#this brought to you by me asking before hand if they would be comfortable signing fan art
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~Blood & BLISS~
Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy, blood, murder, secrets
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor.
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you.
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man. You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He, himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him.
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be!
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so.
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget, Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.”
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on.
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight”
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor smut#alastor hazbin hotel#human alastor x reader#human alastor#alastor x wife reader#alastor fluff#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor imagine#alastor x you#alastor headcanons
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Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin.
You need him.
You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.
Ghost.
“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.
“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”
“I can’t, I–”
“Ye’re open from two to close.”
“Book her. The full day.”
“What?!”
“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.
Well.
Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.
Fuck it.
You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.
You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.
“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”
“Yes. I did.”
Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.
“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.
“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”
There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.
“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?”
What?
He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.
“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.
It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.
The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.
The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core.
The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.
“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.
He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”
Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’
The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.
“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”
Why does he want to look at—?
The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.
“Okay…”
He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.
“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.
“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”
You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.
You have no idea what he sees in you.
He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries.
The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.
“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.”
It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.
“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.
“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor.
“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.
“That so?”
“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”
“And Cap?”
“Who? Oh, you mean John?”
“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”
“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–
“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.
“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.
Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.
Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”
You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.
“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.”
Yes.
“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”
Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.
“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.
Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy.
“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.
“Rules?”
“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.
“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.
“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink.
“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”
It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.
“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.
“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?”
The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.
Next>>>
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ‘ghost’ riley#simon “ghost” riley#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x f!reader#cod fanfic#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mw#cod x reader#cod x you#dub con#cw self harm
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MunchSpencer, stressed bau reader 😉 do ur thing
A/N: I will absolutely do my thing for you iluvreid. Did I base this of that video of MGG eating that pie? Yes. Do I think about that video daily? Yes. Also to answer somebody else’s questions, I am planning on writing Luke fics in the future, and I do take Rossi requests (I take all requests that are to do with CM). I am also working through everyone’s else’s request, I’m waiting for some inspiration on the song ones :) As always jag älskar dig 🫶🏼
Content: Smut and Fluff. Fem! Reader. Overstimulation. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal fingering. Slight dom/sub undertones. Mentions of doing this at work in the future. Munch! Spencer. Pet names (princess). A little argument to start of with, but it’s resolved quickly.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation.
Spencer had noticed how you were acting at work; he knew all the signs of you being stressed out. He tried his hardest to de-stress you at work, he had brought you all of your favourite snacks, he made sure you had plenty of water and coffee, but none of this seemed to be working.
Once you were both at home, he tried to ask you what was wrong, but you just shrugged him off, asking him to just leave you alone for a minute. “I’m not going to leave you alone; I know something is wrong. Just tell me.” His voice was strained, he was becoming frustrated, not with you, but because he didn’t know what to do.
“Spencer, back off. Nothing is wrong, I’ve told you. I’m just tired.” You bite back at him. You knew he was trying to be helpful, but you just wanted some piece of quiet.
“Something is wrong, why aren’t you telling me? Let me help you out here.” Spencer's voice softened as he watched the frustration etched on your face. He understood that his insistence might have been adding to your stress, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain. With a sigh, he took a step closer and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace.
"I'm sorry if I'm coming across as pushy. I just hate seeing you like this, and I want to be there for you," he whispered against your hair, his fingers slowly rubbing soothing circles on your back. Spencer knew what would help him out if he was stressed, and he knew it would also work on you.
See, Spencer’s favourite place was to be in-between your legs. If he could, he would spend every hour, of every day there, exploring every inch of your body, losing himself in the pleasure he found there. He cherished the way you moaned his name, the way your legs would tremble as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy.
His hands continued their caress, moving lower down your back until they reached the curve of your hips. He could feel the tension in your body slowly melting away as his touch seeped into your pores, bringing warmth and comfort. The rhythm of his movements matched the beating of your heart, steady and reassuring.
"I know you're tired, but maybe... just maybe, I can help you relax," Spencer murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of gentleness and desire. He guided you towards the bedroom, with every intention of not letting you leave until you were totally relaxed.
As he undressed you with utmost care, his fingertips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Spencer's touch was like a delicate dance. His lips followed suit, pressing soft kisses along the path his hands had taken.
You found yourself surrendering to his ministrations, allowing the weight of the world to be lifted from your shoulders as pleasure consumed you. The stress that had plagued you all day melted away under the skilled touch of your lover.
The bed welcomed you both, its soft sheets cradling your bodies as Spencer continued his exploration. He knew every inch of you, every secret spot that drove you wild with desire. His mouth found its way to your neck, peppering it with butterfly kisses before trailing down to your collarbone.
A sigh escaped your lips, mingling with a gasp of pleasure as Spencer's tongue danced across your skin. The knots in your muscles unravelled as his hands glided over your body, burning away any remnants of stress. Your breath hitched as his lips descended further, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your chest, pausing to pay special attention to your sensitive breasts.
Spencer's touch was both tender and insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of desire across your skin. He knew exactly how to coax pleasure from your body, each stroke and caress tailored to elicit the most exquisite sensations. With every passing moment, the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a growing sense of bliss that radiated from deep within.
Lust and love intertwined as Spencer's mouth found its way to the apex of your thighs. His tongue teased and taunted, sending electric currents of pleasure through your veins. Waves of heat cascaded through you, building with each flicker and swirl until they crashed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.
Your moans filled the room, mingling with Spencer's own growls of desire as he revelled pleasure. His movements became more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, coaxing louder cries of satisfaction from your lips. You clutched onto his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you rode the waves of pleasure that consumed you.
Spencer’s hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath. Your hips were instinctively rocking against his skilled mouth, grinding against his face in search of more.
Spencer's touch was relentless, his tongue and lips working tirelessly to ensure your pleasure knew no bounds. The sensation of his mouth on you, the wet heat, and the flicks of his tongue, sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. Your walls clenched around nothing as your body convulsed in bliss.
But Spencer didn’t plan on stopping now, he was never satisfied if he only made you cum once. And now, more than ever, he was going to continue, he knew you needed it, and he knew he wanted it.
Soon enough, his fingers joined his mouth slipping inside you with a precision that left you trembling. You hadn’t been able to come down from your first orgasm, and now you were soaring even higher. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers brought you to the brink of another climax within moments. Every stroke, every flick, and every curl of his fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
You lost all sense of time and space, consumed by the pleasure that coursed through every fibber of your being. Your mind became a haze of pure desire as Spencer continued to bring you to new heights with every stroke, every flick of his tongue.
Spencer's movements became more insistent, his fingers moving with an urgency that matched the burning need in your core. Each stroke sent shockwaves through you, intensifying the pleasure that consumed you. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another mind-shattering orgasm.
He paused, giving you a slight break. “Are you feeling better now, princess?”
You lay there, panting heavily, your body still trembling from the intense pleasure that Spencer had just bestowed upon you. Your mind was hazy, your senses heightened, and a sense of tranquillity washed over you. The stress that had weighed you down seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction.
You turned to look at Spencer, his face glowing with adoration as he admired the aftermath of his ministrations. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded, the words caught momentarily in your throat.
"Yes," you finally managed to rasp out, your voice laced with awe and gratitude. "I feel... incredible."
Spencer's eyes sparkled with delight as he took in your response. He gently caressed your cheek, his touch feather-light against your flushed skin.
"Good," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "That's all I wanted."
“I think I should get stressed more often.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lazily along your side. "If getting stressed means, I get to relieve your tension like this, then I might have to start causing trouble on purpose."
You playfully swatted his chest, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, so you're admitting that you enjoy being the cause of my stress?"
His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned down to capture yours in a lingering kiss.
“No, I’m admitting that I love hearing your moans, and it took all my might not to do this at work, but I can’t let the rest of the team hear how you moan for me. Those noises are for my ears only.”
Your heart raced at his words, a delicious mixture of desire and anticipation coursing through your veins. You had always known that Spencer had a playful side, but this level of raw intimacy was something new and exhilarating.
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his as you whispered, "Well then, Agent Reid, I guess we'll have to find somewhere at work no one would be able to hear us”.
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
Earned Position
5.3k words
You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
#dc#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#fem reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#Damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#batfamily x reader#batmom reader#batmom#request#cipheress-to-k-pop
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The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation
Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.
Word count: 4.4k
Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist
If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.
But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.
The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.
You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.
Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.
It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.
And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.
So handsome…
A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.
“May I kiss you?”
You blinked a few times. “What?”
His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.
“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”
You blinked again.
What?
You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.
Great. Now I'm hallucinating…
He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”
Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.
Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.
“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.
“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”
She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”
You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.
Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”
Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.
“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”
The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”
As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.
“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”
He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”
Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.
He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”
“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”
“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”
Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”
You shot him a death glare.
He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”
This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”
His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”
You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.
Shadowheart scoffed.
“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”
You needed to change the subject.
Fast.
You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.
This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.
“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.
“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”
You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”
Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”
“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.
“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”
Fair enough.
“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.
But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.
Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.
She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”
“House arrest.” Astarion informed.
Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.
“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”
Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”
She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”
He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.
“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”
Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”
You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.
To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.
Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”
Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.
“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”
“On that much we can agree.” He mused.
She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”
“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”
You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.
That would be as far as she'd go, though.
“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”
You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.
“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”
The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”
Your stomach lurched violently.
He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”
Now, you felt positively sick to your core.
A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.
“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”
Gale grumbled something in agreement.
But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.
The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.
“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”
Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.
But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.
Astarion.
His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”
You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”
His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”
“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.
He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”
“You won't even deny it.”
“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”
You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.
Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.
He was there, but not really.
He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.
Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”
His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.
Right.
You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”
The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.
You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.
Had you been too dramatic?
Did it even matter at this point?
Maybe it was better off this way.
You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.
Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.
Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.
After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.
That was until you heard a distant voice.
A woman's voice.
Her voice.
“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”
You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.
And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.
“No - stop! Get off!”
He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.
“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”
“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.
He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.
You were going to die.
He was going to kill you.
“Stop! Please - Astarion!”
Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.
You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.
“ASTARION!”
The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.
“Wake up.”
How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?
Were you already dead?
Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.
“Wake up!”
The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.
“Get the fuck off me!”
You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.
He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.
Bergamot.
Rosemary.
Aged brandy.
It was him.
He was there.
The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.
Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.
He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.
“You're safe."
For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.
He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.
“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."
You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.
The door to your room burst open.
“What happened? What did you do?”
Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.
“She was having a nightmare.”
His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.
“Oh. Another one…”
You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.
But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.
“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.
Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.
You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”
Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”
“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.
Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.
You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”
“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”
You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.
She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.
Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?
He scoffed. “No.”
“What?”
“You'll have to stake me.”
You were utterly confused by his perseverance.
“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”
He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”
Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.
And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.
“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”
He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”
His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.
“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”
You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.
“What are the first two, then?”
You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.
Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.
“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”
But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.
You felt as though you might implode.
His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.
“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.
He was too good at getting under your skin.
More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.
“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.
“I aim to please.”
His words hit you like a thousand knives.
“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.
But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.
“Don't. Do not start…”
You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”
He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”
You were slightly taken aback.
“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”
Oh.
“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”
You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.
“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”
You felt a lump swell in your throat.
He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.
“What haunts you?”
You.
“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.
Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.
You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.
He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.
“We don't have to talk about it.”
You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”
“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”
Your heart hammered fast inside you.
He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.
A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.
Please kiss me…
His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.
Astarion…
Almost there.
You could almost taste him.
Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.
Please… please…
As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.
You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.
A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.
“I can stay until you fall asleep.”
Your heart dropped.
Everything was conditional with him.
It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.
He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.
It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.
You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”
“I can stay.”
“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.
He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”
You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.
“Will you hug me?”
He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”
For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.
Open and caring.
You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.
His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.
“Am I too cold?”
You're perfect.
You shook your head vehemently.
But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.
“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.
You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.
Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.
Maybe this was all a dream.
Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.
That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.
His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.
“Astarion?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened to us…”
The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”
Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.
You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.
Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.
“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.
He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.
Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.
It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.
Morning came and he was gone.
Of course he was.
Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.
He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.
You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.
His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.
You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.
Why did he always leave in the end?
Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?
You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.
He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.
You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.
As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.
“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”
You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.
“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”
Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”
You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”
Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”
You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.
“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.
“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”
“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”
Guilt hit you.
Of course she had.
Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.
And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.
A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.
No.
No fucking way.
You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.
“Who is it?” Gale asked.
“No one.”
Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.
“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.
Ava.
Next chapter: Broken - November 26
Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷
#astarion smut#astarion angst#astarion x female reader#astarion x tav#astarion x f!tav#astarion x female tav#astarion scenario#astarion x you#astarion x reader
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Staying over
Frat! Rafe Cameron x autistic! Fem reader
Rafe brings you over to his apartment to stay over for the first time. W. C 1.4K
Warnings! Mutual masturbation! Choking! Spitting! Daddy kink! Unprotected sex! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx reader is autistic but it’s not explicitly said!
Your bag was stuffed with pajamas, medication, stuffed animals, and of course a charger for your headphones. It was the first night you were spending the night at Rafe’s apartment off the college campus as his girlfriend. You weren’t necessarily nervous staying with him. It was more about the change in routine being at someone else’s house. Rafe did pretty well in accommodating you and your needs but you were still apprehensive.
He opened the door for you, carrying your bag as you pulled off your headphones. He bought you a really expensive pair two weeks ago, one of the nicest gifts you’d ever received. But you loved giving him gifts too, especially hand crafted. You removed your shoes, matching socks padding the hardwood floor as you looked around. You saw your trinkets you made him on his desk and shelves.
“Aw, you have them up!” You grin and he nods.
“Of course I do, princess. My girls talent is always gonna be shown off.” You blush and look at the floor as you both walk into his bedroom. He sets down your bag and pulls you into a hug.
“You okay, baby? Hungry?” Rafe sets his chin on top of your head.
“No, I ate before you picked me up.” You answer back and he sighs.
“I love you, princess. I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”
You giggle and bury your face in his chest. “We talked last night. And this morning. And this afternoon-“
“So? I want you with me all the time. You’re my favorite person.” He mumbles, playing with your hair and he pulls back. Rafe’s blue eyes search yours but your gaze roam his face.
