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slytherinshua · 1 month

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YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE

genre. fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au. warnings. descriptions of a stab wound. blood. knives and guns. some profanity. kissing. they kinda argue but very mildly. i researched a little on how to treat wounds but pls don't expect it to be too accurate 😭. pairing. fiancé!jeno x reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. so ever since the concept trailers this jeno has been the only thing on my mind I swear 😔 and nursing trope is one of my fav tropes ever so I joined the two together and was very delulu 👍

“Again?” You asked, less than happy at the sight of the tall man who stood against the doorframe, one hand clutching his side painfully. Lee Jeno always disappeared without warning on another mission only to return, usually injured, for you to patch him up. You had urged him to hire an actual medic for the job, but he refused, saying he didn’t trust anyone but you to get that close to him. That was a few years back when the occasions for it were still rare. You were alarmed at how often he seemed to be going out, and returning with increasingly worse injuries.

Your knowledge and skill with patching up wounds— dagger wounds, bruises and scrapes from physical altercations, hell, even gunshot wounds— was a lot better than years ago. You were confident in your ability to get your fiancé back to health, but you weren’t pleased with how often you had to. No matter how much you pleaded with him to let his body rest, he would more often than not, be out again just hours after you had tended to his bleeding body.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled out. You would have been shocked by how hoarse his voice had become if this was the first time, but you were all too used to it. Your heart still clenched painfully seeing him in that state.

He could barely walk, blood dripping a little from where his hand pressed tightly to his left side, his face scrunched in pain as laboured irregular breaths left his mouth.

“Come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” You said quietly, already having gotten out the box of medical supplies. You were ready with the bottle of saline already, but it wasn’t anywhere near the top of Jeno’s worries. From the tone of your voice, he could tell you were mad at him. Or maybe it was mostly disappointment? A touch of worry, perhaps.

He made his way towards you, carefully limping towards the bed until he could gently lower himself onto it with his weight supported by the bedframe. He sat still as you gently took off his shirt, eyes assessing the dark red spot that stained the side of his stomach and up his ribcage. You glanced up to his face, and he met your eyes for half a second with a slow breath out.

“Knife. It’s not that deep, I stopped their hand before they could push it in very far.” He whispered, and then shut his eyes tightly when you dabbed a little at the wound with a soft wet cloth soaked in saline.

“Are you staying for long?” You asked, guarding your heart for what his answer would be. You loved Jeno— you loved him more than anything, and you tried to be as selfless as you could regarding him and his job. You never put up a fuss about having to patch him up, and you only ever gently tried to persuade him to be more careful. But it was hard, really hard. You couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might be able to stay for a bit longer with you. You hated how you only seemed to be seeing him to treat his wounds for the past month.

But it only reminded you of how he was by far the most selfless person you knew.

Countless threats had always been looking for Jeno’s weakness. And you happened to be the most vital one. You were unspeakably precious to him, and unfortunately, his rivals knew that. Of course, he did everything he could to protect you. You trusted him with your life. There was no one else who you would ever trust as much as him. And he had never lost your trust. You had never even had a scratch delivered to you. But the tradeoff of the protection that Jeno made sure you had was his own life being put at risk almost every day.

Every cut, stab, or bruise that littered his fair skin were marks of how determined he was to keep you safe. The least you could do was treat his body in return with your gentle hands, wiping away the blood, wrapping the wounds carefully, and stitching them up when needed.

Jeno answered your question with only a silent nod yes. Although relief filled your body that he wouldn’t be out again immediately, you still focused on the more important task at hand. You could enjoy his company once he wasn’t bleeding.

“Are they still after you?” You rummaged around in the box for the antibiotic ointment, dabbing a bit on your finger before leaning closer to apply it. “This’ll sting.” You muttered as a warning before dabbing the wound as carefully as you could. Jeno tensed up, his fingers bunching up the sheet of the bed as he did his best to stay still.

“Talk to me. It’ll help distract you.” You told him, pausing your application of the antibiotics to rest a hand on his shoulder, providing a small bit of comfort.

“They’re… They’re after you, not me. You know that.” He whispered out as you continued to treat the wound. “They can’t take me by themselves— they’d be fucking stupid to try. I made sure that they won’t bother us for at least a month. I’ll have to talk to Renjun and Donghyuck about our next course of action.” You hummed in understanding, grabbing the roll of gauze next.

“You need to rest your body, Jeno.” You said quietly. You could tell he was about to protest, so you interrupted quickly, “Doctor’s orders. Don’t pull anymore dumb shit.”

“It’s not dumb shit. It’s to protect you.” He argued back, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, starting to wrap the white cloth around his waist, “I know. But you said yourself that you have a month. At least for a week of that month, you need to rest and recover.”

Your fiancé seemed unsettled at the thought of a whole week of rest; a week of letting his guard down. It was almost unheard of for him. He knew from experience that as soon as he let himself relax, something unexpected would happen. But maybe you were right. Maybe a week of rest is what he needed.

You secured the wrap tightly, and mumbled out how you were all done. Jeno just stared at you while you cleaned up, soaking up the face he hadn’t gotten a chance to study for the past month. He felt incredibly guilty for how often he had been gone, and even more so for how often he had let you see him like this. He knew you hated it, but you never complained. He didn’t deserve you.

“I love you.” He spoke suddenly, interrupting the cold silence of the room. You shut the metal drawer slowly, back still turned to him as you let a small smile grow on your face. You hadn’t heard those words from him in a while. You turned back to sit down next to him again, your eyes staring into his.

“Won’t you say it back?” He whispered, reaching for your hand; your left hand, the one that adorned that diamond ring he had given you months prior. You let him pull you closer as his right hand enclosed over your left. His fingers felt a bit rough, but they were warm and comfortable. With his left hand on the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward until his lips closed over yours.

You could just barely taste the metallicness of blood from the slight cut to his bottom lip. But you didn’t focus on it, too absorbed in the gentleness of his kiss and how perfectly his lips felt against yours even after years had passed. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath.

You pecked his lips again, “I love you too. Always.”

He visibly relaxed at your words and dropped his head to your shoulder. You sighed, threading your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck, holding him closely. He shuddered quietly, and you frowned.

“Cold?” Your hand ran up and down his back slowly, feeling goosebumps rise from the chill. You traced one of the many scars that marked him, stopping at the dip of his scapula and muscle. You reached behind your back, feeling around along the mattress for a blanket. You caught hold of it and gently draped it around Jeno.

You smiled fondly at the way he nestled his head a little closer to the crook of your neck. From his breath, you figured he was already almost asleep. You didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but you knew the position would quickly get uncomfortable, so you shifted his head down to your chest and laid back until you hit the mattress. He didn’t protest at all, but shifted into a comfortable spot in his half-asleep state. With his head on your chest, his arm around your waist, and his legs tangled with yours, you found the new position to be much more promising for getting good sleep.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and made sure the blanket covered his body before you closed your eyes as well.

↳ nct dream taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,,

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ilwonuu · 2 months

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Hi!! Saw your post about stray kids and help for ideas and it’s been BUGGING ME FOR DAYS about how Chan reacts throughout the whole pregnancy

(I’m in my soft girl era with him rn and oh gods it’s killing me 😩❤️)

Also I love your works! :))❤️

i literally could not write this when you first requested bc i was busy at that moment. but its been on my brain i needed to write it asap THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING SOMETHING!!! i hope you like<3

*°:⋆ₓₒ bangchan during your pregnancy ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

∘°∘♡∘°∘°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.° ∘°∘♡∘°∘

mentions sex, fluff!!! mdni

✾ bangchan who is so excited when you tell him you’re pregnant. he even cries in your arms with happiness. “i can’t believe i’m gonna have a baby with you. you’re gonna be the best mom.”

✾ bangchan who is nervous about the news but is always strong for you.

✾ bangchan who is making sure you eat what you want and need whenever.

✾ bangchan who comes to you in your 7th week with baby names. him telling you that of course whatever name you two choose is the perfect one.

✾ bangchan who would never waste a moment to have his hands on you. his love language easily being shown with the way he acts towards you. any chance he has he is hugging you or kissing you.

✾ bangchan who loves your tummy. when you started to show he would be obsessed. always laying on your thighs so he is closer. he would always talk to your stomach. he would leave kisses all over your stomach to help you fall asleep.

✾ bangchan who loves to fuck you sweetly while your pregnant. him telling you how good it feels and how pretty you look.

✾ bangchan who always would eat your pregnancy cravings with you just for fun. he would tell you his opinions on them. always making sure you have what you need from the grocery store.

✾ bangchan who would realize the bad day you were having. he would cook you dinner and set a nice bath. making sure you get all the pampering you need to feel better.

✾ bangchan who gives you massages and legs rubs even when you don’t ask. he just wants an excuse to be close to you and for you to be relaxed.

✾ bangchan who constantly took photos of the two of you throughout pregnancy for memories. always adding that you look beautiful in the photos.

✾ bangchan who always was talking to his members about how happy is. always saying how much he loves you to them. (his members love you very much too) him also going to them when he did something to upset you.

✾ bangchan who always was patient with you when you’re upset or uncomfortable. he never got upset with you always listening to you and helping to make sure you’re feeling better. always resolving the conflicts and listening to you (even if you’re wrong lmfao)

✾ bangchan who always wakes up before you. his body picking up a routine so that if you need him he is awake when you get up.

✾ bangchan who gets a bunch of gifts for you and the baby randomly. saying he doesn’t need a reason to spoil you.

✾ bangchan who stresses so much when you tell him your water broke. him gathering every single thing you need and getting you to the hospital.

✾ bangchan who holds your hand and never leaves your side as you go into labour. him whispers to you telling you what a perfect job your doing.

✾ bangchan who cries in the hospital room when he holds your baby for the first time. his reaction causing you to cry with him.

✾ bangchan who is the happiest person in the world when you two take your baby home.

✾ bangchan who is spending his time with you two as much as possible. always telling you he loves you 100 times a day.

#skz stay #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz #skz bang chan #bang chan #bangchan fluff #bangchan smut #bangchan stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bangchan fic

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monzabee · 1 year

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you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all.

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely.

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain.

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September.

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–”

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!”

He shrugs. “So?”

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.”

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.”

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?”

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student.

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee.

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster.

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair.

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!”

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time.

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.”

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid.

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.”

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.”

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?”

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day.

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape.

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot.

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.”

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.”

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.”

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue.

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.”

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument.

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.”

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements.

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.”

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue.

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips.

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend.

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year.

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.”

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.”

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather.

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.”

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better.

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light.

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.”

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh.

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?”

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen.

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room.

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder.

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you.

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice.

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?”

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother.

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.”

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.”

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders.

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well.

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes.

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.”

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.”

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you.

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off.

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.”

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!”

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.”

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?”

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!”

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?”

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.”

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest.

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things.

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on.

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes.

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.”

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time.

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps.

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.”

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself.

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying, while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie.

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.”

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.”

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair.

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind.

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter.

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice.

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out.

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?”

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off.

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.”

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.”

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?”

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.”

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.”

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.”

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips.

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.”

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.”

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout.

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke.

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.”

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.”

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.”

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.”

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused.

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.”

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“Now in French?”

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.”

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

“What?” He asks in horror.

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide.

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home.

#monzabee #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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hoedamn-eron · 2 months

Text

shut up, kid

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

Warnings: Nathan is honestly the only warning you need. I suppose some hints of breastfeeding too (a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast). Actually proofread for once, but probably still mistakes that I missed. Word count: 750 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was written VERY last minute (by last minute, I mean at 9:30pm on Mother's Day in the UK 😂). Anyway, happy Mother’s Day to all the parents out there! 😊 I’ve recently been very broody and very Nathan oriented, so I created this mostly self-indulgent fic (loosely based on this post from a few weeks ago).

I struggle to write Nathan, I feel like I can't get his personalty, or his demeanour right, so please let me know if I can improve anywhere! I want to write more Nathan!

It was the sound of a loud, high-pitched, excited squeal, that woke you up.

“Hey,” came the voice of your boyfriend, sounding distant and muffled as the sweet caress of sleep called back to you. “I know we came to wake up your mom, but that’s not the way to do it. You want to deal with the dragon before she’s had her morning coffee? No? I fuckin’ thought not. Shut up, kid.”

“You shouldn’t swear at your son,” you muttered into your pillow, knowing now that sleep was just a distant memory.

“Ah, shit.”

You grin into the pillow before you look up, your eyes blurrily settling on your boyfriend, who had a mug of coffee in his left hand (in your favourite mug – one you got from a Blue Book convention back when you were in college, long before you met Nathan...Nathan hated it), and his other hand was occupied supporting your seven-month-old son, Silas, who was happily sitting on Nathan’s hip, still in his footsie pyjamas, chewing on his pointer finger. It was sickening how you carried the kid for nine months, and going through a 36-hour labour, sacrificing your body and your boobs (your nipples will never be the same again), for him to look exactly like Nathan.

You still love the bones off him anyway.

“Kid doesn’t know what I’m saying, it’s fine,” Nathan continues, coming over to you and holding out the mug. You take it, smiling up at Nathan as he leans down to you and presses a kiss against your lips, murmuring a ‘good morning’ to you before he straightens up.

He’s so hot. Even now, he’s just wearing some old sweatpants and a t-shirt (it even has a stain of old baby throw up, which you just couldn’t get out), but it’s the way he’s holding your son...it does things to you.

“Good morning,” you greeted back, taking a sip of your coffee. You nod at Silas as he continued to chew on his finger. “Lost another pacifier?”

“I don’t know what he does with them,” Nathan said, shaking his head, gesturing with now free his hand around the room. “Spend all my fuckin’ spare time trying to find that blue one that he refuses to nap without.”

“Language,” you tell him, take a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry,” he says, almost on autopilot. “I’ll request more for the chopper next week. Think 50 will be enough? Obviously fuckin’ not, he’ll lose them all within a week.”

You laugh as you shake your head at him before looking at Silas. “Is your dada silly?” you ask him in your most annoying baby voice.

The kid loves it. He smiles widely at you and kicks his legs in excitement.

“Anyway,” Nathan says, adjusting Silas in his grip as he looked back at you, evidently choosing to ignore your comment to your son. “Happy Mother’s Day, or whatever. I made you breakfast, your favourite. The kid had some, he loved it, so now we’ll probably have to make it for him every day. I’ll run you a bath and by the time you’re finished it should be ready. While you’re being a lazy ass in the tub and skirting your duties as a mother - “

You go to swat Nathan on the thigh, but he dodges you swiftly and carries on like he was never interrupted.

“Me and this one,” he nods to Silas. “Will work on some tummy time, see if we can start crawling today.”

“Not all kids start crawling at seven months.”

“Not all kids are mine.”

“Debatable, regarding all the sex you were having before we met.”

“You’re reaping all the benefits from ‘all that sex’.”

“You pig.”

“You love me.”

You do. God, you do. So much. But you’re not going to tell him that.

You take a gulp of your coffee, hiding your smile.

“Get your pretty ass out of bed,” Nathan said, already turning away from you, grabbing Silas around the tummy and tossing him lightly in the air and catching him, causing Silas to laugh that cute baby giggle he has that melts your heart. “Come and celebrate your first Mother’s Day.”

He leaves the room, and you laugh to yourself as you distinctly hear the sound of Nathan giving Silas a raspberry on his belly as he walks down the corridor, the squealing sound of laughter from your son following right after.

It sends a warm feeling of joy and happiness through you.

#nathan x reader #nathan bateman #nathan Bateman x reader #dad!nathan Bateman #nathan Bateman x f!reader #ex machina #oscar isaac #dad!nathan bateman x mom!reader

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siriusblackslut · 4 months

Text

One where Sejanus realises Coryo is not such a great friend after all

Coryo may not be Sejanus’ best friend, but he sure is best at something else involving Sejanus’ girlfriend.

Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader

Word: 3667

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, infidelity?, cuckholding

It had been spoken in confidence.

Whether in a moment of drunkenness or a lapse in judgement, Sejanus had divulged his greatest insecurity to someone he had thought he could trust.

Coriolanus would have thanked his lucky stars, but he was a cautious man and had to see for himself first.

And see he did. He watches with hungry eyes, your silhouette at the head of the bed and the tops of your knees spread flushed against the headboard that Sejanus grips till his knuckles turn white as he ruts uncontrollably like a district animal into you.

“Sej,” he can make out his friend’s name between your laboured moans and figures from the staccato of your breaths that you must be close.

So it was with even greater delight when he watches Sejanus’ hips slow and stutter, grunting as he pulls back away from you.

As if Coryo needed yet another reason to think Sejanus incompetent.

He hears you whine in response, and the frustration is evident in your throat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Your fingers glisten in the lamplight, your own arousal from the futile efforts at your clit, Coryo thinks, as you draw your boyfriend tight into your chest. “It’s okay, it’s fine Sej.”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

There is a pause, then a restrained sigh. “Sure.”

