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[healthyboom]

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[fuwushiguro]

Hi love! Your content is great and always makes my head spin🤤 I was wondering if you could maybe do fitness trainer Toji with a plush reader? Like you go to the gym wanting to slim down and ask for a trainer and before any of the other loser trainers can get to you, Toji steps in. He is constantly reassuring you the entire time And at the end of the session he just can’t resist from not touching you🥺🫶🏼 thank you in advance and I hope you have the best day possible!

I can literally imagine Toji quoting this in his head as he hears you talk negatively about your body (not proofed I'm lazy) warnings: chubby!reader, body issues, raw sex, slightly public, praise etc etc lmk if i missed any

"Huh?"

"I literally need a gym trainer who's going to help me look like a rake."

"I- what? A fuckin' rake? What are you talking about?"

"My boyfriend cheated on me, and of course the girl he slept with is tiny. He left me for her... I don't want him back but I want to prove a point!" you explain, looking at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for him to help with your mission.

He stared at you, and it scared you a little. You aren't sure if you've said something wrong or if he just had no interest in your tragic love life. But you can only assume he doesn't get many clients with this attitude.

"Fine, kid. But listen, I'm not helping you 'look like a rake'." he tells you.

"B-But..."

"I'll help you train. If you lose weight, whatever. If you gain muscle... I think that'll be a better revenge body to make your ex regret leaving you." he explains.

"O-Oh... really? Okay, I trust you."

He smirks at that.

It's not often he's trusted by women.

"I hate sit ups." you pant, breathlessly.

"It's your last set, just do it 'n then you can go home." he tells you, as he sits beside you drinking some water from his comically large bottle. By the size of it, you'd think he'd be the one who had been working out for the last hour.

"C'mere." he shuffles his body so that he's closer to you, positioning your legs and hips like you're weightless. "You might find it easier now. I'll stay here, gimme ten more."

"Ten?!"

"Do it."

You sigh, lying flat as you mentally prepare yourself for how bad your stomach is about to ache. Your cheeks fill as you blow out a puff of air. You're painfully aware of his eyes on you, and honestly, you're embarrassed. You begin to sit up again and again as you think about his incredible physique. About how he surely thinks the same way as your ex boyfriend.

Your eyes lock with his with ever sit up you perform, his hands grabbing your knees to keep you in place. Your noses almost touch and his eyes are filled with what you can only assume is disgust. You're humiliating yourself trying to make yourself appear more attractive to the male species.

"Aaaand done, good job, kid." he smiles at you, his small mouth scar pulling slightly as he does. "So, wanna make this a regular thing?"

You hold up a finger as you catch your breath, eventually nodding. He holds his hand out to you, helping you to your feet with ease. He walks away from you, tilting his head and indicating for you to follow. You aren't sure where he's taking you, but you follow mindlessly.

"My calendar is in my office, I'll get you booked in for a few sessions this month and then you can just give them your card details at the fron desk." he explains.

"Sure, sounds good." you smile, he walks into his office first and holds the door opening, closing it right after you come in. Your ears prick when you hear the door lock, but for whatever reason you don't feel alarmed.

The air is knocked from your lungs as you feel his hands on your waist, lifting you into the air and practically slamming you onto his desk.

"W-What are you doing?!" you gasp.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, it's almost polite but not really. He's expecting one answer, and luckily for you you're nodding before you can think of declining. He hikes up your leg and squeezes your plush thigh as his lips connect with yours. "You're so soft... so fuckin' perfect."

"Shut up." you laugh, you try to kiss him again but he pulls away.

"I'm serious." he lifts your up your sports bra and tosses it aside, grabbing a handful of your large chest. He pushes you backwards so that your spine is flat against his desk, tugging off your leggings with no hesitation. He peppers kisses across your tender skin. Your thighs, your tummy, your heavy tits. "There's nothin' wrong with your body, y'know? Your ex is a fuckin' pussy."

Your body tenses up, feeling horrendously aware of how exposed your figure is and how he's examining you.

"I- I was too heavy for him." you pant, unsure whether to try and chat casually about it or make a run for your clothes and the exit. "I don't blame him."

"You weigh the same as paper to me, darlin'." he smirks, picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. He slams you against the wall as you makeout heavily. "You want this cock? F-Feel how hard I am for ya?"

"P-Please. You're so big.. please fuck me." you beg. You paw at his shirt, desperate to feel the muscles that you could clearly see beneath.

His facial expression is almost menacing as he knows he's won, he's got you exactly where he wants you and you're begging for his cock. Thick fingers dig into malleable flesh, bruises of his name signed into your skin like a binding contract that you're his new favourite play thing.

"You're so fuckin' perfect, sweetheart. Love cute bodies like yours..." he tells you, staring into your eyes to catch your expression, grinning at the way your cheeks flush and a bead of sweat forms in your hairline.

"Aah! Ah, fuck.. 'h my god..." you moan, the embarrassment overwhelming you and the feeling of his heavy cock splitting you open making your heart race.

He begins a brutal pace, easily holding your body up with one muscular arm as he slams into you, his free hand tweaking your pert nipple. The way your eyes cross dumbly as he ruins your insides almost makes him blow his load on the spot.

"Too— mmmnn.." you moan, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Too what?" he laughs a little, "Too? Have I fucked you so stupid you already can't think? Oh sweetheart... think I'm in love." he tells you as he kisses your neck.

Your fingers scratch his back repeatedly and he can only his from the pain and pleasure of it all. He's happy to be marked by you, he's going to do the same to your insides after all.

"'m gonna cum, I'm— ah—!" your cunt tightens around him as you finish, and soon enough he's pressing his body as much as he can into yours, pinning you between him and the wall as his balls tighten and he paints your desperate, wanting walls.

You pant against each other, neither of you moving for a while. All you can bring yourself to do is catch your breath and stare into his jade coloured eyes. And eventually, he helps you down and offers you a towel before sitting at his desk and checking through his calendar.

"Are you free Friday night?" he asks.

"O-Oh, Toji, I'm too exhausted from that workout to even think about my next training session." you chuckle a little, wiping yourself down before collecting your scattered clothing.

"No, baby, I'm takin' you on a date." he smiles at you earnestly. "Perfect body, perfect pussy, and newly single. You're crazy if you think I'm not taking full advantage of the opportunity to make you mine."

© 2023 fuwushiguro

[gravid-transluna]

Two Birthdays

words: 4111

content: lactation, milking, clothing birth, birth denial, fpreg

Part One

A birthday is a special day. Her friend’s twenty-first should have been Mari’s only focus. However, Mari had been distracted the entire day as they spent time at the resort’s expansive pool and spa. It hadn’t been so bad at first. Her friend’s mom, Noemi, was nearly a week overdue with her second child, and though she had started the day in modest clothes—a maternity sundress draping her huge, full swell, navel protruding starkly, pressing downward from her middle—, the afternoon sun had continued to shine down on them, forcing Noemi to shed her dress, pulling it up her belly and over her head.

Mari’s face had flushed and she’d turned away, ashamed and furious at herself for her own thoughts, but she’d already seen the nakedness of Noemi’s belly, taut at the seams and painfully overdue, hanging low over her hips and melting into her otherwise small, slim frame. Sweat had shimmered, bright, on the stretched, striped skin. A dark linea nigra ran down her middle to her navel. Her belly button was hard and round like a stone. Underneath, she only wore a white two-piece bikini, and her breasts, once small and subtle, hung swollen in her top, nipples and areolae visible.

