspicions. Nestled between your soft parted thighs is his little brother’s hand, jerking up and down with his fingers lodged deep inside of your cunt. Jungkook has to cough to hide his laugh, sitting back up and raising the fork up victoriously. He rubs his stomach and lets out a pleased sound. “I should have come over for dinner sooner. This mac n cheese, so thick and creamy.”

“Oh, your step-sister made that.” His father informs, motioning your direction across the dinner table.

Jungkook’s eyes light up, eyebrows raised as he finds your wide stare. Noting the sweat forming above your eyebrow and your overall flushed appearance. “No wonder.” Taking another bite, he slowly drags the fork between his lips. Letting out a soft moan and winking at you. “You’ll have to let me know the recipe. I love cooking.”

“Pft.” Heeseung grumbles. Followed by a wet sound of skin meeting skin and you jumping in your seat. Eyes fluttering shut as you try to control your breathing. “Shouldn’t you head home soon? Don’t want to hit traffic. I know that drive to the other side of town can be a lot.” He says snarkily, glaring at his sibling.

“Aww, has my little brother finally learned empathy? You never cared when dad forced me to drive you to that gaming center over an hour away.” Jungkook sneers right back at him. The two still for a moment to dissect each other.

Heeseung’s what? 23 years old now? Feels like just yesterday Jungkook was moving out at 21 to pursue boxing, despite his father’s resentment toward his decision. His little brother hadn’t even finished high school yet, still baby faced and lacking confidence.

Now look at him. He’s grown so much, pierced up both of his ears and eyebrow. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, next thing you know this little shits gonna book a tattoo appointment.

“Don’t be ridiculous son, your brother’s spending the night.” Their father interjects, firmly clasping Jungkook’s shoulder. “You know your old bedroom is the guest room now. Your mom spent all of yesterday cleaning and doing laundry to tidy it up for you.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches, tucking his lips in to stop the grimace that threatens to show. Sliding his father’s hand off, he nods. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to.” Mom. Sick. As if he’d ever call some woman he’s met less than a handful of times his mother.

Heeseung continues to whisper under his breath, folding his arms over his chest clearly annoyed. 

“Son,” motioning to Heeseung to sit up and stop slouching, he snaps his fingers. “I need your help to get Jungkook’s old tv out of the storage closet and take it upstairs.”

“What?! Why can’t he do that??” 

“He’s a guest, and you still live under my roof free of charge.” He says with another snap of his fingers. “Now get your ass up.”

Heeseung’s chair scrapes against the floor, pushing himself back with extra force to make his annoyance known. He shoots his older brother another dirty look and follows after their father to head outside. 

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll clean up everything.” Your sweet soft spoken voice tickles Jungkook's ear. Raising his pierced eyebrow to look at you, he grabs your wrist before you can pick up his plate. 

“Let me help you.”

“Oh,” you stutter, biting back a smile. “It’s okay really, I can handle a few dishes.”

“Sweetie, let your brother help.” Your mom says chipperly, sighing and smiling. “It’s so nice to have siblings finally, right? My poor babies been an only child for so long. Had to learn to be independent at such a young age.”

Firmly nodding your head at her, you stack together a few more plates and turn around heading to the kitchen. Jungkook follows after you, taking his sweet time with each step to really admire what his brother’s been playing with. 

Each stride fans your skirt away from the backs of your upper thigh, drawing his eyes lower, tracing down to your calves and ankles. They look great and would look even better wrapped around his head while you writhe and whimper. “So, how are you liking it here?” He decides to ease your anxiety. Scooting into place next to you by the sink. “Heard you had to make a bit of a move, switch schools.”

“Uhm, it’s..” keeping your chin tucked, you nod and begin to clean off the leftover food. “It’s been okay, Heeseung’s been really helping me to accommodate.” Without looking at him, you hold out a hand for the next plate.

“Oh, I’ll bet.” He quietly laughs, pressing his side against yours. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for him either.”

“Mm..” you hum. Keeping yourself distracted with the remaining dishes. 

“You’re so his type.” Jungkook whispers, leaning in closer to your ear. “I’m sure it’s driving him crazy to keep his hands off of you.”

The plate in your hold slips, startling both of you. Immediately apologizing, you attempt to move away and dry off. Stopped by a large tattooed hand gripping onto your arm, he tugs you back to his firm broad chest. Circling his free arm around your waist to lift your hands up. “You cut yourself.” He sighs, breath brushing against your ear. “Poor thing, you’re so jittery around me. Am I making you nervous?”

“N-no..”

After all, how could you be nervous? Not after so shamelessly getting fingered during dinner by your step-brother. “Good, because,” clutching your waist, he moves you around and lifts you up to sit onto the kitchen counter. Biceps flexing and hoisting you up with ease, not even making a sound of exertion. “I’m your big brother now, and I want to take care of you.” He smirks, flicking your chin. “Starting with this boo boo.” 

Calloused palms press against your knees, gently prying your thighs open to make space for himself. He slowly tickles over the tops of your legs to the hem of your skirt, leaving one hand on your hip as he grabs onto your wrist and lifts your cut finger to his mouth. “Looks painful.”

“N-nothing I can’t handle..”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker back to yours, tilting his head as he lifts your finger to his lips. “Is that a threat?”

“I—uh, what?”

Pressing your finger to his bottom lip, he drags the cut across his pink pout. Coating his mouth with metallic tasting red. “You might be able to handle my little brother,” sucking your digit between his lips, he laps at your wound. Dragging the pad of your finger against the middle of his tongue with his big doe eyes focused on your shocked gaze. “But that’s nothing.”

“H-how? How did you—“

“Doesn’t matter.” He shushes you, pressing your cleaned off finger to your mouth. Sliding his palm to cup your ass cheek, he drags you closer. Setting your inner thighs against his hips. “Think that you could handle more?”

————

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun

pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.5k

summary:

Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.

A Twister (1996) AU

author’s note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!

amazing title art by @atinylittlepain

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of reader’s parent’s deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.

masterlists: all characters | joel miller

support for palestine

The first person to notice Joel’s truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. “Had no idea you were comin’ out here.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. “But I can’t get her to sign ‘em unless I track her down myself.”

The expression on Tommy’s face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. “She’s around here somewhere.”

“Probably hiding from you,” another voice chimes. Tommy’s wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. “Welcome back, Joel.”

“I ain’t back,” he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. “How’re you, Maria?”

“Sweaty,” she replies. “Heard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.”

Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.

“The prodigal son returns!” Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time he’s seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same. 

He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike. 

“Joel,” you say, a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wasn’t expecting you out here.”

“You won’t answer any of my calls,” he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. “Have you looked at the papers?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t signed them?”

“Been a bit busy,” you say, gesturing to the camp. “I got something you’ll want to see.”

You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.

“She’s here, Joel,” you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. “ELLIE.”

“No shit?” Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. “I’ll be damned. You really did it.”

“We did it,” you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that he’s grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.

“We’ve got action!” Tess yells. 

The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isn’t fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.

He’s so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still haven’t signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.

“You comin’ with, brother?” Tommy’s voice crackles over his truck radio. 

“She didn’t sign!” Joel says back. 

“Keep lying to yourself, Joel!” Maria calls back. 

It’s a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.

“Son of a bitch,” he snaps. He grabs the radio. “We got company!”

The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joel’s in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRA’s corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said. 

“What’s Marlene doin’ here?” Joel asks. 

“Bet she’s wondering the same thing about you!” You chime in.

The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.

“Fuck!” He shouts. His tire has gone flat.

This is the last thing he needs.

You watch Joel through the window of the little diner you’ve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. He’s across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.

“Hey,” Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. “Weird. It feels weird.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s in a suit.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“He looks good.”

“Sure, if you like ‘em with a stick up their—“

“What’s channel four doing here?” You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, who’s gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your life’s work sitting in the bed of your truck. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you snap, racing for the door. 

“This is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. It’s built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,” Marlene says proudly. “Inside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.”

“Hey!” Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“Cut!” The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.

“You really think you can get away with rippin’ off our idea?” Joel snaps. 

“I only took your idea and made it a reality,” Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. “Face it, Joel. Your team doesn’t have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.” She laughs. “Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. ELLIE isn’t just a dream anymore. We’ve got her here.”

Marlene’s smile falters. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Joel says. “And she’s going to be the first in the air.”

“We’ll see about that, Joel.” She steps back, addressing her crew. “Pack it up. Let’s hit the road.”

You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When they’ve disappeared from sight, you give Joel’s shoulder a tentative pat. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you tell him. “Hopefully you’re right.”

The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. “But we got another development on the radar.”

“Alright, let’s get her,” you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. “You just gonna stand there, or are you coming?”

“You still haven’t signed the papers!” He shouts back.

“I can sign them in the truck!”

He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driver’s door. “I’m drivin’,” he says.

“No,” you argue. “This is my truck.”

“You think I forgot how to drive this thing?”

“I think you’re out of practice!”

“You’re wastin’ time, just get in the fuckin’ truck,” he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.

Some things never really change.

“You have to get ahead of it!” You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.

“I know!” He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. “I can’t fuckin’ see anythin’!”

“Just cut across the field!”

“I can get us further ahead on the road!”

“We’re going to get stuck alongside it!”

“Do you want to drive?!” 

“I’d love to!”

Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.

“What are you doing?!”

Marlene’s team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joel’s attention remains fixed on the tornado. “It’s goin’ to shift its path.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, squinting. 

“Look at it, it’s a sidewinder. It’s headin’ left,” he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road. 

“There it goes!” You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. “Alright, tell us what you’ve got, Maria.”

“F2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,” she says, voice crackling over the speaker. “You guys have a shot but you’re going to be cutting it real close.”

You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination he’s always admired, even loved, and he knows he can’t say no. Not to you.

“Let’s get it.”

“We’re running out of time,” you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. “We’re not going to make it.” 

“We will,” he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and you’re out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop. 

The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. You’re removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.

“We have to get it on the ground!” You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.

Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. “We have to get out of here!”

“But ELLIE—“

“Now!” He shouts. 

A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch. 

“Get up,” Joel urges, helping you to your feet. “We gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!”

Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joel’s jacket tightly. 

You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake. 

Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joel’s chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.

“You okay?” Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Hey! You’re alive!” You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. “Tommy owes me twenty bucks!”

“He should know better than to bet against me,” Joel says. His attention returns to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didn’t deploy.

“Fuck,” you curse. “All of that and it didn’t even open.”

“There’s always next time,” Tess assures you.

“You know…we could all use a shower….and a meal,” Tommy says. You shoot him a look.

“No.”

“Come on,” he needles. “You’re covered in mud. We’ll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.”

“I said no.”

“We haven’t had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,” Maria adds.

“You must really want a hot a meal if you’re willing to face Uncle Bill.”

“That a yes?” Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesn’t take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn that’s become more for show than for function in your Uncle Bill’s older age. 

When the van pulls up to the house, Bill’s husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.

The front door opens, Bill’s large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state you’re in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He won’t go so far as to say he’s hiding, but it’s a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.

“Joel,” he says, crossing his arms.

“Uncle Bill,” Joel replies.

“Just Bill is fine.”

Joel clears his throat, avoiding the man’s gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension. 

“I’m going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,” you tell Bill.

“Who said I was feeding you?” 

“Frank did.”

“Sorry, honey!” Frank yells from the kitchen. 

Joel escapes Bill’s attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted. 

“Didn’t expect to see you back,” Frank comments, tone light. 

“Didn’t expect to be back,” Joel replies. 

“What brings you here, then?”

“Got tired of waitin’ on her to sign the divorce papers.”

Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.

“It’s a real shame,” he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. “You two were really good together.”

Joel doesn’t reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you. 

It’s what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasn’t as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.

“Shower’s free,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud. 

“My turn,” Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesn’t say anything about his silence and swift exit.

Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.

He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.

He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.

There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.

You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. You’ve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.