Coryo thinks that this intimate interaction is cute in a pitiful way, and he has had enough been its voyeur, letting the clicks of his shoes make his presence known.

Clearly, it takes you by surprise and you shriek, arms wrapping tighter to clutch at your boyfriend and blinking in sheer astonishment as you watch his friend make his leisurely way through your bedroom floor, grabbing at the dresser chair and pulling it to face the bed before making himself too comfortable in it.

All whilst no one spoke in a perplexing silence.

You had to elbow Sejanus for him to finally speak, and even then, the confrontation felt reluctant. “What are you doing here, Coryo?” Sejanus sighs.

God, he was so pathetic.

“What am I doing here?” Coryo repeats in mock surprise, “You were the one who asked for help, remember?”

Now that gets your attention. “Help?” you ask sharply, “help with what?”, and then in a disapproving tone you add, “And really is this the best time for it?”

Your cluelessness almost endears him, but Coryo doesn’t acknowledge you just yet, giving Sejanus a pointed look instead, “You haven’t told her?”

“Tell me what?”

“Come on now Sejanus.” Coryo tuts.

“I just— it’s silly really.”

Sejanus doesn’t offer any more than that and Coryo is more than happy to comply now.

“Just that he couldn’t satisfy you with his little prick.” Coryo doesn’t love a lot of things, but he sure does love stirring up trouble.

It has the intended effect, and you shove Sejanus from you in a moment of disgust, shuffling towards the edge of the bed. The hurt and betrayal in your voice makes Coryo giddy, “You told him that? That’s private!” and he also notes that you have not denied the very fact. “And besides, what did you expect him to do about it?” Your gaze follows your accusatory finger through to Sejanus’ friend, only to be met with greedy eyes raking over your now bare tits, and only then did you cross your arms.

It's disappointing, but Coryo considers it a little teaser as to what more there is to come. He shrugs, “A demonstration.”

“A demonstration?” you scoff, “That’s ludri-“

“What do you say Sej?”

It irks you that he discusses you like you were not in the very same room, but at least you have your boyfriend to count on, right?

It is a soft mutter and Sejanus cannot meet your eyes. “I guess.”

Coryo thinks Sejanus is so so stupid, but it works so well in his favour.

“You heard him,” and he is already making quick work at the buttons of his fly, sliding his trousers down just below his hips so that from the clothed bulge springs up a pretty cock, proud and slit already weeping. The room is dim, but you can see the shadows snaking their way around the bulging veins at his thick shaft in a way that looked simply irresistible.

The protest in your throat feels stuck.

Coryo knows you were already especially susceptible, having just had an orgasm snatched out of your wanting hands moments earlier, and now with you upset at Sejanus? He knows you only needed the sight of his sweet cock to nudge you in the right direction that is a little closer to him.

But then you glance back at your boyfriend for approval and the loyalty dripping in the air is sickening.

Coryo raps his palm on his clothed thigh, and it gets your attention, snapping you out of your trance. “On here,” he instructs.

You peer through your lashes shyly once more at him.

“I won’t ask twice.”

But then your gaze moves back to Sejanus and whatever for? It makes Coryo nauseous.

He puts you out of your misery and kindly makes up your irresolute mind for you. Lunging to drag you back from the edge of the bed and onto his lap back at the chair, he hooks your left thigh behind his own. You topple over losing your balance in surprise, and Coryo works fast to tuck your other leg behind his right knee, spreading you out into a lovely position onto his lap with your bare back pressing against his clothed chest.

He laments the fact that he would miss watching your tits bounce as he fucks you on his cock, but the way you are now bound with your helpless thighs secured behind his makes up for that very fact and besides, he likes having that to look forward to next time.

Skimming his fingers up the curve of your waist making you shiver, he pulls you down against his lap. The friction of the scratchy wool of his trousers against your naked thigh feels unpleasant, but your pussy, oh it glides across his hard shaft smearing your arousal across it in a way that you can feel every pulsating bump of vein across your delicate folds.

A soft whimper breaks through your lips.

“I think she’s warming up to it now, Sej.” Coryo loves being cruel and to be cruel now, was to remind you that you were letting yourself be ravaged by another whilst your boyfriend watches meekly on.

It has the intended effect and Coryo expects no less from you. Your hands scrambling for his clad thigh, just yet another reminder of how bare you are, to push yourself up and your core prepares to tense, but Coryo is sick of this game and he digs his fingers painfully into your waist pushing you down once more and this time, the head of his cock bumps against your clit.

The sudden friction makes you slack against his arms and Coryo makes out the beginning of a moan before you swallow it down your throat.

Coryo isn’t an idiot, he knows his ministrations affects you; he can feel the hitch of your breath against his chest, the hammering of your heart against his forearm, but still, you maintain a poor attempt of indifference. Perhaps it is out of respect for Sejanus, but it only serves as a challenge for Coryo because whilst it was fun to have you struggle against him and for him to take whatever he wants that is more than you were willing to give, he finds greater thrill to have you begging for him despite whatever silly feelings you have for your boyfriend. He wants to take you, then your mind, then Sejanus’ pride, confidence and dignity.

With his free hand that isn’t leaving bruises at your waist, he reaches over your thighs tangled with his own to fist at his cock. He starts slowly, teasing it up your delicate folds before stopping to swirl at your clit. His spongy flesh rubbing against your sensitive core draws another gasp out of you, but it is short and muffled.

So, he rinses and repeat, continuing his incessant teasing until he gets exactly what he wants. Dragging his angry cock-head down your silky pussy lips and then up again to kiss at that swollen nub. Once, he has you squirming on his lap, then twice and thrice until you are shamelessly bucking your hips.

But Coryo still doesn’t miss the way your eyes continue to skitter towards Sejanus’ for his continuing approval, and he decides he mustn’t have broken you enough yet.

Leaving your achy clit, Coryo tugs his cock down and just barely dips the tip of his cock into your dripping slit, and oh yes, that seemed to do it.

Your hips snap up, desperate for him to stretch you wide and split you open in half, but Coryo is smart and has already pulled his cock away, just enough for your pussy to smear against his shaft. “Fuck, please,” your voice is gravelly and laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal.

Coryo almost feels sorry for you, but he has one more to go after.

Pressing his cock at your slit once more, he feels the gentle parting of your pussy lips dripping with your nectar just for him and he savours the moment of your hot wet envelope around him even if it is just the tip, before he pulls away once more.

You gasp your strangled gasp, “I need— please,” and he knows it must have taken every single ounce of your pride to even muster one up in front of Sejanus, “please, Coryo.”

His name rolling off your tongue was intoxicating and he nearly loses his resolve. Nearly.

You roll your hips weakly, but it is to no avail.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and he feels the tears trickling down your cheek, dripping onto his shirt.

His cock is impossibly hard now, but Coryo is adamant still, guiding his throbbing tip just between your lips. He can feel the twitching of your folds, their inviting stretch just for him.

“Please, I need--” you hiccup between your desperate sobs, “Please, please Cory—"

“Just fuck her alright!”

Poor Sejanus. Sejanus with that encouraging expression now wavering, seemingly regretting allowing this lewd and filthy sight, but who also appears to have had enough of his girlfriend tortured, quivering and spilling full of unresolved tension.

Coryo smirks crookedly.

One more shallow and controlled thrust, the tip of his angry cockhead skimming the petals of your swollen pussy just for a moment before he pulls your pliant body up by the waist and—

He lets you sink onto him.

It is met with a little resistance initially as he buries his throbbing tip into you, and then with another forceful thrust and his bruising fingers by your waist pulling you further down onto him, the girth of his shaft soon follows, swallowed within your wet walls.

Judging from your faint whimpers, it is a tight fit, tight and snug in a way he is sure you can feel every bump that is a pulsating vein as he sheaths more of himself into you.

“Am I doing okay, Sej?”

Coryo rolls his eyes.

It seems he had not been the only one who had noticed Sejanus’ smile growing strained.

And he had really thought he had you broken enough too, but he is more than happy to remedy his oversight.

He snaps his hips, forcefully burying himself into you in retaliation and the room reverberates that obscene squelch of your pussy.

“I’m sorry,” he drawls, bored as if his whole cock wasn’t throbbing inside you, “Did you forget who’s cock you’re currently impaled on?”

You maintain your silence but that only serves to irritate Coryo even more.

“The cock that you begged for!”

God, Coryo is so unimpressed with you. If only you had played nice, he would have eased you in with some languid thrusts, but he is severely irritated now and decides that an unforgiving pace of his pistoning hips into yours may set right your aching heart, if not pussy.

You cry out as he fucks into you violently, but Coryo is ruthless and he pushes you further into a territory of pain with his fingernails digging into the hollows of your cheek as he jolts your limp head upright. It makes your eyes water.

“Look at him.”

Blinking your tears away, you see Sejanus with a watery expression. Coryo thinks Sejanus couldn’t look anymore pitiful.

He snarls and it is threatening, “Tell me, is he fucking you right now?”

The drive of his hips is unrelentless now, and from the pain rises a familiar yearning and it is the fear of losing it, you don’t think you could go through another stolen-near-almost orgasm, that replies him.

“No,” you murmur hazily, shaking your head as if to prove your point further and Coryo thinks that this is the point of no return, “just you Coryo.”

He likes you like this, obedient like a puppy, and he rewards you by bringing his free hand to your pussy engorged with his cock, his calloused fingers twirling at your clit.

It is clearly the right decision as not a moment after, you are bucking your hips, grinding yourself deeper onto him, and Coryo understands why Sejanus had so much trouble holding himself back when he is inside you because you were just so warm and hot and wet and all-encompassing.

Coryo doesn’t mind sitting back for a little while. He slows his thrusts, all the better to savour the spectacle that is Sejanus broken down and hacked into pieces with a front row seat of his girlfriend’s pretty pink pussy glistening stretched obscenely around Coryo’s thick shaft as she bounces away happily, completely cock-drunk and chasing her own release that he couldn’t not supply.

And to rub salt into the wound, Coryo grips a fistful of your hair, pushing your head down towards his to capture your lips in a painful kiss with his tongue swirling in your mouth.

When he pulls back, there is a strand of spit glimmering between his mouth and your lips that hung agape.

He smears it onto the crook of your neck, “I think Sej likes this different view.” Coryo’s murmurs are soft enough to be covered by your breathy pants, but he pulls back a little so that Sejanus has an eyeful of his lips brushing at your ear as they moved in speech because how better than to stir up his insecurities? “You better give him a show.”

Stupid with your eyes half-lidded barely making out the silhouette of your boyfriend at the edge of the bed, you believe him, giving another sensual roll of your hips, your chest thrusting forward in the same motion.

“Tell Sejanus whose cock is making you feel so good.”

You let your boyfriend, and the neighbours for that matter, know, a string of Coryo’s name tumbling out of your mouth until they reform back to unintelligible pants.

And when Coryo removes his face nuzzling into your neck to commit to memory Sejanus’ broken expression whilst you chant his name over and over like a fervent prayer, Coryo is even more amused when he realises Sejanus is half hard and to what? The sick sight of his girlfriend enjoying herself on his best friend’s fat dick?

“Let your boyfriend know just how much you love this.”

You are a docile little thing, complying with a dizzy sigh, “God, I love this Sej.”

“Tell him what I’m doing to make you love this.” This is a demonstration after all and Sejanus needs to learn, although the lesson Coryo is teaching had more to do with Sejanus’ place.

“He’s—" Your scrambled brain cannot keep up with all the sensations inflicted on you, so you settle with pointing out the obvious, “He’s fucking me Sej.”

Hardly, you seem to be doing most of the work anyways.

“Am I better than him?”

“I--” you swallow thickly, “I love this.”

Coryo senses your hesitation, and he acts swiftly and decisively, lips latching towards your limp neck to lick a bead of your salty sweat up behind your ear. “He’s hard” he whispers.

You blink the happy tears out of your eyes and sure enough, you pan down your boyfriend’s guilty expression to find him fisting his erection.

Coryo asks you once more. “Tell your boyfriend who makes you feel better. Tell him!” he snarls.

And sure as hell being the dumb little girl you are, you’re convinced. Or maybe it is Coryo resuming his powerful and painful drive of his hips meeting the downward jut of hips, his angry cockhead licking some sensitive spongy spot within your pulsating wall. Regardless, you answer his question.

“You Coryo!” you wailed, and he is happy with your answer, slowing his thrusts to a lazy pace. He can feel the beginnings of your orgasm, the involuntary twitching of your pussy walls hugging his cock as you continue to grind onto him and he helps you out, the rough pads of his fingers now drawing tight circles at your sensitive clit.

He feels you when the tension finally snaps, when you tumble over the edge. Your walls hug him impossibly tight and he feels your warmth trickling down his cock lodged inside you as you drench him in all your sweet nectar. It feels good, but it feels even better knowing that Sejanus has never had your pretty walls squeeze his cock like this.

It is hidden amongst your strings of gasps when Coryo hears an unmistakable grunt. He looks up to see Sejanus spent once again with globs of white scattered on his thighs and stomach. And to the sight of his own girlfriend coming undone on his best friend’s cock, Coryo wants to laugh.

“She even tighter when she cums,” he tells Sejanus with no sordid detail spared, “Twitching around me and so fucking warm too.”

Your moan in response, whether in agreement or in protest is irrelevant, but along with your trembling thighs still mindlessly bucking as you ride out your orgasm on his still hard cock, it adds to Coryo’s point.

“All you have to do,” Coryo instructs between his own groans, “is you just fuck her stupid like this.”

A demonstration after all, and with his free hand that isn’t flicking at your sensitive clit, Coryo digs his fingers into your waist to hold your quivering hips in place before he speeds up to an unrelentless pace now chasing his own release.

It seems to prolong your own too, or maybe gets you to another high judging by the wracked gasp escaping your throat and the way your walls seem to massage his cock even further as if urging him to spill into you.

Twice, he muses condescendingly.

The thought of Sejanus utterly humiliated, Sejanus who has all the wealth in the world but who cannot even get his gorgeous girlfriend to come undone not once but twice on his cock, is exhilarating.

And then the knowledge that tonight’s memory, you grinding on Coryo’s cock with your walls clamping down tight on his pulsating member that was spurting and tainting your walls with seed white as snow, is now forever seared into Sejanus’ little district brain, seared in a way that makes his cuckhold prick hard, brings Coryo over the edge.

He gives one final thrust, burying his whole hard length into you so that his cockhead spilling his creamy essence just kissed your cervix. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he tips over the edge because Coryo is sick, wanting a permanent mark for Sejanus to remember this night by, but maybe you are sick like him too because he knows it must have been painful, the taste of iron evident on his tongue, and yet he is blessed with another one of your shaky gasp coupled with another unmistakable wave of your walls just clenching around his spurting cock.

It is all nearly too much for you bear.

Overstimulating really. Coryo who is still drawing languid circles at your clit whilst rutting, shallowly albeit, into you, the sudden spread of warmth in your belly as he empties himself into you, the viscous trickle of blood down your collarbone, the clammy sweat mix with the sweet metallic smell of blood lingering thick in the air and the pain at your shoulder radiating like electricity to your core, has you reduced to a string of whimpers and moans squirming weakly on Coryo’s lap.

It isn’t long before his softening cock breaks the seal of your spent pussy, and with every weak clench of your pussy from the overstimulation that is Coryo’s digit still at your clit, his cum begins to drip out of you.

It is messy, and Coryo decides he has enough; he doesn’t want his trousers dirtied. Moving his clad thighs out of the way, you instinctively squeeze your strained legs together in a poor attempt to mask the trickle of his creamy seed now trailing down your inner thigh, stumbling your way back onto the bed next to Sejanus.

The sight in front of him, the debauchery that is the cuckhold heir of the Plinth fortune and then you, his regal little girlfriend wearing a dizzy drunk expression with Coryo’s own seed sticky sandwiched between your thighs, all whilst he is fully dressed after tucking himself back into his slacks, though with unpolished shoes and faded cufflinks and a tad more w`rinkled, makes Coryo feel immensely powerful and does wonders for his ego.

And just for the final blow, Coryo gives Sejanus’ shoulder a squeeze on his way out. “Might just demonstrate a different position next time,” he says smugly and then his lip curls up into a smirk that he hopes looked cruel, “I like it much better when Snow’s on top.”

#coriolanus smut #coryo smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fic #coryo x reader #coryo snow x reader

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boldlyvoid · 5 months

Text

Waiting Rooms

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: JJ goes into labour with her second baby, on Christmas Eve. Aaron and Emily are the only two still in town, they rush to the hospital to support her where Aaron meets a lovely woman who's friend is also giving birth that same night.

Warnings: Pregnant JJ, mentions of throwing up, Meet Cutes, Love at First Sight | Canon rewrite: Haley doesn't die, JJ doesn't lose her baby in season 6, Emily is Alive and living with Aaron for the time being

Word Count: 2.7k

After losing Emily, JJ was able to rejoin the team. And thank god because Hotch was struggling to keep things afloat without both of them. Spencer was a mess, Penelope was needier than ever and Derek... Derek had this look of vengeance in his eyes that made Aaron worried what he did to Foyet look like a walk in the park.