Mari’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering every time Noemi lifted her slender hands to cup her swell, or when she rose from the sunbathing to reapply sunscreen and Mari saw her from the back; though she still tried to step with her usual grace and poise, her gait was wide, baby obviously dropped between her narrow hips, reducing her to a waddle.

It was a very uncomfortable day to be a lesbian with a fetish that especially appealed on an older woman.

This wasn’t the worst of it, though.

Mari first noticed it when Noemi reached across the table for her drink.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Of course!” Mari squeaked.

Then Noemi’s face changed. Her reaching hand flew to her belly, and Mari followed it to see visible tensing, muscles clenched on either side, misshapen around her huge baby.

“Oh!” she said. There was something in her face now. Surprise, but also a slight urgency.

“Ms. Noemi?” Mari asked. “Are—are you okay?”

“Mm,” Noemi said, and took her glass. “I’m fine. Thank you, Mari.”

This happened multiple times throughout the day, and every time she saw that mound tense then sag, muscles relaxing, Mari’s pussy pounded badly, pulsing.

She stayed in the shade, sipping nothing but cold water with ice while her friend and the others ordered drinks at the pool bar.

After about another hour of this, Mari couldn’t take it. She left and walked to the restrooms and found a stall. Inside it she immediately yanked her bikini bottom down her legs and pressed her fingers to her clit. Her pussy throbbed for release, dripping and clenching. She began to masturbate standing over the toilet, imagining closing her lips around one of Noemi’s stiff, milk-heavy nipples.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck, fuck. Her pussy began to pulsate under her slick fingers. Her thighs shook as she came.

“Shit,” Mari said aloud, then she wiped herself down and pulled her bikini bottom back up and exited the stall, washing the slick from her hands in the sink.

Suddenly the restroom door was flung open. Mari jumped guiltily, then her eyes widened in shock as Noemi raced past her, not even noticing her at the sink, bowed over her low belly, a hand clamped to her crotch. She ran into the handicap stall and slammed the door shut. It was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Ohhhhhh.”

A muted, breathless moan and a loud splashing sound.

Mari stood frozen. She heard a small gasping from the other side of the stall door, and approached hesitantly. She rapped a timid knuckle on the door and the gasps stopped.

“U-um, Ms. Noemi? Are you okay?”

There was silence. Then, “Yes, just some Braxton Hicks contractions. I’m sorry if I startled you, Mari.”

Noemi’s voice sounded strained, so uncharacteristic of her usually soft, modulated tone.

Mari hesitated. “Are you sure? Do you need any help?”

More silence. The stall door unlocked from the inside. Mari pushed it open and her heart thumped in her chest at the sight inside.

Noemi was standing over the toilet, thighs wide apart, knees slightly bent. Her bikini bottom and legs were soaked with fluids. Her belly, somehow, appeared to hang even lower, navel pointed almost to the floor now with weight and fullness. Her face was sweaty, cheeks flushed, short dark hair clinging damply to her forehead.

“Oh my god, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “Your water broke, didn’t it?”

Noemi’s face tightened and she pressed her lips together, nodding and closing her eyes. She clutched reflexively at the orb between her thighs as it flexed, hardening, muscles like iron. Her brow wrinkled and she grunted as though she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore.

“Mari,” she gasped. “I need you to step out, please. I’m—I think I need to—relieve myself.”

Mari shook her head. “I think it’s the baby! Are you feeling like pushing?”

“Ughh.” Noemi’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Yes. I need to push.”

“Oh my—“ Mari trailed off. “We’ve gotta call you an ambulance.”

Suddenly the contraction released Noemi. Her belly slackened. She collapsed onto the toilet seat, thighs spread wide to accommodate her massive stomach. She panted, chest heaving.

“No,” she said. “It will ruin the party.”

“But���“

“Please.” Noemi’s eyes softened, and Mari perceived her desperation clearly. “You’re one of my daughter’s more mature friends. I don’t want to embarrass her or cause a scene, and I need your help.”

Mari gulped. “What can I do?”

Noemi sighed. “Thank you. I just need to last until the party is over.”

The restroom door opened and someone walked in.

“Ms. Noemi? Are you in there?” The voice was a little slurred, tipsy from afternoon drinking.

Noemi composed herself and raised her voice. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“O-o-okay. Haven’t popped yet, have you?”

Noemi managed a weak laugh. “Holding it in.”

For now, Mari thought.

They waited until they heard the door close. Then Noemi said, “Could you—I need you to—” was she—blushing? “I can’t go back out covered in my waters.”

“O-oh,” Mari said, and she was suddenly aware of the distinct odor coming off of Noemi, the scent of her fluids, fecund and thick, the musk of a woman close to birthing. Noemi stood as Mari grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began to dab her formerly lean thighs, thickened over the course of her pregnancy.

“And–” She was really blushing now, Mari marveled. “I’d do it myself but–I can no longer reach around my stomach.”

Happy to. Mari drew her fingers around Noemi’s hips, noting the slight intake of breath as her thumbs brushed swollen underbelly. She hooked her bikini bottom and exposed her fleshy pregnancy pussy, damp and swampy, and the odor was stronger now. Mari breathed.

Then, “you have to close your legs.”

“Mm, trying.” Noemi struggled, the baby lodged in her pelvis making it almost impossible to pinch her knees shut. Her eyes widened. “Oh no…”

Her belly hitched and went hard. Her knees immediately buckled, thighs wide again.

“I need to push,” she said. She groaned as she began to bear down. The sides of her belly sucked in with the force of her pushing.

“No! Ms. Noemi, you have to hold it in, remember?” Mari said.

“Hnnnnfgh,” Noemi groaned. She tried to resist. “Hooh-hooh, god. I need to push.”

Mari, not knowing how to help, planted her palms on Noemi’s belly and rubbed the hot, furious skin. It burned under her palms, fevered. She could feel the desperate convulsions of Noemi’s strong internal muscles as they worked to expel her baby against her efforts.

“Oh,” Noemi grunted.

“Sorry!”

“No! No–ouugh–please. Don’t stop.”

Noemi closed her eyes and raised her chin, swaying back and forth as Mari stroked the tight, oblong surface. Experimentally, she flicked her thumb across Noemi’s bulging navel, and Noemi shivered.

The contraction ended, leaving Noemi worn and restless, her baby’s head burrowed deeper into her birth canal, fuller even, than she’d been before her labor. Mari removed her hands from Noemi’s belly, and Noemi appeared embarrassed, almost bashful.

“I wish–hah–you didn’t have to see me like this, much less care for me in such a compromising–ugh–condition. Modesty is hard enough to maintain when it comes to pregnancy.”

“You’re beautiful,” Mari said honestly.

Startled and disarmed, Noemi looked at her. It could have been the heat flush, or she could have been blushing again.

Part Two

They exited the restroom together and for the next hour, Noemi mingled near the pool bar, a drink in hand, and endured the powerful, relentless contractions. Mari stood beside her, and the first time another contraction struck she saw Noemi double over, muscles banding her belly, legs widening instinctively.

“Oh,” she whispered. “OH. I’m pushinnng-hnnngh.”

“No, you’re not,” Mari hissed back. “You can do this.” She placed a covert hand on Noemi’s curved back, massaging it gently, already accustomed to touching Noemi’s exposed, laboring body.

Noemi straightened, and painstakingly closed her legs as much as she could, attempting to hold her baby firm in her canal. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her grunts diminished into effortful pants.

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I don’t think anybody noticed.”

“Good,” Noemi moaned under her breath. “Good. I’m feeling like pushing all the time now, even when the contraction’s gone. There’s so much pressure, right between my legs.”