“Do you wanna get comfortable? Watch a movie or something?”
You playfully poke his shoulder.
“Is that just an excuse, Mr. Cameron? For you to get me in your bed?” He smirks and leans down.
“I don’t need an excuse for that, baby. But I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything.”
“You’re sweet, you know that, Rafe?” He breathlessly runs a hand through his hair, flustered by your compliment.
“Yeah, only for you though. But damn, babe. How much did you pack for tonight?” He gestures to your backpack. “You gonna change outfits every hour?”
You push him gently with a laugh. “Shut up! I need my things or I’ll lose my mind!”
Rafe sits on the bed, legs spread as he rests his elbows on the mattress. His shirt material bunching. “Easy with the violence, baby girl. Why don’t you get changed? Show me what you brought.”
You unzip your bag, pulling out a cute piece you bought the other day. The material was soft and comfortable. An oversized Ghostface night shirt that would reach your mid thigh with your black pair of shorts.
You quickly changed, his eyes sweeping over you as you stood in front of him. Rafe’s hand settled low on your hips, fingers playing with the material of your shorts. “Mmm, you’re so pretty, princess. You’re my fuckin dream girl.”
You bite your lip, feeling slightly anxious as you notice a change in sound. It must have been a dying battery somewhere but it was making your skin crawl. You wanted your headphones but you also didn’t want to seem like you wanted to tune him out.
“You don’t think I’m…weird, right?” You ask quietly and he frowns.
“Uh oh. I know that look. You want your headphones?” You grimace and nod.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to tolerate more but-“ Rafe tugs your face to him, cupping your neck.
“Nah, baby. None of that. It’s okay. I know what I signed up for.” You smile gratefully as he brings them to you seconds later, securing them around your ears.
After needed time of quiet, you sat on his bed with your eyes shut as you held your plushie close to you and Rafe tried not to fidget too much. Finally, you removed your barrier and set them down on his side table.
“Can we watch something?”
“Of course, baby doll. Anything you want. Even the scary shit.” You immediately perk up, media being some of your special interests.
“Sinister?” You suggest and he grimaces before catching himself. “What? Is that one too much for my big scary boyfriend?” You tease.
“Fuck no. I wouldn’t be a fuckin dumbass and stay in the house like that dude did.”
“No, you’d offer the demon to snort a line of coke with you.” You dead pan and he laughs. Loudly.
“Jesus, you’re funny.”
You were hyper focused on the movie as the night went on, informing Rafe facts you’d learned by hours of research on your own time and he listened best he could. But you didn’t notice his hand lingering around his crotch. Not until the movie was over and you had laid flat on your back with him next to you.
You felt him shift and you grew quiet. Your own needs rising as Rafe switched his LED lights on a dimmer setting. His fingers drifted to touch your arm, tracing your skin as he looked at you.
“You’re driving me insane, doll. I feel like I’m gonna fuckin bust in my pants.” You swallow and stare at the ceiling.
“Driving you insane?”
“Yeah. Your body is perfect. Shorts barely covering your ass and tits bouncing. You don’t even have to try. I’ve been thinking about you staying here for days. I jerk off about it.” He admits without an ounce of shame and your face heats up.
“Me too.”
“Yeah? You finger fuck that wet pussy thinking about me?” Rafe asks, his voice growing lower and you nod. Play with that pussy then you’re gonna cream on my dick.”
You suck your fingers, getting them damp before you tug down your shorts and panties. Your cunt clenches as you circle your clit, wetness pulsing as you feel Rafe take his cock in his fist. You slide two fingers in easily, your body accustomed to this as you pump them. You moan as you hear Rafe pant and feel him roll his hips.
“Ah, fuck. Something about you alone in your room, fucking yourself while you think about me.” He strokes harder before he finally breaks and pulls you on top of him.
Your legs straddle his lap, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes you down on his dick, he sits up and you tear off his shirt. Your fingernails lightly dig into his chest. You take him to the hilt, your right hand moving to play with his balls.
“Look at me,” He orders and you bounce on his cock, avoiding his eyes but he refused to let it go. “No. Keep your eyes on me, princess. I wanna see how it good it feels when you cream on my cock,” he growls and you obey him as you grind down.
He massages your tits as he helps you, your movements growing sloppy as you get closer. “Rafe-it feels so good-“ You stammer and he grunts.
“Yeah, babydoll? You like it when daddy fills you up? You like being a greedy little slut for me?” You nod with a whimper and he slaps your ass hard. “Cum for me, princess. And then I’m gonna fucking pound you until you’re screamin.”
You cum all over his dick, whining as you shake and your vision goes white but he’s relentless as he flips you on your back. His hand around your throat. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, getting a deeper angle and thrusts harder.
You shriek from overstimulation but your hands clutch his shoulders. “Open your mouth,” He says and you do. He spits inside, “You’re such a good girl, baby. Taking me like a fucking whore,”
“Mhm, needed this so bad, daddy. I want you to cum in me, want it to spill out and soak the bed.” You beg and he moans, tightening his grip on your neck, keeping your eyes on him.
“That’s it, princess. Proud of you for talking through it,” He huffs before he cums in you, the headboard slamming against the wall and your pussy squelches. He lets go of your throat, hands on either side of your head as he fucks through his climax.
“Fuck, princess. Squeezing me so hard, your cunt feels so good,” He praises and you blink rapidly as he pulls out, pumping his dick and cum drips on your tits. “Messy little slut. I want you to get on all fours. Gonna cum on that pretty tattoo on your back.”
Tagging @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @redhead1180 @rafesthroatbaby @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @gri959 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron smut#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#outerbanks#outer banks#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#drew starkey#drew starkey smut
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hrr okay so request! may you please write some vox x reader smut? maybe its readers first time and she's hella nervous and mr egotistical has no idea how to comfort her abt it since he's usually oh so rough but he tries being softer just for her?? i love vox so much im insane but TYYYY!!!!
»»------► 𝙰 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚎 (18+)
Pairing: 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Word Count: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔
Warnings: 𝙵/𝙼 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛
A/N: 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚎… 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚊𝚜𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍; 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜
𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚎
The last thing you were expecting after dying was being dragged down into the pits of a reddish hell. You were practically America’s sweetheart for crying out loud, you were the star of the late 1950s; always nice to your fans, and not to mention that you had raised and donated millions to charities across the world with your wealth.
Why the fuck were you in hell?
Storming down the street, you pushed over some slimy looking man as he walked a bit too close to you. “Move it, jackass.”
You really had no clue why you were brought here.
But you weren’t about to let that ruin what you had. Sure, you were dead; but you were still living. You would just build yourself up again.
And you did.
It took barely a month before you became the talk of hell, but it wasn't good enough for you. You craved for more power, craved to see yourself plastered over every building, poster and billboard.
So when an upcoming overload that had control over the majority of the media output in hell who called himself Vox came seeking you out; he offered you a deal that you couldn’t refuse.
He would give you the fame you desired until the end of time, and in return, he wanted your absolute loyalty; your body, your love, and your life.
You signed instantly.
After your contract was set in stone, you found that Vox had enacted his side of the deal pretty much overnight. You remember the day vividly; your face on the cover of everything, letting all the vermin sinners bask in your lovely existence, and to know of your arrival in hell. From then on, you were back to your high celebrity status that you had attained whilst you were alive.
At first, all Vox made you do was go on dates with him; which was an assortment of him taking you to restaurants, clubs, or his penthouse, which was something you found yourself enjoying more than you thought you would. But as time passed, he began growing more confident in asking for you to hug him, to kiss him.
One night, he had asked you to come to his penthouse, and as you sat in his lap, laughing whilst he took a shot from in between the junction of your breasts, he confessed that he had a thing for you whilst he was alive.
“Oh, so you no longer have feelings for me, Vox?” You whispered into his screen as he leaned back into the loveseat.
The light that emitted off his face only flooded itself with a hint of luscious pink as he huffed out, closing his eyes before opening his mouth. “You know I still have a thing for you. It’s why you’re currently sat in my lap.”
Giggling, you pushed yourself against him, walking the tips of your nails against his screen. “I know, but I want to hear you say it; properly.”
As he looked at you with his glowing eyes, he placed a hand around the fat of your hip. “I’ll tell you, on one condition.”
“Do tell?” You asked whilst leaning your cheek against him, stroking shapes into his chest.
You could feel his chest rumble before he spoke. “You let me fuck you.”
Instantly you stilled upwards, sitting back to look at him. He didn’t like how your body had left his; didn’t like how you looked almost disgusted as the words left his mouth.
“Look, Vox,” You began, your hands gesturing as you spoke. “I like you, don’t get me wrong, but I promised myself never to fuck someone who I worked with or for.” You confessed; but with the alcohol in your body, you said more than you had meant to. “I’m still a virgin for fuck sakes, I can’t-”
Freezing up, you realised what you had said. The alcohol in your body seemed to sober up as the shock of realisation settled in.
Why did you have to admit that to the man who practically owned you?
Vox could only look at you in disbelief. He had read and heard so many scandals about you fucking your way into stardom when you were both alive; but despite that, he knew you were telling the truth. Placing a hand on your thigh, his sharp tips caressed you. “You don’t work with or for me though, sweetheart.” His teeth showed with his growing smirk. “I own you.”
As you looked down at him, you couldn’t deny the connection you had built with him. You did like him; moreso, you liked what he could offer you, you liked the power he held, and despite his nonhuman face, you did find yourself finding him quite the looker.
Despite all the suitors you had attained in your living life, you had never found someone attractive enough to stand by your side. Leave it to you to find the fucker with a television for a head be the first guy you actually liked.
Ridiculous.
You were already dead, you may as well find out what the fuss about sex was.
You would give him your virginity.
“Fine. But you better fuck me how I tell you to fuck me.” You spat at him before you smashed your face into his, kissing his strange face that could weirdly produce a 3D touchable projection of a tongue that was so wet. Grabbing the sides of his screen, Vox could only groan as he found the entire interaction the hottest thing he had ever witnessed.
He couldn’t believe he was about to fuck the woman who he had wanked off to throughout his years alive.
Despite his usual roughness during sex; craving control over his sexual partners, he would, for you only, allow you to dictate his pace.
You pulled away from the heated kiss before standing up; Vox reaching for you as you stood, but halting once you began to slip the dress off of your body. As it dropped to your ankles, you stepped out of it confidently, basking in your own ego as Vox seemed absolutely starstruck as he gazed over every crevice of your body.
Looking up at you, his dead heart pumped all the blood from his body into his cock as he watched you place your hands on your knees, squeezing your breasts together as you leaned toward him. “You wanna fuck me, Vox?” For the first time in his life, Vox’s eyes blew out as he found himself lost for words.
How the fuck had you managed to make him so nervous? You were the virgin; not him.
As he nodded slowly, allowing red pixelated drool to seep from the rim of his screened lips, you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over him to make sure all he could see was you. “Then you better put me somewhere more appropriate; this is no place for a lady to lose her virginity after all, is it?” You whispered in his face.
With a newfound confidence, Vox stood up before pushing you back slightly, grabbing the thick of your thighs before you could actually fall; forcing you to jump up and wrap your legs around the small of his waist. As he carried you towards the bed across the room, he shoved his tongue down your throat, drinking up the wetness of your mouth as your sharp teeth prodded his tongue throughout the kiss.
You had expected Vox to be a tad rougher considering who he was, you knew he enjoyed being rough, so when he gently laid you down on the bed, you were surprised. Leaning over your figure, he began to undress himself, grinning cockily when he slapped the tip of his sex against your thigh. “This appropriate enough for you, sweetheart?” He mumbled as his fingers grazed over the slit of your heated core.
Hissing in pleasure, you glared at him. “You better be gentle, or I'll crack that stupidly handsome face of yours.” You cried out as he plunged a finger inside of you.
You were not expecting it to feel so good already.
His smile only covered almost the entirety of his screen as the red drool only became more prominent; you thought he was handsome?. “Sweetheart, you can threaten me all you want but we both know you’re at my mercy.” He added another finger into your wet sex, making you moan ever so slightly. “But because it’s you, I’ll do whatever you fucking want.”
You could only sigh as his fingers pulled away, only to be replaced by his cock as the tip teased your entrance. You closed your eyes as a slight stinging sensation began to flourish where he was slightly prodding into you.
Gripping onto his arms to ground yourself, he kissed you with a softness you weren’t used to from him; he was always rough whenever he had kissed you before; this contrast was very welcome.
It made you feel powerful as he executed your demand of gentleness.
Whining into the kiss, he slowly forced his way into you, scorching your core with a pain you weren’t expecting. “You need me to stop?” He whispered as he felt your face contort into discomfort. Looking into his glowing eyes, you felt your heart race as you felt his cock halfway inside of you. Shaking your head, you asked him to continue before you let him devour your mouth with his tongue once more.
As he slowly forced the rest of his cock inside of you, you felt drops of sweat begin to form on your forehead from the pain. But as he pulled back, fucking into you at a slow pace, the pain began subsiding for pleasure, and you naturally became more receptive to Vox’s kisses and thrusts; meeting him halfway as you began to lift your hips up to meet his.
You could only start babbling his name along with loud moans as the pain fully disappeared; only pleasure deriving from his cock pulsing and pushing inside your cunt. Gripping his screen, you gritted your teeth in strange pleasure as one of his corded wires began sending electrical shocks into your clit.
“You’re so beautiful, but you know that don’t you?” Vox moaned as his thrusts began to become more rough as he started to feel his balls tighten, indicating his orgasm was soon approaching. As you nodded your head, he watched your body move up and down on the bed as he fucked you. He was going to cum into your cunt. He could feel it edging slowly; so he made the electrical shocks more intense on your clit to force you into your own orgasm.
Screams of pleasure were all he could hear from your lips as he could feel the electrical pulse from his wires press into your clit. Gripping your hips, he rammed himself into you at a pace you weren’t expecting, your eyes rolled up as your thighs began to shake uncontrollably; your mouth stuck in a gasp as you felt yourself cum on Vox’s throbbing cock.