It was scary.

The only one who was semi okay was Dave and that’s only because he’s better at hiding his feelings than anyone else on the team.

JJ was doing really good pretending to be distraught while knowing the truth that their good friend was safely tucked away in Paris for the time being. But something was off about her in the first few weeks that she was back… something he couldn’t quite place until she threw up on the jet.

He went back to pour himself a drink on their way home when he heard her in the jet washroom. He was instantly worried, he knocked on the door and asked if she was okay. She groaned, but let him in. He helped her up to her feet again, got her some tissues to wipe her mouth and stared at her with the most concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong,” she can’t help but smile. “I’m pregnant…”

He’s been so, so happy for her ever since. He keeps close to her side on cases, he keeps snacks in his bag for her and they double up in hotel rooms later on in her pregnancy just in case she needs anything in the middle of the night. She’s not one to go on early maternity leave, so starting at 27 weeks, he steps up his protectiveness and steps in when he knows she needs to go easy on herself. Wills grateful, he knows she’s in good hands with all the boys on the team and even Sever was really good at taking care of her before she transferred over to Andy Swan’s unit.

And much to everyone's surprise, Emily is back in their life when JJ hits 7 months pregnant and she’s so pissed that she can’t be involved in the takedown due to her baby bump. She wanted revenge, she wanted to make Ian Doyle pay… but getting to sit back at the BAU with Emily made up for it. Everything goes smoothly, they get Ian in custody, and they find his son-- sure the criminals all died at the trade-off, but at least Emily was safe from here on out.

The team is overjoyed that they get another Halloween with Emily. Another Thanksgiving, another Christmas and right as New Year's rolls around, JJ is due to bring in another member to their little family… they get two weeks off baring any emergency cases and so everyone goes their separate ways with the plan to come back right before new years to be there when JJ has her baby.

Spencer’s gone back to Vegas with his mom, Derek goes to Chicago with his mom and sisters, and Dave ends up in Long Island with his cousins and the few aunts he has left… Haley has Jack for Christmas this year, Penelope was volunteering at the local homeless shelter to give out Turkey dinner and so that left Emily and Aaron at his house— where she’s been living since coming back, with nothing to do.

And then the phone rings right before midnight. Moments before Christmas Day click's over.

“Hotchner?” He answers, expecting it to be a work call.

“Hey, JJ’s water broke and we’re at the hospital. Her mom has Henry, she’s like 5 centimetres now and she really wants you and Emily here,” Will rushes out.

“I need them!” She calls from the background.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he assures before hanging up. He quickly gets up from bed to put his pants back on and rushes out the door, down the hall, he knocks on Emily’s door.

“What?” She answers and so he pushes the door open. She has a book in one hand and wine in the other. “Sure, come in.”

“JJ’s water broke, she wants us there,” he says. “Come on, I’ll see you downstairs.”

He grabs the rest of his things while she hurries to get back into something appropriate for waiting in a hospital for god knows how long. But they were going to be there the whole time. They were last time, they would be this time and then again if she ever has a 3rd. Or 4th… but he doesn’t see that happening.

The drive over is nice, the roads are clear and it doesn’t look like it’ll snow again anytime soon. Emily’s quiet, bouncing her knee and picking at her fingers. She’s not good with other people being in pain, especially not the people she loves… she’s the first one in the room when they get there. She kisses JJ on the head and asks if she needs anything and JJ just smiles up at her.

“They gave me the good shit,” she holds up her hand with an IV in it. “I’m great.”

“You look good,” Aaron gives her a smile. He loves her like a daughter, he’s so proud of her and she does look amazing for a woman going through the worst pain imaginable.

Just before she can reply, a nurse shows up in the doorway, “I’m so sorry, but it’s after visiting hours which means we can only allow 2 family members in the room at a time…”

“I’ll go,” Aaron offers, knowing how much time with Emily would mean to JJ. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

“Okay,” JJ gives him a smile. “Thank you for coming, Aaron.”

“Anytime,” he smiles right back before heading out with a wave.

The waiting room is pretty empty, seeing as it is just after midnight on Christmas Day. Most people plan to have a baby around Christmas, avoiding it like the plague. JJ wasn’t due till New Year's, but, she has a habit of going into labour early. He sits alone in one of the pink pleather seats, there’s magazines on a rack in the corner and the news quietly on the TV screwed into the wall in the top right corner of the room. The chair he picked is perfect for watching the TV, however depressing the reports are, it keeps him company for the time being.

Another woman walks out into the waiting room 10 minutes later with a similar disappointed look on her face. “You get kicked out for not being family, too?” She asks him.

He nods, “I did. But it’s okay.”

“Can I sit beside you?” She asks and actually starts to sit well before he can nod. “Do you know what your friends are having?”

“Uh, no,” he lies. Keeping their privacy. “We just hope it’s healthy.”

“Same… but Cassy— my co-worker, she’s having a girl,” she explains. “Sorry, uh, I’m Y/N,” she sticks her hand out to shake his and make his acquaintance.

“Aaron,” he smiles back. “Was your friend due today?”

She nods, “Yeah, actually she was. We didn’t expect her to go in today because this is her first, sometimes they take a little longer but then her contractions started getting really bad a few hours ago.”

“This is my friend's second,” he shares. Finding it easy to open up to her. She’s nice, she doesn’t have a threatening bone in her body. And her smile is beautiful. “She actually went early both times.”

“Wow, lucky,” she laughs. “I really hope if I have a baby one day that it’s easy and quick…”

“You don’t have any kids?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don't even have a boyfriend… sorry, you didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles. “I uh, I have a son. He just turned 6, and he’s with his mom this Christmas.”

“Do you guys go back and forth?”

He nods, “It’s easier on him this way.”

“I bet,” she nods along, staring off at the floor, awkwardly losing the conversation there.

They’re silent for a few minutes and then he looks around to see where the vending machines are. “Are you hungry?”

“A little… but I used my cash on the parking pass,” she shares, lips pressed together, she’s not going to ask for food and she looks like she doesn’t want him to offer either.

“I’ll be right back, save my seat for me?”

“Okay,” she gives him another smile and he feels like blushing. She’s so pretty…

He gets a coffee from one machine and a bunch of snacks from the other, including a bottle of water and if she wants his coffee, he’ll just go back and get a second. He brings back his haul and places them on the little coffee table in front of their chairs, “Merry Christmas.”

She laughs again, “You didn’t have to do this?”

“We’re going to be here for a while, might as well eat up,” he shrugs, he really doesn’t mind. “Did you want coffee?”

She shakes her head, “No, I’m okay but thank you.”

“Take whatever you want,” he points to his collection of things. “There’s chips, candy, chocolate… they also had some egg salad sandwiches in there, if you prefer one of them?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she assures him. “Thank you, I’ll take some chips… but first, I’m going to see if a nurse has a remote for the TV, the news is so sad and boring lately.”

“Oh, thank you. I get enough of this stuff at work,” he sighs with a shake of his head.

She disappears then, over to the nurses station and comes back with a remote inside a plastic bag. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything is fine with me,” he assures.

“Okay,” she starts to flip through the channels. “What do you do at work?”

“I’m… I’m an FBI agent,” he tells her the truth. Feeling safe enough with her to be honest.

“Oh wow,” she’s impressed. “So is that why you didn’t tell me about what your friend is having?”

“What?”

“I teach kids, I can tell when someone is lying to me,” she explains with a smile. “Your voice went up a bit, you looked away from me… you know what she’s having.”

“I do. We’ve seen a few cases of people trying to hurt us specifically, I’m always weary to talk about my kid, her kids, any kids really because it shows people we have weak spots.”

“I feel you… I have to watch 23 kids for 8 hours a day and keep them all safe while school shootings are on the rise,” she explains.

“We don’t deal with a lot of those… but I see kidnappings often. At least 1 a month. It’s terrifying not being able to be with my son all day every day, but knowing there are teachers like you out there means a lot,” he gives her a smile.

“I would do anything for my kids,” she nods, the most genuine smile on her face as she stares into his eyes. “And I’m glad there are people like you out there who would be able to get the guy who puts me in a position to do anything for them.”

“And I get them all,” he assures her.

“I’m sure you do,” she smirks. Liking how cocky he is. “Do you wear a uniform like cops do or?”

“I typically wear a suit… and when I’m in the field a bulletproof vest— no suit jacket though.”

“Ah,” she likes the sound of that, looking him up and down. “And does your son have a mother?”

“He does… she’s with someone else, they’re all together at their new house right now,” he explains. “Scott is actually asking her to marry him tomorrow— well, today technically.”

“How weird is that for you?”

“Not really weird, I like him. He’s nice,” Aaron shrugs. “And he’s good with my son so I’m glad he has another father figure who’s home more than I am.”

“Your son sounds very lucky,” she smiles. “You clearly love him so much.”

“I really do,” he smiles right back. Something about her makes him so happy, the way she compliments him how she looks at him and how easy it is to just talk to her. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

She shakes her head, “Nope… don’t know when I’ll be leaving here though and I do need some sleep.”

“Yeah, same,” he forgot how long labour takes. “What about on New Year's?”

“I’m free,” she assures, leaning more into his space. “Are you asking me out, agent?”

“I am,” he nods, staring down at her lips and then back to her eyes. “You’re so nice and pretty… I’d like to get to know you more.”

“I’d like to—

“Aaron,” a voice calls out. Emily’s voice. “We have another niece.”

He’s quick to pull away and stand up, “already?”

She nods, “JJ is good at what she does… who’s this?”

“Oh, hi,” she stands up and puts her hand out to his friend. “I’m Y/N.”

“Emily,” she smiles. “Nice to meet you…”

“my friend is also having a baby tonight,” she awkwardly smiles. “But go, go meet this little girl. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I’ll come back out and see you before I leave?”

“sounds good.”

Emily walks him down the hall and stops at the door, “only 2 people are allowed in there at a time… I can go keep your friend company?”

“Don’t… don’t be weird. I like her, she’s sweet,” he whispers. “I don’t get to meet nice, normal women often, let me have this.”

“You can have her, I’ll go to Penelope’s,” she teases and he swats her arm. “Hey, okay, go in. I’ll wait out here.”

—

Penelope is the next one to show up, Will and Aaron go out for some bad coffee, giving the girls some time to talk and Y/N’s nowhere to be seen out in the waiting room. Her friend must’ve had her baby… and he never had the chance to get her number.

Visiting hours start again in a little while, meaning that they’ll all be allowed in her room soon and maybe, just maybe, he can have a peak into the other rooms to see her?

Before he knows it, JJ goes for a nap, Penelope and Emily head out to get some food and Will sits beside his wife with his hand over hers. A nurse is coming in to take the baby for tests and monitoring and Will lets Aaron accompany her wherever she goes. She doesn’t have a name yet, she’s just baby girl LaMontagne and she’s the cutest.

He waits outside the glass windows, watching all the nurses attend to all the babies wrapped up in their blue and pink blankets. He’s staring at them with so much awe and happiness, he doesn’t notice someone coming up beside him until she’s bumping shoulders with him.

“hey there…”

“Hi,” he beams a smile at her. “Did she have the baby?”

She nods, “Yeah, she’s right there,” she points at the cot beside JJ’s daughter.

“My friend's is to the right of her,” he coos. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is,” Y/N swoons. “God, now I want one even more.”

“You’d be a good mom,” he whispers. “I can tell.”

“Cause you’re a good dad or a good agent?” She teases.

“A bit of both… Do you still want to go out sometime?”

“I would,” she can’t believe it. She looks up at him in awe, “do you want my number?”

“I would love your number,” he says as he pulls out his phone and hands it to her. “I don’t go back to work until the 3rd, intense cases permitting… so I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner? Maybe take a walk around and see the lights and fireworks at midnight?”

“I’d really like that,” she swoons as she hands his phone back to him. “Even if we just ordered in and watched TV, I’d have fun with you.”

“You know, out of all my times in waiting rooms, this has to be my favourite,” he teases. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“Me too… and if it all works out, we have two little girls to thank for this,” she points at the two babies side by side, peaceful as ever.

“That we do.”

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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loveandmurders · 10 months

Note

Hey sorry I was wondering if you would write a fic about the Sinclair Brothers having twin sons or like maybe triplets. How would they treat them? I've seen sinclair dad's but only with girls and I would just like to them with sons

Thank you :)

-👾anon

Hello sweet love, thank you for this very cute request <3

Hope you'll enjoy this <3

HAPPY FAMILY (female reader x poly!Sinclair brothers)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of pregnancy sickness, of labour, mentions of a risky pregnancy for reader and the babies, overprotective parents, fluff.

Getting pregnant wasn’t part of your first plans.

You were living with your three lovers and enjoying yourself, doing chores around town and inside the house, having hobbies and sometimes helping to hunt down victims too. But you never saw yourself as a potential mother. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, it was just that you didn’t particularly feel ready for it. And you were a little bit worried to have kids in the middle of a ghost town with no hospital nearby…

You knew your men would be more than happy to have children though. Bo was a family man and he needed heirs. You sometimes even suspected him to have a breeding kink. Vincent also wanted children, to make sure the family business would never disappear. And he would love to teach them how to sculpt. Lester loved babies and he would adore playing with kids and showing them cool stuff to do.

One morning you felt a little bit sick and weak. You hadn’t been able to stand the smell of the eggs Bo was cooking either, almost making you throw up. The boys had no idea what was going on, but it worried them. They didn’t like to see you ill or hurt. You weren’t sleeping the greatest either, even in their arms. You tried to deny the possibility of being pregnant until your period didn’t show up.

After a few weeks like that, you asked Lester to buy you a pregnancy test and to not say anything about it to the twins. He was really excited but did his best to keep it to himself. He secretly gave it to you and you went to the bathroom. Of course the test came back positive and you stayed for a long time staring at it while being locked up inside the room. You didn’t know how to feel about it. Lester was putting things away in the kitchen but once he was done, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding you. He knocked at the door.

“Hey, baby” he whispered. You got up and unlocked the door for him. “So?” he asked, trying to read your face.

“Les… I’m pregnant” you said without truly realising it and a bright big smile appeared on his face, he even had happy tears in his eyes. He was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He had never been that happy before. He tightly hugged you before kissing you with fierce passion. You smiled against his lips.

“Ya need to tell the twins” he hummed and you nodded. You weren’t too sure how they were going to react but one thing was certain: they were going to overprotect you.

You sat the twins at the kitchen table while Lester was keeping an eye on Ambrose in case tourists came in. The two men were concerned about what you were going to announce because you had this serious expression upon your face.

“So, you know I’ve been a little bit under the weather lately and I can’t stand some smells anymore and all. And well… I’m pregnant” you finally said. You saw the same excitement lit up in their eyes than in Lester’s earlier that day.

“Ya what?” Bo asked with a smile, just to make sure he heard that right

“I’m carrying your child” you repeated and their happiness was communicating. Both the twins were soon all over you, kissing you and stroking your belly. You thought you were going to enjoy the pregnancy if they were all cuddly with you like that.

You had been right about one thing: the Sinclair men were impossibly overprotective and affectionate with you. One of them needed to always be with you. And they forbad you from doing a lot of the chores you used to. They were very gentle with you, trying their best to never do anything that could upset you. You had always felt like the most important person in their lives, but they proved it to you absolutely every day now you were pregnant.

You had been wrong on one thing: it wasn’t just one child you were carrying for them. You started to notice that when your belly got a lot bigger than it should have been for only one baby. You all agreed you needed to see a doctor. Bo was the one to come with you. He was so proud to play the father in front of the nurses and doctors. He was so proud you were having their babies. You all agreed you would never try to know which one of them was the biological father: they were all Sinclairs anyways.

Twins.

You were expecting twins.

And you almost wanted to kill the doctor when he told Bo you both would need to be very careful with you because it could be a risky pregnancy, especially because it was your first one. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and very seriously nodded at the doctor. He also asked questions, trying to know how to care about you and his children the best he could. You had never seen him act so grave before. When you arrived at the car, you could tell Bo was tense. He was concerned about you and he was concerned that the twins would know the same fate as him and Vincent.

“They’ll be okay” you told him

“Ya’ll be okay too, darl” he replied and you smiled “Ya’ll go at the hospital, and they’ll care for the babies. And if anythin’ happens… Ya know we’ll always chose ya over the babies” he continued and you grabbed his hand. You shushed him.

“Nothing will happen. It won’t be like you and Vince, I’m sure of it. And of course it's a more risky pregnancy than if it was one child, but I know we’ll be fine and happy” you tried to reassure him.

“Ya’re not the one supposed to reassure me. We’ll take an extra good care of ya” he promised and you laughed, which made him arch an eyebrow at you.

“Not sure how ya can be even more extra with me. Any of you” you tenderly smiled at him and he relaxed at your words. He would hate to know you didn’t feel cared for or loved enough.