“Hey,” he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.

“Hey.”

You shift your weight until you’re lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. You’re both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood. 

“When will it be enough?” Joel finally asks. You sigh.

“Not this again,” you complain. 

“What is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?”

“Retirement doesn’t scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but that’s not what I want. It’s never been what I want.” You take a deep breath. “So stop acting surprised that I won’t change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if that’s something that you can’t love about me—“

“It ain’t about not lovin’ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,” he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. “But I can’t ever be enough for you.”

Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m gettin’ older, I’m not as good at this gig as I used to be.”

“That’s why you left? Because you think you’re…what? Holding us back?”

“Wasn’t I?”

“No! You big fucking idiot,” you snap. “I can’t believe this.” You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasn’t faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. “You will always have a place with us. With me.”

Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.

You come to him easily, your lips finding his.

It feels like coming home.

Joel’s mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul. 

He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is. 

Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots — just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots he’s left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans. 

Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.

“Still so sensitive,” he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. “Quit it. Be a good girl or you won’t get your reward.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. 

“That’s it, knew you could be good for me.” He squeezes your breast in one large hand. “Just needed the right motivation.”

He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. “Somethin’ you want? Somethin’ you need?”

“You,” you mumble.

“Louder.”

“You, Joel.”

He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat. 

The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until you’re squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit. 

He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you don’t tip over before he’s ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.

“Joel,” you cry, his name a plea. “Are you going to let me come?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. “But not yet.”

“Fuck!” You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body.  His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. It’s too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.

He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.

“Missed this,” Joel murmurs, watching you intently. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until you’re cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. “Missed this, too.”

He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when he’s coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.

Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.

“Joel,” you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. “Joel.”

“I know,” he says. “God, I know.”

When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” Joel groans. “Can you come for me, baby? One more time?”

“Mhm,” you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like you’ve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.

Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, it’s with a smile on his face.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you agree. “See? You still got it, old man.”

“Nevermind, I still want a divorce.”

You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.

A sense of home.

The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joel’s lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. You’re smiling and he swears he’s never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.

When you break apart, you whisper that you’re going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you he’s going to clean up the mess to avoid Bill’s wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water that’s pooled in the hallway.

As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.

Joel smiles back.

For now, it’s their little secret.

The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but it’ll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldn’t deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members aren’t looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.

When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill that’s a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by. 

“Alright, let’s head out,” Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. “Radar’s got something forming about twenty miles north of here.”

“What kind of something?” You ask.

“A big something.”

Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink. 

“Let’s go get ELLIE into the air.”

The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. There’s a certain liminality when you’re driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you. 

“You okay?” Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. “Not gettin’ cold feet, are you?”

“About this?” You nod towards the sky. “Never.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Guys? You won’t believe this,” Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.

“What is it?” You ask.

“There’s two cells. Radar maxed out.” 

“They’re funneling back,” Tess adds. “This isn’t looking good.”

“You saying we can’t do it?” You ask.

The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, “If anyone can, it’s you two.”

“What are we up against?” Joel asks.

“Cell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,” Maria continues.

“Joel.” You tap his arm. “Look.”

A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. It’s only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in. 

“What’s the trajectory of this?” He asks.

“Northeast.”

It’s heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE — Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.

“Let’s get her down!” Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.

Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cyclone’s path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.

“This is it!” Tess shouts through the radio. 

You grab Joel’s hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.

“It’s too light,” you murmur. 

“No it’s not,” Joel says confidently. 

Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesn’t lift from the ground. You’re biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.

“We’ve got a shift!” Maria says. “We’ve got a shift, due north. Due north.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.

“Guess who just showed up?” Tommy adds.

Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone. 

“What channel are they using?” You ask. There’s a brief silence until Tess calls back, “Six. Why?”

You switch the channel. “Marlene, you have to anchor the unit.”

“I’m a little busy right now,” she calls back. “Trying to make history over here.”

“Listen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, it’s not going to get picked up. And if it doesn’t pick up, it doesn’t deploy.”

“Maybe that’s just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.”

“Goddamnit,” you snap, tossing the transmitter down. 

“Can’t fix stupid,” Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. “Let’s load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.”

Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest. 

“Do you see what I see?” You ask.

Joel watches the twister, then Marlene���s team. He grabs the radio. 

“Marlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, you’re in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.”

“Radar isn’t showing a shift. I’m not missing this chance,” Marlene replies.

“You gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. You’re goin’ to get yourself killed!”

“Clear this channel, Joel. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fuck!” Joel snaps. 

Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. 

“I know,” he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. “We did what we could.”

Joel switches the radio back to your team’s channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Maria’s voice snaps your name.

“Do you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.”

“Copy that,” you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. “What’s it looking like?”

“Too soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.”

Joel drives parallel to Maria’s path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. It’s one of the biggest you’ve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.

“Wind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. We’ve found ourselves an F5,,” Maria says. “She’s slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.”

Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it. 

“ELLIE needs an anchor,” you remind him.

“I know,” he says, looking over at you. “I’m giving her one.”

“We’re using the truck?”

“You got a better idea?”

“No, no, go ahead. Can’t wait to explain this one to insurance.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. “We’re sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.”

“Roger that,” Tess replies. “Ready for the feed.”

Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.

“One,” Joel shouts. “Two!”

“Three!” You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When you’ve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.

He’s kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts. 

The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Maria’s eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.

Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.

“I’m getting a read!” Maria shouts. “She’s up! ELLIE is flying!”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Joel, we did it.”

“You did it, baby,” he says. 

The twister doesn’t last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you don’t care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.

“You owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!” Tess shouts.

Joel pulls away with a laugh. “What did I tell you about bettin’ against me?”

“Does this mean you’re back?” Maria asks.

The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I’m back.”

[mapiforpresident]

Can you please do an Alexia x reader x child? Maybe its the child's first day of preschool or something? Thank you!!!

Off to Preschool

Alexia x reader x child

Summary: Its your sons first day of Preschool and your wife is not handling it very well.

~~~

You and Alexia had been married for six years now. You had met when you transferred to Barcelona, and she immediately fell in love with you. She had proposed to you on a vacation to Greece four years ago. You didn't think it was possible, especially when she is grumpy, but you continue to fall more in love with her with each passing day. Three years ago, you expanded your family when you welcomed your baby boy Leo. He is the best son you could ask for, and you love seeing Alexia be a mother. Leo is a mini Alexia in almost every way, and when you don't find it frustrating, it is incredibly adorable.

You had found out you were pregnant with your second child three months ago. Leo was very excited to be a big brother, and you and Ale were very excited to expand your family.

It was today, though, that Leo would officially start preschool. You wanted him fully in preschool when you get into your later months of pregnancy and when you first had the baby. Alexia agreed with the idea but was also a nervous wreck. Normally, you took Leo with you to practice, and one of you or a teammate would watch him, but with having another baby, you figured it was time to start him in a school with a regular environment. This would be Leo's first time not being with his parents, Alexia's mom and sister, or close friends. He had grown up constantly surrounded by friends and family, so Alexia was nervous for him to be away from them without anyone familiar for the first time.

You and Alexia had toured this preschool and decided it was the best one for your energetic son. It had a large outdoor playground and many hands-on learning activities. Leo was very excited after his visit and learning about all the things he was going to get to do.

You had to leave in an hour to drop him off. You decided today was going to be his first day because you and Alexia both had a rare day off in case anything came up, and you needed to go get him.

Leo was currently sitting on the couch eating a bowl of fruit and watching his favorite cartoon, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

You stood in Alexia's arms in the kitchen as she voiced all her concerns like the overprotective mom she is.

"What if he gets hurt, or sick, or needs another set of clothes? Oh god, what if another kid is mean to him? What if he has an accident? He has only been potty trained a couple of weeks. What if he can't nap, and it throws his schedule off? What if he..." Alexia looked very stressed as she ranted, her arms practically clinging to you. Your presence was the only thing keeping her from fully panicking at this point.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's ok, amor. Breathe for me, please." You told her as you tried to calm her down a little. You watched as she took a deep breath and then held her face in your hands, moving her so she was looking directly into your eyes.

"Everything will be ok, amor. Leo is a very smart kid; he knows how to advocate for himself, and if anything happens, they will call us immediately. It is only a ten-minute drive, and we can go pick him up." She nods, feeling a little more reassured, especially by how confident you sounded that he would be ok. Alexia looked over to her son and saw how excited he looked and remembered how for the past couple of days all he could talk about was how he wanted to go to preschool.

Feeling the gazes of his mamas, Leo turned around on the couch, kneeling and leaning over the back. "Mama, Leo go to school now," Leo asked in his adorable little voice.

"Soon, bebé. Why don't you run upstairs and get your Spiderman backpack so we can make sure you have everything you need," Ale replied as Leo jumped off the couch. He brought his now empty bowl and used the stool you had in the kitchen for him to put his bowl in the sink. You ruffled his hair as he raced passed the two of you upstairs after saying, "ok, I be wight back." You were still working on his pronunciation of the letter "r."

"See, amor, he is going to be just fine. Why don't we have a relaxing day while he is gone? We can go to that cafe that is a block over from the preschool that we have been wanting to try, and then we can go for a nice walk. There are a couple of stores I need to go to. Leo needs some new pants because he is getting so tall, and we still need to buy a double stroller for when the baby comes," you said to her as you pecked her lips.

"That sounds good, amor. We will be right by the preschool in case anything happens, and I can spend a whole day alone with my sexy baby mama. I don't think we have spent a whole day alone since before Leo was born." She leaned down to peck your lips again as you heard Leo race down the stairs with his backpack on.

"I want kiss too, mama."

"Of course, mi bebé," Alexia said to him as she picked him up and placed kisses all over his face. You loved watching them both as they giggled and Leo wriggled in his mother's grasp.

"Mommy, save me, mama attack me," He squealed out as you reached out and took him from Alexia's grasp, joining in the laughter.

"Do you want to wear your Batman or Superman shoes today?" You asked him as you set him down and checked that everything was in his backpack.

"Superman," He yelled as he raced off to put his Velcro shoes on.

"On the other feet, mi amor," Alexia called after him as she went to help him.

You grabbed his backpack off the counter and went to get him a sweatshirt, knowing it was a little chilly today, even though he most likely would refuse to put it on.

"Ready to go?" you asked him after you had put on your own shoes. He nodded his head enthusiastically as you opened the door heading towards the car.

Alexia lifted him into his car seat. "Leo try, mama." Leo told her, attempting to buckle himself in. Ale chuckled as he somehow got it twisted around his arm, helping him start over before he finally buckled himself with a triumphant grin as he said, "Leo big boy."

"You are, baby," You replied from the front seat.

~~~

About an hour later, you and Ale were sat in the cafe you had talked about earlier, you thoroughly enjoying your kid-free meal and coffee, relishing in the calm atmosphere and having one-on-one time with your wife. Ale, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck, biting her nails and checking her phone every two seconds to make sure she somehow didn't miss a call from the preschool.

"Amor... amor..... amorrrrrrrrrr," you said to her. She finally glanced up at you, seeing the small smile on your face.

"What?" she asked as she asked confused why you were smiling and staring at her.

"He is ok, mi vida. He is probably having the time of his life doing a science experiment or kicking a football on the playground."

"I know, I know, I just can't help but worry. He is my baby boy, and I can't stand the thought of something happening to him."

"How about after we pick him up, we take him for ice cream at the park? We can even invite Mapi and Ingrid. I haven't seen baby Hugo in a few days. Maybe he'll take his first steps today; Ingrid said he was really close."

"That's a good idea, amor. I will text Mapi right now. Leo will like that too; they have the chocolate ice cream that he likes."

The two of you finished your coffees and pastries, enjoying your time together and laughing at memories you have shared like your first date and your very awkward first kiss.

You were incredibly grateful for the love you and Alexia shared and how much you balanced each other out. You both couldn't believe how amazing your little family is. You loved Leo so much and were excited to see him become a big brother.