Another contraction that hour had Noemi leaning heavily on Mari for support, her obtrusive belly pushing into Mari’s own flat tummy, making Mari wonder at the sensation of such a packed, heavy womb. She could feel the steely stretched muscles rippling against her. The skin contact moved heat from Mari’s stomach to between her legs, and again her pussy was beating, quick and warm like a pulse. She worried that she was leaking through her bikini bottom now, dizzied by arousal. Then Noemi moaned in her ear, arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Mari felt a wetness drip down her inner thigh.

“Aye, go get your mom!”

“Should she be drinking in that state?”

Luckily, everyone was too drunk at this point to think much about it.

Contractions were gripping Noemi mercilessly now, with barely any pause or respite, and she was barely holding on every time, fighting her body, her deep primal instinct to bear down against the baby in her canal. Every time Mari anchored her, caressing her hard belly, urging her gently, just hang on a little while longer. The last contraction left Noemi senseless with pain and need, foggy-headed. Her legs were permanently spread now, stance ridiculously wide.

“Oh, dear…” she breathed, and Mari followed her gaze to her front. Two wet spots had formed in her bikini top, nipples standing straight through the fabric.

“Ms. Noemi,” Mari said, summoning her courage. She looked Noemi in the eye. “Let me help you.”

Noemi let herself be led to the restrooms again, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, everything about her so full and aching.

“You don’t need to come in with me,” she said. “I can, ah, expel the milk on my own.”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “I promised I’d take care of you.”

Noemi was blushing hard now, appearing almost drunk in her labored state. She allowed Mari to sit her down on the toilet. Mari gently teased the white bikini top from her breasts, and Noemi shivered, curling her toes at just the light brush of fabric against her sensitive nipples. Her dark areolas spread over her breasts, and around them blue veins ran through soft, tan skin. Her nipples jutted stiffly, heavy and laden, beaded at the tips with milk.

Mari set the flat of her hand against one and marveled as more milk beaded at the surface and then began to drip down the swell of Noemi’s breast and onto the long shelf of her belly. Noemi hissed, a sharp intake of air.

“Okay?”

Noemi nodded, unable to speak. Keep going.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Mari said. She sat on Noemi’s lap and clamped her mouth around her nipple, cupping her other breast in her hand. Milk spurted from both breasts in tiny forceful streams. Noemi clapped a hand over her mouth to contain a sharp noise of pleasure and release, her back arching, other hand raised, opening and closing in the air. Mari suckled, feeling Noemi squirm under her, and lowered her free hand between her own legs, strumming her clit. Suddenly Noemi’s belly went hard again and she threw back her head to moan loudly, and Mari couldn’t tell whether from ecstasy or agony or a thrilling mixture of both.

“Oh, oh—Mari, please don’t—don’t stop. Fuck.”

Mari continued to suckle and the hand groping Noemi’s breast slid to her swell instead, tracing her linea nigra. There was no give to the surface, drum-tight, and Mari could feel Noemi’s belly seize violently, driving her baby down in a deep, involuntary push. Noemi’s moan lowered, guttural with sudden pushing, and Mari instantly took her lips away from Noemi’s breast. The milk stream diminished to dribble, her breasts not even close to being drained. Noemi squirmed at the sudden lapse.

“No pushing, remember?” Mari had settled well into a dominant role, playing out her ultimate fantasy, Noemi utterly receptive, responding to her every demand.

She breathed, slowly, and her hard belly relaxed somewhat.

“Good,” Mari said.

Noemi shuddered. “Yes, just—please. Continue.”

Mari smiled and said something she’d always wanted to say to Noemi: “Good girl.” The faint marks in the corners of her mouth, the maturity in her maternal hips, the refined elegance of her fingers—it was all subversive.

“I’ve never—never been called that by anyone,” Noemi panted. “Especially not someone no twenty years my junior.”

Mari bent her head again and Noemi’s lips tightened in preparation. She latched back onto her nipple, milk gushing into her mouth, and began to thumb Noemi’s stony pointed navel, her entire belly an erogenous zone at this point, her navel the sensory peak. Noemi nearly shrieked, delirious, and beneath her thighs Mari felt her hips bucking, building not only toward delivery now, but a climax. Mari continued to masturbate herself furiously, working her mouth at the same time, sinking her teeth lightly into Noemi’s breast, just enough to leave light, red marks. Noemi’s thighs began to quake with tremors and Mari’s pussy squeezed tight, clit bared—she gasped against Noemi’s soft chest at the same time that Noemi’s lips parted in a perfect O. Then they both trembled through watery orgasms.

Noemi looked at her with glassy eyes, hazy. She leaned in, lips soft and open and receptive for a kiss—then stopped, delicate features twisting into a grimace, and released a thunderous groan, lifting her bottom off the toilet seat with the force of her pushing. Her eyes went wide. Mari could tell something had changed. She was feeling something, deep inside of herself.

She tried to articulate the sensation. “Guh—the baby, it’s—mmmm, it’s right between—the baby’s in my vagina!”

Mari looked at her. She was desperate, out of control, her face flushed and beaded with sweat, moist short hair clinging to her forehead. Her contracting belly, lower than ever.

Mari leaned forward and rammed a kiss onto her lips, and made her taste her own milk.

Part Three

Mari rose from Noemi’s lap. Her tortured spasming belly hung so low at this point that even when she raised herself from the toilet seat Mari still couldn’t see her pussy, just the creases where her extreme underbelly sank into the flesh of her hips, and the tiny white string of her bikini bottom wrapping them, dragged by the heavy downward sag. Noemi was already trying to push again, nothing else in her mind except the baby now coming out of her. Legs planted wide, firmly squatted. It didn’t seem like she could even straighten up at this point, so heavy and low with the head. She grunted loudly, frantic in her efforts to pull her bikini bottom down her thighs and alleviate the immense pressure in her bottom. Sweat poured from her slick skin. She was obviously in the final stages of labor, and like she had been twenty-one years ago, she was consumed by the need to birth her baby.

Mari stood, watching in the sticky panties she’d just masturbated herself hard in, pussy still convulsing. She could see the light red teeth marks ringing Noemi’s areola. She had marked her. Noemi was hers. And yet, she wasn’t paying any mind to the girl who had suckled her to orgasm. Her only focus was pushing her baby out into her bikini, and once she did that she would become a mother again. Mari felt insecure, possessive. Would things return to the way they had been before? Noemi never noticing her, never giving her the attention she had craved. Suddenly, Mari reached for Noemi’s fingers at the hem of her bikini.

“Ms. Noemi.” Her voice was a firm reprimand. “I thought you wanted me to help you. I can’t help you if you push your baby out right now.”

Noemi could barely talk at this point. “Have—to—PUSH.” Mari still felt that awe, seeing such an articulate, modest woman reduced to animalistic instinct. She groaned, bearing down more, and her groan tightened as the baby was driven deeper into her bottom.

Mari circled her, tracing her fingers lightly from Noemi’s contraction-wracked torpedo belly to her curving bent back. Standing behind her now, she took Noemi’s delicate wrists in her hands and moved them away from the bikini bottom. Then she bent to see Noemi’s squatted thighs and bottom, and between her cheeks the wetted white bikini was beginning to tent outward. Mari gently rolled the bikini down to Noemi’s widespread knees. The pregnancy pussy she had just seen hours ago was now unrecognizably swollen and bulged with a startlingly huge head, yet her lips had barely parted. Mari wasn’t even sure if Noemi could birth something so big. Between Noemi’s thighs she could see her brown hanging belly harden again, the contractions now relentless, forcing Noemi into constant pushing.