Letting out his own groan, Vox finally allowed the tightening of his balls to release as his orgasm shot into the walls of your slick heat, sinking his claws into your hips as his screen glitched through the ordeal.
As he came down from the high, he looked down into your after glowed face, basking in how you looked even more beautiful than you ever had before.
He couldn’t deny that he felt something a bit more than just a crush in that moment.
“I have more than just a thing for you.” Was all he whispered.
»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin hotel vox#vox smut#vox x reader smut#hazbin hotel x reader#reader insert#x reader
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"breathe for me." (l.mh)
plot; Stray Kids was doing an interview, promoting their new album. A loud noise causes Y/ns anxiety to spike. She does her best to keep calm, but she was showing signs of a panic attack coming on. Minho took notice immediately. He did his best to reassure her till the cameras shut off. The moment they did, he was quick to help calm her down through a panic attack.
paring; fem!9th!member!reader x BestFriend!Lee Minho
genre; angst, comfort
word count; 2.0k
warnings; anxiety, unhealthy habits (scratching, biting/picking lips, pinking skin, holding breath), dissociation, descriptive panic attack, 9th member reader, third person
request?; no
The interview was going fine. In fact, it was going rather smooth. Too smooth. (y/n) was always nervous during interviews, but this one seemed to tweak her in the wrong way. She had been picking at her fingers, one of the first tells that she was nervous. She didn't really like this interviewer. They were getting oddly personal. She was sure they didn't mean to, but something about them just threw her off.
Minho took a deep breath. He gently nudged her ankle with his foot, trying to get her to stop picking. She kinda just gave a closed lipped smile to him and looked back forward. She hadn't gotten the memo.. She continued to pick at her fingertips.
"So, (y/n)! How did you like this new concept? You seemed to really enjoy the outfits this comeback." The man read from his card before placing it his lap. (y/n) gave a small smile, nodding. "I loved this new concept! I think it brought a-" She was cut off as a loud crash interrupted her. She was quick to cover her ears.
Small pants shook her body as she looked down. One of the studio lights had fallen over. The other members were startled, but (y/n) was thrown off completely. Minho was quick to gently place a hand on her knee, trying to comfort her the best he could. He looked up to the staff, about to ask for a break, but they were told to keep going with the interview. They had fixed the light, and readjusted the cameras so they could continue.
(y/n) let out a shaky breath as she looked back up. Luckily, her question was sort of glanced over now. The focus was moved to Felix, who beamed as he spoke about the fun filming process. (y/n) was fidgeting worse than she had been before. She was scratching at the back of her hand. She was chewing at her lip. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her members and the staff. She just wanted to be done already. She was about to snap.
Minho could tell. He knew that she had issues with interviews in the first place, but the loud noise did not help. He could see it. In the way she rocked back and forth, or the way she scratched and bit at her skin. He was trying to get her to stop the best he could without drawing attention to her.
It felt like ages before the interview finally ended. (y/n) had never gotten up faster. She didn't even allow staff to take off her mic. She rushed away from the others and into a secluded part of the studio. She couldn't breathe. She was hot. Her vision was growing fuzzy. She crouched down, hugging her head to her knees as she tried to calm down. "Not now.. Not here.." She trembled quietly to herself.
Minho tried to rush after her but was stopped by staff. "I have to help her," He tried, but he was waved off. "She just needs air. I need your equipment." The staff said, moving behind him to start unhooking the microphone from his belt. Minho shrugged him off. "You can get it in a second! There's others you can tend to!" He said harshly, rushing over to where he saw (y/n) rush off too.
Minho crouched down to her, gently pulling her hands away from her head. He hated the way she would always tug at her beautiful hair.. He held her wrists in one hand and gently grabbed her chin with the other. "(y/n), I need you to look at me." He said. He already knew what was happening. The first few times this happened, he was clueless on what to do. But after a few times, he learned what she needed and what she didn't. He knew how to take care of her, and he would in every way he could.
(y/n) slowly looked up. her eyes were fuzzy, her head was heavy. her lips were numb from hyperventilating. "Min-Min- I ca-can't brea-breathe!" She sobbed. She tugged her hands away from his grip and gripped onto her chest, as if trying to pull away the burning that consumed her lungs. "It hurts!" She cried. She was tugging at her top, the long sleeve no help to her right now.
Minho took a deep breath, glancing back to where the other members were. He noticed a few of them looking over with concerning glances. He made a motion for drinking, hoping they would get the hint and bring him water. He turned back to (y/n), gently grabbing her hands again. "I need you to breathe with me, okay?" He tried. The woman shook her head. "I can't! It-It's- I'm too hot-!" She sobbed.
Minho shook his head. He hated being stern with her, but he knew that that's what she needed right now. "(y/n), yes you can. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out." He said. "Do it with me, okay?" He nodded, slowly starting to do the breathing with her. (y/n) stared at him through her teary eyes. She again tried tugging her hands away, but this time, Minho knew better and held them slightly tighter. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. Jisung rushed over with two bottles of water. Minho thanked him quietly, motioning for him to set them down.
Jisung did as he was instructed. "Can I help at all?" He mumbled quietly. (y/n) hung her head low, holding her breath. She trusted the others, sure, but not enough to be this close to her while shes like this. She trusted Minho with this stuff only. She held her breath in attempts to try and act like she was calm. Minho was quick to shake his head. "No, sorry, Ji." He mumbled. Jisung waved a gentle hand before he walked away quickly. (y/n) gasped for air, sobbing out.
She yanked her hands away and started scratching at her thighs. "Minho- I-I can't do-do this-" She shook her head, refusing to make eye contact with him. Minho took a deep breath. He figure that this was one of her times where she didn't wanna be touched. He nodded a little. "Yes, you can, jagi." He whispered. "I need you to stop scratching." He said sternly. "Sit on your hands, remember?" He said, slipping his own hands bellow his thighs and holding them down.
(y/n) looked at him nervously. She stared at his hands bellow his thighs. She clenched her jaw. She slowly moved to sit on top of her hands. She sobbed out, the uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something with her hands unbearable. "You're doing so good, jagi. Now keep breathing for me." Minho said, starting her with a few breaths. While she breathed, he moved to open one of the water bottles. He held it forward, helping her drink. She hummed once she was done, and he pulled the water away.
(y/n)'s body still trembled. Tears were dried to her cheeks, her makeup smeared and ruined. Her body was still hot and tingly. Now was just the uncomfortable stage.. Cooling down after working herself up. She looked at Minho with timid eyes. "It hurts," She whimpered. Minho nodded softly. "I know, I know." He hushed. He made no move to touch her yet, in case she wasn't ready.
After a few minutes she was. She slowly uncurled from herself and hid herself in Minhos chest. Minho wrapped his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. "You did so good, jagiya." He praised quietly. (y/n) closed her eyes, shaking her head softly. "I was so.. So dramatic." She hiccupped. She had those small hiccups you get after working yourself up so much. She held her hands tightly together, trying to keep from ringing her fingers together. She let out a shaky breath.
Minho hummed and shook his head. "You weren't dramatic at all, (y/n)." He said. "You know better than to say stuff like that after you have a moment like that." He added. He was trying to get her to be better about not criticizing herself after having a panic attack or anything of the sorts. He gently moved to look at her. "Can we talk about what set you off?" He asked. "Can we get home first?" The woman asked quietly. Minho nodded. "Of course. Lets get your equipment off and lets get you home." He said, kissing her head softly.
So thats what they did. He helped her over to the staff, helping keep her stable, since her legs were still jelly. He helped get her makeup off, having stolen a few makeup wipes from the stylists. He gathered his stuff as well as hers, carrying it out to the cars that would be taking them home. (y/n) ended up falling asleep against the window. Minho let her sleep, knowing how exhausted she got.
Once they got to the dorms, he woke her gently, helping her out of the car and walking with her up to the dorms, which luckily they shared. She was so tired. She trudged to bed after kicking off her shoes. She had changed into some comfortable clothes, sitting slumped in her bed. She was always so tired and done after a panic attack. It took so much out of her, all she wanted to do was sink into her bed and never wake up.
Minho had told her to give him a second while he made her tea and changed his clothes. He at least got his clothes changed.. By time he went in to check on her to see what tea she wanted, she was falling asleep sitting up. He sighed. He was glad he didn't turn the kettle on.. He went around, turning off the lights before heading to her room. "Jagiya, hey," He gently rubbed her shoulder.
(y/n) jumped a little bit, whining as she looked up at Minho. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry.. I was trying not to fall asleep.." She grumbled. She yawned softly, covering her mouth. "You're okay, (y/n). I know you're tired." Minho said. "Before you sleep though.. I do wanna talk about what set you off today." He took a deep breath, sitting next to her. The woman whined and covered her face with the paws of her hoodie sleeves. "I don't want to! I'm tired, and it was stupid!" She whined into her hands.
Minho pried her hands away from her face and held them gently. "You know you'll feel better if you talk about it." He said with a small shrug. She squinted at him, knowing that he was right. She sighed. "I've just been off all month.. There were too many people in that studio. it was cramped." She shrugged. "Then the freaking light, it pushed me over the edge. I really thought I was gonna be able to go a day without freaking otu, Min." She frowned, looking down. Minho hummed. "But that doesn't mean theres not other days you can't beat, jagiya." He said, giving her a small smile.
"This is just one bad day. Tomorrow will be better." He gently tucked her messy hair behind her ear. "Its okay to have a bad day." He said softly. (y/n) slowly nodded. She let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Min." She said quietly. Another yawn slipped past her lips. "Will you sleep with me tonight?" She asked sheepishly. Minho chuckled softly. "You mean like I have been for the past week?" He teased. (y/n) rolled her eyes jokingly, a small smile cracking her lips. "Yes, like you have for the past week." She giggled softly.
Minho hummed and nodded softly. "Yeah, sure, jagi," He chuckled. He laid down, gently getting under her blankets and opening them for her. (y/n) cuddled under the sheets, cuddling into Minhos chest. "Thank you, Min." She whispered. "Mm, no need to thank me." Minho said as he reached over to turn her lamp off. "I love you.." She mumbled sleepily. Minho chuckled softly and kissed her head. "I love you too, jagi." He yawned as he wrapped his arms around her, soon falling asleep after her.
#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fluff#stray kids comfort#stray kids angst#skz fanfic#skz fluff#skz comfort#stray kids minho#stray kids lee know#stray kids lee minho#skz minho#skz lee know#skz lee minho#lee know fluff#lee know comfort#lee know angst#lee know#lee minho#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x 9th member#stray kids 9th member#stray kids imagines
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Troubleshooting
Summary: After the events of Tantiss, Crosshair finds himself with a cybernetic hand, and he knows a way to test all of its capabilities.
Word count: 2k
Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader
Tags: Established relationship, Fingering, Dirty talk, Cybernetics.
“There,” Tech hums as he shuts the panel over Crosshair’s wrist, securing the instalment. “Give it a try,” he urges, and sits back to watch Crosshair test his new hand.
After the fall of Tantiss, it took Crosshair quite some time to realise what had actually happened. He lost his hand - his shooting hand, at that. Sure, he’s great with his left, but two hands are always better than one, especially if you’re missing your dominant hand.
Given that Echo opted not to have a robot hand installed, it left a spare on the Marauder - an item that everybody had forgotten about, lost in storage, only for it to finally come into use during an unfortunate turn of events.
Of course, you love Crosshair regardless. Hand or not, he’s still your man, and you’ll do everything in your power to support him. That’s why, during pillow talk a week after the event, Crosshair brought up the idea of getting on installed.
“I feel… incomplete,” he explained. He rambled on about his lack of uses, now that he’s missing a hand, and you had to remind him that he is no longer a soldier, and that he can find his new path in life. “Well, it’s difficult to become a fisherman with only one hand,” Crosshair sarcastically responded, earning a laugh from you.
That brings you to today. Tech was more than happy to install it for Crosshair, babbling about how he’s “always excited to work on cybernetic enhancements,” which would explain why Tech is always questioning if Echo needs any repairs.
Crosshair attempts to flex each of his fingers, the joints surprisingly moving with ease, causing Crosshair’s brows to lift in surprise. “Oh,” he mutters under his breath, now stretching his hand out, wiggling and adjusting each digit in every possible manner.
“Your tendons seem to be aligned, but we need to test your agility,” Tech comments.
You sit back and watch the two sync up. Tech gives Crosshair a few simple tasks - playing catch, writing, even tying his shoelaces. A few minor adjustments are made, but eventually, Crosshair decides he’s more than content.
“You know where to find me if you require any alternations,” Tech states as he rises from his seat, eager to head off - not out of impoliteness, but it’s date night, and Tech would never dream of being late for such an occasion.
Crosshair thanks his brother one final time before seeing him out, yourself saying goodbye whilst on the comfort of your sofa. The front door shuts, and Crosshair makes his way over to you, finding his place by your side.
“So,” he drags the word out. “What do you think?” He asks, wiggling his new hand in front of your face.
“It suits you,” you nod, admiring the black chrome. What other colour would Crosshair go for?
“Mhm,” Crosshair nods in agreement. He can’t help but introduce his new hand to yours, entwining your fingertips for the first time. To your surprise, the durasteel is nowhere near as cold as you expected it to be, and each finger is smooth and rounded - no sharp edges or bumps.
Crosshair’s eyes wander over the sight, your hand interlinked with his, something that he’ll never get tired of. “What does it feel like?” he questions, gesturing to the physical contact.
“Like I’m holding a robotic hand,” you reply. Ah, Crosshair is reminded why he fell for you; you match his wit and sarcasm in every way, perhaps more than he can bargain for.
A long sign escapes Crosshair’s lips as his eyes meet yours, disappointment deep within them. “Shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s a smile on his lips.
You let out a cheery hum, matching his smile. A kiss naturally follows, tender pecks on the lips, yet there’s lust within them. Nothing intimate has happened since Tantiss, minus kisses, cuddles, and crying together. You can tell that Crosshair’s confidence is growing with his new image, but is this happening too soon? Doesn’t he need time to adjust first?