[jacaerysgf]

Discovering yourself

Request: Hiiiii. Would you please write something with Aegon x f!reader? I would love to see something where the characters are opposite. Would it be okay for the reader to be a bit shy and socially awkward and loves books and music but at the same time wants to experience a bit of life but doesn’t know how and is a bit afraid to get out of her comfort zone. Once she gets to know someone she talks and is super fun but it takes her a bit of time. And then there is of course Aegon who we know is quite the opposite. The reader fancies him and the two fall in love? Could that be possible? Thank you.

w.c: 3.4k

c.w: baratheon!reader, ooc aegon probably, hes a bit of an ass sometimes, fluff, insecure/shy reader, sfw! no smut since the request didnt state it, not proofread

Unlike the rest of your family you had been more than happy when your family received an invitation to stay at kings landing in the red keep for a helena's name day festivities as she had become close with your sister floris. You had not been able to come with the rest of the family last time as you had been in bed rest. 

You couldn't even imagine how big the red keep had been and while on the way there you could barely sit still your sister hitting you on the shoulder more than once to stop you from moving around.

“Welcome back to the keep.” Alicent greeted the rest of your family before he eyes locked onto yours, “I don't believe I recognized you.”

You open your mouth to say something but there's a pause and nothing manages to come out so you put your head down as your father speaks, “my daughter, lady y/n, she was bedridden the last time we came to visit.”

Alicent lets out an acknowledged hum and you keep your head down fiddling with the fabric on your dress. You're sure your father will scold you later. 

“a pleasure, this is my son aemond and his lady wife heleana, aegon could not be here..”

you can hear the annoyance in her tone but choose to not acknowledge it and greet the other two siblings.

more formalities are exchanged between the two families, “it is so wonderful for house baratheon to join us for heleanas nameday festivities, she has grown quite fond of your family-” 

the doors of the room you were all in burst open, all head whip back to look in shock, “prince aegon!”

“I am here.”

“You are late.” you hear his mother hiss quietly to him as he stands in place next to his siblings.”

“apologies, my son prince aegon.” 

alicent introduces her son. You had heard the stories of Targaryen beauty and thought the two Targaryen siblings were gorgeous but Aegon, despite the fact he looked tired and a little sloppy, was a different level of beauty. He hadn't even needed to try and he wowed you. 

as if he could feel your stare he locks eyes with you and you shyly put your head down towards the floor oblivious to the smirk that's grown on his face.

Some more pleasantries were exchanged but you didn't bother to lift your head still feeling his stare. You wish you weren't so awkward, if you had been anything like your sisters who could keep their heads up high and smile while locking eyes while you could barely hold a sentence with these people.

You barely even notice you had all been dismissed until you felt yourself being dragged away by your sister floris. A part of you can't get the idea of Aegon out of your head, even  as you fall asleep that night you wonder if you'll get the opportunity to speak with him.

Today was meant to be the first of a three day long festival including a grand feast, a tourney and finally a ball all in honor of heleana.

The second you walk outside you are immediately hit with hundreds of people, it was definitely a celebration with music, people dancing, some watching the performers. It was magical, you had never seen such life brought to one place before. 

You and the rest of your family were sitting in one of the higher tables closer to the targaryens, you watch as floris eagerly runs up to greet heleana while you stand with your sisters who make many comments on the festivities.

“I can't believe he can put that whole sword down his throat.”

“It was just on fire too, how preposterous.” 

“Maybe he just has a lot of practice. Do you think he’s fond of men.”

Cassandra and Ellyn turn to you in horror while maris lets out your name in a chuckle while hitting your shoulder.

You shake your head with a grin but are horrified to hear the sound of laughter behind you and turn around.

“Prince aegon.” you're all clearly mortified as you all bow but he moves to stand next to you and stare at the man. 

“If he is not he should start to be there is so much potentially to be held.” 

“I am so sorry my prince i should not have-”

He waves you off with his hand and continues to look on in the crowd, “these events are such a bore they practically force you to make such a joke.”

“I did not mean to offend-”

“You talk like my brother.”

You have nothing else to say back instead just stand and watch the crowd disperse. It is only then you notice your sisters have all walked off elsewhere and you curse them in your head as the two of you stand in silence aside from the gulps Aegon takes from his chalice.

“What do you think about her?”

He points towards a contortionist not too far from where the two of you were standing. She had her leg way over her head.

“She is very pretty.”

“Oh come on, you must have some other comments to make.”

You tilt your head at her as she moves into a split and lays down flat on her stomach.

“Men must certainly fight for her attention, I am sure she is a rather capable woman.”

Your words are faster than a bird and quieter than a mouse but Aegon certainly hears them and bursts out into a roar of laughter causing those around you to turn and stare. Your face flushes and you stare at the ground as Aegon composes himself still chuckling. 

“You are a scandalous lady, y/n.”

You shake your head, “I do not know why I said such a thing.” 

“You said it because it is true, look,” he leans in closer to you, much too close, and subtly points, “look at lord simon staunton he looks like he wants to eat her alive.”

You gasp and bring a hand to your mouth as you take notice and look back at Aegon who has a smile on his face, “he is old enough to be her grandfather, no even her great grandfather! That is ridiculous.” 

Aegon shrugs, taking another sip of wine with a chuckle. “I rather think that's what he likes about it.”  

You can't help but laugh for the first time in this whole conversation keeping your head down. Once you finally lift your head and look at him he's already looking at you. You feel a rush of heat flood your face, he stares at you for a moment longer, his eyes drift down to your lips. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can you hear your fathers voice call out your name.

“I must go.” you quickly turn, feeling embarrassed about the sudden tension between the two of you and barely hear him as you rush away, “i shall see you lady y/n”

You can barely relax the rest of the day your conversion with Aegon playing in your mind over and over. It was the first time you had been sop open with somebody you barely knew. It was so refreshing to be able to joke and laugh with someone who was not your family.that night you toss and turn in bed with a big smile on your face. In turn you cannot sleep so you sit up and contemplate what to do. 

You would normally read a book but your father wouldn't allow you to take any on this trip saying there was no need for it but right now youre groaning and fall flat back on the bed. 

An idea suddenly hits you, you remember from the tour one of the guards had given you there was a library not too far from your room. It wouldn't be an issue to go and grab a book really quickly right. A grin finds itself on your face as you realize the red keep has many books you have never read or even heard of and before you know it you throw on an overcoat and begin to quickly make your way over to the library with a lantern in hand.

Nobody would mind if you just took one maybe two books to keep you sated for the rest of your stay here right? That's what you think as you manage to sneak in and out of the library with two books under your coat as you quickly try to make your way back to your room. You almost reach your door before a voice behind you rings out.

“Now what could you be doing, wondering about by yourself..”

You turn and gasp, “prince aegon.”

In your shock the books fall out of your hands, you quickly bend down to pick them up missing the ‘ah’ that had escaped his lips.

“So you read?”

“I am so sorry-”

“You did not answer my question.”

You stall for a moment, not daring to lift your head from the floor. “Yes.”

He hums, “you are quite like my brother. I see no fun in it.”

At a loss for words you keep quiet and take a step back closer to your door, turning around fully before you speak, “i shall bid you goodnight-”

“You will sit in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney.” your movements freeze and you're thankful you are not facing him as your face must be full of shock. 

You manage to compose yourself not turning around, “i thought my family would be sitting in one of the lower boxes-” 

“Not your family. You. you shall sit in the royal box. With me.” 

You feel a wild course of emotions run over your body. What does he mean, just you? Is he attempting to court you? He is trying to seduce you? Does he want something from you? Or maybe he is just trying to be kind? Maybe he takes pity on you after you had embarrassed yourself the last two days? 

You must be frozen for a while because he begins to laugh. You take a deep breath, “I must decline.” because you certainly cannot sit in the royal box with the prince. What would the people think? What would your father think? You cannot even imagine having to try and explain why you would be sitting with them tomorrow.

“This is not a request. You shall join me tomorrow. I am the prince. I say it is so.”

“But my family.” “They shall sit in the box in one of the many stands below.”

“I cannot just leave my family.”

He tsks and huffs, “then so be it your family shall join us too. I'm sure heleana would be happy to be seated with floris.” 

Did he want you to sit in the box so badly he was willing to just add your family at your request just like that? No, he wanted you to sit in the box. With him.

“alright, goodnight my prince.” 

You do not even wait for a response as you book it down the hallway and slam the door to your room shut. The books you had gotten drop to the floor as you cover your hands with your face. Out of breath like you had just ran a marathon you find yourself unable to stop smiling. 

When you and your family make your way outside you pretend to be shocked when your family is escorted to the royal box. You all greet the royal family who all stand to greet you. Aegon grabs your arm and ushers you to sit down next to him. You ignore the burning stares of your family as aegon quickly makes conversation with you. 

“Isn't the view so great from here aren't you happy I told you to sit here?” it's not a question more so a statement and all you can do is nod your head.  

“Oh come on you must have something to say to me.” he pouted at you and you swiftly turned away from him, “well you did not ask.” you mumble and he smiles, shaking his head and takes a drink of wine. “I certainly did not. You would have sat here one way or another.” 

You're thankful Aegon is sitting in the front row of the box while the rest of your family is all the way in the back so at least you won't have to deal with the questioning of your family.

“Did you prepare a favor lady , y/n?” you turn back to face queen who addressed you and nod, “yes my queen.” not mentioning it is the same favor you've had for awhile as no one had ever asked for your favor. You do not take notice to aegons clenched jaw at the question and narrow eyes at the question.

The journey begins and you've never seen a tourney as big as this one. But as it is it is pretty uneventful. You cannot hold your surprise when you see aemond being introduced. “He is competing?”

Aegon next to you hums as he continues to drink, “he does not like this stuff, calls it horse shit but heleana wanted to see him compete so he entered.” 

He of course comes up and asks heleana for her favor which she gladly gives him before he rides away.

“And his opponent, ser bronn beesbury!” The man rides in full confidence. When he takes off his helmet you can't help but admit he is a very handsome man, certainly not more handsome than Aegon but he was a very attractive man. He rides over near the royal box and Aegion sits up for the first time this whole tourney.

“Lady baratheon, you are the essence of beauty.” he holds up his hand towards the box and you're shocked in a haste you look over the edge and toss out your favor for him to catch. 

“You bless me this day my lady.” 

You sit back in your seat unable to say anything. You end up glancing at Aegon expecting him to make some comment about the man as he had been doing with all the other fighters that day. He was not even looking at you. An unreliable look on his face as he tapped his fingers on the table next to him. He started dead at aemond who stared back for a moment before nodding and slamming his helm down. 

The match began and you were wowed as aemond swiftly takes ser bronn down with an extra hard hit and ser bronn hits the floor and doesn't stand back up. You gasp as he's dragged off the scene and for the first time in the last couple minutes Aegon laughs turning to you. “What a fool thinking he can go against a targaryen.” 

A part of you feels like he's not just talking about aemond.  

you didn't speak to Aegon after the tourney as the men went out on a hunt and you're grateful especially since you're more than embarrassed after your thoughts during today's tourney. 

Though it is very tough to answer your family's questions when you don't even know yourself.

Finally it was heleanas name day and the day of the ball. You spent the morning with your family, the royal family nowhere in sight seemingly preparing for tonight's ball.

When you arrive back in your room that afternoon to prepare for the ball you and your maid are shocked to see a beautiful red and black gown laid out on the bed. “Did my father prepare this?”

The maid shook her head, she's been your maid for as long as you can remember so she freely speaks around you, “the baratheons may be wealthy little ones but your father could not afford a dress like this one.” 

The dress is gorgeous as you run your hands down it you can barely believe it.

“Well come on little one let's get you dressed.”

When your family comes knocking on your door their eyes all drop to your dress, “what is this look about?”

“Where did you get that dress?” 

“Oh I made it just today.”