As she watched, Noemi’s pussy bulged more and reddened. Her lips slowly began to part, distending—until Mari clapped her hand over the head. Noemi’s hot pussy strained against her palm, but Mari didn’t permit the head to progress any further. She heard Noemi’s strangled sob of frustration.

“It’s okay,” Mari cooed. “If you can’t hold it in, I can for you.”

Gently, she slipped the bikini bottom back up Noemi’s thighs and pulled it firmly over her hips, wedging the baby tight in her pussy. It yielded a little, but certainly not enough for Noemi to deliver the head. Noemi gasped at the feeling of the fabric against her sensitive, tender opening.

Mari then redid Noemi’s top, tying it in the back.

“There,” she appraised Noemi, trembling and gasping, filled completely with her baby. “I think you’re ready to go back out. People are probably getting suspicious of us.”

“Okay,” Noemi closed her eyes. “Just a little longer.”

“That’s it, Ms. Noemi!” Mari’s eyes lit up. “Hold it in for me.”

It was evening now. A lot of people had deserted, and those who stayed were trashed, too inebriated to notice Mari step out with Noemi in tow. They didn’t notice that Noemi only walked in a squatted position now, knees bent, legs far apart. They didn’t notice the sweat beading her forehead, or the flush of her cheeks. They didn’t notice her hanging belly, constantly constricting with contractions and hard unceasing pushes. And they certainly didn’t notice the conspicuous bulge straining her bikini bottom, dripping fluids from between her thighs.

Nobody assumed such a composed woman would be bent under the thumb of a girl twenty years younger than her, crowning into her bikini right there at the poolside.

Noemi staggered to a wicker pool chair, and slowly lowered herself with Mari’s help, only to yelp and cringe away when her bulged bottom made contact with the seat.

“Here—“ Mari said. “Try to sit back instead.”

Noemi sat with her back arched, legs open to the poolside, so that the head rested in her pussy without being crammed between her and the chair. She was already pushing, her knuckles white, gripping the arm rests so hard, Mari thought they might snap in her grasp. Her toes curled. Liquid pattered the deck beneath the chair, a puddle spreading under her. The head parted her more. She seemed unable to spread her legs wide enough, grunting and pushing and stretching. Even when she paused, it no longer slid back in, kept her lips taut and spread.

She pushed. The head no longer moved. The fabric trapped it snugly. She pushed again. Hard. Nothing. She pushed and pushed, caught in endless contractions and pushes. Mari heard her name panted, again and again, as she circled the head over the fabric with light fingers. Satisfaction stirred her.

Noemi was hers.

Finally, Noemi clambered heavily from her seat. She dropped into a deep squat on the deck and threw her head back, interrupting her silent pushes with a strained moan as she bore down once again, pained for leverage, obeying her instinctual need for a position change despite her unyielding clothes. Mari heard her joints pop; her forty-something body was at its limit.

It was time. They both sensed it.

Mari leaned in. Her breath shivered Noemi’s ear. “Are you ready, Noemi?” she whispered, forgoing the “Ms” title for the first time.

Noemi nodded. Once.

Mari paused. “Are you sure?”

Noemi nodded vigorously as she heaved with another push.

“Come on, then.”

The party was over. Nobody was left except for Noemi’s daughter, who had been laying passed out in a reclining chair since noon.

The pool water was cool on Mari’s skin as she waded down the steps. She discarded her bikini as she went, and the cold pricked up her bare nipples. Noemi breathed a deep sigh as she waded in herself. The water enveloped her thighs, her heavy submerging belly, and finally her splayed breasts as she sank. Mari swam up behind her and hugged her around the circumference of her gravid belly. She pressed herself to the curve of Noemi’s back, naked skin touching as they drifted for a second. Only a second, though. Soon it was over and Noemi was placing her head back, into Mari’s shoulder, and pushing. Mari’s hands traveled to Noemi’s bikini bottom and—

“Push for me,” she breathed, and pulled it down.

Noemi shouted loudly and groaned her baby into Mari’s hand. Her vaginal lips stretched, forming an angry fervent oval around the massive head. She groaned, forceful in her efforts. Her thighs gaped open in the water. Her pussy was a slick, round, red circle now, straining and slipping around the head. Her groans were almost inhuman, overwhelmed with need and desire and basic instinct. Mari felt the head inch out with Noemi’s powerful pushes, and admired its size and width. This was coming from Noemi, coming through her, creaking her aged bones and spreading her in a way she hadn’t been since her youth.

Her belly raised and then dropped with a final push, the drawn muscles of her uterus convulsing, and she shrieked. The head reached its widest point. Eyes, nose, ears, she opened around each feature. For a moment her lips whitened, pale around the head. Then a pop, a burst, a release. Noemi shuddered. Her legs jerked in the water and opaque amniotic fluids spilled from her.

“Uggghhh.”

“You did it,” Mari said. She marveled at Noemi’s motherly drive as she caressed the head hanging from Noemi’s pussy. “Just the shoulders now.”

“Ohhhh,” Noemi brought her hand between her legs, holding Mari’s as they both cupped the head. “My baby,” she panted. “My baby….”

“Let’s meet her together,” Mari whispered.

Noemi arched in the pool, belly and breasts and upturned nipples raising above the water. With a sweet, quiet groan, she gave birth into Mari’s waiting hands.

Noemi sat beside the pool on the reclining chair, her stomach sagging in her lap, ruined by a dark linea nigra. Her short hair plastered her forehead. Her attention was on the baby suckling at her milky breast. She looked up when Mari trotted to her with spare towels, and smiled tiredly.

Mari leaned down and wrapped her in the towel, and kissed her on the cheek.

“So,” Noemi said. “How do we tell my other daughter?”

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello, Happy Holy Ramadan. I know your request box is closed, but when your request box is opened, can you make this request? if it doesn't bother you, could you do Long Ramadan headcanons for Damian Wayne and the reader? I saw your Damian wayne x muslim reader post before. And I thought it was appropriate to ask you this. If this request bothers you, feel free to ignore it. Have a nice day 🩷🩷🩷🤚

Ramadan HCs

Muslim!Damian Wayne x Muslim!Reader

hey there sweetheart and Ramadan Mubarak <3! firstly i'm so sorry that it took me so long to respond to the ask! im ashamed it took me a year honestly. requests are closed but i still wanted to be able to write for this because we obviously need more muslim representation and also the last time i posted the muslim hc for damian there were just so many of the readers who texted me or sent asks or commented saying that they really appreciated the representation

anyways i wasn't sure if i was going to respond or not because it has been a year but since it is currently Ramadan and it's going to end very soon I figured why not