“Anythin’ for ya, mamma” he hummed and you blushed at the nickname while placing a hand over your stomach.

Your water broke one morning as you were getting up to grab a glass of juice. Bo and Lester brought you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring about any kind of speed limit. Vincent was quite upset he couldn’t follow you there, but he wanted the best for the twins. He was so afraid that history was going to repeat itself. He didn’t want to create a small mask for one of his kids, he didn’t want to realise he created a monster with his brothers, he didn’t want you to be put into danger either. He knew that it had been very complicated for his mother and that she almost died. The three men had agreed that they would always choose you over the kids, no matter what. But it still would break their hearts to lose them.

You wished Vincent would have been by your side too, but you hoped you would soon be out of the hospital. You already wanted to be home, in your bed, surrounded by your five men. You knew life was going to be so good.

The labour went by a lot better than anticipated.

And the baby boys borned in perfect health conditions. You were exhausted but you asked to see them and Lester and Bo watched them and carried them with such happiness shining in their eyes. Your babies were already so loved. You even forgot about the killing and Ambrose being a ghost town. It was obvious that everything was going to be alright.

Lester left to call Vincent. His hands were too shaky to send a message and it would allow him to babble even if Vincent couldn’t verbally answer. Vinny was too emotional to even write either so it was alright and he was so grateful that everyone was doing good. He fully let go of his work to finish preparing the house. He wanted everything to be perfect so the babies couldn’t get hurt and you wouldn’t need to think about anything. Vincent wanted you to just rest like you deserved to.

At the hospital, you were too tired to notice how Lester or Bo were reacting with the babies, and a lot of their attention was on you to make sure you were alright. Bo praised you a lot for having done such a good work. And Lester sneaked little chocolates and snacks into your room for you.

It was when you finally reached back home, you realised how your husbands were reacting to their baby boys.

None of the men couldn’t stand hearing the babies crying. They instantly needed to reach for them and to cuddle them and appease them. They needed to protect the babies from any kind of traumas. They were instinctively caring fathers because they would rather die than reproduce what their childhood had been. No favourite, no scream, no abuse.

Vincent and Bo also refused to separate the baby boys; they wanted the twins to sleep in the same bed. They also tried their best to show the same amount of love to the two of them. They wouldn’t stand the idea that one of their kids would feel like they had a favourite. Lester seemed quite relieved about it. Your husbands often talked together late at night, when you were already resting, to decide what was the best to do for the boys.

You also often found Bo sleeping in an armchair as he had tried to watch over his boys. That way he was ready to take care of them the instant one of them would wake up.

Vincent was also the one taking care of them the most at night because he was a night bird anyways.

Lester was the one who knew how to make them laugh and to amuse them the most. He was good at appeasing them when they were crying too. He let his big brothers be overprotective, so he could be the fun dad. He was also finding them clothes and toys. He was already spoiling them rotten and you were powerless to prevent any of this.

Lester also loved to watch you feed the babies and he was often with you when that happened. And when he wasn’t there, it was Bo because the man wanted to make sure his babies and wife were doing alright. No need to say that Bo and Vincent were the most concerned whenever the boys weren’t eating as much as a few hours ago. You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at them.

“They’re all right” you always said

“But we need them to be strong boys, and for that they need to eat well!” Bo exclaimed as Vincent nodded in agreement with his own twin.

“They’ll be strong. Have you seen their fathers and mother?” you smiled

The advantage of living with three men was they could take care of the kids and of the house and let you rest. Bo loved to take care of you and to wash you too.

Vincent enjoyed spying on you when you were with the boys. He loved when you were talking to them with so much love in your words and voice. He was so relieved to know that his baby boys were going to grow up in a loving family, even though they were surrounded by killers.

Bo was calling you “mamma” pretty much all the time now.

Lester once asked you how it was to be the matriarch of the family and Vincent was a lot more obedient to you than he used to be. If Bo was calling for him, he wouldn’t move, but if it was you, he was there in a flash.

You became the head of the family and your husbands made it clear that they couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant again because “the twins needed siblings to be protective of”

Thanks to you, the brothers knew that even killers deserve a happy family life.

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #sinclair brothers x reader #sinclair brothers x s/o #sinclair brothers x you #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you

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moonlightazriel · 11 months

Text

Labour /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: As an act of punishment, his father made sure that he would never have his mate, but even Beron cannot change what was meant to be.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of giving birth and domestic violence

Word Count: 2,7K

Notes: Slightly inspired by Labour from Paris Paloma!!

Main Masterlist

His hand felt heavy on her waist, his proximity made her feel like she couldn’t breathe, she kept looking down, with polite smiles here and there but never words, they didn’t care about what she had to say anyway. Aeryn laughed again, the sound made her flinch slightly, subtle enough for the others not to notice, but enough for his fingers to press deeper into the fabric of her gown.

She excused herself, walking away from her husband and the members of the Autumn Court council, she stopped by an empty balcony, trying to steady her breathing. She touched her round belly, wanting to sense the baby in there, the only thing that kept her sane, the only reason to keep going.

“You look breathtaking tonight!” His voice was soft, warm as the fire running in his veins, she closed her eyes, swallowing deeply, her heart skipped a beat when she turned around, the lights from the ballroom illuminated his hair, making it shine brighter, he was wearing gold, it suited him so well. His eyes scanned her fragile figure, landing on the fading bruise on her cheek, the one that not even makeup was able to hide properly.

“It’s nothing.” She whispered as soon as his fingers touched her chin, forcing her to look up, at those beautiful eyes. “Eris, please just forget it.” She begged, he didn’t say a thing, just looked at her, the face that he loved so much, that sparked with life every time she spoke, now gone, replaced by a paler and skinnier version, dark circles under her eyes and that damned purple bruise.

“I’ll kill him, I don’t care that he’s my brother.” He said, resting his forehead against her, their breaths synchronizing, hearts beating as one, as he held his mate in his arms, she was taken from him, another form of punishment and control from his father. “You can’t keep living like this.”

“I can if that means I will see you.” Her voice broke as tears gathered in her eyes, those stolen moments were the only things that she treasured more than the baby growing inside her.

“Y/N…..”

“I should get going, Aeryn doesn’t like when I disappear for too long.” It took every bit of strength left in her to leave him there, the bond inside her chest screamed for her to come back. She quietly stood by her husband’s side one more time, not daring to look for him again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You know what’s funny dear wife?” Aeryn’s voice was close to her back as they entered their house. “It's that you think you’re so smart, pretending to be innocent and shit, but I can smell him on you, you dumb bitch.” His hand grabbed her hair, pulling harshly forcing her to look at him.

“Please Aeryn, think about the baby.” He laughed, the face of a demon looking back at her.

“Oh, I am..” He placed a hand on her belly and she swallowed dryly. “But Eris needs to understand that you’re mine despite what the Cauldron says.” He forced her upstairs, hand still tucked tightly in her hair and the other around her neck, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe, until he threw her limp body on the bed and left her there.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Beron smirked as his eyes landed on her neck and the visible handprints there the next day, as the family appeared for dinner.

“So, how’s the baby?” He asked directly to her, her throat was still sore and her voice was cracking when she spoke.

“Just fine, in a few days I will be able to know the gender.” Every word burned and stung, and he knew it. Eris clutched the fork in his hands tighter, his gaze fixed on her.

“I hope we get another strong boy, our lineage doesn’t need any more weakness.” The silence at the table was awful.

“I’m sure Aeryn will be happy either way, darling.” Lady Autumn said, her kind word comforting Y/N, who rested a hand protectively over her belly. “I saw your horses at the stable when we arrived, they look beautiful.” She kept going, changing the subject, Aeryn just started talking about his stallions, and everyone forgot Y/N for the rest of the night.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“It’s a girl.” The words sink deep in her guts, and her whole body started to shake in absolute panic, what he would do to her, to them? He made it very clear that he wanted a boy.

“You cannot tell this to anyone.” She held the healer's hand, the female looked Y/N in the eyes.

“But what if they ask?” Y/N’s breath was coming in short gasps as she feared for the tiny baby’s life.

“Lie, tell them it’s a boy, be convincible, I don’t know. But no one can know the truth.” The tears spilled from her eyes and the healer nodded, reassuring her that she would do everything to prevent them from knowing the truth.

She was still considering her options when the front door opened, Aeryn was sweaty and dirty from the hunting day, he didn’t even spare a glance in her direction before he ordered that she needed to prepare him a bath. Most of the time, he just treated her like a servant, so she got up and went to their bathroom to start preparing everything.

“What the healer said?” He asked as she rubbed a cloth on his back, she almost let it slip as she answered.

“A boy, she said it’s a boy.” He turned to her, a smile on his lips, the first genuine smile he ever gave her.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” He kissed her belly and she shivered. “Just a few more weeks and I’ll be ready to meet my boy.” The happiness in his tone made her even more nervous, he would kill them both when the truth came out.

That night he made sure they had a good meal together, he held her in his arms as they lay down to sleep, kissing her hair and thanking her for making him the happiest male alive. When she woke up, she knew what she had to do.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Eris couldn’t focus on the papers, the distress he felt since yesterday still making him a little afraid for her, he knew that was coming from her end of the bond, stronger than ever before. He ran a hand through his hair, the small wooden cabin in the middle of the forest was silent, the only place no one knew it existed, his safe haven.

He got up, going to the kitchen to make some tea, the heavy rain fell outside when he heard a knock, someone was frantically knocking on his front door, only a crazy person would be walking around in the rain like this, he cursed under his breath, and opened the door, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

“Can I come in?” She smiled weakly, she was soaked and held a bag, behind her, a horse waited by the fence. He stepped to the side, allowing her in.

“How did you find me?”

“I just had to follow that pull in my chest.” He grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom to run her a bath, she silently followed him, after he prepared the bath, he stepped outside, letting her take her time while he prepared something for her to eat. “It smells delicious.” Her hair was wet and she smelled like sweet herbs, a large sweater covered her 10 months belly.

“Then come eat.” He handed her a bowl with the warm stew, and she quickly started to eat. “What happened Y/N?” She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“It’s a girl!” That’s all that she needed to say, Eris was immediately by her side, pulling her in for a hug, she sobbed in his chest, the muffled sounds making his heart break.

“I always wanted a niece. Don’t let them take that happiness from you, especially since you always wanted a daughter.” He said, kissing her forehead.

“What will Aeryn do once he finds out the truth?” Her red eyes met his.

“Nothing, he won’t do anything cuz I won’t allow it.” He waited for her to finish eating before he led them to the only bedroom there, he made sure she was comfortable before he headed to the door.

“Can you stay?” She whispered in the darkness and the bond in his chest sang with life, warming his entire body, so he turned around, letting himself lay with her in his arms, feeling the happiest he had been in years.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Your father asked him to go on a diplomatic mission, so I took the chance and ran away in the middle of the night.” She said, stuffing her mouth with more scrambled eggs, Eris smiled at the sight, the one he have been wishing for 3 years.

Beron immediately knew about their bond, making an offer to her parents to marry her off with Aeryn in a way to punish him for working with the night court at the war, they sold her like an object and were more than happy to do so. So for three years, he had been longing to be with his mate, dreaming of having her in his arms like last night.

“You should rest after, or that baby girl might come before she’s supposed to.” She looked at him.

“Iris.”

“What?”

“Her name’s Iris.” He smiled at her.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He rested his hand on her belly and his forehead against hers.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her legs suddenly got wet, and she rose from her spot in the gardens, discarding the book she was trying to focus on, she started to breathe more quickly as she walked inside.

“What’s wrong?” He was immediately by her side and helping her to walk inside.

“It’s time.” His heart started to race against his ribs, and he helped her sit on the couch.

“Can you wait a little bit while I get a healer?” She nodded, trying to focus on her breath while the pain in her body increased, Eris winnowed away, leaving her alone.

“Push.” The healer demanded, and Y/N did, feeling her whole body being crushed, her back was pressed against Eris’s chest, while he held her, one hand massaging her belly and the other she held in a bone-crushing grip.

“You’re doing great darling, just push one more time.” He encouraged her, she was covered in sweat, a yell ripped from her gritted teeth, and her hand held him even tighter, he felt the pain, but compared to hers, it was nothing. Two hours and the baby still hadn't come out, he was starting to get worried.

Y/N kept pushing, feeling all her strength vanish as she did, her whole body felt weak but Eris's presence, his warm body against her, and his encouraging words, this made her push again, it was like she was being ripped apart, but suddenly the pain stopped and all she could hear was the light crying, the healers worked on the baby and then handed her a tiny package, from in between the blankets she could see the amount of red hair, the baby looked at her.

“Hi, Iris.” She whispered, and Eris could feel his chest filling with love, her love and his own filled his heart, the baby looked at him, and he thanked the Mother that he was seated, or he would’ve fallen to his knees at that moment.

“She’s so beautiful.” He let a finger caress her little cheek and he could swear that Iris smiled at him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later all they could do was stare at the baby, Eris didn’t leave her side for anything, always making sure all her needs were attended to. She was feeding Iris when he had to go back to court, Aeryn had discovered Y/N had disappeared and he was going crazy.

“Where is she?” Aeryn yelled, hands grabbing his shirt while he pressed Eris against a wall.

“How would I know? You’re the one not taking care of your wife.�� Aeryn’s fist connected to his eye and Eris felt his blood boiling, he grabbed his brother’s shirt, pushing him away, the fabric burned where he had touched.

“I will get that bitch back, she’s carrying my son.” Eris scoffed.

“Good luck finding her, idiot.” He left, heading to his father’s office, just to find it empty. His heart started to beat rapidly and he immediately winnowed back, the cabin was empty, and the smell of his father and his guards was recent.

Eris was freaking out, he had winnowed back to every spot he knew she could’ve been held hostage, but it was in the throne room he found her, her whole body had bruises and her face was swollen, she was almost unrecognizable, Beron and Aeryn were there, smirking while he held his daughter.

"It takes a weak female to produce another one.” Beron said, pointing to the baby and Eris stepped forward.

“Leave them alone, please.” He begged and their smirks just grew wider.

“You’re a disappointment, I don’t want to see your fucking face around anymore, but you’re welcome to this traitor execution tomorrow.” Beron, rose a hand, dismissing him and ordering his guards to remove him, he was thrown in the mud by the front door of the Forest House, his mind was spiraling with ideas and he winnowed again.

The knife was on his throat before he even stepped out of the flames, Rhysand and Cassian looked at him, so it was the Shadowsinger that held the weapon against him.

“What do you want?” He said in his ear, and Eris breathed, the image of Y/N still fresh in his head.

“Help.” Rhysand signaled for Azriel to put the knife down and he did. “You need to kill him. Tonight.”

“We know we still have to fulfill our part of the deal, but we need to prepare, I can’t just send someone to kill him now.” Rhysand said and he turned to Azriel, the only one who understood what longing for a mate meant.

“ I need you to kill him, he will kill my mate, please Azriel, please.” He didn’t care he sounded pathetic, the fear of losing her was bigger than the fear he felt of his father. “He will kill her and I don’t know what to do, I’m desperate.” Azriel looked at him, the coldness was replaced by a sparkle of empathy and he looked behind Eris, waiting for approval.

“You wait here, we’re doing it tonight.” The shadowsinger said and Eris didn’t give a fuck, he threw his arms around the Illyrian, pulling him in for a tight hug, and his tears soaked the warrior’s clothes.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome, High Lord.” Azriel said, gently pulling Eris away and disappearing through the shadows.

Rhysand’s inner circle listened patiently as he told their story, Morrigan held his hand the entire time, and by the end, he felt like he could really trust these people. He couldn’t sleep, waiting for Azriel’s return. He returned by the sunrise, her smell hitting him, he ran to the living room, where Azriel had just arrived with Y/N and Iris in her hands.

“You’re going to be okay, it’s over now.” Eris said as he held her closer, closing the distance between them, kissing her swollen lips with all the care in the world, her bruises were still very fresh.

“I love you.” She breathed and he felt his tears again.

“And I love you two so much. Thank you Azriel, I will be forever in debt to you.” The male just shook his head, leaving them alone.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The news of Baron’s death traveled fast, and those who knew or suspected that Eris was responsible for it, pretended they didn't, no one said a word, accomplices of an act of love.

“As the High Lord, you’re banished from the Autumn Court, if you’re seen in its territory once again, you will be executed.” His voice was commanding and powerful as he sentenced Aeryn, the male looked at him. “Consider this a kind gesture from your High Lady.” He said, leaving the cell his brother was being held.

Y/N was playing with Iris in their room, she looked at him, a smile on her lips, making her eyes shine brighter.

“Thank you for everything.” She said.

“I would do anything for my family.” He kissed her forehead and the baby in her arms, his family finally reunited as it was always meant to be.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azris #eris vanserra #high lord eris #eris x y/n #eris acotar #eris x reader #moonlightazriel #autumn court

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v3nusxsky · 3 months

Note

Hello! I love your work and was wondering if you’d write about larissa x femreader, r is pregnant and just fluff of larissa being extremely overprotective of r! Thank you and takr your time!!