“Shut your mouth and tell me.”

“I had no idea it was simply on my bed when I walked into my room.”

The discussion of your dress continued until you had been standing in front of the door waiting to be announced.

“Is it not obvious the prince has given her the dress?” You and Cassandra whip your heads to look at maris who shrugs. 

“Oh come on it's in the Targaryen house colors and obviously he seems obsessed with our dear sister.” 

“Be quiet you three” you would be surprised if your father could not hear the pounding of your heart as you consider maris’ idea.

Would the prince really leave you a dress like this? What could that possibly mean? Before you have any time to think, you and the rest of your family are being announced.

As you walk into the room you fail to ignore the stares of your fellow peers as they all seem to gawk at the dress you had been wearing. Keeping your head lowered slightly you eagerly rush to your seat. 

Soon after the main family is announced and everyone stands. When you see Aegon, a pit forms in your stomach. The suit he wears is basically identical to the dress you had on, your sister maris clearly also takes notice of this as she leans towards you, “told you so.” 

As the queen gives a speech and thanks everyone you attempt to hide yourself behind your father out of embarrassment but still manage to notice the smug look on aegons face as he looks over at you. 

Soon enough dinner is served and the music starts and you forget for a moment why you had been so embarrassed in the first place laughing with your family over good food and good music. After the food in front of you had been cleared you feel eyes staring into your back, refusing to turn around you attempt to continue the conversation you had been having with your sister maris who comments on the fact that one of the lords had stepped on ever girls foot whom he's danced with which causes you to laugh. 

A throat clears behind you and you freeze, maris smiles, “good evening my prince.” Everyone greets him as well and he gives a greeting back. You turn back to look at him and your eyes widen as he holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me.”

He says it in the same tone he had told you you were to sit in the royal box with him. It is not a question. “Aren't there any other ladies you would prefer to dance with?”

“No. Now come on.”

You glance over at your father who smiles and moves his head signaling for you to dance. 

You grab aegons hand and he is more than eager to let you onto the dance floor with him. “I heard you are fond of music.” 

“I am my prince,, where did you hear that?”

“One of your sisters had mentioned it. The plain looking one.”

You gasp, “how could you say such a thing?”

He chuckles his eyes never leaving yours, “I am simply stating the truth, I apologize.”

You huff and turn your face away from him, “if anything i am the plain one my prince.”

He huffs as he grabs your chin and turns your head to face him, “you are not. Now shut your mouth.”

A silence fills between the two of you as he continues to stare at you. “Why do you think that?” A pathetic laugh escapes you, “I am not the funniest, I am not the most pretty, not the most talented. I am the quiet sister who has no idea how to speak to people or has no confidence in anything. I shall remain alone forever as a spinster while my sisters all go off and get married.” 

The song ends and the two of you stand still while everyone claps. You do not look at him while he stares at you.  

“If you are so boring then why have you captured me so. If you are not unfunny then why do I find myself laughing more in your presence than I ever have. If you are so untalented then why are you the first lady I've enjoyed dancing with? If you shall remain alone forever then why do I wish to be by your side.” 

You don't even notice that all the eyes in the room are staring at the two of you, aegon is your whole world right now.

“Marry me. And I shall open up the world to you.”

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 3)

The house does not make a home, but a home can make a man.

The trash pile has grown again. It's spilling out of the bin.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The house is bigger than you remember it being from the game. For one, there's a sectioned off washroom hidden partially under the loft stairs and a full kitchen area in the left rear of the house. The ceiling is also ridiculously high for a one story (technically two) house, but you let that detail slide. It's to your- Link's, benefit, after all.

Another thing, upgrades are not offered automatically here. Though that should've been obvious in hindsight and you're a bit embarrassed to admit it'd slipped your mind. Most people would decorate and furnish their own homes with either their old furniture or newly bought.

That's what the many, many shops the game never had reason to show were for, after all.

Therein led to your current dilemma.

Practicality or comfort? The large thin rug with dark patterns, or a smaller plush one with elegant designs embroidered at the edges? Red covers? Blue, white, gray? All of them perhaps? Maybe just three?

Does Link prefer cast iron or the wok? Steel forks or maybe chop sticks? A full set of pots and pans, or just two or three good ones for repeated use? Which set of knives? The specialty set or a general use one?

Should the loft have a rug too? Should you get both? Should you get three? What about the washroom?

Towels? A vase...

Dumb idea. No vases.

Should there be two beds? When Link frees Zelda from the castle, surely the poor woman won't be made to live there in that festering monster's nest of a ruin. And having been trapped there for a century as the world outside moved forward (after having been royalty nonetheless), would she even know how to live on her own?

Would it be presumptuous of you to already set up for her arrival before Link even properly remembered who she was? You didn't want to make Link feel obligated to fufill your assumptions like that. He already had so much on his shoulders. He didn't need you to add more.

So, only one bed. Sheets?

"Jus' get them all, ya cluckin' mother cucco." Adino snapped waspishly, thin brows pulled down into a severe looking glare. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall closest to the 'Odds and Ends' shop's door, pointedly.

You barely spared him a glance, used to his attitude after having known him for nearly three years. And honestly, it was all for show anyway. Adino loved shopping with you, but the spiteful little shit would never admit it. Even under pain of death.

'Jus' making sure the walkin' rupee bag doesn't fall dead to an ill fated breeze.' He'd snark if ever questioned why he was following you around on his days off.

Lies, of course. The truth is he's lonely. So very lonely and too hurt yet to reach out to anyone else for companionship.

The man he'd called father for 14 years of his short life suddenly throws him out of the only home he'd known with barely the clothes on his back. All after finding out his recently departed wife had been having affairs. And the kicker, the bastard claims he supposedly doesn't even know if Adino's his or not (despite them having the exact same eyes and brows).

It'd been convenient though, you'd give him that. Just washed his hands of the situation entirely. Started fresh with a new wife and got rid of the unnaturally (Adino had parroted coldly, like a curse and a confession breathed in the same breath) effeminate son that may or may not be his.

No stings attached. Just living comfortably on his late wife's family property and shacking up with her younger sister.

And that abandoned son running, running, running across Hyrule. Until he dropped right outside of Hateno, quiet and hurting and nearly driven mad with hateful, writhing loathing.

You pull yourself from those thoughts. It's not your business. Adino may have shared that information with you during his mandatory background check, but that doesn't mean it's any of your business.

Even if the boy is living with you, and has been for the last three years.

(Even if you already ruined that man's fletching business. Even if you never told Adino why that man'd taken a very long walk off a very tall cliff.

Even if Adino knew and left flowers on your desk every year on that day ever since.)

"I'll take them all. As well as the rugs, towels and curtains, please. Oh. And that tapestry. Yes. The one with the apples."

Adino snorted, rolling his eyes, and you smiled. A merchant's got to advertise wherever possible, after all.

The older, greying woman behind the counter nodded, glancing over to two younger women (her granddaughters, twins and five years orphaned. turned 17 last Fall) waiting unobtrusively near the back of the shop. They didn't need any more instruction than that, swiftly gathering your choices and folding them into neatly wrapped bundles.

You swear this family had to have some sheikah blood in them somewhere. Even if they had pitch black hair and the darkest grey eyes you've ever seen. They were just too quiet and efficient to be normal Hyrulians. (And were little known for their discretion above all else.)

You tipped the women for thier help. They thanked you with a quiet tilt of their perfectly kept heads, before returning to their preferred corner in the far back.

You didn't bother to barter with this woman. You paid full price for everything, and then tipped her too.

Four gold rupees. And a note, which she took with a nod and a knowing glint in her eyes.

(Because they were known for their discretion, and you appreciated that more than anything.

You knew she understood the flowers you left on her desk every year on the same day.

And you knew she'd understand this too.)

You left, but not before catching one of the twins (the one with the blue head cloth and lip rouge) staring longingly after Adino's back as he marched from the store in a dramatic huff. Her sister hiding a probable grin behind her red painted hand.

'Interesting. But not my problem.'

---

Link looked up the curved path to Hateno's guarded gate as he sheathed his guardian sword, the black mist of two hopelessly mangled bodies blowing away in the strong mountainside winds. Further back still was the semi-conscious groan of a young woman surrounded by fallen mushrooms.

Link ignored her slowly rising form, having checked her vitals earlier before being ambushed by a pair of bokoblins. He knew she'd be fine, and honestly, if she was sneaking around monster infested forests for mushrooms (Link could still hear the snorting of the beasts further past the treeline) then she must be able to take a hit or two and come out okay.

She must have had the same thoughts because she merely dusted herself off, picked up her fallen produce and made for the trees once more. Barely sparing Link a backwards wave before disappearing into the thick underbrush.

Link blinked after her. And sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So. That happened.

Link let it roll off his back easily enough. He had more important issues to deal with. Such as was it appropriate for him to just show up at your (and now his) doorstep fresh from the road and smelling every bit of it.

He discreetly sniffed under his arm and grimaced.

Surely you'd understand. You and him were connected after all, and you knew his name and knew he'd be coming to Hateno. A little roadside reek shouldn't be a big surprise.

Yet. He couldn't shake the self-consciousness. The irrational fear that you'd look at him and expect more than what you got.

Like that old man who was actually a dead person. Like that Impa woman, and everyone in that little village she lived in.

For how quickly he'd steamrolled through the untamed wilds of Hyrule just to meet you, he was oddly reluctant to continue now that he was at your metaphoric (and soon literal) doorstep.

He glanced down at himself, taking himself in with a critical eye.

The Sheikah armor he wore (it had been under 10,000 rupees, he checked) was covered in dust, grim and the unflattering stains of sweat, dried bloody drool (from that unfortunate incident with the bokoblin horse), grass and meat grease. His hair was so filthy it was nearly brown despite that equally unfortunate incident with the octorok having put him in the water several times (strong inconsistent winds make aiming bows hard, he'd discovered).

Hopefully you wouldn't be disgusted. He hoped you understood that he wasn't- well-

He wasn't who he used to be. Apparently.

"Link." A flat voice called out, and Link nearly jumped to attention at the unexpected interruption. He nearly reached for his sword too, before he stopped himself.

When Link looked up and met dark gray eyes, his heart started to tightened.

'Is that you, AM?' His eyes asked earnestly, wide and round with quiet searching. For recognition. For understanding. For anything at all.

Instead he got a slow, dispassionate blink and confusion as the woman spoke into the silence between them. "AM instructed me to lead you home, Master Link."

Link pointed to himself. "Master?" He rasped out quietly, voice rough and unpleasant even to his own ears. Nothing to say for the pain it caused at the base of his throat.

Without missing a beat the young woman nodded once, the blue bandana holding her dark hair back catching slightly in the wind. Blue painted lips barely moving as she said. "Yes. I will explain more once we arrive at your home."

Link nodded, still uncertain but trusting enough of this strange woman who knew the name (Alis? Nickname? Title, perhaps?) of his sheikah slate partner.

Tomorrow, he would be given a small journal detailing many of the dangers and wonders of this beautiful, wild world he now lived in. And he wouldn't be so trusting anymore.

And he'd have bananas, apparently. So many bananas.

But that's for tomorrow. Today?

Today was the first time he walked across the old, but sturdy footbridge. The first time he glanced over at the shrine glowing faintly to his left, peeking from behind a small cluster of buildings.

It was the first day he stood on the threshold of his (and your) new home. The first time since awakening he felt the beginning of heartbreak as he realized you were not there to greet him. That you would not be living with him. Ever.

('For now,' He thought in quiet defiance.)

And the first time since he opened his eyes in that dark, eerily glowing shrine he felt loved. When his eyes adjusted to the darker light of the house and found a home waiting for him.

Not just an empty building with four walls and a bed, but a rug with pretty dark patterns under a heavy wooden table. A bowl of apples at its center, with thick candles at either side. An intricately sewn tablecloth just slightly hanging over the sides in delicate little weaves.