Thank you for being so respectful in your ask, I really appreciate it and I hope you like it. Hope you have a very blessed Ramadan and wishing everyone a lot of health and happiness during this time. Even to my non-muslim readers, I hope you all are doing well and you're all healthy <3333

also i know that there is a very slim chance of this happening because all of you are amazing but i will not tolerate any hate of any kind. if you

your first Ramadan after being married to Damian was certainly a new experience

before being married, you were just used to your parents handling everything for you

by the time you wake up for suhoor, the table would be set

by the time you'd be home from university, your mother would be waiting by the door with a date and a glass of water

so now that you were married and you had to handle everything on your own, it took a little bit of getting used to

luckily for you, Damian is a very hands on type of man

he's the kind of person who'd just drink a cup of water or a glass of milk, maybe a couple of dates or a fruit and he'd be ok for the remainder of the day

but god forbid you even think of doing the same thing

he'd just about have a heart attack

absolutely not

initially, he'd request Alfred to make meals for you so he could bring them home for the both of you to have suhoor together

just until the both of you got the hang of it

after that damian would either help you cook before patrol so there would be food ready for the both of you

or he'd swing by some restaurant that was open and grab some takeout for the both of you

he'd heat up the food and set the table and making sure everything was absolutely ready before finally waking you up

practically carrying your sleepyass to the table and handfeeding you so he can make sure you're eating properly

since he handles suhoor, you handle iftar and keep the table set so you can eat together

you could always just stay at the manor so you wouldn't have to worry about the meals, like bruce or dick have suggested so many times

but you prefer living alone with your husband

no offense to them at all

but it's just easier for you to maintain your modesty at your own home

anyways

your marriage gets really tested during Ramadan

the two of you are barely getting any sleep and it's difficult for you both to get used to

the only time that you both spend together and are completely present is when he should be patrolling

the lack of sleep makes you both kind of cranky

and it's difficult to not snap at each other

eventually you both get pretty tired and exhausted and just slip into routine

but of course it's nothing some sleep and some time spent together can't solve

and since you've been trying to reduce watching movies and listening to music during the holy month, you end up playing board games together or going for long drives together where you just talk and talk and talk

you thought you were extremely secure in your marriage

that was until you saw damian pout and give you the silent treatment after losing a game of gin rummy

then claiming you shouldn't be playing a game called 'jinn' in the first place

not swearing or talking shit during ramadan was especially hard for him

especially with tim and steph yelling 'fi ramadan?' at him everytime he makes even the slightest snide comment

you find it hilarious but i digress

whenever you go to the masjid for nightly prayers, damian and you will go and find a new ice cream place to try out late at night

you mention in passing how the women's side of the mosque is so bland compared to the men's and damian immediately looks into getting the mosque refurbished so that you and other women can enjoy it

damian's shoes get stolen once and the great detective actually couldn't find out who it was

you hear him complain about it constantly

CONSTANTLY

this time is when you both really lean into the adorable muslim couple aesthetic

matching prayer mats with each of your names embroidered on it

matching tasbih

and other things you get the picture

you both go all out for ramadan and decorate your home from top to bottom

since you both don't really celebrate many of the western holidays, he really wants to make this a memorable time for the both of you

and so do you

you hold an iftar party at your place many times with all your friends and family

it started out with you just inviting everyone but eventually it became a weekly potluck, which you really appreciated

bro damian is more excited about Eid than you are

he literally has to keep reminding you to get your dress ready for Eid al fitr

because he wants to get a jubbah in a matching color and surprise you

you know how you have those cute texts of girlies asking their bfs for their opinions on their nails?

the exact same thing

except with HENNA

you send him like 100 different pictures a week, planning which design you want to wear for Eid

he responds to all of them with utmost seriousness

obviously, he's an artist

he knows whats the difference between arabic and indian designs for henna

but secretly he's wondering why you're sending him so many when you only have 2 hands

but um hello he's never going to tell you that

because it's ramadan and obv ramadan related stuff is going to be appearing on everyones fyp he has to deal with both you and dick sending him videos of the scholars being funny (iykyk)

hey guys let's start ramadan w a bang

also has to deal with jason asking him CONSTANTLY how he's still able to walk around when all the demons are supposed to be locked up for the month

plus he has to now deal with you watching mukbangs and restaurant reviews and crying to him about how you're starving

why on earth did silent asmr mukbangs of wingstop get so popular only during ramadan?

believe me every single prayer damian makes during this month, he is thanking god for bringing you to him and praying for your health and your happiness

when you found out, you cried in his arms for a good solid 5 minutes

he also secretly kind of prayed for kids on laylat ul qadr but you didn't hear it from me

not only is this month really special for the both of you, you take it as an opportunity to give back

damian has wayne enterprises run soup kitchens for the entire month and they serve all people meals as well as suhoor and iftar

you both volunteer there personally

you donate money of course and damian will tell you that everytime he does it, he feels fulfilled in a way he never has before

you honestly feel so proud of the man you feel blessed to call your husband

also, like the perfect husband he is, he sends gifts and food to your parents

who quickly begin to regard him as better than your own siblings

much to his secret pleasure

uk i wish i could keep going

honestly ramadan is such a magical and rewarding time of the year

and you are so happy to spend it along with damian

P.S.

while damian completely understood the point of sacrificing a goat for Eid al adha

he still cried about it to you the night before out of guilt

you definitely donated the meat that came out of that

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

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@evermoore580

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@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[eepwriting]

Pretty Sounds ✶ IV x Fem! Reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, drinking, recording (with consent), oral (f receiving), fingering

!! mdi !!

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When iv suggested that you come stay with him for a couple days, you jumped at the opportunity. He would be leaving for tour soon and you both knew the chances of seeing each other for more than a day were slim to none.

You had your own responsibilities back home. Work, pets, your own friends and family to tend to and an apartment to keep up with. So touring with him and or taking multiple days off of work was just not in the cards for you.

The past few days had been exciting, relaxing and exhausting. You had visited iv plenty of times at this point but he was always excited to show you around the place where he grew up. Excitedly dragging you to his favorite spots, detailing stories from his youth, and of course taking your picture in front of every building you said was cool or pretty.

With all the fun and exploring, iv still had his own work responsibilities to deal with. Whether it be practice or meetings with the rest of the team, he and everyone else wanted to make sure the tour ran smoothly. Some days he’d be gone from sun up to sun down, always apologizing for leaving you alone all day.

You fully understood what you were getting yourself into when the two of you started dating so you never gave him a hard time about it. You had brought plenty of things to keep yourself occupied.

So when iv kissed you on forehead this morning and said he’d be back late, you were of course a little disappointed but knew you could keep yourself busy.

The day had actually gone relatively quickly. You spent the day reading, watching a couple episodes of the show you were currently trying to catch up on and cleaning up around the apartment.

After the kitchen was near spotless, you opened the fridge and spotted a bottle of wine that had been chilling for the past few days. You couldn’t remember where it had come from, only that iv “took one sip and gagged” so you knew that he wouldn’t be disappointed if you had a couple drinks. Grabbing a wine glass, you poured a small amount and took a tentative sip. It wasn’t the worst thing you had ever tasted but also not good by any means. Dry and notes of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Eh, it’d do the trick.

Needing to bathe and feeling the soreness in your legs and back from all the walking you’d done this week, a hot bath sounded like the perfect way to end the day. With your glass and the bottle of wine you made your way to the bathroom. After plugging the drain, you turned the water to almost the hottest setting and watched the tub start to fill.

You wanted some bubbles, so you opened the cabinet under the sink in search for anything that’d do the trick. Settling on some of iv’s old body wash.

After stripping and pulling your hair into a loose bun, you stepped into the tub. The hot water felt great on your sore muscles and when paired with the wine that was already working its magic, you started to feel a little sleepy. You didn’t want to fully fall asleep, deciding to scroll through your phone for a while and sip on your wine.

Some time had passed, how much? You couldn’t really tell. All you knew was that the water was significantly cooler than before and that there were only about 3 sips of wine left in the bottle. Not wanting to get out quite yet, you closed your eyes for a minute and laid your head back against the wall. You found yourself humming a tune of a song you couldn’t remember and through your humming, thought you heard the sound of a door closing. It was a little hard to tell in your tipsy state.