In between kisses, Crosshair begins mumbling against your lips. “You love me, right?” he questions.
“Is now the time for reassurance?” you bite back, causing Crosshair to chuckle.
“Just answer the question,” he coos, then places another kiss on your lips.
“Of course, I do,” you confirm.
“And you’d do anything for me, right?”
You softly hum. “Only if you’d do the same for me,” you reply.
“I would,” Crosshair replies without missing a beat, no longer bothering with feather-light kisses. Instead, he’s pouncing on you, allowing lust and desire to drive his intentions. You find yourself lying back on the sofa, legs a tangled mess with your lovers, who is looming over you like a predator teasing its prey.
Among the smooches, tugs appear on your waistband. Crosshair is unbuttoning your pants, and as much as you want him, you’re concerned about his timing. Is this really what he needs after taking such a large step in his recovery? Has his new hand even finished installing?
“Cross-” you mutter against his lips.
“Mhm?” Crosshair pulls his lips away, although his hands don’t give up. He’s pulling each trouser leg off, yanking them over your ankles with frustration - something that he always struggled with.
“Are you sure that this is what you need right now?” You question, concern strong within your tone.
Crosshair picks up on it, and comes to a halt, resting his hands on your plush hips. “It is,” he confirms within an instant. “I need to… test it out…” he explains, raising his robotic hand up to your face. “…and I know just the way to do it.”
If Crosshair is comfortable, then you’re comfortable. And hey, there’s no harm in helping him adjust to his new attachment. If this is how he wants to adjust, then why not?
Sloppy kisses are in full swing yet again, all whilst Crosshair is putting his new hand to good use. Sold fingertips find their way to your clothed mound, trailing back and forth. His pressure changes, testing the waters, finding the balance between firm and soft, and Crosshair knows he’s found it when you let out a whimper.
“There we go,” he sighs, his cock stirring from such a small sound. Before you can reply, Crosshair has his lips back on yours, silencing you whilst his fingers do all the work.
A hook on your waistband, and your panties are being pulled from your hips, thrown across the room to be forgotten about. Firmness appears on your clit, a single digit, rediscovering your body all over again. Crosshair needs to start from scratch, following each step with the understanding that this is all new to both you, and him. Every move, the different levels of pressure, are all things that will take time to adjust to.
“A little firmer,” you comment, and Crosshair complies, ensuring that his touch is just how you like it. He’s circling your clit, causing stars to appear in your line of vision - a blacked out state in between kisses.
Crosshair has to break the kiss to bury his head into the curve of your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline. All the while, his fingertips begin to slip lower, soon testing the waters. A single finger slips into you, firmer than ever. Again, it’s not cold - far from it, yet the sensation is alien. You’ve never had a… robotic finger slip inside you before, crossing off a new box on your list.
“How is it?” Crosshair questions the second that he’s knuckle deep within you. His concern is warranted, although you know he’s also subtly asking for validation.
“Good,” you reply without missing a beat. “Firm and… new, but good.”
“You sure?” he double-checks, to which you agree with a simple, “yeah.”
“You know that, if I have any issues, I’ll tell you,” you inform him. He already knows this - he’s heard it a million times over - but it doesn’t hurt to remind him, especially during a time like this.
“I know,” Crosshair mumbles, his lips still pressed to your throat. “I wish I could still feel you,” he confesses. Only now do you realise the lack of nerves that Crosshair has in his new hand. He can’t feel anything, can he? Not your wetness, or your muscles tensing around him. Nothing.
“I guess we’ll need to train you up on your other hand,” you lighten the mood, not wanting Crosshair to wander into dark thoughts during such an intimate moment. That is a conversation for pillow talk.
“Hm, more opportunities to see you like this,” he purrs, thankfully agreeing with your plan.
Kicking things up a notch, Crosshair begins to work his finger, using a rhythm that he knows works for you. Your hands begin to wander his body, caressing each part of him, especially the growing bulge within his pants.
Your fingertips begin to dance over his buttons, but Crosshair moves your attention away. “Wait-” he stutters, his free hand redirecting your hand to his hips. “This is about testing my hand, alright?”
You can’t help but let out a laugh. “Whatever you say, dear.”
On that note, Crosshair slips another finger inside of you, hushing you within an instant. “Don’t believe me, hm?” he hums, yet you’re failing for words as Crosshair curls his fingers upwards, the firm digits pressing against that spot within you.
In the midst of your lust and admiration, you don’t realise the minor differences to his new hand. Sure, it’s firmer, and in some ways, less intimate, but it’s still him - a new part of him that both of you need to get used to, and what a way to break the ice.
The sound of squelching fills the air, and you can feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure takes over. Crosshair picks at the opportunity to continue his attack on your neck, leaving the first of many hickeys to assert his claim on you. (Perhaps to warn the new clones that you’re already taken?)
You catch yourself muttering his name, over and over, a mix between a chant and a prayer. By now, Crosshair has his clothed, yet erect cock pressed to your inner thigh, rutting against it with every flick of his wrist. He’s so desperate for your touch, yet he refuses to allow his focus to stray from you - or from ‘testing his new hand,’ as he so put it.
“Kriff-” you curse. Allowing your eyes to open, you lock your gaze with your lover, who looks as blissed out as you do. “Cross, you know that… I’m…”
“I know,” he cuts you off. “All over my finger, please. If you’d be so kind,” he replies, wit laced within his words, as always.
The sensation of orgasming around solid digits is one that you’ll have to get used to, yet it’s nothing but pleasurable. Strange, certainly. But far from negative. Crosshair is almost panting as hard as you are, crashing his lips with yours as he continues rutting against you. During the kisses, you reach down to palm over his cock, and finally, he allows you to get a good feel.
“You need some attention,” you comment. Crosshair chuckles, but the laugher is yanked from his lips as you grasp the upper hand, finding a way to flip your positions. You’re now straddling his lap, nude from the waist downwards, whilst Crosshair is fully clothed, (with a soaking wet hand.)
Crosshair grins, oh-so-eager to not only show you some love, but spend the evening getting all of your frustrations out. Oh, all whilst testing his new hand, because that is what this is really about.
There’s desperation within Crosshair’s grasp as he begins unbuckling his pants, eager to start receiving some of his own relief. “Who do you think will wear out first?” you question, your lips against his. “You? Me? Or your hand?”
Starstruck eyes meet yours. Of course, only you could crack a little joke during the heat of things - Crosshair fell for you for a reason, after all.
“I guess we’ll just have to find out,” he bites back.
“You’re on.”
#tbbwriting#the bad batch#tbb spoilers#tbb#tbb crosshair#f!reader#reader insert#smut#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader#female reader#nsft#s3 crosshair
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rain and kisses | yoon jeonghan
“Honey, get away from the widow. You’ll get sick.”
Doing the exact opposite, you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself and stepped closer to the open bedroom windows. You inhaled the fresh scent of rain, feeling some small droplets falling onto your face with a cold touch.
“Why won’t you ever listen to me,” Jeonghan sighed, standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you shifted your gaze from the rainstorm to turn around and look at another miracle that was your boyfriend.
You took one of his palms and kissed it gently, running a thumb over the soft skin of his hand. This was your little sign to show him how much you appreciated him being there with you, even though you knew how easily cold he got. but he couldn’t resist, seeing how mesmerized you were by the rain, almost as if you were in a trance. He was sure that if he got to see your eyes, they would be shining with curiosity and the softest expression would adorn your face.
Without hesitation, Jeonghan joined you to look at the night sky filled with dark clouds and pouring rain.
“You should get away from the window Hannie. You’ll get cold,” you said softly, dropping the blanket from your shoulders to put it over his. You made sure that he was properly wrapped up, before turning around to the rainfall that was going on outside.
Thoughts were flying through your head, but for the first time in a while, they didn’t feel overwhelming. Your mind was drifting from one memory to another of the last weekend that you got to spend at a getaway with Jeonghan.
Distracted by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the warm feeling enveloping you, simultaneously sheltering you from the wind blowing through the window.
Only when you felt two familiar arms pulling you by your waist to a body as warm as the sun, did your attention land on the blanket surrounding your body once again.
“Can’t let you freeze,” he whispered and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose. Unconsciously, you leaned into his touch, putting your hands over his warm ones, and allowed your head to rest in the crook of his neck.
If anyone had ever asked you to describe your safe space, this is what you’d describe.
You, in Jeonghan’s arms, who, despite disliking the cold is standing there with you, wrapped tightly in a blanket together, holding each other close.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you murmured, nuzzling your head further into Jeonghan’s neck, inhaling his soft scent that always brought some sort of peace and comfort to you.
“And I wish we could stay forever like this,” he said, putting his hand on your cold cheek, tilting your face to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#svt reactions#seventeen x you#seventeen reactions#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan svt#jeonghan seventeen#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan recs#jeonghan fluff#svt jeonghan#jeonghan#seventeen reaction#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenarios
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⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.
—PART THREE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Notes: Lucifer and [y/n] will see each other again next chapter 👁️👁️
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | MISC.
A lot of timeskip...
[Y/n] sat in her office chair. Bored out of her mind. Hand fluidly moved in motion as she signed her signature in each document. Paper works. So much paperwork. Just because she finished her duties on the mortal realm for this week doesn't mean she doesn't have work to do back in heaven. She needs to do countless paperwork. Writing down every detail of what happened during her time on earth.
She groaned, placing down her pen on to the table. Throwing her head back lazily against the comfort of her chair.
It has been years since Lucifer's fall. Years after the meeting he asked for that concern about his hotel to redeem sinners.
Thinking back about it. She regrets the harsh words she has said to him during that meeting. Rather too cold for her liking.
She can't blame past her either. She was mad at Lucifer, who wouldn't?
Your best friend stopped spending time with you as he spent most of his time learning about the newly made humans God created.
And once he got the time to spend with her, he always talked about the mortal woman that God has created.
It was very annoying.
Then suddenly, he did what she warned him. Giving the fruit of knowledge to Eve that caused his fall from grace.
[Y/n] loved him, she still does.
She was mad that Lucifer neglected her. She was mad that an angel as beautiful as Lucifer chose a mortal woman.
She was... Jealous.
Now, she heard he has a family now.
She sighs, eyes looking down on her hand. The wedding ring she used to wear is now on her middle finger. She and Azrael are still married to each other platonically for shits and giggles.
They still loved each other platonically. Often having sleepovers at each other's houses.
She wondered, Azrael is such a great man. Everything she'll ever need in one. Smart, funny, sarcastic, intelligent, incredibly handsome, and loving.
It's truly unfortunate her heart lies within another.
She sighs softly. She's been doing that often lately.
As she was about to continue working, the door to her office bursts open and her ex-husband flamboyantly announced his grand entrance.
“Wifeyyy, I have tea to share. I know you'll be interested.” Azrael asked, [y/n] had to look up as the man was literally taller than her. His slicked back black hair shined against the chandelier lights. His eyes are half-lidded—showing off the golden eyeshadow he's wearing, a smirk on his mischievously attractive face. Pulling back a chair across her desk, he sat down.
[Y/n] raised an eyebrow at him, curious what gossip he has to share this time.
“What is it?” she asked lacing her hands and placing her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her knuckles.
Azrael smirked, playing with his staff.
“Luci has a family right?” he asked and [y/n] just looked at him with curiosity. Surprised that Azrael brought the topic of the fallen angel up.
“Yes, what about it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the angel in front of her.
“I heard his daughter is coming up here for a meeting, Morningstar's daughter wanted to propose an idea to... Redeem sinners. Reminds me of Lucifer.” Azrael says with a smirk and small chuckle.
“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.” [y/n] says with a small shrug. She wondered if Lucifer's daughter would propose the same idea like his.
“Indeed. So, are you going to attend the meeting? I heard Sera is handling it this time. Lucifer's daughter sure is lucky she won't be having a meeting with the seven.” Azrael says with a smirk before pouting a little.
“When will it be?” [y/n] asked, picking up her pen once more as she resumed working.
“In two days.” Azrael says with a shrug.
“Unfortunately I have work, all seven of us do.” [y/n] says with a shrug, a bored tone in her voice.
Azrael sighed and nodded, “Unfortunately, but... We can still attend but not physically. Eavesdropping as what others call it.” Azrael says with a grin, snapping his fingers and two eyeballs with wings appeared out of nowhere.
“We can use these. Both of us can have an eye.” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him with a raised eyebrow, curious why this man is so interested in listening to a meeting that is probably a repeat of history.
“I can see that look in your eyes that you're wondering why I'm so eager to listen to this meeting. I have a feeling that something will be revealed during this meeting and I am curious to what it is. My instincts are never wrong.” Azrael says, eyes staring outside [y/n]'s window. He has a feeling that the Seraphims are hiding something and he wants to uncover that.
“A secret?” [y/n] asked, curiosity piqued.
“Yes, I have a feeling that the seraphims are hiding something and that is a no-no especially if a high seraphim is hiding something.” Azrael says, his voice becoming serious. [Y/n] looked at him, her eyes narrowed at the possibility. The seven virtues are barely in heaven and that means the seraphims are in charge of the order up here. Lately, Sera has been acting strange but they just dismissed it thinking it was nothing. Now that Azrael mentioned it, they need to find out the truth.
“I assume we don't need to tell them we'll be attending the meeting then?” [y/n] asked and Azrael smirked and nodded.
It was finally the day where Lucifer's daughter would visit heaven for a meeting. [Y/n] sat on her couch in the comfort of her home, a third eye on her forehead. It means her consciousness is connected to the flying eyeball Azrael allowed her to use. It is currently the courtroom, hiding from plain sight.
Lucifer's daughter is really a copy of the said fallen angel. Same ideals too.
The meeting seems to be a bore, Charlie as what she learned the girl's name is, just proposed the same idea Lucifer proposed years ago.
The meeting was nothing but boring, annoying as she has to listen to Adam and Lute.
[Y/n] is still confused why that is in heaven and why he's being favored. The man is literally a walking asshole with a shit personality.
Azrael is probably in the same boat as her but he's back on earth doing his duties while simultaneously listening to this meeting.