He felt loved when he walked around the front room, boot-heavy steps thumping softly on polished hardwood floors, slowly taking in the space (the blue woman waiting patiently at the door). The small wooden sculptures upon carefully arranged tables, cute and quirky banners and tapestries brightening up the dimly lit room (one was slightly lower than the rest, another was slightly off-center, and Link felt warm at the imperfections). Sunflowers, a bird, a rock formation, an apple tree, a cat with a bell.

A sword and shield rack. Two armor stands. A few weapon's plaque hanging above them.

The food in the kitchen pantry. Completely unnecessary, but for the way it made Link feel. The way it made his throat tighten and itch. The thought that this was put here because it was meant to be his home.

And so much more. So many things he couldn't even remember the uses for. So many bits and pieces that slot together into the jumbled mess that is a home. It was more than he had the heart to acknowledge without weeping.

Noticing his brewing turmoil, the blue woman spoke. "Perhaps a bath and bed before we speak of business. AM said you may be tired when you arrived."

Link nodded, unwilling to speak and risk his voice breaking entirely. Instead he allowed himself to be led to the washroom, holding back tears when he found bottles of sweet smelling soaps and hair cleansers on a small table beside a stool above a drain. A tub beside it all, shaped like a bowl but with a drain at the bottom and a water spout at the rim.

He looked to the blue woman, overwhelmed and dazed by the strength of his emotions.

Something in her softened at his lost expression. "Let me bath you, Master Link." She said, keeping her voice even, though her dark eyes were gentle. "Just until you learn how to do it yourself."

Link nodded. Quiet and trusting in his vulnerability.

She helped him undress. She made him sit on the stool as she gathered what she needed.

Her hands were so, so gentle as they brought a warm, wet towel over his dirtied, battered skin.

He nearly fell into a doze twice as she washed his hair three times until the suds came off white. He was only minimally aware of the strong (deceptively strong) hands that helped him into the tub. He nearly slumped into the side of the bowl, body completely lax within the warm, welcoming water.

He opened his eyes from one blink to the next and blankets (thick and soft, smelling of fresh soaps and linen) were being drawn over his shoulders. The pillow beneath him gave under the weight of his head, as did the mattress he laid upon.

Every part of him felt warm and soft and safe. He smelt like flowers and sweet nuts, his skin felt clean and supple under the tender caress of his nightclothes. The further dimming lights eased him further down into slumber.

"Rest well, Master Link. I will guard you as you sleep."

Link couldn't even bring himself to respond, lost as he was to the call to nothingness.

He was lost not long after.

"One day." The blue woman said softly, sitting beside the unconscious man with an amused smile. "I will teach you to identify sleeping oils before they reach you. But not tonight. For tonight you sleep. Tomorrow, you will learn to be wary."

She wiped her delicate finger tips across his relaxed forehead, a slight sheen left in their wake.

"Sweet dreams, Courageous One."

---

Link,

I apologize that I could not be there to greet you properly. However, after careful consideration I decided it would be safest for our paths to remain separate at this time.

Herein this text, you will find all relevant information I've amassed over the years regarding our world and the dangers within it. Including, but not limited to, the continued threat of the Yiga clan.

May you never have to make use of the less savory of this knowledge.

Yours truly,

AM

---

To the shadows I return.

[laswells-ashtray]

Not entirely sure if I sent an ask through a dream or if I actually asked you this but what do you think Adler as a father is actually like when his son isn't killing himself one way or another

(Your angst is keeping me alive dear, shame not him lmfao)

Young kids always have a favourite person and they're always damn obvious about it whether they intend to be or not. Mine was my grandfather; I adored him. Out of three grandkids, I was the only one to earn the nickname "wee shadow" because if he was there, I was following behind as fast as my little legs would take me. He loved it.

That's how baby Phil views Adler, and by god, is it Adler's biggest point of pride.

Everyone expects him to be a gruff, reluctant father when they find out that his wife's expecting. They're wrong.

He suffers from terminal "not putting the baby down" syndrome, and it lasts long into Phil's toddler years. He has arms for holding his son, and he's going to use them. He fucked up his neck countless nights after falling alseep on the couch with Phil curled up on his lap.

He loves walking around with Phil on his hip as the little boy babbles, but his favourite thing is when the little one's social battery runs out and he gets sleepy. He'll quieten down, tucking his head under Adler's chin and nuzzling his face into the man's shirt as he hides away from prying eyes.

The boy's drawing with his crayons? Adler's fucking up the state of his knees just to sit on the floor beside him because Phil likes the company but only when it's his dad.

God forbid that kiddo is sick because he'll do nothing but scream himself hoarse until he's red in the face because he wants his daddy, and there is no stopping Adler getting home to his little boy. He'll spend the next week with that kid glued to his side, and it'll take nothing short of a crowbar to separate them.

He has a Ninja Turtle figure in the cupholder of his car because it ensures that Phil always has something to play with during car rides when he isn't busy kicking off his shoes.

If ever there was anything he did right in his life, it was becoming a father to one Phillip Adler.

When Phillip Adler becomes Phillip Graves, an adult with his own life, they talk less. They can go months without communicating, or they'll take every day in a week, their relationship survives on either.

He wants to know about any new injuries because Phil might be grown now, but that's still his boy.

God forbid he get a few drinks in him, though, because then he's pulling Phil's old firetruck blanket out of storage,e and he will fall asleep with it held tightly in his hands.

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere!!Fairytale characters!!Dark Reverse harem xFemale reader

I recently edited this

Part 2 here

You always loved stories for as long as you could remember because every night until you turned 8 you had dreams about coming to visit these story book characters but strangely they were your age in these dreams and were incredibly possessive and kept going on about how you would have to get married to one of them when you grow up.

When you were 9 you stopped reading fairy tales and these dreams stopped too.

8 years later~

You where just minding your own business when your mother came in and told you that you had to donate some old toys to a charity shop, you lazily got up and went to your attic where you kept most of your childhood things. As you searched you picked up the story book that you haven't seen in 8 years, a wave of nostalgia came over yo as you flipped through the pages. Suddenly aa portal came from the book and sucked you in.

Story 1 Cinderellis

You found yourself in a castle when someone suddenly bumped into you. You were surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing gorgeous clothing and a crown probably the queen giving you her hand to help you up she apologized and then gasped taking a closer look at you.

Queen: y/n is that you?

Y/n: Um yes?

She beamed and hugged you.

Queen: y/n my dear its been so long you're all grown up and so beautiful!

y/n: Queen Charming?

Then it all came back to you .You where in the castle where you used to play with your old friends Ellis and Johnathan. The queens son Johnathan saw you as a little sister and the queen saw you as a daughter but Ellis was the son of a wealthy man who was very kind and had a close friendship with the royal family. You remember Jonathan was vey protective and teased you a lot while Ellis was very sweet and incredibly shy and was very clingy towards you but he had this dark side and hated competition.

Queen: Just call me Caroline dear.

She smiled warmly at you seeming euphoric to see you again.

Caroline: Come quickly we must tell Jonathan you returned he will be so happy to see you.

So she lead you to the vaguely familiar room belonging to Jonathan

When he turned around you could barely recognize him he really has grown up.

Johnathan: y/n?

You nodded and he then tackled you into a hug like when you were kids.

Johnathan: I knew you'd come back dummy!!!

y/n: You really haven't changed a bit huh Johnny.

After you three caught up you found out Ellis's dad had died after you left and he now lives with his stepmother and his two stepbrothers they stopped seeing him after they met his stepmother.

Caroline the told you that she was gonna plan a ball for your return and to find a wife for Johnathan she sent out invitations to everyone in the land including Ellis and his family.

Ellis's home

Ellis was doing his usual labor because his mother treated him like a slave ever since his father died. His step family now just calls his Cinderellis due to him always being covered in soot. Ellis barely got anything to eat and was always given ragged clothing to wear. His stepbrothers mad sure to make sure he feels and looks terrible because they are incredibly jealous of Ellis because of his looks and all the female attention he gets.

After all these years Ellis hadn't forgotten about you but how could he ever since he met you he had been madly in love with you so much so that he worships the ground you walk on and would do anything to get your attention and much much more to get you affection but after you left a piece of himself left too he was absolutely devastated but he never lost hope that someday you'll return.

When an invitations to the ball came Ellis didn't care but he jumped for joy when you saw that this was for your return finally, he'd see his beloved again.

He told his Stepmother, and she told her sons to try and get you to fall for one of them now Ellis didn't like this and poisoned his family that day, after all Ellis never liked competition.

After the murder he disposed of the bodies he then dressed in one of his fathers suites and daydreamed about how soft your lips where or how happy you'll be to see him he can already picture you running into his arms proclaiming your undying love for him and how you'd never leave him again you'll be his in a matter of time.

Back at the castle

You were getting ready for the ball when a blinding flash of purple light came, and you saw a woman with a wand and beautiful purple wings in front of you.

???: Oh hello dear.

y/n: um who are you ma'am?

???:I'm your fairy Godmother I'm here to help you get back home.

y/n: Why? everyone is so nice here.

She went silent for a moment looking at you sympathetically.

Godmother: Things aren't always as they seem my dear...you have to save Jonathan if you want to make it to the next story.

y/n: WHAT IS HE IN DANGER??!!!AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT STORY??!!

Godmother: Keep it down, yes he's in great danger and you have a few more stories to complete before you get to go home.

y/n: what do you mean?

Godmother: I mean in each of the stories you will live in you will have a task when you complete it you will be sent to the next story but if you fail a task you won't be able to leave when you were younger you made every one of the male leads fall for you and now their obsessions have grown in an unhealthy way so be careful I'll see you soon.

and then she left just like how she came with without warning and in a poof of purple light.

The ball had begun and you couldn't stop worrying about Caroline and Johnathan. You were shaken out of your train of thought when a young man asked to dance he seemed pretty exited even euphoric and...love sick?

Nonetheless you agreed and he swiftly took you to the the center of the ball room as you two danced you couldn't avoid his stare it was so intense but those gray blue eyes were just` too familiar then it clicked.

Y/n: Ellis...?

He smiles at you and nodded.

Ellis: Did you miss me little mouse?

you smiled back at him and hugged him and he was in pure bliss finally you're back in his arms oh how he's dreamed of this day everything was perfect until he saw those pretty eyes of yours start to lose focus on him as you kept glancing at Jonathan this made his blood boil he was always second place to Jonathan when it came to you he always got your attention but now he's finally snapped he's had enough.

When you left to go check on Caroline he pulled out a vile of poison the very same he used to kill his step family.

Ellis: I didn't think I'd have to use it so soon.

He mumbled coldly.

He was about to pour it into Jonathan's glass when he heard your voice and he quickly his it into his pocket smiling at you, you asked to speak to him privately and he was taken back when he saw you crying and he immediately went forward to comfort you only to be pushed away.

Ellis: Little mouse what's wrong.

You stared up at him with a mix of hurt betrayal and confusion.

Y/n: I saw what you were about to do Ellis...I don't understand, Why would you try hurt him.

Ellis: why? because I love you y/n I love so much that it drives me insane I love you so much that I'd kill anyone in a heartbeat just for your attention I love you more than you will ever know little mouse~

All you could do was look up at him in fear as he caressed your cheek smiling at you with a sickly-sweet smile.

y/n: what happened to you? You were so sweet so kind and so selfless.

Ellis: Oh y/n you happened to me.

you saw a deranged glint in his eyes and his smile turned more sinister.

Ellis: You turned me into this.

At that moment you knew there was no reasoning with him so you had to be with him until you get sent to the next story.

y/n: Ellis I'll be yours if you promise not to hurt anyone else.

You could tell he was more than euphoric hearing those words come out of that pretty mouth of yours it sent him over the edge.

Ellis: I promise Little mouse.

For about 5 months things where perfect for Ellis waking up and knowing you are there being the only one able to kiss your soft lips it was pure bliss until there was a flash and you were gone.