Real mama bear

*Authors note~ I have a few pregnancy Larissa requests so I’m going to answer the asks separately as drabbles and then finally compile them into one big fic*

Trigger warnings~ pregnant fem reader? Overprotective?

Ever since that one night where you accidentally stumbled upon just how far Larissa’s ability could stretch when she was desperate for you, it awoken something in the principal, the instinct to get you pregnant overwhelming her. Of course, neither of you knew if she could, but you sure had fun trying.

Once your period didn’t arrive, you knew she’d succeeded but still took several tests just to be sure. Each and every one showing positive results causing you to sob. Happy tears of course, but nonetheless they alerted your wife to your possible distress. There was no time for a cute reveal, Larissa making it to the bathroom in record time instantly stopping in her tracks seeing the multiple tests on the counter. “Darling?” She murmured approaching you with extreme caution, “are you? Is that?” Her words stuck in her throat as you turned to face her, nodding with tears streaming down your cheeks.

From that second onward you immediately saw the change in your wife, it started with her hands holding your flat stomach as you leant on her chest, her whispered promises to protect you both with her life. Then you weren’t allowed to lift anything Larissa deemed too heavy, she would constantly try and make sure you were at maximum comfort, running off to get your cravings no matter what or when. Even walking through the halls she would wrap a hand protectively round your waist pulling you closer to avoid anyone accidentally hurting you or your child.

Things got worse when you began to show, Larissa seemed to panic more, wanting to make sure neither of her loves got hurt, even going as far as to refuse to make love with you because she didn’t want to hurt the baby. You protested of course, if that’s how the baby was put in there she wouldn’t hurt them, but Larissa would just reassure you she loves you both and doesn’t want either of you to be hurt. Eventually you settled on making a comment about pleasing yourself which in turn had your wife jealous and willing to break her new rule if you both were careful.

In the third trimester Larissa was on another level of protective, she didn’t want you to unexpectedly go into labour alone, so she ensured you’d never be alone. To the point where she wouldn’t let you even lift shopping bags anymore. “Rissaaaaa, I’m pregnant, not incapable” you whined in a protest of watching the blonde struggle to carry everything. “You’re growing our baby, that’s hard enough, go rest my darling I know your tired it will be okay.”

“You’re such a mama bear” you grumbled as you waddled yourself to the bedroom. You love Larissa with all your heart but you couldn’t help but wonder if the baby was a girl, she’d be in for a difficult time when it came to dating for sure.

Your daughter lay snuggled into your wife’s neck, as her nails trailed ever so gently over her little back. Larissa absolutely enamoured with the little being that seemed to be her double. “Rissa?” You murmured blinking to clear the sleep from your eyes. “Shh darling, you should be sleeping my love, you had a hard day” she murmured softly coming over to kiss your forehead without disturbing the newborn. “Mm she kay?” You mumbled voice still thick with sleep. “She’s perfect darling, a true little heartbreaker. Our sweet little Angel.”

The nurse came in to take your little one for a few tests and you immediately noticed Larissa being hesitant to hand your daughter over but did so eventually after a raised eyebrow from you. “Such a mama bear” you teased lightly before shifting and wincing in pain. “Darling, what do you need? What can i do?” Her immediate response was to manage what she could. “Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for protecting us”

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

Wedding Labour

pairing: Dad!Husb!Henry x Doctor!Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: doctor reader goes into labor at her and Henry's wedding? The twitter reaction format please? (Requested by @stormcloudss )

requested are open/Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/purplepinkstain: YOYO Y/N JUST WENT INTO LABOUR RIGHT AFTER HER AND HENRY GOT TO KISS AT THEIR WEDDING, SHES BEING RUSHED TO HOSPITAL AS SAID BY THE PAPS

>> @/superstrongleo: Just saw the released pics of Henry carrying her to their bridal car, that man looks stressed tf out, I guess it’s a given as it’s their first baby😭😭

@/lesseraf: Their baby boy is deffo a Cavill, always interrupting and coming early to things😭😭

@/nornor: I hate how the paps first instinct was to completely violate the couple’s privacy by spamming the poor woman with camera flashes while she’s in literal labour. Wtaf is wrong with you guys?!

>> @/flawlessfrank: Tell me about it. Henry just released a statement that he’s taking legal action because of the stress it caused Y/n, I love how he made a whole 30 minute video explaining the consequences of what could have happened to his family

@/chrisevansgorl: Ok but that photo of Y/n posted by Henry where she’s holding their baby in a hospital bed in a hospital gown, BUT MISS GIRL STILL HAD HER WEDDING VEIL ON?! QUEEN SHIT ONLY!!!

@/DailyTelegram: BREAKING NEWS!! VERY newlywed Henry and Y/n Cavill, welcome their baby boy ON THEIR WEDDING DAY!

@/onedirectionsd: Now their wedding anniversary is their baby’s birthday🥹🥹

>> @/HenryCavill: Not as good as you think, no more anniversary holidays for us two

>>> @Henryfans334: PLEASE KING HE HAS ONLY BEEN BORN FOR ABOUT 3 DAYS GIVE THE WEE MAN A BREAK😭😭

@/thekingofkings: Henry’s mum’s post is so cute😍 The photo of Henry and Y/n cuddling in her hospital bed is the cutest thing ever, and their baby Charlie in the bassinet next to them

>> @/Y/nCavill: I kicked him out of the bed soon after, he’s a bed hogger of a husband

@/pinklemonade: omg the video of Henry scratching an itch that Y/n had while she’s breastfeeding has me pissing myself with laughter. It’s the way she was twisting and turning trying not to annoy Charlie while trying to itch her back, and Henry just pulls her closer by her waist and scratches her back under her shirt without even asking. Goals.

@/givemeadam: Henry is too fricking funny. Why is this man buying his newborn a Geralt cosplay already😭 Then has the audacity to say he looked better as Geralt

>> @/HenryCavill: Gotta prepare my little man for the harsh world out there

@/Hollycrisin: Nah because Y/n’s wedding dress got all bloody, that shit was branded expensive too

>> @/Y/nCavill: Tell me about it, it’s still at the dry cleaners 😭

@/galaxyrumbel: It’s crazy how good they jumped into parental roles for reall, Y/n is a complete supermom and Henry’s turned into the most overprotective beat

@/user183737379: I’m just glad her water broke after the actual ceremony, at least their wedding didn’t have to be postponed😀

>> @/asuper: i know i’m happy they got to say “i do” before the arrival

@/slinkyleopard: omg the leaked photos of Y/n and Henry's wedding photoshoot, THEY INCLUDED BABY CHARLIE AND KAL😭😍 The one photo of Charlie just laying on top of Kal while they’re both asleep, it’s everything I need in life

@/HenryCavill: Y/n and I want to come on here ourselves and say I will be taking a break from projects for the foreseeable future. This is to focus on us and our (developing) family. We thank you so much for all of your support, and we will continue to update you on our social medias ONLY. Anything released by the tabloids is false and we will not stand for rumours to fly around. Lots of love Henry and Y/n xx

@/trueferalis: Ok but Miss Y/n is super slay, the photo she posted of her going back to work as a paediatrician is so girlboss, SUPERMOM AND DOCTOR

>> @/HenryCavill: So proud to be her man and daddy of our baby 😋

@/kinkydhrine: I can’t believe it’s been two years since Charlie was born the same day as their wedding, did anyone else swoon at the video Henry posted of them all on holiday at Bora Bora. Baby Charlie and Y/n on a big inflatable flamingo is everything, his tiny squeals 🥹🥹 Then Henry in the background of the video whistling at Y/n 🫣🫣

7 Weeks Later

>> @/ririezdueh: You called it. They’ve just had another pregnancy announcement, HOPEFULLY NOT ANOTHER WEDDING ANNIVERSARY BABY 😭😭

———/

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaay @fdl305 @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

#romance #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot

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bella-rose29 · 1 month

Text

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 12

it's here everybody

I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everybody that has read and enjoyed along with me, whether that was in the form of reblogging with commentary, leaving a comment or kudos, or even if you just read it and moved on, and to everyone who binge read after the whole thing came out, or stumbled across it months after it finished, thank you to you too. this has most definitely been a labour of love, very self-indulgent at most points, and I have thoroughly enjoyed writing every word (although maybe not so much when Steph was being a grade-A Bitch), and I hope you enjoy this last part!

while the main work of this series is over, keep an eye out for holiday specials (bc I can't just let go of my schmoopies forever)!

Warnings: swearing, mildly spicy bit near the start, you might cry from this being the finale (I did lol), flustered/awkward lockwood, oh you also might cry from the part in the middle/end because I'm evil and can't let you have a fully happy ending (@ the anon who requested this hopefully this satisfied the masochistic urge hehehe), if I forgot anything it's bc I'm tired while I write this

Word count: 6.3k

series masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything? It’s a long way to go if you leave something behind,” Ben said, peering in on Anthony and Y/n where they sat in their loveseat.

They had packed pretty much everything but their wash bags (which they would need tomorrow morning) and pyjamas (which they would wear tonight), and now they were cuddled up in front of the fire that was roaring in the hearth. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve checked and double checked so if we leave anything behind then we’ll just have to make do.” Her father nodded, smiling at them before ducking back out the room. Everybody else was gathered in the kitchen, making drinks and getting dinner (leftovers and an assortment of deli), which meant that Y/n and Anthony had the living room to themselves. “You alright?” she asked, voice quiet. He hummed in answer, the low sound vibrating in his chest and through her head where it laid on his shoulder.

“I’m more than alright, darling. Looking forward to being home again, though. Not that I haven’t enjoyed the last few days,” he hurried to add. “I just miss sleeping in my own bed.”

“I get that.” There was a momentary lull in the conversation, both of them basking in the warmth of the fire and each other. “Wait. I feel like we should probably… talk about when we get back? And what… what we’re going to do about…” she trailed off, waving her free hand between them.

“No, you’re right. We should… we should definitely talk about that.” Another lull, although this one was slightly more tense. “I mean-” Anthony cut himself off with a huff, and she felt him clench his jaw from where she was nestled underneath it. “If you wanted, you could move out of the attic? Obviously if you’d rather stay rooming with Lucy then that’s fine too, I just-”

“Where would I go if I wasn’t in the attic?” She cut him off when he started to ramble, lifting up her head to frown at him. He flushed a delightful pink that wasn’t too dissimilar from the socks he had on, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before turning even more red and answering.

“In… in my room? It’s a big bed, although not quite as large as the one here, and I’ve got extra pillows if you wanted. But if you would rather stay upstairs then that’s fine too.” He was fidgeting, his leg bouncing and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Y/n smiled softly.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind, darling.” The blush stayed on his cheeks but his worry eased. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you there.”

“Then… when we get back tomorrow, can I just go straight to bed with you?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but mirror his smile, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“Ew, go suck faces somewhere else.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Will’s teasing tone, flipping her middle finger up at him and putting it away swiftly when Tom walked in, already snacking on the food on his plate. She hadn’t heard Will come in, which was quite the feat given how loudly he was chewing, but he was smiling behind his comments as he settled into an armchair. He was ecstatic that he could openly tease his younger sister now (much to her chagrin) and had wasted no time in doing so. “Bet you two are glad you’re going home?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to be back in London, I think,” she replied, shifting around in Anthony’s lap to face the room a little more. “And I miss the others. I did call George the other day after we booked our train tickets, just to let him know what was happening and when we’d be back, but the reception is so bad up here that contacting any of the others has been tricky.” Lucy had been somewhere near them visiting Norrie, but her signal had been awful too. Y/n hadn’t seen the point in calling when mostly it was just static.

“I didn’t realise you’d called George,” Anthony said.

“Oh, yeah. I knew he’d be at Portland Row so I figured I should let him know why we weren’t there. He said he wasn’t gonna spend the entire holiday with his family because of the whole ‘your siblings are engineers, so why aren’t you’ thing that always happens.” George had been the first friend that Y/n had opened up to, despite sharing a room with Lucy. They had been researching for a case together in the Archives late into the night, early on after Y/n had first joined the agency, and something about the calm atmosphere and rustle of the papers had meant that when George asked about her backstory in a tea break she had spilled it all. Lucy had been next, also late at night while the boys were on their own case, and Holly not too long after. But George had been the first, and the two of them had been close ever since. He’d opened up to her about his own family, and they’d found they had more in common than they had originally thought.

“Well, it’s a good job you called. I imagine he would have been quite worried about us.”

“Us? No, George was definitely only worried about me. He didn’t once ask about you.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just telling the truth, it’s not my fault your ego can’t handle it,” Y/n teased. Anthony scoffed, fighting the smile that was breaking through.

“Sure, Schmoopie.” Her responding glare would have been enough to make even Barnes shrink back, but Anthony could see that it lacked any heat when directed at him.

He did yelp when she jabbed him in the side though, and her grin turned devilish.

~~~

The next morning, Anthony was awake before Y/n was.

At some point in the night she had obviously grown cold, as the duvet was bunched up more on her side than it was his, leaving most of his body out in the not-so-warm air of the bedroom. He didn’t mind, though. Not if it meant that she was happy.

He didn’t often get the chance to admire her in the morning, not without her knowing he was doing it (not in a creepy way, it just meant that he often got caught and she often made fun of him), so he took his time now.

He didn’t think he would ever get over how gorgeous she was.

There was barely any light in the room, but from what little he could see she looked like an angel, especially in the t-shirt of his that she kept stealing. He didn’t mind that either, mostly because somehow she made it look so much better than he ever could. Anthony wasn’t a fool (although given his behaviour over the past few years there was definitely a strong argument against him), and he was well aware that Y/n knew the effect her wearing his clothes had on him. He’d had to excuse the two of them the other day when she’d come downstairs for breakfast wearing his grey hoodie and her pyjama shorts, and when they reemerged from their room nobody commented on the flushed faces or the messy hair of either of them (Y/n had stayed in the hoodie, too). She’d teased him mercilessly since finding out, and now he finally had an opportunity to gaze lovingly at her without her poking fun at him.

“Morning.” Damn, he must have cursed himself and made her wake up.

“Good morning, darling.” He smiled at her, wedging his arm under his head while he watched her wipe the sleep from her eyes and turn to face him. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah. Like a log. You been awake long?” She reached out for his hand where it rested on the pillow between them, and he gladly let her thread her fingers through his.

“Not really. Any good dreams?” There was a pause where she flushed, and Anthony’s curiosity only grew when she shook her head.

“Not… not that I can think of.” She was avoiding his eyes, which meant she was lying. He smiled, huffing a laugh before shifting his weight.

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Prick.” He laughed properly at that and propped himself up on an elbow. Y/n had covered her face with her hands to hide the rapidly growing flush, and she was shrinking further into the mattress with every passing second. “It wasn’t even- we were just, like… in a field.”

“What?”

“We were just having a picnic in a field. It was sweet.” She still hadn’t moved her hands so Anthony had to strain a little to hear what she was saying, but the amusement was very present in his voice when he next spoke.

“So why are you acting like we were doing something else?” There was another pause, and he raised his eyebrows. “Were we doing something else?”

“It might… have ended up that way…”

“I see,” he said, moving again to prevent the arm under his head from falling asleep. Instead of lying back down, however, he pushed himself further up, placing one hand beside Y/n’s head and the other at her waist, slotting a leg between her thighs. He felt her shiver in response, and he gently pried her hands away from her face, lacing his fingers through hers and holding their joined hands in position on the other side of her head.

“Anthony,” she whispered, lifting her hips a little and brushing her nose against his.

“Yes?” He could feel her breath on his mouth, could feel it hitch when he let go of her hand to trail his own down her arm slowly, then tracing a path down the side of her body to her thigh. She didn’t answer him, instead reaching up to grab the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the hair there (god, he loved it when she did that) and kissing him in a way that reminded him of honey. It was long and slow, both taking their time to bask in each other, although if she kept tugging lightly at his hair in the way that she was then he might have to speed the pace up a little. It was ridiculous, the power she held over him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If she was an angel, then he would gladly fall into hell a million times over for this little piece of paradise he was experiencing right now.

He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, kissing, laughing softly when the t-shirt got stuck around her head, tangling limbs but never taking it further than a few bold touches just in case someone walked in with the morning tea, but it felt like barely a few seconds and eternity at the same time.

When Ben did eventually knock on the door, Anthony went to answer, collecting the teas with a smile and a thank you before kicking the door closed. He smiled down at Y/n where she lay in bed, eyes closed to the light of the lamp that had just been flicked on, and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. The action had her smiling immediately, and Anthony felt his heart jump in his chest.

They spent most of the next hour lazing in bed, trading more kisses and soft touches before their stomachs started complaining and they were forced to get up and have breakfast.

A million times, Anthony mused as he watched Y/n get stuck in her (his) jumper. A million times and more, and he had definitely fallen for her already.

~~~

“Alright, you’re absolutely sure you have everything?”

“Yes, Mum, just like I was the previous six times you asked.”