Hearing soft footsteps and a creak at the bathroom door, your heavy eyes opened to reveal iv leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi baby!” Your hand came up in a small but excited wave. IV cracked a smile and could definitely tell you had been drinking just by the way you said those two words.

“Hi. You been having fun?” Said with a small chuckle. He fully stepped into the bathroom and took a seat on the closed toilet.

“Oh yeah. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I drank some of the delicious wine. You know, since you think it’s so gross.” You giggled slightly, hearing yourself slurring certain words.

“Hmm, how much did you drink?” He reaches down to pick the bottle up. “Oh! The whole thing huh?” He says with a laugh and a surprised look on his face.

“Well I didn’t mean to.” You shrugged. “I think time got away from me a little bit.” You held up your thumb and pointer finger in an effort to show how long you’d been in the bath.

“It’s okay.” He laughed. “I’m just glad you’re drunk here and not somewhere else.”

You rested your head against the lip of the tub, the coolness feeling nice against your temple. “Come here, I missed you.” You reached an arm out towards iv, ignoring the small drops of water hitting the floor.

He gladly took your hand and slid off the toilet seat to kneel down next to the tub. Your wet hands slid up and around his neck to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around you.

“I’m getting you all wet.” You said.

“Mm it’s okay, I don’t mind.” You felt him squeeze you a little tighter and place a kiss on your shoulder.

The two of you stayed that way for a short while before pulling away. IV looked down at the wine bottle, picked it up and finished off the rest of the wine, not without a deep look of disgust. “This shit is horrible, how did you drink this whole thing?” He wipes his mouth.

“I don’t really know, it started to taste okay after a while.” You reached out for him again. He let you pull him to you and wrapped his arms around you again. To say you got a little touchy when you drank was a slight understatement and now having iv home and touching you, you couldn’t help yourself. Turning your head, you started placing small kisses on his neck and jaw. Small kisses soon turned into open mouth ones and the quiet groans coming from iv only egged you on more.

“Mm, do you need something?” He asked, gently pulling your head up and away from his neck to look at you.

You giggled slightly. “Kind of.” You leaned in to place kiss on his mouth, which he gladly accepted. Both his hands on the side of your face, he deepened the kiss.

He moved to your cheek and jaw, placing kisses here and there. “Well, can I help you with that?” He mumbled.

You laughed “Yes, please.”

“Drain the tub and I’ll get your towel, okay?” He placed a final kiss on your lips and pulled away to stand.

You pulled the drain plug and moved your wine glass and bottle to the side before standing up. Shivering from the cooler air hitting your skin, you gladly accepted the towel iv handed you. He grabbed your hand to help you step out of the tub and soon started running his hands up and down your arms and sides. Simultaneously helping you dry off and warm up. “Don’t forget your legs.” He took the towel from you once your top half was dry, kneeling down to dry the front and back of your legs. Before standing, he placed a couple kisses on your stomach and thighs, almost as if he couldn’t help himself.

You whined slightly, begging him to stand up and stop teasing.

“Go lay down, I’ll clean up in here.” Tightening the towel around you, he gently pushed you out the door and towards the bedroom. Once there, you pulled the elastic from your hair, letting it fall. Making sure you were completely dry, you laid down, towel still wrapped around you as were still shivering. Iv returned shortly, crawling from the foot of the bed up to you. Bending down, he kissed you, fast and hungry, his hands wandering everywhere.

You couldn’t help the small whines and moans crawling up from your throat. The feel of all of him plus the alcohol creating a whole different sensation. He abruptly pulls away from you, eliciting another groan, this time purely from frustration.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Oh nothing baby. I think…the sounds you make are always pretty but tonight they sound extra nice.” He leans back in to place a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “You don’t have to say yes, but could I record your pretty sounds? Just for me to hear? You know for when I’m gone? Please.” He looks at you with the most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen so you couldn’t possibly say no. Plus the thought of him listening to you when he’s away and physically can’t have you, turns you on more than you’d like to admit.

“Yes, of course baby.”

The look on his face akin to that of someone seeing snow for the first time, he rushes to fish his phone out of this pocket. Opening his camera, scrolling to the video setting, he presses record and sets his phone down next to your head.

“Thank you baby. Don’t be quiet now.” He resumes his messy kisses, trailing them down your neck. Grabbing both ends of the towel wrapped around you, he tosses them aside, letting out a quiet groan just at the sight of you. His mouth comes down onto one of your nipples, one hand on the other, tweaking and pulling. More moans fall from your mouth, everything feeling more sensitive than normal.

Your sounds seem to egg him on, almost turning him into an animal. He lightly digs his teeth into the flesh of your tit before making his way down your stomach, licking a stripe down along the way. When he meets the place you need his mouth most, you hear and feel him take a deep breath. His tongue comes out to draw small circles around your clit but never actually touches it. He continues his teasing for longer than you’d like before finally placing his tongue over your clit, sucking hard.

You moan loud, your hips bucking, finally getting what you want. You hear him slightly chuckle into you, the vibrations from him only helping more. He then licks a wide stripe from your opening up to your clit, again and again and again. You’re a moaning mess as this point but you want more.

“Baby, please.” You tap on his hand that’s been placed on your hip in an effort to keep you still.

“Hm, what do you want baby? Tell me what you want.” He takes a breath and looks up at you. You wrap your palm around two of his fingers, hoping he gets the hint. “Ohh, you want these?” He slightly wiggles his fingers with a dopey smile on his face.

You eagerly nod your head, not caring how excited you seemed. “Well get em wet for me.” His hand slides up your body, his pointer and middle finger tapping on your bottom lip. You slowly open your mouth, allowing him to place his fingers on your tongue. Mouth closed, you swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking a little for extra measure. IV looks up at you with a blank but dazed look, his eyes only focused on his fingers in your mouth. You grab his forearm before pulling his fingers out, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

A mumbled “shit” comes from him before his now wet fingers come down to draw tight circles over your clit before trailing down to probe at your entrance. You moan a frustrated moan just wanting to be fucked by his fingers before he finally pushes both in at once. Your breath catches in your throat, producing an almost silent cry from you. His thumb comes up to rub at your clit and it’s almost too much. Your mind foggy from the wine and lust, your body buzzing with pleasure. You squeeze your eyes shut to completely melt into the sensations you’re feeling.

You feel iv at your side now, kissing on your chest and neck, all while his hand is still working between your legs. You open your eyes and turn your head to see him, placing a hand on the back of his neck, bringing his mouth to yours. You both moan into the kiss, your fingers threading through his hair. With his fingers and thumb still working you at lightning speed, you feel yourself getting close.

IV can tell and pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, whispering words of encouragement to you. “C’mon baby. Let go for me. You look so pretty like this.” He places a kiss on your mouth between every encouragement and praise. Before you know it, your release hits you like a truck, your head rolling back, a quiet but high pitched moan falling from your mouth. “There you go. So good for me baby.” You can barely hear him speak, too preoccupied by your own pleasure.

IV’s fingers continue to work you through your climax, only moving much slower now. You feel him placing lazy kisses everywhere and anywhere while you slowly come down from your high. His movements eventually stop all together before he pulls his fingers from you. His other hand comes up to pause the recording on his phone, which you had almost completely forgot about.

“I’m gonna love listening to this baby. Thank you.” He smoothes some of your hair down before placing a kiss on your forehead. You let out a lazy hum, still too dazed to give a proper answer.

You reach out for him “Now let me help you.” Your voice quiet and relaxed.

“Not yet pretty, I have to make up for all the time you’ve spent by yourself.” He says as he makes his way down to settle between your legs again.