The seven does not like Adam very much. Adam is too privileged.
Though, her views on the hotel changed as Charlie showed the progress of her guest, a demon named Angel Dust. Perhaps this silly hotel might actually work.
[Y/n] was about to stop listening and watching the meeting when Adam said something that caught her interest. Something that made her heart drop.
Exterminate... Extermination...
Of human souls.
Based on the reactions of other angels in the court, it was only Sera, Adam, Lute and other exorcists who knew about it.
Demon or not angels have no reason for doing this.
She's pissed and she could feel Azrael's annoyance from the eye she was using.
Who gave Sera the right to play God?
And the fact she didn't let the seven know about it is inexcusable.
The meeting ended and the two eyeballs remained hidden, eavesdropping on Emily and Sera.
So she's doing this because the demons were uprising?
Didn't they like to took care of it years ago? This just showed that Sera has no belief that heaven can handle a mere uprising of demons.
If the seven wanted to they could wipe out the entirety of hell. But no, there's no need for that. They have far more important matters to deal with such as trying to minimize the evil slowly growing on earth.
Hell couldn't steal heaven, they'd be dead before they could even enter the gates.
The third eye on [y/n]'s forehead closes and disappears. The others needed to know about this.
The others were concerned about this, angry even. Heaven does not need to do this yearly cleansing but apparently it has been happening for a few years already. So many human souls are killed by the hands of angels.
The seven talked about this with their creator and of course, he didn't listen to their concerns about this. Though, he did promise that if a soul is actually redeemed then the cleansing isn't necessary and Sera would be placed on trial as the seraphim didn't tell the seven nor god about this decision. The seven virtues didn't tell Sera they knew and just continued doing their duties. They trust their creator, based on his voice. He knew something that they don't.
[Y/n] has a feeling that this silly hotel might even work and she can't wait to finally put Adam, the exorcists, and Sera back to their place. To remind them where their power lies within the heavenly ranks.
TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata
#hazbin hotel#lxkeee answers#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lxkeee updates#lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel x reader#i love Azrael so much
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Healing You
Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: description of an injury & fluff that might rot your teeth
Request:
Can I re request properly for a Regina x reader where there’s loads of hurt/comfort and Regina’s back problems because the bus can be a part of it. Thank you so so much
Mean Girls requests are open.
When Regina George sent a text to her girlfriend that she was in desperate need of a back massage, (Y/n) made sure to pack all of her essential oils. Regina had finally lost her corrective neck collar but still had severe back pain due to the bus accident. Anytime she needed a massage, (Y/n) was there with essential oils and what could be a new career as a masseuse. Or, at least, that was what Regina deemed as (Y/n) gently rubbed out the knots that had formed down Regina's back. Regina wasn't sure if she was tearing up at how much pain she was in, or if she was tearing up because it felt so good.
(Y/n) gently kissed the back of her head as tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes shut as her chin rested on top of the pillows gently. "What's wrong, princess?" (Y/n) asked as her thumbs gently rolled over her skin carefully. She made sure to work hard at the deep knots but to be careful to not further injure the girl. She was always so gentle when massaging Regina, recognizing all of her limits or signs of pain. "Does it hurt? Would you like me to stop?" (Y/n) inquired softly, easing up on her touch. She didn't want to keep massaging Regina if it hurt.
"No, no, please keep going," Regina gasped as (Y/n) fingers got right back to work. Regina wiped some tears away as she thought about all of the words inside her head. "I was just thinking of how I wasn't a good friend to Gretchen, Karen, or Cady. Nor was I always nice to you. And, I'm sorry. I know I don't use that word very often, but I genuinely mean it. I'm sorry I wasn't a good girlfriend, (Y/n)."
The notion rendered (Y/n) speechless as she took in Regina's words. Her fingers slowed to a stop as she lay next to Regina, gently nudging her so that she could meet Regina's ice-blue eyes. "You were never a bad girlfriend. Neither of us is perfect, but that doesn't make us bad. If you were ever mean to me, we talked it through. I am happy and content with you. I think an apology could go a long way with the girls, especially Gretchen, but you were never a bad girlfriend to me." (Y/n) whispered, letting her know that this growth was okay and normal to go through.
Regina nodded before leaning over to kiss (Y/n), who responded quickly, kissing her back. (Y/n) smiled on Regina's lips, glad to have brought her comfort in what seemed to be her hour of need. Gently pulling away, (Y/n) placed another kiss on Regina's nose and the other on her forehead. "Do you want me to keep massaging you, or would you like to take a nap? I could wake you up when it's time for your pain medication." Everything was on a schedule for Regina. Normally, (Y/n) would get calls and texts asking for massages around this time because it was when her medicine would be wearing off and she would need more.
Regina smiled as she thought for a moment. "Would it be wrong to ask for both? I could really take a good nap as you massaged me. When I fall asleep, you could also hold me." Regina offered as she tried to bribe (Y/n) into something she already knew she was going to do. (Y/n) moved to continue her massage, agreeing to Regina's offer easily. She didn't need Regina to bribe her with cuddles in order for her to massage Regina as she fell asleep.
It wasn't long before Regina's soft snores were heard, and (Y/n) stopped herself from massaging Regina's back. Sneaking off the bed, she made her way to Regina's bathroom as she washed her hands from the essential oils she had on her hands. Returning, she was happy to see Regina still asleep. (Y/n) laid in bed as she gently cuddled up to the girl, holding her close as she set an alarm. She wanted to make sure that Regina received her medicine.
The alarm's beeping woke (Y/n) up from her dozing as she pulled away from Regina, who groaned in protest. Retrieving the medicine, she gave Regina her water jug to take it. "Why do you stay here and help me so much (Y/n)? I really appreciate it, but don't you have other things to do? I don't want to be a burden." If there was anything that had changed about Regina since the bus accident, it was her speaking up about insecurities. And ever since (Y/n) had been coming over to help her, Regina constantly checked to make sure she wasn't being a burden or keeping (Y/n) from something.
"Healing you is very important to me, Regina. It's why I make sure you get proper rest to heal. I learned how to do massages, and what essential oils are the best, and I would do all of that again if you ever needed me to. I love you, and I will always take care of you whenever you need me to." (Y/n) said softly before sitting next to Regina and taking the water bottle back to sit on the nightstand. "It's what partners do. They take care of each other."
Regina smiled over at her, more comfortable and less insecure. "I love you, too. Thank you for all you have been doing to help me (Y/n). Your support and care have meant the absolute world to me." Regina admitted, laying down and motioning over at (Y/n) to join her. (Y/n) accepted the invitation happily before snuggling up to her girlfriend and pulling her into her arms carefully. She would always be there for Regina, no matter what, and she knew that Regina would do the same for her, too.
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So I loved the way you wrote Buck with his scars! My heart was breaking! Could you maybe write one where he hates them and the reader comforts them and kisses his scars?
hi, sugar! 🥰 I am trying to write these requests chronologically but I couldn't wait to write this one, especially after seeing today's episode because domestic Buck is something I just NEED 😍 I added a whole plot around it, so you can also expect some of jealous Gale 👀 basically, his wife befriended some man when he was away and now he's jealous and insecure that he's not so handsome anymore lol like it's even possible
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
Buck stepped on the stool to take off the last of the Welcome Home signs as his wife stood below with her hand gently put on his thigh, making sure he wouldn’t fall. She didn’t want to miss any opportunity to touch him ever since he had come back.
Buck smiled to himself. It still felt odd to be back home and to be around his wife’s comforting presence, surrounded by her love and affection.
He furrowed his brows at the ceiling’s colour, though. It was oddly snow white and he remembered that it had been needing a renovation when they had moved in a few weeks before his departure to Europe.
“The ceiling’s been painted,” he pointed out as he handed his wife the paper sign and she took it from him to put it away.
“Yes. Ritchie’s done it,” she answered casually.
Buck froze for a second before stepping down from the stool and taking a better look at his wife. She didn’t look as if she was hiding some secret, though.
“Who is Ritchie?” He tried to remain cool. He had no right to be jealous. He didn’t want to be one of those husbands who didn’t want their wives to have any male friends.
Still, he was jealous.
“Oh, Ritchie, he’s just a… Just a friend, I mean…” (Y/N) chuckled and he could see her eyes sparkling. Buck’s jaw clenched at that reaction. “He’s a doctor, a local doctor, you know.”
“Do I know him?” Buck asked, trying to remember if he had known any Ritchies.
“No, no, honey, he was sent here when you had been… away,” she sighed. “I met him at the party…” (Y/N) got nervous explaining and Buck furrowed his brows at her. “I didn’t want to go, my friends forced me, I swear, Buck. It gave me no pleasure to dance and have fun knowing that you were… at some camp, I…” She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears.
“Shh,” Buck put his arms around her and brought her closer to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I hoped you would go out sometimes and have fun. I never wanted you to sit at home alone and cry all day and night. I hoped you’d know that, baby.”
“I know… Well, Ritchie was there. He wasn’t sent to Europe because we need doctors here, too,” (Y/N) sniffed her tears back and looked up at her husband. “He offered me help around the house. He painted the ceiling and took care of that spare room that might be a nursery one day… He fixed the drain and helped to mow the grass. You know, that sort of stuff,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t know what I’d do without him, Buck. And he did that all for free!”
“For free, you say?” Buck raised an eyebrow. She looked so sweet and innocent, he didn’t want to accuse her of anything but he didn’t trust other men as much as he trusted his girl.
“Completely!” She assured him and nodded her head. “I wanted to pay him, I really did. But he told me that my husband was serving the country and it was his duty to help. He’s a sweetheart, really, Buck,” she tried to convince her husband. “In fact,” (Y/N) took a step back and smiled, “I think you should meet him. I think you’ll adore him! And you should thank him, too.”
“Thank him?” Buck asked, surprised. Perhaps she was right. He should. After all, that man had helped his wife enormously. But the ugly jealousy was too overwhelming.
“Of course!” (Y/N) gave him a scolding look. “Don’t you think he deserves to be thanked? Let me call him! I’ll invite him for dinner. He’s usually free on Sundays,” she ran to the telephone.
Buck only watched as she excitedly dialled the number she had memorised by heart. After a short while, someone on the other side of the line picked up and she smiled widely.
“Hey-ho, Ritchie, darling!” She started and Buck chewed on the inside of his cheek. He leaned on the wall, trying to look cool about it but he was exploding inside. “I was thinking that perhaps you’d join us for dinner tonight? I’d make that lasagna you like so much!” (Y/N) told her friend.
Buck tried not to look surprised that the mysterious Ritchie had his favourite dish already.
The truth was, Buck didn’t have any favourite dish (Y/N) made. And he hadn’t done much around this house before his departure either. They had gotten married two months before. He had been away for more than a year. That Ritchie guy had spent more time with his wife than he had. And it was killing him inside to realise that.
His wife had been everything that made his will to survive so strong. To see her again, to smell her, to touch her, to hear her laugh. She had saved him hundreds of times without even realising. And of course, as he had said to her, he hadn’t wanted her to spend all her days crying after him. But it still stinged his heart that she had some gentleman friend around. Cooking for him, renovating the house together, God-only-knows what else…
“Oh, no, you won’t be a bother!” (Y/N) shook her head to the receiver. “Buck wants to meet you and thank you for everything,” she turned around to smile at her husband. “Well, in two hours perhaps? Great!”
She put the receiver down and approached Buck to hug him and kiss his cheek.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me again… It feels so surreal,” she admitted.
He only hugged her closer, trying not to say anything. All he could feel was jealousy and he didn’t want to open his mouth and accidentally hurt her with his words.
Doctor Ritchie Nelson was older than Buck had expected – around 40. And much more handsome, too. Buck had naively hoped it would be some senior man living down the street or something like that. But no, he looked like a fucking actor. He had shiny black hair and bright blue eyes. He was a few inches taller and his clothes were very elegant.
Buck shook his hand to greet him when he opened the door.
“Major,” Ritchie saluted and then he gave Buck the most wonderful smile. Buck swallowed thickly.
Fuck me, he thought.
“Just call me Buck, doc,” he only said.
“And you call me Ritchie, son,” Ritchie walked inside as if the house had been his.
Buck closed the door behind him. He didn’t like being called son by that man even if he was older. But he didn’t want to start an argument and make his wife sad. She seemed to be very excited about the two of them finally meeting.
“(Y/N)’s in the kitchen now. She will serve the food in a moment. Follow me,” Buck headed to the dining room, painfully realising how stupid his words must have sounded. Of course Ritchie knew where to go.
But Ritchie didn’t say anything to that and took his place by the table.
“Hello, (Y/N)!” He raised his voice in the kitchen’s direction.
“Hello, sweetheart!” (Y/N) greeted him back and Buck took a seat across the table so he could face the man.
Before he could open his mouth to ask about something, his wife went inside with the plates. She put the food on the table and joined them, sitting right in between.
“So, your wife told me that you went down over Bremen,” Ritchie started so naturally. He had to be born with this charm and charisma. “That was hell of a mission, I’ve heard on the radio.”
“Oh, Ritchie, let’s not talk about the war, can we?” (Y/N) batted her eyelashes at him. “Please,” she laid her eyes on her husband and Buck nodded at her.
He also didn’t want to talk about the war. Especially with a man who had not been there.
“Of course,” Ritchie cleared his throat.
“I’d rather listen to your stories,” Buck told him. “What did I miss ‘round town?”
He quickly regretted asking that question. (Y/N) and Ritchie were telling him all sorts of stories and gossip about local women, drunkards, policemen, priests, divorces and marriages, new children getting born... He wouldn’t mind that itself but the way they interacted with each other made his heart sink deep in his chest.
(Y/N) was mostly looking at Ritchie and her eyes were sparkling whenever he said something funny. She would often touch his wrist when she was laughing and they had a ton of inside jokes that Buck didn’t even want to ask about.
“Oh, you tell that story. You tell it the best!” She would say often and then she would interrupt Ritchie all the time to add her own details. But Ritchie didn’t seem to mind.