You were falling out of the sky and splashed into the water you tried your hardest to swim but couldn't you were about to drown but you were rescued by a strange being and all you could remember was its voice.

Tell me if ya want me to continue and please give my other yandere stories some love.

God loves you get plenty of sleep and stay hydrated

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Dracula Headcanons (Netflix's Castlevania Animated Series)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I know I already did the Castlevania Game and the Dead By Daylight Game Dracula, but this one is the animated one. Dracula is different enough from the other games Draculas that I can do a post and video about it! So let's do this. please enjoy this chapter here!] 

(Disclaimer: Dracula From The Netflix Castlevania Animated Series is Not Yandere in canon! Although his character does have Borderline Yandere Traits. (But then again so do most vampires, they are possessive little poos) This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and Yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon, thank you!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Dracula From Netflix's Castlevania Animated Series-

.Dracula has some history with the Belmonts but mostly avoids them now. Living a life of isolation.

.Because of his intelligence, strength, powers, and skills. He finds humans to be inferior life forms.

.That was until he met Lisa, to him she was the only good that Humanity had ever done, and Humanity took her away.

.This made him a broken man, he believed he would live a very long and lonely life.

.It also made him have immense rage, where he wanted the entirety of humanity to be wiped out.

.So much so that he lashed out at his son when he told Dracula he would not let his father commit genocide.

.For a year he formed an army and gave humanity and chance, to the town who had burned his wife as a witch to repent and see the error of their ways.

.They did not and Dracula saw that humans were beyond fixing what they had done wrong.

.So he damned all of the humans to death. It has been a bit since then and he swore he will never love again.

.That was until he met you, a helpless human, he went to kill you, but you did not fight it, instead, you said you were sorry.

.You see you had been there at the burning of his wife, and you did not speak up out of fear of being seen as a witch yourself.

.Dracula falter for a moment because you were the first human to apologize for that, granted the ones who were there were all dead.

.But from this moment he could not bring himself to kill you, he also could not leave you for the horde to finish. .So He spared your life and made you his personal maid.

.You were grateful to be alive and you shared a bit of resentment toward humanity, such as because you were lesser birth you were treated like trash and possibly abused.

.You would sometimes talk to Dracula he did not fall in love with you right away.

.But he was fiercely protective of you and when one of his generals grabbed you roughly he severed their hand. Telling all his generals that no one was to lay a hand on you.

.This was the changing point for him because that made him want to keep you closer to his side and away from everyone and anyone else.

.He has grown attached to you and is unaware he has feelings for you right now.

.All he knows is that HE Spared your life and gave your life meaning and that you should be grateful, that you and only two other humans would be the only humans left in the entire world. 

.He would remind you that is because of him that you are still allowed to breathe, that if it is not for him you would be a corpse rotting away. 

.He makes sure that you know your place and that you accept it. 

.Even despite all of this he still treats you with respect and spends time with you. 

.After he lost his wife he thought he would be truly alone. 

.That was until now, here he spends almost all his spare time with you and if you are not cleaning up after him or fetching wine glasses of blood for him you are spending time with him. (Minute you preparing and washing his clothes and other stuff like that) 

.Dracula did not do this on purpose but he would be the type of yandere that would isolate you. Once again not intentionally. 

.He just does not trust anyone around you, not even Hector or Issac and maybe not even his son, if he was here. 

.He is a paranoid, afraid, and worried yandere. although he would never admit this to anyone not even you. 

.He does not want to lose you like he lost his wife, the fear of losing the only other person that he loved other than her. 

.It ate away at him and made him worried for you constantly. 

.He would sometimes get angry if you were away too long or if you conversed with anyone else but him. 

.He cannot lose you he would not be able to survive losing another love. 

.He still does love Lisa and even though he is yandere for you, you could never replace the love that he had for his late wife. 

.His love for you is different as it came from him being a broken man and you being different compared to other humans. 

.How you apologized to him for what was done and did what he told the night his wife was killed.  

.This made an attachment and obsession to you, seeing the good in you that his wife saw in humanity. 

.He would once again be fiercely protective of you and if anyone was to lay a hand against you he would slaughter them if human and if vampire, he would punish them and then give them the chance to learn.  .If the vampires did not learn they would be baked in the sun and made an example of. 

.He enjoys the simple things with you, such as reading to you as you were not able to read, which side note he does teach you how to read and write. 

.He is incredibly patient with educating you, and he wants you to have access to all the knowledge that he has. 

.He wanted a better life for you. 

.He is a very possessive and obsessive man as he is a vampire once again all vampires are like some level of possessive. 

.He does not like to share you, the only person he would share you with is his wife if she were still here. 

.He deals with rivals by making an example out of them, if a man was to seduce you, he would slit the men through strangle them with their own entrails, and hang them from a tree with those same entrails. 

.He is the only man that should be with you and he does not care if you are attracted to men or not you are his. 

.Now if he had a woman as a rival (Carmilla in the anime is at least bi because she said if all other men died and half the women (of the vampires) too. Then she might consider it. So yes, there are possible women to be rivals) then he would be a bit swifter with her, that is if she did not get close enough to you. If she even tried to kiss you she would be dealt with brutally same with men. 

.If they were human rivals he would torture them for weeks on in. Humans are beneath him and he was not going to let humanity steal anything else from him. 

.When he realizes he is in love with you he feels so much guilt for his wife, as he loves her as well but differently. 

.He wants to push you away to stop these feelings for you but he cannot. 

.He did try, sending you away for him for a whole month, and how he could not stand it. 

.How he would stalk you as you did chores and how he would have Hector and Issace keep an eye on you. 

.After that month he orders you back and this is where he confesses his feelings for you. 

.He would tell you he thought he could never love again but he loves you and you will be his. 

.He tells you that he cannot bear to have humanity steal you away like they did Lisa. 

.He does not even wait for you to accept his love, instead, he turns you right then and there. 

.He is a broken man who was afraid you would have been killed or God would take you from him.

.He still does not let you leave his side even as a vampire.  But you are made his queen and he expects everyone to show respect to you and not dare look at you wrong. 

.He would want you to only think of him because once again he is possessive and also afraid you lose you and wants no one to take you from him, you are his. 

.If by some small chance, he does not turn you he keeps you locked away with him so you will only know him. 

.In this route he would bed you and if you had the right genitally he would impregnate you. If you do not have the right parts he will find a baby and gift it to you. 

.Creating a family with you to try and mend what he had lost and start fresh with you. 

.You will still one day be turned into a vampire because he is not making the same mistake again, it is only a matter of when and how he does it. 

.He may be trying to make you love and accept him, as when he confessed to you he did not care what your answer would be because you were his and only his, forevermore. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter here, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[toomuchracket]

swimming lessons (dad!ross x reader smut)

part of summer75 and a day late because i'm a busy girl. but this is fun! breeding kink haters dni. the rest of you, enjoy <3

“not to be weird or anything, babe, but your husband is looking really, really sexy to me right now.”

you snort, turning to look at your friend on the sunlounger next to you. “yours is literally right behind you right now.”

“what? she's right,” matty pipes up, kissing his wife's head. he lifts up his sunglasses, looking back towards the pool with a low whistle. “he's fit.”

to be fair, neither of them are wrong - ross does look incredible, shirtless in the pool, beads of water dripping down his body. you follow one as it travels down his bicep, flexed from holding baby alex (who, at three, isn't really a baby anymore, but you’re convinced that's what he'll be known as forever, bless him), biting your lip when the droplet falls from ross's wrist onto his stomach and disappears when it reaches his shorts. your shorts, too, are beginning to collect wetness, the sight of your husband looking delectable and dilfy turning you on to an insane level; when he strokes your sleepy nephew's curls and beams at your daughter demonstrating a front crawl, you genuinely have to squeeze your legs together.

and when he walks up the steps from the pool towards you, toddler still in his arms… it takes everything in you to hold back a moan. somehow, you manage it, and even manage a smile at the way alex beams and makes grabby arms for your friend - she takes him into her own, cooing “you did so well, munchkin! was it fun, swimming with uncle ross? it was? oh, good!” at her baby and mouthing “thank you” at ross. he winks, ruffling alex's hair another time and doing the same to his dad's with a laugh, before wandering over to you and leaning down for a kiss. “alright, love?”

“mmm, yeah,” you steal another peck, savouring the familiar feel of his lips on yours before lying back (as seductively as you can manage). “sit with me for a bit?”

“absol-”

“dad, dad!” eilidh yells. you peer over to see your daughter giving lyla a piggyback in the water, keir faffing about with one of his cousin's armbands. “we need your help to fix this, please!”

“coming, bean,” ross calls out. he turns back to you with a sigh, leaning down for another kiss that doesn't last anywhere near as long as you'd like. “sorry, babe. back soon, though, yeah?”

you nod, smiling gently. “yeah.”

as your husband makes his way over to save the day, matty reaches out to pat you on the shoulder sympathetically. “cockblocked by your own kid. been there, mate.”

“matthew, you can't say that in front of our son!” his wife hisses, holding an almost-sleeping alex even closer to her as if she can wipe away the memory of the bad word through touch; she turns to you, too, small smile on her pretty face. “sorry, though, babe. i get it, i do.”

“it's that obvious i'm feeling,” you wave your hands as you search for the right word. “... amorous? christ.”

“well… yeah, but-”

“but it's valid,” matty chips in. “very.”

“yeah, it's valid,” your friend nods. “how long has it been?”

“must be, i don't know,” you trill your lips, wracking your brain to recall the date of you and ross's latest sexcapades and coming up short. “i can't even remember, actually,” you laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. “that's awful.”

matty scoffs. “for the two of you? it’s worrying,” he sighs, wistful. “you used to be ridiculous, always sneaking off to sh- cuddle, in the way grown-ups do. was mental.”

his wife leans round to look at him, brow furrowed. “worse than us?”

“darling, nobody's as bad as us,” he kisses her nose, then turns to you. “but yeah. i think you and ross should go on a date.”

images flood your mind, images of ross in a nice shirt and you in a dress, images of gorgeous plates of pasta and glasses of wine, images of the two of you dancing and kissing, images of him above you, chain dangling and face contorted in pleasure as… 

yeah, a date sounds like a good idea. 

but the kids…

“oh, we can look after them for a night! the kids would love a sleepover, i reckon,” your friend nods eagerly when you share your thoughts. “could even take them tonight, if you fancied.”

your heart soars. “really?”

“course,” matty nods. “we still owe you for the night the little nugget my girl's holding was invented, anyway.”

you laugh, reaching over to stroke said nugget’s soft cheek; he smiles in his sleep when you do, and it makes your heart melt. “love you guys, i really do.”

“and we love you,” your friend squeezes your hand, beaming. “and we hope you have a good night.”

as it turns out, you do. everything seems to fall perfectly into place in regard to it, actually - by some miracle, the fancy restaurant down the road has a table for two available tonight; you win the fight with the humidity and leave the hotel with nice hair; the kids are borderline-offensively excited about the sleepover with the healys, hugging you and ross goodbye at the speed of light before bolting into the other suite to watch tangled. 

dinner is perfect, too, but not nearly as much as the man sitting across from you. ross looks gorgeous in a soft linen shirt, even more so than usual; he blushes slightly when you tell him as much, shaking his head and returning the compliment and making your cocktail-buzzed head spin. he keeps the sweet talking going the whole night, from the restaurant to the wine bar and back to the hotel, flirting with you like he did over a decade ago and subsequently getting you as insatiable for him as you were back then.

luckily for you, though, ross is equally as insatiable, as evidenced by the way he crashes (a cliché, but there's no other word for it) his lips onto yours the second the lift to your hotel room floor dings shut. you sigh into his mouth at the feeling, a sigh that quickly becomes a moan when his tongue finds its way between your lips and his hands find their way to your arse. ross giggles at the sound, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on yours. “fuck, i missed you. missed this.”