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This is kinda long so I apologize. This is also my first time writing in like…6 years or something so I’m sorry if this is shit.

I’m currently taking requests so if you’d like to see anything in particular just use the request button on my blog :)

K thanks for reading. Bye bye

[starb3rrys]

Hello, can I request Jouno giving you aftercare? Just you not being able to walk and full of bruises and him needing to help you while teasing you yk? If you want, can you also do a Tecchou one?

Anyways- your writing is amazing :]

Agh!! I apologize for the late reply. I love writing some sweet aftercare fluff for this iconic duo! I might do a part 2 with different characters in the near future considering I have some other cute takes on how each character pampers their s/o after utterly ravaging them- (￣ω￣;). Anyways, thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sweet Ol' Aftercare

Ft. Jouno, Tecchou

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jouno

Soft breaths surround the room as your aching body quivers under Jouno's. Your head was spinning, unable to form any thoughts as the overwhelming feeling of pure bliss was screwing with your senses. A familiar chuckle snapped you back into reality as the sheets rustled, "Quite ironic and hilarious to hear you become an exhausted, drooling mess after getting what you were nagging me all day for." Soft lips kissed your neck as slim fingers caressed your sore legs. "Was it worth it? Was it worth getting all sore and bruised up?", he teased as his breath tickled against your skin. You tried your best to muster up a snarky response...a simple "shut up" or "go to hell" would've sufficed. Unfortunately, your throat was pretty much spent from letting out loud cries and serving as Jouno's personal fleshlight. He quietly laughed to himself as he heard you struggling to even form a sentence, taking pride in the fact he was the sole reason for your aching.

His fingers traced your collarbone, feeling the bite marks and warm spots--indicating just how much he marked you. "Do they sting a lot?", he asked with a tender tone. As much as Jouno loves to tease and playfully bully you just to see you argue back or get all pent up (Fucking Sadist-), he does genuinely care and wants to make sure he wasn't too overly rough on you. You sigh, noticing his concern...you shake your head slowly. He grinned, "Always so stubborn...come on, admit you liked it". You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He tried to hold back a laugh, "Oh come on, I know you can say it...you didn't seem to hesitate letting out those erotic words and begs to me earlier, don't get shy now", he teased. He felt your body heat up and tremble under his fingertips, "Fine, I suppose ill let you stay quiet this time considering how tired you are...but, by the way you were squeezing me so tight earlier, I know what the answer is."

Jouno's arms found their way around your waist as he helped you sit up in bed, placing your back against the headboard. He left and soon returned with a cup of water, offering it to you. Your arms shakily reached for the cup and you swear it weighed like 5 pounds. Jouno heard the water shake, indicating that your hold was not at all steady. He moved closer and helped you hold the cup, "Open up and slowly drink some, Okay? Don't rush", he told you as his eyebrows knitted together. You slowly drank some water, the water freshly soothed your sore throat...the feeling of cold hydration was amazing. Jouno pulled the cup away and set it down on the nightstand. "Can you even feel your legs?", he asked with a slight chuckle. You shook your head as you gazed down at your bitten and bruised up thighs. Jouno nodded and stood up, his arm swiftly went under your knees and the other on your back. He carried you towards the bathroom, feeling your head on his chest as your hands weakly rested around his neck made him smile, you were so vulnerable and depended on him for help. He turned on the warm water as he entered the shower, placing you onto your feet. Your back rested against his chest for support as the water coated you both. "Now, I may love you but I dislike the scent of your sweat...it makes my nose hurt", he said as he caressed your arms under the warm water...

Tecchou

Soft taps on your cheek followed by a low and breathless voice, "Hey...Hey, are you okay?". No words fell from your lips as you attempted to catch your breath, the consequence of Tecchous neediness and desperation. Clothes lied scattered around the room, thrown and ripped off without care prior. A small smile filled Tecchous lips, his hands moving your hair to the side. "I see you're still conscious but...wow...", his voice drew shivers down your spine as his fingers touched your bruised neck. "I really do act like a feral dog around you, marking my territory.", he teased with a low chuckle. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, embarrassment filled your senses as your shaky hands covered your face. He grinned, "Oh don't be shy now, you know you loved every mark I left on you." Your eyes focused and widened as Tecchou sat up straight and gave you a full view of his own marked body; chest, neck, arms, and back were covered in bruises/bites and scratches...made by your handy work. "Your shyness was nowhere to be seen when you marked me all up, now was it?". He was right, you didn’t hesitate for a second when you scratched his back and bit his neck as he practically rammed you into the mattress, the memory was enough to fluster you.

He frowned slightly and let his hand travel up your jaw, gently gripping your chin. "Look at me...", his voice was hoarse yet tender making it seem like more of a request than a command. Your unfocused eyes met his, dragging a smile onto his lips. "Are you okay?", his words were filled with concern as his soft eyes scanned your features, your heart fluttered. Tecchou's hands drew up your thighs with care, "Your legs are trembling, was I too rough?". Your soft head shakes were enough to reassure him you were okay...Tecchou could be a rough and teasing individual when you two slept together, but he always took care of you as if you were the most delicate and fragile thing on earth. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss onto your lips, your hands traveled onto his hair as he kissed you with such love. His hands massaged your sore hips, his lips moved down and kissed the deep hickeys left on your neck. Each kiss felt like a spark, soothing and relaxing your body under his touch.

Tecchou stood up and grabbed a wet towel, he carefully moved your legs apart and cleaned you gently. "We can change the bedsheets later...", he said as he put the towel away and laid beside you. His strong arms pulled you into him, firm arms wrapped around your waist. Your head rested against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat made your eyes grow heavy. He kissed the top of your head, "We'll shower in a bit...but for now...". His voice grew farther and farther as your bruised body gave into slumber..."rest up, my love"...

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I loved writing this one-shot! My favorite part was definitely Jouno. I decided to make Tecchou a bit less teasing and more comforting in his part since I believe his main concern would be making sure his s/o is okay- Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this fluff one-shot! Love ya! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[violetsiren90]

The Lighthouse Keeper

~a What the Moon Saw drabble~

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends, angst

Summary: Life moves on. The moon blooms and wilts. The tide sinks away from the sands and returns with new waters. Yoongi stays.

Content warnings: PG rating, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; drinking and drunkenness (set in a cantina); cigarette smoking; Yoongi gets hit on; longing and pining; sad Yoongi 😔; some ogling of a female character by Hoseok; reference to the death of a minor character; allusions to domestic violence; allusions to semi-homelessness; allusions to casual sexual encounters; this is just pure angst, honestly.

Word Count: ~1600

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my WIP folder, and in the wee hours of the morning last week I sat in a hospital cafeteria with the shittiest cup of coffee I've ever tasted (that I was nonetheless grateful for) and finished it up. Poor, sweet Yoongi . These two are my comfort couple and coming back to them has a way of reminding me that "nobody knows how the story ends - live the day, do what you can."*

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

*"Nobody Knows", the Lumineers

"Alright, old buddy, what's got you down?" 

     A slim, dark-haired young man slid into the booth across from Yoongi. The older man's eyes softened slightly, and his mouth quirked up into a small smile as he regarded his companion over a swig of Pacifico.

     "Who says I'm down?" he asked in a mildly affronted tone, drawing a hand over his beer-slicked lips.

     The other man's mouth broke into a toothy smile, his lips pulling into a heart-shaped grin as he let out a boisterous peal of laughter.

     "You never call these days unless you are," he rejoined, grabbing a foggy acrylic standee from the center of the table and squinting at its small list of beverages. "Geez, they really don't have much of a selection here, do they?" 