Buck couldn’t handle it anymore. He stood up suddenly and they looked up at him, questioningly.
“Are you alright, darling?” (Y/N) asked him, worryingly.
“Yes, I just… I want water…” Buck said and she nodded her head.
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass before leaning on the counter and watching his wife still talking to Ritchie. They looked so natural together, so comfortable around each other.
In fact, she looked more relaxed around Ritchie than around Buck. The truth was that things had been awkward between them. When they were alone, they would sit in silence most of the time. And she didn’t look as relaxed as she did now.
Buck clenched his jaw and joined them by the table again, even though he felt as if he was a third wheel.
“Oh, Buck, baby, I forgot to tell you,” (Y/N) grabbed his arm and then she pointed at Ritchie. “Ritchie used to be a model.”
Fucking wonderful, Buck thought. But he pretended to be surprised as he laid his eyes at the other man.
“Oh, please,” Ritchie rolled his eyes and chuckled.
The worst part of Ritchie was that he was not mean. He wasn’t teasing Buck or trying to show off. He really was a nice man... who just happened to have a good relationship with Buck’s wife.
“I mean it! Back in the 30s. He was on the cover of the magazine!” (Y/N) finished the story. “I mean, look at him,” she laid her eyes on Ritchie. “40 this year and face so smooth,” her voice sounded almost dreamy.
Buck moved uncomfortably in his seat. His face was far from smooth now with a few scars scattered on his cheeks. They were not deep but he could see them every time he looked in the mirror. A painful reminder of what he had been through. He would never have a face like Ritchie fucking Nelson. He had already been uncomfortable with the scars but now he hated them.
He took a better look at his wife. God, she was so pretty. So full of life. She deserved someone like her. Not a man broken by the war like him.
“I actually could sign a contract and go to Hollywood,” Ritchie confessed, a little shyly.
“But he chose to refuse and become a doctor,” (Y/N) shook her head and looked at Buck. “Can you believe that? I’d choose Hollywood,” she joked and Ritchie laughed.
Buck forced a chuckle. He couldn’t focus on her words anymore anyway.
“It’s getting late,” Ritchie took a glance at his watch. “I’m opening my cabinet tomorrow in the early morning. I should be going now.”
“Of course,” (Y/N) nodded and stood up to walk him to the front door. Buck remained in the dining room and waited for her to be back.
It took her quite a long time to say goodbye to her friend. He almost stood up himself to check on them but that was when she finally joined him and sat back by that table.
An awkward silence occurred between them.
“Isn’t he lovely?” (Y/N) started as she played with the food on her plate.
“Yes,” Buck nodded. “Damn, I forgot to thank him.”
“It’s alright. He doesn’t really expect that. You can do that next time, too,” she took his hand in hers and caressed it gently.
He hated to see her more stiff and awkward around him than she had been around Ritchie.
“I’ll wash the dishes,” she sighed and stood up, taking the plates from the table.
Buck stood in front of the mirror in the morning and looked at his freshly shaven face. Last night he had a nightmare again and he didn’t get a lot of sleep. His eyes missed the spark he had had before his departure to Europe. They were tired now and sadder, no matter how much he tried to be the same man as before. There were a few new wrinkles on his forehead, too. And those awful scars on his cheeks. His face was definitely not smooth.
“Knock, knock, baby,” (Y/N) opened the door gently. “What is taking you so long? I thought you were shaving,” she smiled softly at him. “I started to worry.”
“I got distracted, sorry,” he reached out for the towel to wipe the remaining shaving cream off of his face but (Y/N) approached him to do it herself.
“Aw, look at you, my handsome husband,” she gave him a warm and loving smile.
He hated that little voice in his head telling him that she had said that out of pity.
“Not anymore,” Buck chuckled nervously and put an aftershave on.
“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows as she stared at his reflection in the mirror.
He only shook his head, scared that he would start crying if he said something now.
“Gale?” She asked softly as she delicately put her hand on his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, look at my face now,” he turned around to face her as his voice trembled.
“I am looking, baby,” she bit on her lower lip and placed her hands on his cheeks to caress them gently with her thumbs. “Do you mean those scars, love?” She asked, nervously.
Buck only nodded as his eyes filled with tears.
“Can I be honest with you, my darling?” She asked and he nodded again. “Well, I didn’t want to mention them when you came back home. I didn’t know if I could, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or sad… But I wanted to tell you…” she hesitated for a moment and his heart skipped a beat.
He expected her to tell him now that they were indeed ugly or making him less attractive. Of course, she would later tell him she loves him despite them and all that jazz. What else would she say?
“I know that they’re on your face because you’ve been hurt and in pain, so I don’t feel good saying this but… Well, I think they make you look even more handsome,” she admitted and Buck’s eyes widened a little. “Am I a bad wife for thinking that?” She asked, nervously. “I’m sorry if I am. But you look so brave, my darling. And so handsome. They make me feel so proud to be your wife when I see them,” she leaned in to place small kisses up and down one of his cheeks and then the other.
“I thought you liked Ritchie’s soft face…” Buck muttered out.
“Wh-what?” (Y/N) took a step back to look deep into his eyes, her hands still caressing his cheeks. “Oh, you’re jealous?”
“Well, how can I not be?” Buck held her wrists gently and moved them out of his face to place soft kisses upon her knuckles. One at the time. “He spent more time with you than me. You’re so comfortable around him. I’m glad you had a friend when I was gone. But I can’t help not to be jealous,” he confessed. “He’s not as broken as me.”
“Gale,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’re the only man for me. I’ve been waiting for you here, each day and night. And those silly scars you’re so bothered about? Goddamit, I was praying to all the gods in the world to bring you back to me, even without arms or legs, so what do they even matter? They’re nothing. I just wanted my husband back with me!” She began to tear up.
“I know,” Buck brought her closer to hug her. “I’m not accusing you of anything, I know.”
“Oh, you’d be an idiot if you accused me,” she chuckled through the tears.
“Why?” He asked and rubbed her back.
“Because Ritchie… He…” She tried to find the right words. “Well, he doesn’t like women, if you know what I mean.”
Oh.
What a burden had just left Buck’s heart. He chuckled out of relief.
“Yeah, I should have… I should have known. There was something about him,” he admitted.
“He’ll be flattered that you thought of him as competition. It means you find him attractive,” (Y/N) giggled and Buck rolled his eyes before hugging her even tighter. “I love you, Major Cleven,” she squeezed him tighter too. “All of you, all the scars and all the breaks you claim to have.”
Buck was left speechless for a moment. He just kept holding her and kissed her temple before finally speaking up.
“I love you, too, Mrs. Cleven.”
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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The Younger Kind Part 36 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is finally happy, and he knows it's because of you. The way you want to try new things with him in bed makes him feel wild. And the way you love his son makes him feel calm. But when you read a piece of mail before he's ready for you to see it, your reaction has him feeling something new.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, anal sex, butt plug, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
Bradley anxiously awaited for his appointment with Tracy to begin. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she asked him to stop by on his way home from work, but he was here now. And he had his checkbook with him.
"I owe you some money," he said when she finally called him back.
"Sure, but we have other things to talk about," she said, ushering him over to her conference table while she opened up a Red Bull.
His stomach lurched. "It is about Meredith? Is it bad?" He was finally starting to be able to enjoy every day he spent with you and Noah. He didn't have to worry about things constantly, because you were happy to help him with his son and his house. When he got home with Noah the other day, you were changing that lightbulb on the front porch that he'd been meaning to get to. And you kept trying to help him pay his mortgage.
"Yes, it's about Meredith. Just have a seat."
Bradley sat and looked at her expectantly. "Has she been released or something? Do I need to call my girl?"
"No, no," she said, waving him off as she took a sip. "She's been sentenced."
Now Bradley's heart was really pounding. Tracy had told him that Meredith would most likely get five to fifteen years for the fraud charges. Five would be devastating, simply because Noah would still be a minor when she was released. Fifteen would be ideal. Noah would be over eighteen and a legal adult. A fight for custody or money would be a moot point. And well, if Bradley had another child with you, that would have nothing legally to do with his ex at all.
"Please tell me this is good, Tracy. I just want to solidify my life right now exactly as it is. No more messing around with protective orders and broken windows. My kid is happy, and I am happy."
She smiled and said, "You're about to get even happier. Fifteen years."
Bradley was out of his seat with his fist in the air immediately. "Hell yes! Any chance at parole?" he asked.
"There's always a chance. We'll keep an eye on things."
She and he talked for a bit after that, and he felt his body ease back comfortably in the seat. Bradley wrote out a check and left it with Tracy, and then she handed him a folder full of information on adopting a stepchild in California. And a second folder with a preliminary copy of his updated will.
When he got home with his checkbook in his hand, he found you and Noah in the kitchen, and both of you were wearing more peanut butter than the carrots on the cutting board in front of you were. But you were laughing, and so was he, and the house smelled like dinner was cooking.
"I'm home," Bradley said from the kitchen doorway, and you spun in surprise.
"Hi, Daddy," you said as you rushed for him with your messy hands held out at your sides. "You're already done with Tracy?"
"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss you as Noah brought him ants on a log. "Fifteen years," he murmured, and you leaned in for another kiss with a soft, pleased laugh.
"Really?"
"We can talk more later," he said, keeping one arm around your waist as he lifted Noah up and opened his mouth for the messy carrot stick. He kissed Noah while he chewed and then said, "Thanks, Bub. Did you have a good day?"
"Yeah. We did a puppet show," he said before squirming out of Bradley's arm to go make a bigger mess. And that left Bradley holding you and his checkbook.
"Casey asked me to say hi to you when I picked Noah up," you whispered with a little grin on your face as you reached for the checkbook. "I told her I would if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged this evening."
Bradley snorted. "You didn't."
"I did," you confirmed, waving his checkbook in the air between two fingers before tossing it onto the counter. "Who are you writing checks to, old man? I already told you, everyone uses payment apps."
"Tracy," he said. "I'm pretty sure she's older than me."
"Nobody is older than you, Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley took your wrists and guided both of your hands to his mouth. He watched your lips part silently as he licked the healed scar on your palm before sucking your thumb into his mouth. You squeaked as he cleaned the peanut butter from each of your fingers individually as you stepped a little closer to him.
"Who you calling old?" he asked before kissing your palm and squeezing your hip. He made a show of switching to the other hand as you rubbed your core against the front of his pants. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned for him. "Shh," he scolded. "Behave."
But you were only wearing thin scrub pants, and Bradley didn't actually want you to behave. One glance at Noah proved that he was absorbed with emptying a large canister of raisins onto the counter, so Bradley finished with your hand and then palmed both of your butt cheeks at the same time. He squeezed, really enjoying the feel of you as he whispered, "Are you wearing it?"
"No," you gasped. "I just got home from work!"
Bradley shrugged. "You've been wearing it around the past few days. Here and there."
You glanced at Noah over your shoulder before you whispered, "It makes me horny. I can't wear it to work! I'll get fired!"
Bradley chuckled and then he tightened his grip on your ass and said, "Go put it in."
Your teeth immediately sank into your lip. "Now?"
"Yeah," he replied softly. "Like my good girl."
You scampered off to the bedroom, saying, "Take the casserole out of the oven," as you went.
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You knew to take your time with your silicone plug now. Use lots of lube and relax. As soon as you finished inserting it, you were practically moaning for Bradley to put his cock in your pussy. You were kind of addicted to the way it felt when he and the toy were both inside you at the same time. With a few deep breaths, you eased your underwear and your scrub pants back up your legs and made your way back to the kitchen.
Bradley and Noah were sitting at the table with the casserole dish, and when you met your boyfriend's eyes, he was grinning. "Well?" he asked, reaching for your hand.
"You know it, Daddy," you replied, and even though you weren't trying to, your voice took on a needy edge.
He grunted softly, his eyes half lidded now as he patted the chair next to him. Noah was already eating his dinner, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice the way Bradley was looking at you like you were for dessert. You eased yourself onto the seat and whimpered softly as Bradley leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips.
"I love you, Baby," he murmured before brushing your cheek with his nose. "I can't wait to take you to the lake house next weekend. We'll pack your little toy."
He started kissing along your neck, and you didn't think you'd make it through dinner at this rate. Your nipples were hard, and he was barely even touching you. Desperate for a distraction, you tried to reach for the casserole without rolling your hips too much.
"Daddy?" Noah asked. "Can we get a dog?"
"A dog?" Bradley asked, his attention shifting slightly from you to his son. "I already got you a Mommy, isn't that enough?" You snorted with laughter, but Noah was undeterred.
"I want a dog."
"Noah, if we get a dog, somehow it will end up being my responsibility. Maybe when you're older," Bradley said. But he was pouting, and he looked like he was going to cry.
"Daddy," you whined softly with a little grin. "I always wanted a dog, too."
Now Bradley was looking back and forth between you and Noah, before settling on you. "Are you really going to do this to me right now? You could probably get away with murder at the moment, Princess."
"Isn't that always the case?" you asked sweetly as you shifted a bit in your seat and served yourself some dinner.
Bradley groaned and held his forehead in his hand. "Can we talk about this later?" he begged, glancing at you between his fingers. But you were busy smiling at his son.
"We'll work on it, okay sweet Noah?" you whispered.
"Okay," Noah agreed softly before he started eating again.
But teasing Bradley about the dog definitely backfired on you later on the couch. Noah wanted to watch a Disney movie, so Bradley sat in the middle of the couch with your head resting on one thigh and Noah's on the other. The Princess and the Frog was playing, because Bradley insisted you deserved a princess movie. And everything was perfect. His hand was heavy on your side, stroking you through your clothing in the most delicious way.
When the movie was nearly finished, Bradley murmured, "Noah's asleep," as his hand skimmed along your hip. Then inch by inch, his fingers worked their way along your butt until he was cupping you with one big hand. Then you felt him prod you through your clothing, running one long finger across the base of your toy.
"Fuck," he grunted as he very gently pressed it further into you. Full. You were so full. After days of wearing it for an hour here and there, you thought maybe you were ready for more.