“so did i,” you kiss him again, pulling away when the lift dings and wandering into the hallway. ross follows a few steps behind, and you know with every fibre of your being that he's staring at your hips in the satin dress; this is confirmed when you quickly spin to face him, those pretty eyes of his flicking up to yours as you hold out your hand. “coming?”

your husband doesn't answer. instead, he crosses the space between you in one stride, scooping you bridal-style into his arms so fast you can barely react and practically running down the hall to your room. as you fumble in your handbag for the keycard, his lips meet your neck, and you momentarily forget what it is you're doing - the feeling passes quickly, though, and within thirty seconds you're in the suite and being quite literally thrown onto the king-size bed.

ross climbs atop you, kissing you again, slowly, deeply, sexily, turning your brain to goo and your core slick; his hands gently cup your face, while yours fumble to find the buttons on his shirt and begin to undo them. he smiles into you, hands travelling to your shoulders to slip the straps of your dress down and free your tits. when he touches them, rolling your nipples between calloused fingers, you whine, and he laughs. “you like that, love?”

“you know i do,” smiling, you pull the hair tie from his bun, running your fingers through his hair and savouring the satisfied moan he lets out. “god, you're hot.”

“nah, you're the hot one,” ross runs his hands down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “i mean, look at this fucking dress on you.”

you preen, crossing your legs behind his back. “wanna fuck me in it?”

“obviously,” ross scoffs. “d'you want anything else first, though?”

“nah,” you pull him close to you, whispering directly in his ear. “we've got the whole night for you to do other things to me, baby.”

ross groans into your neck, hands frantically sliding under your dress to pull your underwear down; he winks as he pockets the garment, before unbuckling his belt. you sigh happily when he pulls his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and he smirks. “condom? or are you too desperate, love?”

“you're the one who got a boner from a snog,” you fire back, smirking to match ross; you lean up to kiss him, tugging him onto you by the chain around his neck. “and no condom. wanna feel it when you fill me up.”

“god,” ross's eyes darken, fluttering closed when he sinks into you with a groan. “like that, baby?”

“yeah,” you breathe, readjusting to the feeling of your husband inside you after all this time. “fuck, ross, m’so full.”

“well, you did eat all that pasta-”

“i swear to fucking god, ross, if you don't shut up i'll-”

he cuts you off with a sharp thrust and a saccharine smile. “you’ll what, love? go on, tell me.”

bastard. he knows fine well you can't, brain completely clearing as soon as he starts fucking you - you've been doing this for fifteen years, after all. right now, all you can do is allow yourself to get lost in the bliss of fucking your husband, inching ever closer to the inevitable rush of pleasure with every movement of ross's hips. when his hand joins the party, fingers as deliberate on your clit as they are on his bass strings, you whine, and he beams. “y'having fun?”

“mhmm,” you pout your lips for a kiss, and ross obliges immediately with some filthy sloppy thing that turns your brain inside out. all the while, neither his hand or hips let up, and you can feel the shockwaves beginning in your nervous system. “y'gonna make me cum.”

“s'my favourite thing,” ross smiles against your lips, moving to tenderly rest his forehead on yours. “well, you and the kids are my favourite thing, but… you know what i mean.”

you huff out a laugh. “maybe you'll get another one tonight.”

he rolls his eyes. “don't take the piss.”

“m'not!” you kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair. “i know you want one, ‘n’ so do i - please, ross?” you move your lips onto his neck, kissing the spot at his collarbone you know drives him insane. “let's make a baby.”

ross sighs. “well, you asked for it.”

before you can even respond, he's wrapping your legs even tighter around his waist, slamming into you with reckless abandon. the sound of your bodies meeting is nothing short of depraved, all skin slapping and wet cunt and little moans leaving your lips as your husband fucks you with complete and utter determination. those shockwaves from earlier are increasing tenfold with every thrust, rocking through you every time ross hits that sweet spot inside you; when he brings his lips to your ear, beard tickling the skin, they increase again, leading you right to the edge. “cum for me, love. need to fill you before i fill you up… oh, fuck, just like that, good girl.”

your orgasm is sudden, strong, violent - your limbs convulse, lips part, eyes roll back, and voice wails as you topple into ecstasy, ross following a beat behind. he holds himself against you as he cums with a groan, letting you feel every last drop coating your insides before face-planting into your tits with a weary sigh. breathless as you are too, you bring a shaky hand to your husband's hair, kissing his temple. “shit, i love you so much.”

“feeling's mutual,” ross responds, words muffled by your chest. he softly kisses your glowing skin, looking up at you with a smile - he looks utterly fucked, but he's so, so beautiful. “you reckon that worked, then?”

you shrug. “maybe. but we should try again, too, i think. just to be sure.”

ross laughs, snuggling back into you again. “well, give me five minutes first.”

[kurinhimenezu]

Waiting - Adam - HH

!!SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!

Author's note: Well as much spoilers as the Hazbin Leaks would give us, but just to be safe! I'm going to put the 'keep reading' before the spoilers.

This was inspired by the song Would You Fall In Love with Me Again? by Jorge Rivera-Herrans and Anna Lea Casey (The Ithaca Saga of Epic the Musical) and I started bawling listening to the whole saga.

I suggest listening to the song before or even during reading this cause it can give you the feeling you get when seeing your favourite show for the first time

SO! I hope ya'll cry too, I love the taste of angst 👌

CW: Angst with comfort, Major character death, hazbin hotel leaks

I am not the man you fell in love with I am not the man you once adored I am not your kind and gentle husband And I am not the love you knew before

Time moves differently in Heaven.

When Lute came to you in the middle of the night with a tourniquet and a missing arm, you knew that Hell won. She held you as you both cried on the ground over Adam’s halo, dull and missing its light.

You remember screaming into the ground as if hell’s princess has killed you herself. Your heart shattering at your husband’s demise.

It rained heavily for the first time in eons, as if the Father himself weeps for his first created son.

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo I am not the man you knew I know that you've been waiting, waiting

Days have blurred together, the Seraphims and cherubs taking care of you in your tender state. The halo of your husband minimized into a bracelet so you may always have a piece of him on you. You were so angry, so lonely, so confused on why he left you.

Your grief knows no bounds, the smile that you once have has not reached your eyes in a while. Always hiding away as Heaven didn’t seem so much of a paradise to you anymore.

Abel, the one you treated as a son, grown as he is, escorted you to your seat in Adam’s counsel box, before leaving you alone to move to his seat, awaiting an emergency meeting.

You did not want to come as the last time you did, you knew of your husband’s secrets, bringing forth a big fight.

What kinds of things did you do?

The guilt of pretending to sleep when he left for the last time almost ate you alive.

You could still feel the soft kiss on your cheek and a whisper of love before he took flight.

"I love you...my sun"

You wish you could’ve said it back.

You remembered the fight vividly, how he yelled and begged you to understand that all of this was to protect you. If his own flesh and blood was killed by a demon spawn, he would never forgive himself if the fallen snake could rise and take you too.

You wished you could’ve heard him out, to understand but the image of those souls screaming and begging for their lives as his army took them down was too terrifying to ignore.

When the speaker of God came from above, you gasped when you finally noticed the serpent in chains in the middle of the court.

It told of its sins in the mortal world, bringing its guilt to the grave. Tears of shame cleansing him of his sins begging the court for forgiveness.

You felt the light wash over you as you grip the edge of the boxseat, listening to the serpent, Sir Pentious, be forgiven by the speaker closest to God.

Adam was…wrong? Both sides were scared. It was only Heaven that attacked first? All in the name of an assumption. You’ve heard of the Queen of Demons and her song of deceit , the first woman. You don’t become the first man’s wife without hearing about the last two.

You saw Lute point to you, crazed that these disgusting sinners should be forgiven. You paid her no mind, only seeing the Sir Pentious.

Lute was taken away, kicking and screaming, for counseling. You almost felt sorry for her. Adam helped her break away from being another blank face in the army. Bringing individuality to his girls to the point they developed their own likes and dislikes, dreams and personality.

His death caused righteous anger with no way to quell the flames.

You prayed Abel can tame the wildfires.

Left a trail of red on every island As I traded friends like objects I could use Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you

The Sir Pentious was under constant watch, he cannot be left alone always having two cherubs on his shoulders for supervision.

You visited him in his workshop, accompanied by Emily the younger Seraphim who trusted the serpent at first sight.

“You were redeemed…”

“Yesss...?”

“Forgive my husband for…hurting you and your friends”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Sir Pentious wrapped you in his slender arms, saying that he would’ve done the same thing if it meant protecting the ones he loved.

You felt your heart mending itself slowly as you cried the darkness away in his arms, slowly letting hope back inside.

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo I am not the man you knew I know that you've been waiting, waiting

His clawed hands gently strung his guitar, his voice softly echoing as he sang his ballad into the red night. Heart heavy with lament as he finally truly accepted his fate.

The eye of heaven was beautiful in the dark red sky. Golden heaven-borne eyes constantly following the rings spin in its orbit day after day. How long has it been? Will heaven ever forgive him?

Will you ever forgive him…

I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting

Would he ever know that you were singing the same song as him?  

In the same balcony the first time you sang a duet together?

You have worked with Emily for the redemption of souls. If Sir Pentious can do it, only the truly repentant can so as well.

Adam’s army has trouble accepting Abel as their new leader but some as came forward to continue Adam’s legacy.

Waiting, waiting Waiting, waiting Waiting, oh For you

As you stared into the stars you wondered when your Adam will come back.

Some may have whispered behind your back that it is only the grief talking but you know your bull-headed husband.

He will come back and you’ll be here waiting for him.

You turned around quick, the twang of a guitar hitting the floor upon seeing who would open the balcony doors.

Is it you? Have my prayers been answered? Is it really you standing there or am I dreaming once more? You look different, your eyes look tired Your frame is lighter, your smile torn Is it really you, my love?

“My light, my sun…”

*sniffles*

[sarahisslytherin]

fools in love || r.b.

summary: your marriage to regulus has been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you make a lovely couple but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him.

contains: some light angst with a fluffy ending.

a/n: i know it's short, just a little something to ease back into the writing mindset.

12 grimmauld place is frozen in time this late at night. the halls are empty, the staircase lit only by bits of moonlight. tomorrow there will be light in these halls. there will be music and laughter. there will be rare displays of affection; the embrace of an estranged brother, the grave look of a mother. you will wear white and regulus will take your hand. but for now, the only light in dark grimmauld place is coming from the small flame on your bedside table.

your marriage to regulus had been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you made a lovely couple, you must admit, complimenting each other in ways you wouldn’t have expected of such a forced relationship. you’re sure regulus is pleased with you, but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him. 

now you sit up in your bed and shiver. half from the cold, half from the nerves. your eyes fix upon a corner of the room as your head runs wild with worry. will this marriage last? is regulus only in it to please his family? how long will he tolerate you before he realizes he wants someone he can actually love? 

you stand and slip on your robe, which billows as you pace barefoot into the hall. your candle lights the way to regulus’ door, the flame doing little to fight the cold. after two hesitant knocks comes a long pause, and you’re already turning to leave when the door finally opens. 

“to what do i owe the visit?” he smirks as he takes you in, examining your disheveled state. he steps aside and you waste no time marching into the dimly lit bedroom.

“we can call off the wedding if you want.” you blurt out. “we can call it all off.”

his brows furrow in confusion. “what? why would i want that?”

“reg, you don’t have to pretend with me.” you plead, taking his cold hands in your own. “what good will we be if we aren’t both in love?”

at this, his hand drops from yours to instead pinch the bridge of his nose. “i knew this would happen.” he sighs as he sits at the edge of the bed. 

“you did?” you ask in disbelief, kneeling in front of him and brushing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. “i just don’t think we should go through with this. do you?”