“I just want to be sure! Who knows when we’ll next see you!” The statement hung in the air for a few seconds, the words sinking in and nestling into everybody’s minds.

“Soon,” Y/n said, her tone decisive. “As long as Steph and Linda aren’t there.”

“I think I can live with that,” her mother grinned. Anthony and her father had been pulling their bags out of the car and were just now rejoining the gathered family members. Her parents were here, as was Will, but everybody else had stayed behind. They had said their goodbyes back at the house, with promises of phone calls for Nana Jean and Gramps and games of whatever Tom liked the most when she next saw him. Olivia had pretended to be indifferent about her sister leaving, but had squeezed just that little bit tighter when Y/n had said that she really needed to go. Y/n had pretended not to notice the slight shine to Olivia’s eyes, opting to ruffle her hair and laugh instead. Sam and John had wrapped her in hugs so tight she thought she might pass out before even stepping foot outside the house, and had left one last remark of ‘if you hurt her, we’ll kill you’ with Anthony before waving them off cheerfully as though they hadn’t just threatened murder.

“Right then, Squeak. How long ’till your train?” Will asked, placing an arm over her shoulders and drawing her into his side.

“About thirty minutes?”

“Why do you always get here so early? You could have had another cup of tea!”

“Uh, no, we couldn’t. Have you got any idea how much can go wrong with trains?!” Will just laughed at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re ridiculous, Squeak.”

“You love me anyway though.”

Their parents stepped over then, having finished talking to Anthony about… whatever they had been talking about (she had been too busy with her conversation with Will to hear), and wrapped her in a teary hug. “You promise you’ll come back sometime next year?” her mother choked out, pulling back and holding her daughter by the shoulders.

“Promise, Mum.” Her father hugged her then, letting Will comfort Emma.

“I love you, Y/n. You’ll call us too, won’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied, huffing a laugh. “I already said I would about a hundred times.”

“We’re just making sure! Right. Off you two go, then, or you’ll miss your train.”

“Ben, they’ve got half an hour.”

“I know that, Emma, but what if something goes wrong?”

“Dad, please don’t jinx it. I’ll let you know when we’re back, alright?” She moved away, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and frowning when she felt Anthony’s hand already there. “I can take my own luggage, Ant.”

He shrugged. “I know. But I’ve got two hands and you have the tickets.”

“Your logic doesn’t make much sense; I also have two hands. And anyway, you could have your bag and your ticket, and I could have mine!”

“Just- just let me take your luggage, darling.” How could she say no when he was looking at her like that? She relented her grasp on the handle, casting him a mock glare before turning to look at her family one last time.

“Have a safe journey, you two,” her mother said with a smile.

“Yeah, get back home safe,” Y/n responded, starting to move towards the station entrance. She could hear Anthony behind her, the suitcase wheels dragging on the concrete while his repurposed kit bag bounced against his side.

“You alright?” he asked once they were on the train, bags safely stowed.

“Yeah. Looking forward to being home again.” It was funny, really. The last time she had been on a train she would have scowled at herself for calling Anthony Lockwood’s house her home, but now here she was, doing it without a second thought.

“What are we going to tell the others?”

“Well… it’ll be late when we get back, right? I mean it’s already three o’clock now and it’s getting darker, so maybe by the time we get in they’ll be in bed? Or on a case if they managed to get a client. We could just do what you said and see how long it takes them?”

“I think you coming out of my bedroom in the morning would be a pretty big hint, darling. But I do love a game,” he grinned, already thinking about their friends’ reactions. “How do we think they’re going to respond?”

“Not a clue. George will probably say ‘I told you so’ or something.”

“Was… was that meant to be an impression of George?”

“Yeah?”

“Darling, no offence, but I think you might be worse than me.”

“Arsehole.”

~~~

It was dark when they got back, although that wasn’t a surprise given it was the middle of winter.

Anthony had unloaded the bags from the taxi, smiling and thanking the driver with both words and payment, and had turned around to see Y/n stood on the pavement. She looked exhausted, rubbing her eyes and yawning while she waited for him to finish up. The gate stood locked, and 35 Portland Row seemed empty, the windows as dark and grey as the sky.

Weird, he thought. Maybe they’re out on a case.

He shouldered his bag and pulled up the handle on Y/n’s suitcase just as the last of the noise from the taxi leaving died off and the road went quiet. Then he heard a scream that was so piercing he dropped the luggage and clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as though it would save his hearing. A ghost? Only Visitors could make a sound that fear-inducing, and if the chill that crept along his spine was anything to go by he would need some sort of weapon. Maybe their best bet was to get inside the house, so he reached for his keys and tried to block out the screaming.

His keys.

Shit, where were his keys? He looked up to see if Y/n was alright, if she had maybe had the wise idea to remove herself from possible danger before he did, and his heart stopped in his chest.

The gate was still closed, and 35 Portland Row still empty and cold. Somehow it felt a whole lot darker than it had just a few moments ago, and Anthony belatedly realised that it might have something to do with the rapidly spreading blue tinge on Y/n’s arm. He couldn’t see any Visitors nearby, or any death glows that might have been stepped on by either one of them to provoke an attack, but all of that had happened so fast that he didn’t have time to process any of it. “Darling? Darling look at me.” He couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice when he spoke, memories of another time a girl he had loved died in much the same way, and he refused to let that happen again. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? There’s some adrenaline shots in the hallway, I just need you to stand up for me, darling. Y/n, please. Please, just stand up.” Why was she so heavy? Why was he so heavy? Was this what dying felt like?

“Anthony?”

Why did her voice sound so far away? No. He couldn’t let this happen. He tried to lift her again, but somehow she was even heavier than before. Maybe he was tired, or too weak.

“Anthony, what’s going on?” Her face was blurring and he realised that it was because he was crying, but his hands were too weighted to lift and wipe the tears away.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay.”

“Anthony!”

That had been louder, as though she were talking right into his ear, and he gasped for air and sat bolt upright.

“Anthony, are you okay? You looked-”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes blinking back the harsh light that threatened to turn him blind.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I can’t… I can’t help you,” his breath was coming faster now, and vaguely he noted that there was someone nearby offering him water. His gaze was solely fixed on Y/n, though, and-

Wait. Hadn’t she been on the floor? Now she was on his left where before she had been on his right and in his arms, and her arms were the colour they always were, no blue tinge in sight. “Anthony, what were you dreaming about?”

He stared at her, partly in realisation that none of it had been real, but mostly in disbelief that she wasn’t dying in his arms in front of their home. “What?” The train carriage came back into focus, checkered seats and wooden table forming solid shapes in his line of vision. The view out the windows was barely visible from how dark it was.

“You were asleep, and then you started… I don’t know. Twitching, I guess? And you were talking but I couldn’t make it out but you sounded really sad, and-” He cut her off by launching himself at her, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face in her neck and holding his breath. “Ant?” She paused, slowly bringing her own arms around him and shifting position so that she was more comfortable. “Are… are you breathing right now? I’m gonna need you to breathe for me, Ant, can you do that?”

He did, and immediately choked on a sob. It hadn’t been real, and she was alive. They sat there for a long time while he cried, and then even longer after his tears had subsided and he was just sniffling into her neck. He didn’t know whereabouts they had been when he first woke up, but Y/n finally moved him off of her the station before theirs. “Sorry, just need to shake my arm out. You’re heavier than you look, you know.” They both sat up, and Anthony went to take a tissue out of his coat pocket. “Here,” Y/n whispered, reaching up to wipe his face with her sleeve. Her hands were gentle, barely-there touches on his cheek, but Anthony needed more. He pushed her hand to his face, focusing on the pressure and the warmth of her skin, and the callouses that had built up from being an agent all these years. A few seconds later he felt her forehead against his, and her breath on his mouth (her breath was warm too), and her other hand slipping into his hair, holding him as close as possible. “You’re okay. It’s okay. We’ll be back soon, alright? I think it’s only about ten minutes until we get to our station and then we can call a taxi and go home.”

“Okay.” Whoever it was that had been offering water earlier had left the bottle on the table, and he reached for it now, twisting the cap and downing the liquid. “We’ll be careful once we get out though, right? Because it’s dark and there could be Visitors, and we don’t have our rapiers, and-”

“Anthony, we will be absolutely fine.” Her tone was firm and she pulled his chin up to stare directly in his eyes. “The taxi will drop us off right outside, and if you like I’ll take the keys and get the kettle on. Or you can do that and I’ll get the bags, or we can get our own bags and go up together. Whichever you feel most comfortable with, yeah?” When he nodded she sighed, letting go of his chin and holding his hand instead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here, alright?”

“I know. Thank you.”

He didn’t let go of her hand until they were safely back in 35 Portland Row, front door shut and locked and bags in his room ready to be unpacked in the morning.

~~~

Lucy Carlyle had had the best sleep of her life.

She’d come back from seeing Norrie the day before, the freak snowstorm keeping her from getting back sooner, and the journey had been so horrific she’d passed out the moment she got into bed. Screaming children and drunk men had populated the carriage, creating so much noise that she hadn’t been able to go to sleep on the train, and she was starting to look like Lockwood with the bags under her eyes.

Now it was nearly midday, and she had managed to crawl out of bed, sling on some clothes, and stumble down the stairs to put the kettle on for some tea.

Given how late Lockwood and Y/n must have got back last night (it had been after her, and the clock in the hall had shown a time that was both far too late and far too early for her liking), she had been expecting them, as well as George, to be in bed. But then again Y/n hadn’t been in the attic with her when she’d woken up just now (although her vision had been rather blurry, so she totally could have missed a whole human being in the room), so maybe she was already downstairs?

What she hadn’t expected was walking in to the kitchen to see both Y/n and Lockwood having a normal conversation (well, as normal as conversations in this house could go, she was quite sure they were discussing frogs), in which neither of them was glaring or looking like they would commit a felony at any given moment. Lockwood was leaning back against the kitchen sink (looking very snug in his grey hoodie and comfy trousers), mug of tea in one hand while the other braced his weight on the counter, and he was chatting happily to Y/n (who was wearing what looked suspiciously like one of Lockwood’s jumpers). She was sat at the kitchen table, cupping her tea with both hands, and the smile on her face, Lucy realised with a start, was genuine.

“… Morning?” She started, pushing the kitchen door open and moving further into the room, eyeing her friends.

“Morning, Luce,” Lockwood replied, taking a large gulp of his tea. He didn’t seem fazed by the incredibly strange situation that was happening right now (was this some sort of a fever dream? Maybe she was hallucinating from sleep deprivation or something), and Lucy nearly poured the still-hot water on her hand instead of in the mug. “Sleep alright?”

“Uh… yeah. What time did you two get back last night?”

“Oh, I don’t even know,” Y/n started. “Definitely past two in the morning, but we were so tired we didn’t really look at the time.”

“Right.” There was a pause while Lucy finished making her tea, and as she took an experimental first sip she regarded them over the top of her drink. “So… Y/n. Did you just collapse on the sofa downstairs or something? I didn’t hear you come in last night.” The other girl froze for a moment, and if Lucy wasn’t a trained operative then she probably wouldn’t have noticed it since her panic was almost instantly replaced by forced calm.

“Oh, uh…” she glanced at Lockwood, who made some sort of face in reply. “… no?”

“Huh, you must have been quiet, then. That or I was sleeping like a rock.”

“Sure,” Y/n said, a weird look on her face. She was smiling, but almost like she knew something that Lucy didn’t, and that puzzled her. A chuckle sounded from the corner of the room, and under a blue and white striped tea towel, Skull had woken up.

“You’re really going to take that for an answer? She didn’t even pick one!” Lucy frowned, begrudgingly realising that Skull was right. Y/n hadn’t really answered her question, and what had happened at her parents’ house the last couple of weeks for her to stop trying to kill Lockwood by glaring at him?

As nonchalantly as possible she asked “So you were quiet? Or was I sleeping like a rock?”

“Um… I was quiet?” She didn’t sound very sure, and Lucy’s suspicion was growing at the same rate that Skull’s grin was.

“I know for a fact she didn’t make it all the way up the stairs last night,” he said, some of the sludge in the jar forming comically large eyebrows that waggled around. Now that was interesting. Why would Y/n say she’d been quiet coming in if she had never come in in the first place? Lucy was just about to ask that very question when George trudged into the kitchen, oversized shirt thankfully covering what his lack of trousers didn’t. He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinting at the people gathered.

“… What’s going on? Y/n’s not trying to murder Lockwood.”

“Why is that a thing?! I’m not always trying to kill him!”

“In fairness, it was a regular occurrence, dar-” Lockwood’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. Lucy saw his jaw clench, unclench, then clench again while he flitted his eyes closed in some sort of silent prayer.

“Yeah…” George said. “This is weird.” He stood at the head of the table, lifting a hand to scratch at his side like a monkey. “Dare I ask how your Christmas was?”

“I mean… Steph and Linda were there, but after I slapped Steph and Mum shouted at Linda they left.” Lucy stood straighter in shock, pushing off the counter she had previously been leaning on. George was similarly surprised, but Lockwood? Lockwood was grinning with pride.

“You slapped your cousin?!” George exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. “Like, you properly hit her?!”

“I mean… yeah?” Y/n replied, taking a sip of tea.

“It was awesome,” Lockwood added, and Lucy and George shared a look.

“You think he would have said that before?” Skull piped up again. “I certainly don’t. Something happened while they were away, that’s for sure. And I know what it was!” He said the last part in a sing-song voice, face turning over in the jar.

“Yeah, well you could just tell me,” Lucy muttered, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry. Skull’s talking.”

“Where’s the fun in that! Better to watch you figure it all out on your own!”

“Bastard.”

George had started making his own tea, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and giving it a good whack when it didn’t immediately start working. Satisfied that his breakfast was underway, he busied himself with his drink. “So Y/n… how come your suitcase was in Lockwood’s room?” he questioned, turning and pushing his glasses further up his nose. Lucy tried to disguise her shock, but that resulted in a small smirk instead, her eyebrows rising while she regarded her friends.

Lockwood answered. “She didn’t want to lug it all the way up the stairs, not with the time being what it was. It just… hasn’t been moved yet.” Y/n nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and cast a worried glance towards Skull.

“So Y/n and her suitcase slept in Lockwood’s room?” George asked, still probing for answers. He had a little smile on his face, one of those ‘I figured it out’ ones that when she had first joined the agency, Lucy had mistaken for ‘I’m better than you’ smirks. She wasn’t far behind him, and if she hadn’t already figured it out then the reactions of Y/n and Lockwood were enough to confirm her suspicions.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Y/n said, sipping her tea. There was a brief pause in which Lockwood nodded, smiling softly at her, and then it set in. Lockwood looked like he had malfunctioned, the cogs in his brain turning but not producing any kind of reaction other than a blank stare with confused eyes. Y/n choked on her mouthful of tea, spitting some of it back out into the mug and resting it on the kitchen table while she coughed. Immediately Lockwood’s brain started functioning properly again, and he quickly put his own tea down and went to help Y/n, fussing over her like a worried parent.

Skull was chuckling in the corner again, and Lucy couldn’t help but join in. George laughed too, his mirth only growing when Lockwood and Y/n turned and glared at him. “Alright,” Lucy started. “Why was Y/n sleeping with Lockwood?”

“I wasn’t sleeping with him!” the other girl spluttered, apparently thinking that Lucy had suggested that the pair of them had had sex, and George was now nearly doubled over with laughter. Lockwood smirked, and before Lucy could protest he was already opening his mouth.

“I mean not last night, but there were plenty of times at your parents’ house where we-”

“OH MY DAYS NO, STOP-” Y/n got up, all but tackling Lockwood to the ground and slapping her hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing his sentence. Lockwood went down like a sack of potatoes, and the ‘oof’ he let out on impact had made Lucy snort into her mug. “They don’t need to know that, idiot,” she whispered, but since sound echoed in the kitchen Lucy and George could still hear her, even after the toaster popped loudly.

“How long have you two… been like this?” Lucy asked, waving her hand in their direction where they now laid on the floor. Lockwood tried to talk but Y/n’s hand was still firmly keeping his mouth shut, and while he was attempting to prise himself out of her grip she was apparently too strong. Lucy didn’t want to think about how much his jaw would hurt afterwards; she had had pillow fights with Y/n that had ended with trips to the medical cabinet because the pair of them got too ambitious with their hits.

Y/n answered, still attempting to maintain some dignity. “On the floor? A few seconds-”

“Let me rephrase,” Lucy cut her off, putting her finished mug of tea down on the counter with a decisive thud. “How long have you two been together?” Y/n stilled, giving Lockwood time to wriggle out of her grasp and glance awkwardly between his gathered colleagues. He pushed himself to sit back against the kitchen cabinets, one arm resting outstretched on his knee while the other scratched at his neck. He was nervous, then. He looked like he wanted to answer, but he was still shifting his gaze between them all.