You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder and wiggled against his hand. The way he slowly shook his head and licked his lips made you feel like you were in control of this. But you supposed you always were. Then he eased his hand up to your lower back and teased at the waistband of your pants and underwear before dipping it inside.
Rough skin on yours had your eyes fluttering closed. "Look at me, Baby," he whispered, and you clenched for him. "Look at me while I touch you."
You did as you were told, but he subtly let you know you were still in charge. His brown eyes were sincere and open as he cupped your rear end, moving the plug incrementally. Pushing, pulling, tugging and teasing. When you whimpered, he pushed his fingers forward to your pussy.
"Daddy," you gasped as he pushed his rough fingers through your folds.
He spanked your pussy lightly until you were afraid you'd start getting loud. "Go get yourself in bed," he instructed. Then he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. When you rolled onto your belly, your cheek and hand rubbed against his cock in his pants. "I'll come take care of you in a minute."
"Yes, Daddy." You kissed Noah's cheek and then leaned down to taste yourself on Bradley's lips. Then you ran into the bedroom and tossed all of your clothing into the hamper, replacing all of it with a new matching bra and thong you paid for with his credit card. "Damn it," you whined. The toy was making you squirm for release, and you were half tempted to touch yourself. You were nervous, but only slightly, because you knew Bradley would do whatever you told him to. So you grabbed the lube from your drawer and settled onto your beautiful, new bed.
--------------------------
Shit. You were already touching yourself when Bradley walked into the bedroom. Black lingerie, your purple plug peeking out, and you on your back with your fingers in your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. You looked so young and innocent, even with your ass full of that toy. Bradley couldn't believe the words he was about to speak out loud. "Will you let me fuck you in the ass?"
Wide eyed and writhing around on your back on the bed, you nodded at him. "Yes." He was determined to do this just right. He never wanted to hurt you. He always wanted you to feel good when you were with him. Carefully he removed his jeans and joined you on the bed with his cock hard in his briefs.
"You've been teasing me with that toy all night," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips and pulling away so you'd chase him for more. "Time to see if you can handle something a little bigger."
You whined for him as he kissed down your body. "You're a lot bigger," you gasped when he nibbled on you through your bra. "You'll go slow?"
Bradley hummed against your skin, stretching up to kiss your neck. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. And if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."
"Okay," you whispered. "Just go slow."
He could hear the slight edge of apprehension in your voice, so he took your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. He wanted to be sure this was a good type of nervous, not a bad one. "You are under no obligation to do this, Princess. You already give me more than enough."
"I know," you replied, meeting his lips with yours.
But he pulled back and forced you to look him in the eye. "Tell me one more time that this is what you want. And tell me that you trust me."
You nibbled on your lip before you said, "I always trust you. And I want to try this. Now make me feel good."
Bradley was grinning as he slipped his hand down your belly and tucked it inside your black underwear. The swirl of his fingers on your clit had you gasping, and soon he pulled your underwear off. You were already wet when he put his mouth on you, and then Bradley thought about edging you to make you squirt for him. But your fingers were rough in his hair, and he knew he would be too far gone to be as gentle as possible if he did that. So he took his time, burying his nose and mouth in your sweet pussy, and licking you everywhere until you came for him. Then he licked all around that plug and admired the tight pucker of your hole wrapped around it.
"Fuck," he gasped, placing a kiss to your inner thigh. He was going to find out just how tight you were. As you rode the little jolts of pleasure still going through your body, Bradley carefully wrapped his arms around your back and got you onto all fours. "Try it like this?" he asked, caging your body in beneath his.
Your words were a little incoherent as you bucked back against him, and he could feel the base of your toy against his cock through his underwear. Oh hell, he needed to pull himself together. He needed something familiar to calm himself down. Bradley unclasped your bra and pressed his chest to your back, watching the strap slide down your arm. Your hips were rocking back, and he moved in unison with you, planting his left hand on the bed and rubbing your tits with his right.
He kissed along your spine and moaned, "You'll put me in an early grave, I swear it." Your soft giggle had him dragging his lips along your shoulder until he was kissing your neck. "I love you, Baby."
"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered, and it was the sweetest thing. So Bradley stood on his knees behind you, admiring the way you and that toy looked as he spread your legs wide. When he slid his underwear down, his cock bounced up to tap you, nudging the plug and making you groan. He didn't know how this was going to work as he pumped his hand along his girth before slipping himself into your pussy. And that was the familiar thing he needed, clearing his mind as you whined, "I feel so full. My toy and my Daddy."
Bradley smirked and rubbed himself against the base as held your hips. "Just wait," he warned playfully. The pretty curve of your back had him running his hand up and everywhere along your silky skin. Your hair smelled like wildflowers when he kissed your back. And then you were begging him to do it.
He reached for the lube and drizzled it all over you before coating his cock liberally. Then he fucked your pussy with steady strokes as he carefully eased the toy out of you as you gasped. Your perfect hole gripped along the plug, and Bradley had to count to ten to calm himself down. "Baby," he groaned, tossing the toy aside. "You ready?"
"Yes."
His cock was shiny and slick, resting on his palm, and then he was pressing himself to your asshole, convinced you were going to tell him to stop. You were so tight, he had to bite down on his lip as he pushed. And then you were whining, "More. More," as you squeezed the tip of him so much, he was afraid he'd black out.
"Princess," he growled, head tipped back as he pushed slowly. So slowly. He was dizzy from it, the slow pace driving him to the edge. "So tight. Holy hell." And then you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes were glazed over with need, and your lips were parted softly.
"Feels good," you gasped, and he reached out to run his thumb along your lip. You kissed him. You were perfect. He pushed himself a little deeper, and you kissed his thumb again. He looked down to see himself buried inside you as you licked his thumb.
"God damn it," he cursed, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He dipped his thumb into your mouth and whispered, "I can't last like this. Too fucking good. So tight." He was shaking his head, but you were nodding and swirling your tongue along his thumb. He withdrew an inch and thrust, and you started keening.
If Bradley managed even ten strokes inside your ass, it was a miracle. He went slowly, but it was too much. And you were loud, spurring him on with his thumb tucked between your lips and pressed to your tongue.
Every time you tightened around him, he knew he was going to cum. He was just biding his time for a few more seconds, and then it was too much. He tried to keep his movements steady and fluid as he came inside you, but they were a little jerky. He was grunting your name over and over, trying to get himself under control. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice rough as he slipped his thumb out of your mouth.
"Mmm, yes," you moaned. "It only hurt a little, and then it felt good."
Bradley brought both hands to your hips and stroked you as he started to gently withdraw from your body. And then his jaw went slack as you were puckered around his tip. It was going to look so pretty, he just knew it.
"Baby," he whined when he pulled himself free. His white cum was at your opening, and he watched that first droplet as it slid down to your pussy and dripped onto the bed. You were oozing with his finish, and he was transfixed.
You said his name and made to roll over, but Bradley kept you still with his big hands on your thighs. "Shh," he coaxed as another long drop fell to the bed. And then he licked you clean as you mewled and whimpered. He lapped up every bit of his cum as it leaked out of you, and he cleaned up your pussy as well.
"Bradley," you whispered as he gently rolled you to your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled on top of you, careful to keep his full body weight from hurting you. The fucked out, exhausted expression on your face made him smile.
"You did so good, Baby."
"I know," you agreed. "I liked it."
His lips were ghosting over yours as he asked, "Do you need anything? Want me to get a shower ready for us?"
"In a couple minutes," you replied easily. And then Bradley rolled you both to your sides and snuggled you against him with one big hand on your ass.
---------------------------
You were just trying to get through your day at work on Thursday. You just needed to make it to Friday morning when the three of you would be driving up to the lake house to meet Mav, Penny and Amelia. But two of your coworkers were out sick, and you had to pick up all the slack. You even had to text Bradley and let him know you wouldn't be able to pick Noah up or start dinner.
Bradley Daddy Bradshaw: Take your time. I'll make sandwiches for dinner. See you at home.
Once you had all of the exam rooms cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Kelly found you and said, "Go home. Enjoy your long weekend with your family. That little Noah is the cutest thing."
You laughed and nodded. "Oh, he knows he's adorable. It's getting to be a problem. See you next week."
Then you made your way to your car and thought about how you and Noah were most definitely going to wear Bradley down, and soon enough you'd have a dog at home. You'd even been working on a shortlist of names for when that fateful day arrived. You picked up a few pet themed coloring books on your lunch break, and when you pulled into the driveway, you took the bag from the front seat.
The mail truck was just pulling up to your house; he must have been having a late day, too. You walked to the curb to meet him, and he handed everything to you with a wave. As you walked up to the porch, you picked your envelopes out of the stack and left Bradley's separate. Great, your student loan statement was here. You couldn't wait to see how your last payment barely put a dent in things.
"Hi," you called out as you walked through the living room. "Sorry, I'm so late." But when you looked into the kitchen, Bradley was still in his uniform, calmly making a turkey and cheese sandwich and cutting it into little triangles while Noah colored.
"Nothing to be sorry about," Bradley rasped, and you kissed his shoulder through his shirt. "I'll make your sandwich next." But you'd already moved on to Noah, smothering him in kisses while he laughed.
"Check out this dog themed coloring book," you said loudly, earning a glare from Bradley as you set it down in front of Noah. "Isn't this little brown puppy on the cover just adorable?"
"I want a dog," Noah whined as he opened the cover and got to work. You were betting you'd have a dog by next month.
"Relentless," Bradley groaned, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. "Ready for the lake?"
"Yes. And definitely." He tried to hand you a sandwich on a plate, but you said, "Let me go through my mail first before I forget. I want to make sure I log in and make my student loan payment tonight before we leave in the morning." You took the sandwich from him and noticed that he looked a little timid now. "What's wrong?"
"Well. Nothing's wrong," he said quietly as you bit into the sandwich and then set it down again to open up your envelope. But he had you distracted, and you realized too late that you had opened a piece of his mail from Tracy by mistake. You skimmed along the page and you gasped as tears welled up in your eyes.
I, Bradley Bradshaw, a legal adult of sound mind and competency, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament (hereinafter, “Last Will & Testament”) and do hereby revoke any and all wills and codicils heretofore made jointly or severally by me.
In the event I shall die as the sole parent of minor child(ren), then I appoint as guardian over minor child(ren)
You stopped when you read your name and dropped the papers to the floor as you burst into tears. "Bradley," you gasped, and he looked up from where he was putting mayonnaise on a slice of bread. You bent to pick up the papers, but you were so emotional, you could barely see, so you just sat on the floor next to them and looked up at him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down and cupping your face in his hands. "Princess, tell me what's wrong."
You swiped at your tears with your hands and whispered, "You trust me that much?"
"What are you talking about, Baby?" he asked, and then he reached for one of the papers on the floor. "Your student loans?"
He was about to realize what you had read, so you quickly said, "I didn't mean to open it, I tore into the wrong envelope. I thought it was my student-"
Bradley silenced your sentence with a kiss as you sobbed. When he released your lips, you could still feel his nose on your cheek as you tried to get your breathing under control. "Yes. I trust you that much. If something happens to me, I know you'll take care of Noah."
You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him back onto his butt and climbed into his lap. "I would. I really would."
He held you close and softly said, "I was planning on telling you this weekend. The paperwork isn't finalized yet, but I can call Tracy's office and have it completed at any time."
You kissed him and said, "Call first thing tomorrow morning."
"Okay. I'll call first thing tomorrow morning." He was smiling as you let your forehead rest against his.
"Why are you on the floor?" Noah asked, leaning over the table to look at you both.
Bradley scooped you up as he stood and set you down on your feet, but you kept your arms around him. "Mommy was just being silly, Bub. How about you put the crayons down and eat your sandwich." Then he kissed your hair and said, "You better eat your sandwich, too."
You took your plate and the mail to the table and sat down across from Noah. You watched him sip his milk through a straw cup and then eat all of the cheese out of the sandwich first. He was perfect. And you'd never have to be without him. Bradley trusted you with his child more than anyone else. And you knew he wanted to have another one.
As he sat down next to you with his own sandwich and a beer, you opened your student loan envelope and started to read. But you could feel his eyes on you as he sipped his Heineken.
"You okay, Daddy?" you asked softly, wiping at at stray tear.
"Just read your mail," he replied. When you looked back down at the paper in your hands, you saw that instead of nearly ten thousand dollars, your balance due for nursing school was zero.
"What did you do?" you gasped, looking him in the eye.
He just shrugged and bit into his own sandwich, smiling as he chewed. "Paid off your loans. Your interest rate was so high, you'd still be paying on them by the time you're my age. Which is dumb when I have the money to take care of it now."
"Bradley!" Your eyes were welling with tears again as you said, "You didn't have to do that!"
His voice was stern as you crawled into his lap again. "I trust you with Noah, one hundred percent. The money doesn't matter as much as that."
You let your head rest on his shoulder as you straddled his thigh, and his big hand was rubbing your back. "You still didn't have to," you whispered. "But thank you. And now I can help you with your mortgage and bills instead."
"You just save your money, and we'll figure it out later."
But you already knew you'd talk him into letting you pay for something. And the rest could go into a savings account for school for Noah. And anything leftover could be used to plan for the exciting future you were going to experience with the two of them.
---------------------------
Daddy keeps on winning now. And Princess doesn't have to worry about the things that shouldn't matter. Next up, the lake house. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 37
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─────── LOVE MADE ME CRAZY?!
━━━━ dion agriche. manhwa. twtpflob.
‣ fluff! reader is referred to as ‘you’, soft Dion! . ୨:୧
‣ masterlist . recent works . twtpflob. ━━━━
A loveless marriage. that's what this was supposed to be. A loveless and fruitless marriage between you and dion agriche.
Now why couldn't you do that, you may ask so kindly? Because this damnable husband of yours is a clingy puppy over you. Well, perhaps that's an overstatement but still. He was extremely against the rules of your supposed 'loveless marriage' as to him this was no marriage or just mere inconvenience, but rather a marriage where he finally has someone to talk with and do whatever he likes with (as long as you're comfortable, of course.).