“i don’t know.” he sighs, clearly at a loss for words. “i don’t know what i was thinking. i supposed you’d just fall in love over time, or at least grow fond enough of me to make this work. but i see that simply won’t happen and i understand. i’ll go speak with mother first thing in the morning, call the whole thing off.”

you watch as he puts his head in his hands, his breathing growing ragged and heavy.

“reg, i- that’s not what i meant.” you rasp. “i’m certainly in love with you, i only thought you didn’t feel the same.”

regulus gives you an expression somewhere between shock, pain and embarassment. “it seems only i can be madly in love for months and not let the person know till the wedding.” you can’t help but chuckle at that, sitting beside him on the bed as you gently pry his hands from his face and into your lap. “i thought you knew.” he sighs.

“and i thought you knew.” you smile, a bittersweet tear streaming down your cheek.

“what fools we are.” regulus laughs into your neck, his lashes brushing against you. 

“we are all fools in love.” you say before meeting his gaze. “i’m your fool, regulus.”

“and i yours.”

taglist: @velvetcloxds @oliverwoodmarrymepls @canibeoneofthepogues @leahsficemporium @saintlike78 ​ @sereinegemini ​ @imabee-oralizard ​ @sheraayasher ​ @mendesxruel ​ @gilmore-angel ​ @cupids-crystals ​ @amourrs

[writing-whenever-whatever]

The deal - you think I wanted this 

Aegon x sister wife reader

part 1 part 2 part 3

Masterlist

Summary: you and aegon are force into an unhappy marriage at a young age, little did your mother expect no love it or duty would be fulfilled till the final deal is struck

Warning : toxic relationship, targcest, force marriage, drunk aegon, fights, anger, bastard, talk of cheating and disloyalty, mummy issues, family problems, hate

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It was early days in mine and aegon’s marriage but it didn’t take me long to realise this wouldn’t be a happy one, since the day mother announced that me her youngest daughter who was sent to live with her family in high garden and her drunken oldest son would marry Aegon made his displeasure extremely clear.

He was a free soul who lived his life going against the rules he goes out fucking every whore in the brothels in the street of silk and drinking every last brain cell away. While I am more sensible one who would rather sit and read than run riots through kingslanding.

I was very surprised that I was forced to marry Aegon I expected to be betrothed to my other brother Aemond but mother thought he’d be better off marrying a lady of a different house to build alliances and that also went for our sister Helena mother thought she was too soft and sensitive to deal with Aegon’s drunken behaviour.

 so here I am laying in our marital bed alone, reading in the candle light an empty glass of wine resting on the bed side table as I wait for my husband to return from his debauchery. It’s no surprise that it’s past the hour of the owl when he finally returns reeking of cheap wine his clothes messy as if they’ve been thrown back on him in a rush his eyes are heavy as he quietly opens the door expecting me to be asleep as he staggers in I sit up to greet him the bed covers tugged over my legs “ how was your night husband “ I ask looking at him my eyes filled with a slight sorrow as his face twists at the name “ it was a night” he exclaims rather loudly as he moves to his side of the bed tugging at his boots to take them off “ why are you awake sweet y/n” he looks down at me his eyebrows furrowing slightly as I look up at him my silver blonde hair falling infront of my face messily

 “ I couldn’t sleep I heard mother shouting again the roll of queen dowager has gone to her head “ I sigh “ father is dying aegon and mother is struggling to accept it “ his head leans back slightly a grown leaving his lips as if to say he’s too drunk for this before he turns to me his hand gently pushing my hair out of my face “ you’re too sweet for this shit “ he mutters “ you worry about everyone even though they have cursed you with such a horrid life” I look at him as I see a small tear drip down his cheek “ I do not need your sympathy this is the duty a Targaryen woman must do this is my purpose “ I move away from his hand leaning down to rest my head on my pillow “ all I ask of you aegon is that we do our duty to make the family sons what proud, you can still go have your fun but remember who you’re coming home to” I turn away from him to lay on my side facing the wall as the candle light fades and slowly burns out I feel Aegon lean over me placing a kiss on my bare shoulders “ good night my wife” he mutters a twinge of disappointment in his voice as he lays joining the other side of the bed soon falling into a quick and alcohol induced sleep.

The next morning I wake up Aegon’s spot empty off on another one of his early morning errands, just to arrive back to the keep in time for breakfast. It’s no surprise to me that the talk we had late last night has clearly been forgotten and he’s back to his usual inconsiderate behaviour. 

staring at the maids as they serve up breakfast taking a odd glance up their skirts when he thinks no one is looking. it’s laughable that he doesn’t expect the death stare from mother as she enters the room taking her seat at the head of the table nearest the door. 

“ Aegon where were you last night” she asks glaring at him from across the table as she sips on her morning tea “ I went out with a few of the guards mother they deserved a fun night out” he responds sitting back in his seat as I rest my hand on his leg gently for him to shuffle away “ I do not expect you to enter the keep in ungodly hours and cause havoc” she snaps “ mother he came straight to bed after returning “ I look at her sweetly “ he caused no trouble “ I add for her to sigh “ sweet girl why must you protect him when he causes our family such disgrace “ she questions me her face one of pity as I rise from my seat “ I do not come here to be questioned and my husband doesn’t deserve to be treated in such a way mother” I turn away starting to walk to the door “ please y/n wait” mother protests “ no I must get started in my day” I leave the room

 Aegon sits there slightly stunned as Aemond leans towards him “ you’re lucky to have such a woman at your side any other woman wouldn’t protect you for shit” he says smugly his eye twinkling in the light as aegon pushes him away “ shut up” he grumbles tucking into his breakfast stuffing his mouth messily with beacon and sausage ignoring the glares he gets from around the room. 

Helaena mutters to herself from across the table “ if you keep sleeping around she’ll find her duty else where “ her eyes meet aegon as he pushes his plate away from him “ mind your own business our marriage has nothing to do with any of you” he growls angrily “ it has everything to do with us “ mother stands up walking to aegon “ please at least do this one thing to make our family proud “ her hand holds his chin gently her brown eyes boring into him “ I’m trying mother” he sighs pulling away from her “ try harder” she adds before he pushes the door open leaving the room moping slightly as he walks through the halls. 

I’m sat in the dragon pit listening to the calm grumbles from within as I read to myself quietly my hair pinned out of my face as dust coats my skirts from the dirt bellow me it’s not unusual for me to stay down here the smell of smoke filling the air as I read under the light amber light is much calmer than the chaos within the keep.

Till my peace is disrupted by the sound of rushed footsteps coming down the steps “ I need to get out of here i can’t deal with this shit anymore “ Aegon turns the corner his face flushed with anger “ not many of us can anymore “ I look at him pulling him out of his thoughts “ shit y/n I didn’t know you were down here” he stares down at me “ where are you going “ I ask “ on a fly on sunfyer” he sighs quietly “ just to clear my head” I nod looking back down to my book “ fly safely” I smile slightly as he walks past me towards the dragons leaving me back to my thoughts. 

As he flies off I hear the roars of the other dragons in the pit distressed by the distraction I rush through to my dragon queenhelm “ Gīda queenhelm gaomagon daor zūgagon jurnegon va issa” ( calm queenhelm do not distress focus on me) I speak clearly running my hand along her dark green scales the black tints twinkling in the light as her snout lowers to take a deep breath smoke huffing from her nostrils her opal like eyes boring into me “Konīr īlon jikagon ao’re sȳz hāedar” (There we go you’re alright girl) as she lowers herself to the ground calming completely I keep stroking my hand over her head h” there we go” I smile sweetly as I see guards rush in “ princess is everything alright “ they sound out of breath panicked by the sudden noise from the pit “ everything is fine” I reassure them “ aegon left in a rush he took her mate sunfyre away so she was startled but she’s clam now” I look back at them as they come to approach me “ this may come as a surprise but your nephews and sister are coming to visit they will be arriving in the next few days the queen told me to prepare you and the prince so you’re ready “ he rests his hand on my shoulder causing me to flinch slightly “ goodness aegon will struggle with this news” I sigh moving away from the guard “ I will tell him when he arrives thank you” I bow my head slightly walking back into the keep back towards my quarters to wait for aegon to return. 

While he’s away I tidy the room up getting the room clear of every breakable object knowing how he’s going to react to the unexpected visit of our sister Rhaenyra and her bastard children I also get a fresh jug of wine placing it at the centre of the table. 

It’s a few hours spent alone mentally preparing myself till aegon walk through the door still in his riding gear “ Aegon how was your flight “ I ask pouring him a cup of wine as he pulls out the chair at the table “don’t ask” he sighs swigging the wine a few stray drops dripping down his chin “ I have some news I must tell you” I look at him in the eyes “ please try to stay calm” he pushes away from the table “ what is it y/n, stop hesitating and just tell me” he snaps “ fine it’s our nephews they are coming to the red keep” his eyes burn into me “ those bastards are coming here” he snarls as I nod “ I know I’m not happy about it either but they won’t be here for a few days so this gives us time to prepare “ I walk towards him “ fuck” he mutters his head leaning forward gently resting upon my shoulder his silver hair messily falling into his face “ I know “ I sigh lifting to stroke his thick hair gently but he quickly pulls away flipping the table angrily 

“ FUCK” he shouts louder the jug crashing down onto the floor “ please aegon calm yourself “ I wince slightly as he turns to me pushing me backwards “ DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO WOMAN” I fall back pushing myself back into the wooden pillars of the bed “ first you bring me this bad news then you make me waist good wine” he glares down at me “ FUCK” he shouts again 

“ YOU THINK I WANT THIS AEGON TO BE YOUR WIFE TO BE A PART OF THIS HORRIFIC FAMILY” I stand up pushing forward prodding my finger into his chest “ I HAVE PUT UP WITH SO MUCH BECAUSE OF YOU AND NOW LOOK IVE SNAPPED” I laugh looking up at him as his face falls to a confused and concerned expression he’s never heard me shout or loose my temper this is the first as I suddenly start punching his chest letting out a pathetic whale “ I HATE YOU “ I sob repeating it over and over again as he grabs my wrists restraining me as I collapse to my knees all he can to is hold me his hand running over my head hushing me quietly “ im sorry sister i do not mean to” he sighs holding me closer than before letting my tears soak into his tunic “ I can’t let my anger out on you” he mutters quietly “ i know neither of us wanted this” he adds placing a kiss atop my head. 

“ everything has become fucked ever since Aemond lost his eye and then mother made us marry “ I stutter slightly rubbing my eyes “ it’s all their fault and I know that “ I spit at the thought of  Rhaenyra being in our home again “ she made mother worried four our line she made her marry us she made this mess happen” Aegon adds his voice slightly bitter “ but it’s not your fault” he looks down at me letting out a sigh “ you were still just a girl when mother married us not even bloomed “ he sighs his hot breath hitting the top of my head “and that’s all I see when I look at you y/n, my little sister, a little girl who is scared of what happens next” I look down slightly ashamed in the fact “ Aegon” I mutter quietly “ I have a suggestion that may work for us” I look at him holding his hand gently “ go on”

“ we have our child give them an heir then we fuck who we want” I look at him as his face turns to hesitance “but what if you were impregnated by another man you’d be no better than our bastard loving sister” he looks down at me “ I will drink moon tea and even if I was to be with another mans child the first born the hire to the Targaryen name  will be yours” I squeeze his hand gently as he appears deep in thought “ you’d still be my wife” he asks looking into my eyes as I nod 

“ who would you fuck” he seems intrigued as I let out a sigh “ im not sure but it could be useful to build some sort of alliances “ he agrees humming quietly “ what if the word gets out that the princess is a whore” he looks concerned “ there are always rumours. No one can confirm them though.” I look at him bowing my head slightly “ fine” he look holds my hand gently “ I think it’ll work out” I kiss his cheek “ thank you Aegon” I smile sweetly as I pull away “ but I wish to know who you sleep with” he adds looking down at me “ and I want the details” he smirks as I let out a small giggle “ fine that’s a deal”