“Uh…” Y/n started. There was a pause, and then she sighed. “Dammit.” She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled five pound note. Lucy frowned for a moment, wondering what the hell a fiver had to do with this situation, then huffed in surprise when it was passed very begrudgingly to Lockwood. He looked very pleased with himself, accepting the money without moving much, hand outstretched to catch the note between his index and middle fingers.

“What was that for?” George asked, although he’d just taken a mouthful of his toast so it came out more muffled.

“Lockwood said we wouldn’t last a day keeping it secret from you both, and I bet that we could.” Y/n shrugged, shuffling around on the floor to sit between Lockwood’s legs. He didn’t get the message at first, too busy stuffing the money into his hoodie pocket, but after a sharp jab to his thigh he moved, wrapping his arms around her waist and complaining when Y/n shoved her elbows into his middle.

“I swear you do that deliberately,” he muttered, but there wasn’t any malice behind it like there would have been before the holidays.

“I don’t! If you keep complaining about it then I will do it on purpose, dickhead.”

That was better. Lucy shuddered at the thought of the two of them being overly sickly sweet, all cuddles and pet names like ‘Sugar’ or ‘Schmoopie’, and was instantly glad that the competitive streak in them both had apparently stayed. It would be a lot easier to stomach living with a new couple if they weren’t being insufferably cute.

“So… you bet on your own acting skills?” questioned George, finishing his slice of toast. “Seems a bit stupid, really. You’re both awful at acting.” Lockwood and Y/n stopped bickering, instead staring up at George in shared outrage.

“How dare you! I’m a charades champion!”

“I can act, it’s Lockwood that’s the problem!”

They spoke at the same time, both pointing at Lockwood for their respective comments, and Y/n took a moment to take in what he’d said. “Charades champion?” she said, drawing out the syllables and turning slowly to look at him over her shoulder. “We already talked about this, Ant. Using props is cheating, so you lost every game you played!” Lucy frowned. ‘Ant’? Since when had Lockwood let anybody call him Ant?! Apparently he didn’t mind, instead being too busy looking at Y/n with hearts for eyes while he tried (ineffectively) to argue his case. It was obvious that Y/n would win, given how wrapped around her little finger Lockwood was, but the argument wasn’t really an argument. More like… friendly teasing. Lucy could deal with that, she decided. It was much better than having to comfort one of them or convince apologies out of them after a screaming match.

Skull had gone silent in the corner, but there was a smile in the sludge. He almost certainly had some information, but Lucy could get the details out of him and her friends later.

For now, she was content to watch them be a proper family for the first time since Y/n joined, even if Lockwood’s laughing face was being shoved away from the aforementioned girl as he tried to kiss her in an attempt to apologise for cheating at charades.

tag list (if you're on here twice or I forgot you I'm so sorry, this tag list is honestly such a mess whoops):

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #deck the halls (and not your partner)#enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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plzfeedmebread · 1 year

Text

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 5

word count: 2661

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: nsfw, SMUT

Author's Note: Shorter chapter this time around! I just wanted to write smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) We are coming to the end lovelies!

Snoring.

The sound slowly pulls you from your slumber. You open your eyes, blinking away the last dregs of sleep. You yawn as you stretch yourself out on your bed. Except, this doesn’t feel like a bed at all. You look up and see the sleeping face of your beloved, he has one arm behind is head, the other you feel on the small of your back. You’re lying on him, using him like a muscled mattress.

You smile to yourself. He is delectably warm.

You snuggle yourself deeper into his chest, gripping his shirt tighter. You feel his arm press you firmer into him, he mumbles something incomprehensible, then continue to snore.

Your mind wonders then to what had transpired earlier. Your stomach drops at the memory of your mother leaving the tent, unable to even look at you. The anxiety burns through you; leaves a gnawing void in the pit of your soul. The longer you lie there, the deeper it grows.

You hate feeling like this; you shouldn’t feel like this. You’re supposed to be happy. Happy to be back with your family, happy to be with the man bound to you by Eywa herself.

You want to forget. Forget everything that happened and just live in blissful ignorance, even just for a moment. Luckily, you know just the person to help you.

You gently turn yourself over, placing your legs on either side of Quaritch, nestling your crotch to his. You hear him take in a sharp breath at the sudden feeling of your heated sex to his, but still he sleeps. You move his hand and place it firmly to your rump. Even in his subconscious he desires you, and so despite being fast asleep, he can’t help but instinctively squeeze. You bite your lip and brace both hands on his broad chest.

You lean forward, purposefully griding yourself against him as you do, eliciting a sleepy moan from him. You start pressing chaste kisses to the soft flesh of his neck. You move from his throat and up to his jaw. You keep planting kisses along his jawline till you reach his mouth. You tilt your head and kiss him gently. You don’t move your lips, but you do again start to grind yourself against him. You can’t help but smirk when you feel his dick twitch against your sex.

Your heart flutters when you feel his lips press firmly against yours, returning the kiss. The velvet of his lips caresses you over and over again. He licks your bottom lip before gently sucking on the tender flesh. You part your lips and invite the intrusion of his tongue. He tastes every inch of your mouth before he tangles himself with you. It is intoxicating, this feeling, almost like drowning. You almost fight yourself when you need to come up for air.

You part yourself from him, but only an inch, your hot breathe mixes with his in the small space. Both of you are breathless, breathing heavily. You look those golden pools, the void of his pupils blown wide. His face is beautifully blanketed by a deep blush.

“Well…that’s one helluva way to wake up…I could get used to this,” he says with laboured breath and a loving smile. You feel the fast beat of his heart under your palms; reassuring and strong. But the tenderness of his expression falters, and it its wake comes concern. His eyes search yours then, a hand placed so tenderly to your temple, as if you would break so easily.

“Not that I’m complaining sweetheart, but…” You know what he wants to ask, but you are in no mood to talk of such things. All you want right now is too feel. You shake your head, stopping him mid-sentence.

“I do not wish to speak of it…Not right now. All I want, is to feel. To forget. Just for a little while…Please?” You grip tightly to the hand cradling you.

The look on your face shatters something deep within him; liquid warmth spreads forth, encapsulating his entire being. He becomes all too aware of his beating heart. And he comes to the conclusion that it only beats for you. He doesn’t deign you with an answer, and instead lets his actions speak for him.

He leans up and kisses you with all the passion from before. Both hands are on you, pulling you back to him. He isn’t gentle this time. His mouth dominates you, scorching you with his desire. You aren’t drowning; you are engulfed in flame.

With a swiftness you did not expect, he switches your positions. He has you caged within his arms, looming just above you. The fierceness of his gaze makes your heart skip, delicious anticipation tingling your every nerve. You may be a skilled hunter, but here trapped under him; you never felt more like prey.

He descends on you without warning; the two of you are a mash of teeth and saliva. He is devouring you. You whimper, unable to control yourself. Your mind thinks only of him. His mouth moves to your neck, sucking and licking at your flesh.

He pushes your legs apart and starts rubbing his hardened member against your clothed sex. The muted stimulation to your clit sends small jolts of pleasure through you, causing you to moan through parted lips. He pulls up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He brings the bundled shirt to your mouth and tells you to bite down.

“Don’t want anyone else hearing those pretty sounds you make darling. Don’t exactly know how soundproof these things are.”

You nod and grip at the fabric with clenched teeth. You yourself aren’t sure either how reliably these walls will contain your moans.

His mouth is back to assaulting your neck, and you breath deep through your nose, trying your best to be quieter. His hand wastes no time in grabbing your breast, roughly kneading you.

“Hmmmmrph!” The shirt does little to muffle your moan at his ministrations. He moves his hand and rubs his thumb over your nipple, causing you to arch your back. He takes it between his forefinger and thumb, gently rolling your bud to a peak. You feel yourself slicken even further.

You press your feet firmly to the ground and tilt your pelvis upward so his clothed dick hits you just right. It only takes a few more hits to your clit for your orgasm to wash over you. The cord snaps and the wave of pleasure hits you from your swollen clit, spreading out and tingling every part of your being.

“That’s my girl, you’re doing so well baby,” he whispers into your ear when feels your body tense as you ride your orgasm.

You feel your pussy clench around nothing, groaning deep as he keeps rubbing against you.

He takes the shirt from your mouth, now drenched with your spit. Before you can even relax he grabs your mouth with his hand and forces your lips apart. He’s on you again, forcing his tongue inside. You yelp with surprise but don’t fight; all too eager to make out with him any chance you get.

He lifts himself up to gaze down at you, giving you one hard thrust into your core. The action causes you to bite you lip.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? I’m only just getting started…”

---

Your mind is an addled mess; the ability to form a single coherent thought lessening with each orgasm he pulls from you.

You’re approaching your fifth, you think. He has you on your back, one arm wound behind you, his hand holds firm to your breast and he fondles you, deft fingers teasing your perked nipple. Each flick and pinch sends pleasurable bolts down your spine.

His mouth is to your ear, whispering the most delicious filth to you. He licks and nips between words, earning him a melody of whines and whimpers. Your leg closest to him is bent at the knee, trapped behind his own as he bends you open further; utterly at his mercy.

And his hand; that dextrous tool of your destruction. He has 3 long fingers deep in you, his palm pressed flat to your clit. Up and down he pumps, stimulating the soft spongy flesh within while your bundle of nerves is rubbed vigorously against his smooth skin.

He can’t believe how utterly drenched you are; he’s sure he could almost fit his entire hand in you right now. You’ve all but made a pool of irresistible nectar at your core. So lubricated are you, Quaritch wonders if outsiders can hear the filthy squelch of your pussy as he works his fingers into your sex. You are far from caring at this point, your mind is but focused on one thing; coming all over this man’s fingers.

You feel it building fast, that tight pressure somewhere deep beyond your cunt. Your walls start to clench as the pleasure builds, closer and closer you sprint to that edge. The pleasure is bordering on painful; you aren’t even sure if you can even withstand one more. Fat tears roll down your face, you whimper and moan; conflicted as you are pulled in opposite directions.

‘I—I can’t! Please! I—I don’t—' You try so very hard to get the words out, but what comes out of your mouth is simply unintelligible nonsense under breathless moans and whines. But he understands, Eywa bless this man. Unfortunately for you, he cares not for your protests; believing you are capable of just. One. More.

“Come on baby just one more, I know you got it in you. Just give me one more, that’s all I’m askin’ for sweetheart. You’re my good little girl aren’t you? You’ll do just as your mate asks; won’t you?”

You growl low in your throat, desperate to please him. You bite hard on your lip, the taste of blood dancing on your tongue. For him. You’ll do it for him; even if you go mad.

You feel his fingers quicken their pace, his palm brutally massaging your clit. He is unrelenting in his search for that final explosion of pleasure. Faster and faster the pleasure builds along with the pain. Your walls are swollen, pussy almost burning to the touch. It only takes a few more rubs against that soft flesh for you to orgasm; you cum the hardest this time.

You groan in pain and pleasure through gritted teeth, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you try not to scream out at the top of your lungs. But it is a losing battle. You go to open your mouth but he is on you, swallowing your screams with a bruising kiss.

The walls of your pussy clench around his fingers like a vice, massaging him as though to milk him for every last drop of his seed. But the high doesn’t stop. It builds more; until you feel ourself expel all over his hands, your legs. Quaritch quickly removes his fingers and starts slapping your hypersensitive clit, a victorious smirk spreads on his face as he watches you squirt all over yourself and him.

“There you go sweetheart…that’s it, that’s my good girl,” he kisses away your tears. All you can do is cry; the pleasure is far too overwhelming and all you want is a little reprieve.

Your head lulls to the side, mouth agape as you drool. You’re far too tired to even think. And so you just lie there; mind blank, the only thing your hyper aware of is the deep thrumming of your clit and pussy as it aches; utterly abused and throbbing.

Your mate’s heavy breathing behind you pulls your attention; ears perking up at the sound. Still flat on your back, you turn your head to him. Your walls clench at the sight of him. He has his cock in his hand, leisurely pumping himself with one hand, the tip already leaking precum.

It then dawns on you that through out this whole endeavour, he probably hasn’t come once. You feel guilty, and try to reach for him, but grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles instead. You whine in protest.

“Ssshhh, it’s alright baby. I won’t take long, trust me,” he winks at you, licking his lips and he squeezes himself harder.

But you’re having none of it; if he’s cumming, it’d better be deep inside you; painting your walls with his seed.

You take your hand from his, causing his pace to slow, confused by your retreat. With great effort you push yourself up onto your shoulders, and glare at him as best you can.

“You…if you don’t finish inside me…Then I swear by Eywa I’ll end you my damn self…Now get over here.” He immediately stops his hand, staring at you shocked. But it’s gone in an instead, and he huffs out a laugh and fixes you with half lidden eyes and a smirk.

“As my mate commands.”

You let yourself lay back down as he quickly moves over you. Once he’s between your legs you trap him there, locking your feet together.

“Hmm, serious are we?”

“Hurry up and fuck me Miles…”

“Ohhh I love it when you talk dirty, darling,” he steals your breath with a passionate kiss, one you’re all to happy to return. You move your queue between the two of you. He does the same when he sees your movement. When the bond links into place, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re filled with his aching need for you; overwhelmed by the desire to be fucked all over again.

“Fuck…” Is all he can groan out, resting his head to yours. He nearly cums then and there, feeling your body so tired and sore, yet still pleasure dances across your skin and deep at your centre.

He pushes himself into you with one hard thrust. He meets no resistance, the soft smooth flesh of your cunt sucks him in, accepting him in full splendour.

You sigh deep, only now realising that this was what missing; being completely full and stretched. He doesn’t let you catch your breath, immediately pounding into you with reckless abandon. It thrust brings him to the base, his cock stretching you to the limit, moulding your soft spongy walls around him.

You hands seek purchase on his back, nails digging into the flesh and you claw him; leaving bloody trails in their path. He growls then, followed by a guttural moan. The deep baritone of his voice makes your pussy clench.

“Fuck, [Y/N], just like that! My perfect mate, my perfect girl! You take me so well baby…You were made for taking this cock weren’t you?”

Renewed tears stream down your face as your mind becomes flooded with the pleasure of the bond. It only takes a few more powerful thrusts before Quaritch cums inside you with a low growl into your ear. The feeling him his hot seed being spilt inside you causes another orgasm to wrack your body. You are thankful it’s at least a lot gentler than the last.

Quaritch hums and kisses your neck when he feels your walls clench around him, the sound of your breath catching doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Aww, another one just for me? You’re too kind princess.” He plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he flops down beside you, completely spent.

With his remaining strength he pulls you to him. You cuddle yourself against his side, resting your head upon his chest, leg thrown over his mid. His hand comes to rest on your thigh, lazily drawing shapes onto your skin.

“I love you, Miles…thank you…”

“I love you too, [Y/N].” He kisses to top of your head.

The last thing you remember is wrapping your tail around his before sleep claims you once more.

---

Tag list: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness @perseny @fandom-garbage @ttreader @hihhasotherfixations @angel-of-silver369 @royallaufeyson @saltedcoffeescotch @the-hufflebird-girl

---

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dozing-marshmallow · 7 months

Note

chris mclean x reader when reader finds out they are pregnant?? Smth like that or just chris with his and readers baby? How he’d act like a dad or smth

I can’t lie, this motivated me since I always tend to think about how Chris would be as a dad 😭 Daily reminder to drink water and eat well everyone💗! Enjoy reading!

CHRIS MCLEAN AS A DAD HEADCANONS

Chris definitely has thought about being a parent during his occupation of hosting a show of teenagers.

He just didn’t expect that thought to become a thing so soon.

He used to internally mock a lot of the contestants’ parents for the way some of them turned out. Now here he was, worrying how his seed will bloom.

Having children actually did appeal to him, he’s just aware that being a dad would require a lot from him and he wasn’t sure if he could dedicate himself to that for the next few decades or so, especially at a time where his career was opening so many opportunities for him.

You were excited, holding the positive pregnancy test to him,“Isn’t this amazing, Chris? I’m holding your baby! You’re gonna be a dad!”

“It really is mine, huh?” He blinks, scratching the side of his head,“Sorry if I don’t sound excited or anything... It’s sorta hard for me to feel sentimental about this kind of stuff instantly.”

“Don’t worry.” you kiss his cheek,“You’ll feel something, sooner or later.”

He nods in consensus,“‘Course! But don’t take it that I’m not happy; when you first told me, I wanted to celebrate by pouring ourselves a glass of fine wine...just for me to remember you can’t drink alcohol for the next few months.” he chuckled at the last part.

“Chriiis...” your saliva was now filling the back of your mouth at the thought of that strong daring drink,“Why would you say thaaat?”

“Don’t worry! If it makes you feel better, I’ll give it up for you until the baby comes. Until the baby comes... Huh.” a bemused look crawls on his skin,“Never thought I’d say that.”

“Didn’t you think about having a baby before, Chris?” now it was your turn to blink.

“That’s a question you can ask anyone, (Y/N).” his eyes slide around,“But sure. It’s about time I passed my amazing, talented, good looks down the family tree.”