Dion was known to be cold, calculating, ruthless, a complete psychopath but to you? He acts like a gentleman, if not that then perhaps just a clingy male who wanted every bit of affection he could get from you. Maybe it was because of his past experiences where he never got affection, but one thing was for sure the man would never leave you alone. No.
This morning was no different, you woke up and the first thing you feel is a heavy weight on half of your body, mostly the lower half. But a slightly lighter feeling was at your chest. You knew who it was of course thus you kept still. It would be a great disappointment to Dion if you dare move and tell him you do not wish to sleep in as you two normally do when he returns from a long hard work during one of his many missions.
After an hour, you finally make your movement to shift around. This was a sign to tell him to get up and start getting ready for the day. On a normal basis it would've worked but you knew better when it came to his return days.
The male absolutely refused to move out of your body. Especially not when he was feeling so much warmth against you. It'd be unforgivable to do such a terrible deed, that's what he thinks at the very least.
"Dion." Your tone was tired but it held firmness. It made Dion groan before he turned, finally letting you breathe smoothly once more.
His red eyes stare at you blankly at first, but then filling with utmost respect minutes later. "Good morning." His voice was sleepy and low. His eyes show dark circles under them, an unhealthy sign.
"Good morning." You answer, your hand reaching to stroke his hair. A move that deliberately gets Dion on his knees trying to reach your fingers.
He leans up and instead kissed you. His blanket gives way and makes the sight of his chest and undeniably tone and fit body in display for your eyes to see. Such a sight brought heat to your cheeks, a blush creeping forth bringing your thoughts deliberately known.
Dion simply grins as he pins you down. "Let's sleep some more." He spoke so kindly and smoothly, you wouldn't dare say no now, would you?
─────── TAGGING?!
━━━━ no one.
#dion agriche x reader#dion agriche#dion agrece#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader#twtpflob#twtpflob dion#manhwa x you#manhwa x reader#manhwa self insert#manhwa#historical manhwa#— the skillfulness of the deities. . . . written works ♡#— a field of dreams and desires. . . . manhwa ♡
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a dragon's fury.
Once you found out that your beloved husband was wounded in battle, the dragon within you comes to light, and you're eager to help him during these war times.
MASTERLIST
PAIRING – Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.
TAGS/TW – fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, winterfell is at war with the wildlings, the greens won, dilf!cregan, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and wounds. If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE – this is the 4th part of my Cregan x Targ!Reader stories, but it can be read as a standalone too. People have ask for it and I'm here to provide.🤗🤍
WORD COUNT – 2.7k
FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!
"Lord Stark has been wounded in battle."
Your eyes immediately left your son’s shape and reached the guard in front of you. Your softened haze soon turned into one filled with worry and fear, rage even. You carefully removed Lysara from your arms and stood up from the fur carpet beneath you. With your now shaky hands you fixed your thick dress before sighing deeply, trying not to raise any alarm to Rickon, who was already old enough to understand what those words could possibly mean.
“Where is he?” You asked. Your usual sweet and charming tone was now replaced by the hardness, stern words which demanded an immediate answer.
“He's in his bedchambers being attended by the Maesters,” the guard informed, to which you only managed to nod.
“How bad is it?” Those words came out as a whisper as you grabbed his arm and started to walk away from the children, so they would not hear.
“Lord Stark is conscious, though some of his wounds are quite deep according to what the Maesters had said,” He replied with the same low tone as you, noticing your intentions.
Your hand went to your belly, trying to find some comfort in it before you realized it was now empty. Your sweet boy had been born just a few weeks ago; Elion Stark. A beautiful babe that was now sleeping in the crib, right next to a white dragon egg, a gift from your brother King Aegon. You looked at the crib where your son was peacefully resting, and after you made sure he was alright you wiped the sweat of your hands on the fabric of your dress. Before you could even notice it, your legs were taking you out of the nursery room and towards your husband’s chambers.
Each step made your heart beat faster, the overwhelming sound of it making your ears buzz and your breathing to tremble. Your loyal guard was walking behind you, following your quick steps with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his guard up just in case you would find some intruders in your way. The war with the free folk had left Winterfell as a target for your foes, leaving you and your children exposed to the danger and risks that this war entails.
You have learnt how to live without fear after being raised with a dragon by your side, you also knew that your children, including Rickon, will be shielded by the same beast that brought you comfort and protection when you were their age… but Cregan was another story. The stubborn man would reject that much needed protection, leaving him exposed to any risk that may come his way; and as consequence, you would spend your days sitting in the nursery room with your babes, praying to Seven for the well being of your beloved husband.
But you decided it was enough once you crossed the wooden door that separated the halls with the chamber that you shared with Cregan, and saw how the maids and Maesters were running from one side of the room to another while your harmed husband was staining the white sheets of the bed with his crimson blood. Your eyes shifted with the purest of terror at the scene, and your nose started to itch as a sign of the upcoming tears that were threatening to escape your eyes. You stood there, right in the door frame, looking horrified at the scene in front of you and holding the handle of the door with such a strength that your knuckles turned white.
Your lower lip quivered as you slowly stepped inside the room, your hand pressing against your chest, which was moving rapidly and unsteadily. A maid was the one who first noticed your presence and bowed before you, staring at you with frightened eyes. You came to wonder which expression was the one on your face for her to have such a reaction.
The silence ruled over the room once they noticed your presence. They all bowed and stepped back, leaving you a path to follow towards your husband's bed. You managed to see his bare chest covered in bruises, a deep cut in his left arm and his gorgeous face swollen with violet stains and cuts that were still dripping blood. His left eye was now red, the gray color you so dearly loved was now replaced by the crimson tint that you so deeply hated to see on him.
Cregan saw you, and he took a deep breath that seemed to have hurt, for his expression furrowed with the signs of the immense pain he was suffering. Your eyes were clouded by tears, your heart aching at the sight. It was unbearable.
"My love," you whispered softly as you walked closely. "Who- who did-" you were unable to keep talking, for your voice broke in mid sentence as your soft hands fell gently on his chest. You felt his hand covering yours, he squeezed it three times and you lifted your face to see his. A little smile appeared on his face, as if he was trying to make you know that he was fine; but you were not blind, he was obviously not fine at all. "Who. did. this?" You spoke again, this time swallowing your sobs and using a more demanding tone.
"My princess," he weakly muttered, "no need to worry, I'm fine-"
"Cregan, I am not playing right now. Who did this?"
His eyes squinted with the unusual pronunciation of his name from your lips. You used to save it for two different occasions; for those which were filled with lust, or for those in which your inner dragon was about to spit fire. "My love-" he tried to excuse himself again.
"Who did this?" You insisted, starting to feel the worry leaving you and being replaced with anger. "Tell me the truth."
He looked around the room, observing the servants and Maester eavesdropping the conversation without trying to hide it at all. You pressed your lips with discontent as you noticed this, and you quickly stood up straight. "Out," you demanded of them, but no one moved. This only made you frown, increasing the anger in you. "All of you, out!" You repeated.
"My princess, our Lord requires our attention," a Maester said to you. Your jaw clenched at the defiance. "His state is-"
"I know what his state is, do you think I do not have eyes to see how my husband is harmed?!" Your voice rising as your cheeks turned red with fury. The middle aged man in front of you shrank in his position after he received your words. "Now get out, but stay around. I will call for all of you once we're finished. Now!"
You saw hesitation in his eyes, but the man simply nodded and with a small gesture he took all of the people out of the room. They quietly left the chambers as you shared stares with your husband. He looked up at you with those gray, puppy eyes, as if he had done something wrong and he was expecting you to scold him anytime now. He looked defenseless.
Only when the door was closed, you said, "Spit it out."
"It was a giant," he confessed, as quickly as you finished pronouncing your words.
"A giant?" You repeated, incredulously.
"I was fighting against the wildlings and this giant came to me out of nowhere…" He took a brief pause, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. You could see in his expression how it pained him to move, and you felt your heart break after seeing him in such a state." Last thing I knew I was flying across the field and landing on the rocks covered by the snow."
"You dumb, tall child," you muttered as you sat next to him. He immediately reached for your hand once again.
"For a moment I thought I was about to die," he confessed, "my mind played a memory of your laughter and I could've sworn I entered the heavens." You almost blush at his charming words, feeling the warmth of his love filling your heart with joy once again. "But then, I got really scared, my love, because I thought, for an instant, that I was leaving you behind… that our pups would've grown without his father, and that our Elion would've not known how to recognise my face."
And just like that, it was as if he was storytelling your worst nightmare; something that you were unable to think without shedding tears. The mere thought broke your soul into pieces. "But you are here," you whispered as you leaned to touch his face, "the gods had brought you back to my arms, because they know I cannot live without you." You grabbed a small bowl on the nightstand which was filled with water, and with a small cloth you started to wipe the blood out of his face. "You have no excuses now, I'm coming with you next time."
"Are you insane?" He quickly said. "Look what they did to me!"
"I would be riding my dragon, love… patrolling the skies so no other being can hurt you again," you spst with rage. "Look at you! They almost took you away from me, I will not allow this to happen again."
"My love-"
"I will not accept defiance from you, husband. I will burn them all, all those savages will die screaming for what they did to you," your voice broke mid sentence as tears streamed down your face. Cregan carefully stretched his arm to cupped your cheek, your immediate response was to lean towards his touch. "You forbade my participation in this war because I was carrying our child, but now I'm prepared enough to fight, and I will call my brothers, they will-"
"Do not," he stopped you, "there's no need."
You frowned, shaking your head. Your stern look was enough to make your husband know that you were disagreeing with him. No words needed, he knew you too well.
"You cannot," he muttered.
"Winterfell is my home now, the place where my children were born… the place when I married the love of my life. It is my duty as Lady Stark to protect it."
"I will not allow it," he shook his head. "I refuse to put your life at risk. Our children need their mother."
"As well as they need their father," you added. Cregan haze softened and his jaw was unclenched. He sighed, tired, hurted, but you did not bend to his words, you were firm in your decision. "Ten years ago we made a pact; you fulfilled your part of the deal by taking your tropes and your bannermen to secure my brother's claim. Aegon is king because of you, my family is alive because of what you and your men did," you reminded him. "It is time for us to return the favor. We got married because of this alliance, remember?"
"We got married because I fell in love with you the instant you arrived in your dragon," he confessed. You leaned back, a bit incredulous.
"You're a liar," you accused him.
"I swear I'm telling no lies, my beautiful princess," he smiled softly, still showing signs of his pain. The hand that was holding your face shifted its position to let his thumb wipe your tears. He scoffed after seeing your expression. "What? Did you really think I would let myself be seduced so easily?" You blushed, remembering the boldness in your attitude on the day of your first encounter. "I let myself go because you were something I just could not resist. You're my greatest weakness, my love, and for that exact same reason I cannot put you at risk."
"I can't let you come back out there alone, not when I have a dragon to protect you. Not when this happened."
"Please…"
"I love you, Cregan," you interrupted him, "and I cannot make it without you. I'm begging you, let me help you… allow me to call my brothers, they will be here within days."
"But-"
"No," you shook your head, "no buts. Let me protect our home, let me fight for it. Together we make a marvelous team, my love… we will win this just if we are together." You got closer to him, close enough to press your forehead against his. The blood of his wounds stained your skin but you did not seem to care, you needed to feel him close. "I don't care if I have to fly my dragon across the Wall, as long as I kill every single one of those who harmed you." You whispered your words, Cregan could taste the rage in them.
Your hands were caressing his wounded face as he moved his chin up in order to reach your lips in a tender and soft kiss. You felt the drops of blood coming out of the cut in his lip and being spreaded against yours. You could not care less.
"Promise me something," he whispered, your eyes remaining closed. "promise me that as soon as you feel something is wrong you will return here…"
You frowned, pulling away from him and opening your eyes. A confused look in them as you said, "and leaving you behind? No way."
"Y/n…" He sighed.
"No, I will not leave you there, Cregan," you shook your head. "As soon as I feel like something is wrong I will make you get up on my dragon and i will fly away with you."
"No, it's too risky."
"I do not care!" You grab his face, softly to not hurt him but strong enough to force him to look at you. "I will be by your side until death do us apart, get used to it. I will not abandon you, no fucking way. So either you accept this, or I will go to ride my dragon and kill them all, without you."
He knew you meant it. He knew your words were not lacking sincerity. He knew you too well. A small nod was all you needed to let go of the air contained in your lungs. He had accepted, making you feel some kind of relief. He was too tired to keep fighting against your ideals, and some part of him knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would not change your mind.
"Send ravens to your brothers, my love," he said. "I'll send them to my bannermen."
"Okay…" you whispered, leaning forward just to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I will."
You stroke his brown thick hair before straightening up and attempt to walk out of the room. He held your hand, however, making you stop before you could move away. You turned to look at him, and Cregan smiled.
"I'm so in love with you, my little princess," he murmured. "My little dragon."
You felt the warmth in your cheeks as you pressed your lips to repress a silly smile. You had been married for more than ten years, and you still feel like a maiden being courted every time he would say those things to you. Your heart jumping out of excitement, making you forget all the problems that existed on the other side of the door. You allowed yourself to soften your hard demeanor, just for a few seconds, and only for him to see.
"We're going to protect our home," you said, "we're going to bring peace to our children's future… I promise you that."
"I know," he nodded.
A small silence was present afterwards, but it was quickly interrupted by your words, "I love you."
Cregan smiled.
"And I love you too."
You kissed his hand before letting him go. Walking towards the door and allowing the Maesters and the maids to come inside to attend your husband once again.
You gave one last look inside the room, and once again your hand fell on your belly out of habit. As the door closed, your facade became hard and stern. Your jaw clenched as your haze became one full of anger and hate; you asked for forgiveness to the gods, for you promised to yourself you were going to make all those savages scream in agony for what they had done to your sweet husband.
You were going to make sure of that.
BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU
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#among wolves and dragons#cregan stark fanfic#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x targ!reader#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x targaryen!reader#cregan stark#cregan x targ!wife#cregan x y/n#cregan x you#house of the dragon#hotd#house stark#house targaryen#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#hotd au#the greens#targ!reader
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