You made it clear to Chris that while you were in full agreement to spoiling the baby, you wanted them to know about gratitude and patience.

Chris was set on your condition, because there was no way he wasn’t going to spoil this child.

He has money to spend.

Often, you have emotional outbursts, thinking you’re ugly and that Chris was going to leave you for a more attractive woman.

”It’s no fair...” you sobbed,“If my body was going to be made to give life, why is it reacting so dramatically?”

Chris wasn’t cruel enough to involve your side effects of pregnancy with his sadism,“Dramatically is a big stretch... It’s your first time, you haven’t done anything like it before.”

“True... But I’m worried you don’t think I’m attractive anymore. I mean.” She scanned him up and down,”You haven’t changed one bit this entire pregnancy and here I am, a weeping sack of fat. I wouldn’t be surprised if...if...you...saw other girls...”

“(Y/NN)...” he gently lays his head on your tummy,“I know being on TV may have made you super insecure, but you’re still the same beautiful thing I fell in love with. Pregnant or not, no other gal could be as cool as you are.”

He wasn’t going anywhere,“Thanks...Chris.”

Also if you wanna know how the contestants reacted...they were horrified. For a variety of reasons- the future of the child’s life with a dad like Chris, what Chris had to do to even conceive that child etc.

The only ones that properly congratulated you were DJ and...

Yeah, just DJ.

You knew their reasons to be concerned, but you trusted Chris to be a good dad, even if he was eccentric, both on and off TV.

When labour rolls around, you’re clutching Chris’ hand. At contractions, you would bite onto the edge of his shirt. He knows he has no right to tell you to calm down, so he uses his other hand to pet your head and his mouth to tell you everything was going to be fine.

Thanks to all the remedies Chris bought for you during the pregnancy, the birth was bearably fast and you didn’t suffer any complications.

It was all worth it, to hear the crying of your reddening flower, alive and well, seeing the face your and Chris’ DNA fused.

You had never been more grateful for him.

One of the few times he cried. Holding that bawling bundle of love, the paternal sentiment dawned on him at last, in the room of white on a cloudy day.

“So... I’m...a dad now...” he settled, looking down at the scrunched up face of the baby he’s made, wet nose twitching,“Hey there...”

You nod, peering over, whole family in tears,“Welcome to the world, sweetheart.”

He was a lot more affectionate than he thought he would be. He enjoys cradling the infant, keeping an eye on her as you rest, feeding her, as part of his routine.

He always finds a way to include her in any conversation he has.

Even at night, when she cries and he’s woken up, groggy and heavy-headed, it never fails to bring a smile on his face, that it was his baby he’s shushing back to slumber.

The baby loves feeling around Chris’ face and his black hair whenever he holds her on the couch.

And we all know how tight a baby’s grip is.

Well Chris didn’t until his daughter held a batch of his hair in her first for an hour.

“(Y/NNN)! Make her let go of me!” he begged you, holding her away as far as her stubborn arm would allow, having enough.

Rather than assisting him, you remained where you were and chuckled at the little one’s mischief,“She must really like your hair.”

“I like my hair too, but you don’t see me grabbing it for an hour!” he whined.

Hearing her dad’s harmless frustration, the baby giggled and let go.

Chris froze. With his ageing umber eyes, he locks them onto the fulgent new, squinting from smiling, eyes of his baby. Next thing you knew, he juxtaposed what he was whining about ten seconds ago by bringing the soft face of his daughter right onto his, stroking, sniffling,“I have the most adorable baby in the world...!”

Though being a dad did undeniable changes to Chris, he was still him, you know? No amount of children could ever erase his personality.

For example, you’ve caught him several times trying to get the baby interested in violent movies and sharks.

“Chris! You’ll scare her little mind half to death!” you scold, picking her up from his side.

“What, like our generation didn’t grow up with scary stuff? She can handle it, put her back down!” he argued, annoyance gracing his gorgeous face.

Considering she’s Chris’ child, she probably could.

It’s not surprising that Chris would feed any offspring of his the tv show he was most famous for and even bring her on set.

You admit you felt a bit unsure about her being exposed to a lot of the content of Total Drama, but you knew, without a scent of doubt, Chris would keep her safe by all costs.

He’d do this thing where as he’s addressing his viewers on Total Drama, he’d have the baby on his lap and she’s just mindlessly looking around or sucking his hand. He’d give her a remote control to release something dangerous like a bomb on the campers and laugh when she unintentionally activates it by putting it inside her mouth.

Rewatching old episodes though, the child squealed every time Chris came on screen, Dama! Dama! (Drama! Drama!)

You weren’t surprised when she cooed “Dada” before “Mama”.

There you go, she had two names for Chris. You?

Nothing.

Were you upset by it? Eh, maybe a little. You found the more important part being your husband discovering to really enjoy being a dad to a child who really loves him too.

You turn to see Chris playing peek a boo with her.

Mother’s paradise.🌺

#chris mclean x reader #tdi #td chris #tdi x reader #chris mclean #total drama #total drama chris mclean #request #total drama island chris #td chris mclean x reader #total drama chris #total drama headcanons #total drama scenarios #dad chris mclean

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subwaysurf45 · 2 years

Text

Falling in Love

Summary: fall time was always your favourite, but being pregnant can take away some of the activities.

Words: 749 (little drabble)

Warnings: pregnacy, literally nothing

A/N: shout out to @jadedvibes and their amazing fall writing challenge! check out their rules and ideas as well as the challenge's masterlist. again, amazing ideas and so happy I could be a part of this!

Being pregnant during the fall had been the worst so far of all the seasons you had endured. seven months along and you would still choose the blazing hot sun over your particular situation right now. Fall was your favourite season and not getting to enjoy it like you did all the years before hurt in a way that was close to indescribable.

But now you sat on a lawn chair, bundled up to the nines, thermos in your hands, simply watching Bucky, your husband, rake the leaves.

Your favourite fall activity.

The show was great, seeing him work a little line of sweat on his brow. Part of you couldn’t believe you could see the faintest ripple of his back muscles through his waffle-knit long-sleeve, sweater, and jacket. While he was making it interesting you couldn't help but feel envious of Bucky, getting to do one of the simple pleasures in life.

“I mean, they’re just going to keep falling,” he sighed and restest against his rake, after finding out about the news you moved into a semi-detached home instead of staying in the apartment. This was the first time either of you had dealt with a lawn, “why are we even doing this?” his hand brushed back his hair.

A twinge of sadness grew, “cause it’s my favourite thing,” you offered with a sad smile, “I love raking the leaves,” your hand found its way to your bump, soothing yourself.

“I know but why couldn’t your favourite activity be baking cookies or watching movies? Why labour?” He walked over to you and fixed the toque that sat crooked on your head, smiling widely when you barely fought back because of how often he did it.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it made me feel like this…mysterious girl next door growing up like I was different because I wanted to rake leaves instead of baking cookies,” you stood up and bucky placed his hand on your stomach, “I got to listen to my own music, organize a place, and feel cool while doing it.”

Bucky giggled and pulled you into a hug, “well, we can do this another time but I think we deserve a break,” he pulled back, “all that watching must have worked you up an appetite,” Bucky threw his arm around you and walked you up the few steps to get to your house, you were so close to saying it but Bucky cut you off, “once you’re napping I’ll clean up the lawn.”

You had been directed by your doctor to rest more, that’s why you couldn’t rake the leaves. Bucky brought you straight to the couch and laid a blanket on you, walking into the kitchen after. Your eyes closed as you listened to him bang a few pots together, talking to himself as he cooked.

You must have fallen asleep because when the banging stopped you heard a little coo from Bucky, feeling him push your hair out of your face and begin to take off your bulky jacket, scarf, and mittens.

“I hope you know you’re not that mysterious girl next door anymore,” his voice was rumbling as he kept quiet, “you’re my wife and you’re gonna be that mother of our kid so I’m sorry I didn’t let you rake the leave because I’ve known you long enough to know you were upset about it,” his finger carefully pulled down your zipper, “but I hope you know in a years time we’re gonna have a little you running around and wanting to rake as well, making it go a little faster, I hope,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Still holding onto consciousness you gravitate towards him, “we’re gonna have a baby,” you whispered and pulled him onto the couch, “I love you, honey,” saying the words and realizing how your family was going to change soon was a lot to take in, if you weren’t so tired you would have been freaking out by now.

Bucky was quick to make you fall back asleep, “look at you,” you were curled in his chest, one hand protectively around your bump like always, even in the dead of sleep you were still protecting your baby, “you’re so cute, sometimes I look at you and realize how hard I've fallen in love with you; I love it.”

“If it’s a girl, can we name her Becca?” you mumbled, not meaning to say that out loud, that was supposed to be a conversation for tomorrow.

He laughed, “I’d love that.”

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writemekpop · 1 year

Text

Confession (Part 3) | Jung Jaehyun & Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader, Yuta x Reader

Summary: Ever since you became pregnant, Jaehyun won't fuck you. You turn to Yuta for a shoulder to cry on... that becomes something more. What happens when Jaehyun walks in on you and Yuta?

Genre: Husband!Jaehyun, serious angst, bad boy college friend!Yuta

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 💋

Just then, you heard a car pull up to the driveway. Yuta ran to the window. When he turned to you, his face was blank.

You knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

---

“I can’t believe you!” Jaehyun spat. “I trusted you!”

Jaehyun had walked into the house and found you, naked and sweaty, trying to push Yuta out through the window.

It didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened.

Jaehyun stormed out of the living room and bounded up the stairs. You followed him up, but it took you a whole minute to heave yourself up off the couch. Being nine months pregnant, you were almost ready to burst.

You eventually made it to your bedroom. When you walked in, you saw an open suitcase on the bed. Jaehyun was pulling clothes out of the wardrobe and stuffing them in. His jaw was clenched tight.

Your heart thumped against your chest. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” he spat. “You fucked our friend, Y/n. Whilst carrying a baby!”

“Our baby,” you said, touching your belly.

“Well, it’s yours now.” Jaehyun said. “I don’t want anything to do with it. Or you.”

His words felt like a blow to your chest. “Look, I’m sorry!”

Jaehyun stormed towards you. “I don’t believe you’re sorry. Would you have even told me about it had I not walked in on you?”

You saw red. “Well maybe if you’d had sex with me one of the hundred times I’ve asked in the last six months, I wouldn’t have had to screw Yuta!”

Jaehyun’s face drained of colour. “You slut! I know I said some mean things to you but… I didn’t cheat. And I could have, you know. There were plenty of opportunities. Plenty.”

“Maybe we can admit we’ve both made mistakes. Try to… move past this?” You grabbed his arm.

Jaehyun shoved you off him, the force sending you colliding with the wardrobe door. You groaned in pain. Jaehyun didn’t even look up. He just kept packing.

“I’m going to my parents’ place. I can’t be around you,” he said, zipping up the suitcase.

“Jaehyun, please! I… we need you.” You thought about your unborn child. You were not ready to be a single mother.

Jaehyun scoffed. “Well, you should have thought about that before you fucked Yuta. Do you even want to be with me? Or are you just afraid of being alone?”

Tears pricked your eyes. “I … want to be loved, Jaehyun. I- Ah!” A searing pain ripped through your tummy. You clutched your bump in shock.

“The baby… something’s not right,” you whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Oh please,” he spat. “Stop being so dramatic. I can’t believe you’d fake going into labour to get me to stay. You’re really something, you know.”

“I’m not faking!” You gasped as another contraction came on. It felt like you were being punched in the gut.

Feeling your legs wobble underneath you, you grabbed Jaehyun’s hand for support. Only, he tore his hand out of yours, leaving you to crumple onto the floor.

You heard his suitcase thumping as he pulled it down the stairs.

You hobbled down the stairs, gripping your stomach. “You need to take me to the hospital, Jae please, I-“

Suddenly, you felt a gush of liquid soaking your pants. You touched the wet patch. Your fingers were stained with blood.

You looked up, and saw that Jaehyun had noticed the blood, too. His face was stretched with worry.

He came close and held your hand. Your heart surged, he’d forgiven you!

“Okay, let’s go to the hospital.”

Jaehyun held your hand the entire ambulance ride. Despite the pain and shock you were in, you were happy to have him by your side.

The ambulance pulled up to the front of the hospital.

The paramedic started to push you inside on a wheelchair, when you realised that Jaehyun was lingering by the door, not coming in.

“Wait!” you shouted. “What’s going on? Jae, are you not coming inside with me?”

Jaehyun scratched his neck, his eyes trained on the floor. The red and blue lights from the ambulance cast eerie shadows over his handsome face.

“I hope you get better,” Jaehyun said in a strange voice.

“What do you mean? Stay and help me get better!” you yelled.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered.

“No! Jae, you can’t leave me!” you begged.

“This is as far as I’ll go, Y/n.” Jaehyun said. “I meant what I said. We’re done.”

You gasped. It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath you, and you were plummeting. You were Alice falling down the rabbit hole, no escape.

“There’s no time, we have to get you into theatre!” The paramedic pushed you inside the hospital.

You craned your head to look at Jaehyun, but all you saw was his back as he walked away.

The sounds of the emergency department faded into a muffled hum.

Everything went black.

---

When you woke up, you were alone.

You rubbed your eyes and realised that you had a drip attached to your right hand.

You slowly sat up, taking in your surroundings. You were in a side room of the hospital, the morning light seeping in through the partially closed blinds.

Your mind flashed back to the last thing you could remember. Pain, blood, Jaehyun leaving.

Your hands went straight to your tummy, which was deflated and covered in bandages.

“Where’s my baby?” you cried. You looked around the room and saw an empty plastic cot in the corner.

You fought the urge to scream.

Just then, the curtains drew back, and a doctor stepped into the room. She was cradling a baby in her arms.

“Good morning,” the doctor said. “Meet your daughter.”

The doctor handed you a tiny sleeping baby, wrapped up in pink woollen blankets.

“Your daughter was born by emergency caesarean section at three AM, you’ve been out of it the whole time. It’s a good thing you came in when you did.”

You looked down at the baby in your arms. She had a tuft of wild black hair, rose petal eye lids and a short, wide nose. Perfection.

You couldn’t believe that you and Jaehyun had created such a beautiful person.

Your felt a wave of nausea. “D-did anyone come to visit me?”

The doctor shook her head. “No… is there anyone you want me to call?”

Tears pricked your eyes. “No, there isn’t.” It was you and the baby against the world, you supposed.

The doctor gave you a sympathetic smile. “I better get to the other patients.”

You held the baby close to your face, breathing in her scent. “I’m sorry you’ll have to grow up without a father. It’s all my fault.”

The baby cooed and nuzzled into your cheek, as if she could feel your pain.

Despite holding this little human in your arms, you had never felt so alone.

There was a knock on the door.

Your heart surged. Jaehyun must have changed his mind! He must have decided to stay!

The door swung open, to reveal a mop of unruly black hair.

“Can I… come in?”

Yuta was standing at the door, holding his beanie in his hands. He was wearing a faded T shirt and sweats, his face puffy like he’d been up all night, but to you, he looked gorgeous.

You realised he was just the person you wanted to see.

You nodded. “Please.”

Yuta approached the bed carefully. “Where’s-“

“He’s gone. For good,” you said, cutting Yuta off before he could finish his sentence.

“Good riddance.” His face softened. “Who’s this?” he said, smiling at the baby in your arms.

“She doesn’t have a name yet…”

Yuta peered at the sleeping baby. A little bit of drool fell out of her tiny lips, and Yuta gently wiped the baby’s cheek. His voice was hushed. “She’s just as beautiful as her mom. An Aries too.”

“What do you think about…. April?”

Yuta grinned. “I love it.” Yuta handed a pile of clothes to you. “Some of my sweatshirts – I thought you might want a change of clothes.”

You sniffed as you cuddled the soft fabric. “I never wanted to do this alone…”

Yuta’s jaw clenched. He sat down on the chair beside your bed and gripped your hand. “You don’t have to. Y/n, I’m in love with you. I think I have been since the day we met. I want to marry you. I want to raise your kid as mine. I want… you.”

He went on. “I should have said this before, but I’ve been holding back since… since I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, or your marriage with Jaehyun. But then I realised what a jerk he was and… I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish.”

You squeezed his hand. “Yuta… wow. What – can I say?”

Yuta continued. “If I’d been braver then… maybe things would have been different. Maybe April could have been mine… not his.”

You squeezed his hand.

Yuta’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “Y/n?”

You gulped. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You sucked in a breath. Then you nodded.

Yuta’s hand came up to touch the side of your face softly. He leant down towards you, his eyes slipping shut.

Your lips touched his, soft and pillowy. And then suddenly you were kissing.

Even though you’d had sex with Yuta yesterday, kissing him today felt like the start of something new.

You wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. His soft tongue against yours sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. Kissing Yuta felt like coming home.

You didn’t know what the future would hold. You didn’t know if you’d ever see Jaehyun again.

But right now, you had April… and you had Yuta. And that was all you needed.

—

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