     Yoongi snorted.

     "Since when are you an alcohol connoisseur? You don't even drink, Hoba."

     "I do too!"

     A waitress sidled up to their table and slid a food menu in front of Hoseok, who trailed wide eyes up her tattooed arm to her bright blue pixie cut with a thick swallow.

     "Our mango ahi tacos are on special tonight," she hummed with a wink.

     The young man's ears flushed a bright shade of crimson as he stammered something about passing on the food but wondering if they had any ciders. She pocketed her tongue in her cheek as she flicked her eyes to Yoongi.

     "You hungry?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow and tilting a hip clad in low-slung cargo pants and a studded belt in his direction. Yoongi looked up at her and shook his head, taking another sip of beer.

     "Hm, damn shame," she hummed, flicking her eyes over him a last time before sauntering back to the bar.

     Hoseok tracked her every move with a slack jaw, craning his neck to watch her slip through the kitchen door before turning his face - features, still frozen in lascivious astonishment - back to his friend.

     "Holy shit, hyung," he murmured, covering his mouth with both hands, "You could see her nipple piercings right through her shirt!"

     Yoongi grunted in assent, trailing a cloudy gaze over the table's waxy surface as he picked at the bottle's damp label.

     "You gonna get her number?"

     "What?" Yoongi shifted in his seat, eyes refocusing on his friend.

     Hoseok sighed.

     "Nope, you're not. How long's it been, hyung?"

     Yoongi glanced down at his beer again, then raised it to his lips and drained the bottle.

     Jung Hoseok had met Yoongi the summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school. He had attached himself instantly to the older boy, an unusual experience for Yoongi, who was used to people as sunny as Hoseok steering clear of his little storm cloud. He was one of the few friends from those days that Yoongi still called up, on occasion. One of the few who knew the context of his life - the sandy paths on which he'd come of age...what he'd found there, and what he'd lost.

    "Don't, Hoba," Yoongi murmured lowly, his voice suddenly thick in his throat. 

    Hoseok hummed, lips pulled into a thin line. The waitress returned with a hard cider, a Pacifico, and a plate of nachos they hadn't ordered. While Hoseok changed shades like a chameleon on a tomato and attempted to stammer his thanks, Yoongi cast his eyes out the window.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, the gulls pushing their yellow legs from weathered wooden perches to soar beyond the edge of the pier and into the little golden space between the fading light and sparkling waters. The sandy beach stretched around the edge of a rising rockface, dappled with lush green ice plant and yellow sea asters, a few miles to the north. Around the other side of the stony promontory was a place Yoongi knew well. The shore there drew inward and curved into another swell of land as the cliff rose; near its highest stretch an old wooden stairway weaving down its face.

     Tucked away to the side of those stairs was a ledge - a few meters wide and about as deep - that jutted out as the cliff sloped down to its base. It was smooth and fairly even, nearly level with the closest steps; a perfect little hideaway barely visible from above or below. Perfect for two children to sit, huddled against the rock, as they whispered their dreams and fears; for a boy and a girl to hold each other through nights that couldn't be spent at homes far less warm and gentle than each other's arms; for a young man and woman to give themselves to one another at last and too late.

    It was where Yoongi had sat utterly broken, on the last morning of a summer ten years past, his head tilted back against the stone as he wept up to the sky, praying to any god that would listen that you would run fast and run far - that you would finally spread full your beautiful wings...that you would forget him.

    But Yoongi never forgot you. Not one word that you spoke, not one touch of your gentle fingers or your soft lips.

     He had left the ledge that day, but he had carried you with him - down the beach and back into the horrid little shack where three nights later Yoongi's father hit him for the very last time. Yoongi had carried you with him to the doorstep, as he threw the man out into the dirt. Then he had carried you with him to every couch and car and dingy apartment that served as a night's shelter until he had saved up enough for a little place of his own; had carried you around with the tools and lumber as he spent long, hot days building the tiny workshop beside it. And he had carried you, on a some miserable nights, into the beds of strangers - who, through no fault of their own, could never ever compare.

��   "My dad died," Yoongi said drawing his eyes away from the window. He said it with a quiet simplicity that he seemed to embody more and more with age.

    Hoseok looked up from the plate of nachos, mouth full. He looked as if he were sorry, but didn't want to say that. Instead he got up and slid onto Yoongi's bench of the booth, gently shoving the older man over to stay flush with his side. Yoongi wouldn't usually tolerate that sort of closeness, but with Hoseok it was different. Hoseok knew.

    "How's your mom?" he asked softly.

    Yoongi nodded.

    "She's okay. She's taking it better than me, actually. Already talking about leaving."

    "Are you going to?"

"What?"

    "Leave?"

    Hoseok's voice sounded hopeful. Yoongi's right hand slipped instinctively into his jacket pocket, slender fingers curling around a little whittling knife with a pink heart painted on its handle. 

    "I don't think so, Hoba."

    The younger man sighed through his nose. He was quiet for a long moment before turning to his friend.

    "I got an offer from a high school down south. VP. I start there in the fall."

    Yoongi raised his gaze, his small smile affectionate and his eyes soft. He wouldn't let the sadness reach them - he'd learned how to push it away.

    "They'll be lucky to have you," he murmured sincerely.

    Yoongi was used to people moving on. Everyone did...everyone but him. While the world turned, Yoongi stayed.

    "Someday, you need to leave, hyung,” Hoseok urged him quietly. “She's out there somewhere living her life. She'd want you to live yours too."

    At the mention of you, Yoongi felt his heart squeeze and ten years of carrying your memory well up and into his throat.

    Hoseok clapped a hand onto Yoongi's back, and raised the cider to his lips.

Hoseok knew, but he didn’t understand. No one ever really seemed to.

    As the cantina closed its door for the night, Yoongi ushered a stumbling Hoseok into the back of a cab. 

    "You're nah coming?" the younger man slurred as Yoongi stood and moved to shut the door. 

    He shook his head.

    "Gonna walk. Goodnight, Hoba," Yoongi gave his friend a little endeared crook of his mouth before closing the cab door and tapping the back of the car as it rolled away from the pier.

    Pulling a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, he watched the cab's red taillights fade into the evening blue. Yoongi lit a cigarette and turned to walk the path that wove along the edge of the cliffs. While he walked he wondered about you. He wondered if you were safe, if you smiled and laughed. He wondered if there was someone who made your eyes sparkle and your smile shy, someone with whom you could share your joys and sorrows. Yoongi wondered if you had found a home.

      The moon had risen to meet the stars when he reached the little stairway. He gingerly descended its rungs - neglected of repair and worn with their years - until he reached it, the little ledge in the moonlight. He stepped onto its smooth surface, the lower half of the rickety railing long fallen away, and sinking down he closed his eyes.

    The full bright moon washed over him, and for a moment, Yoongi felt it understood. It had seen, after all.

It had seen the boy and the girl and what they had become for each other. It had seen you give Yoongi a home, and it had watched him, in return, teach you to fly - to fly far away.

But Yoongi carried you with him. After all, you were his home, where else would he go? As the wind whipped up off the sea and swept around him, whispering of another summer's end, the moon watched Yoongi stay another season. And if it could have seen his heart, it would have watched him go to its little window, and, as the darkness fell, light a lamp to shine out across the sea.

The moon heard Yoongi pray that you'd never return.

…It saw him stay on the chance that you might.

-Fin-

[sinsofaries]

It's the summer season where I live right now and I'm being cooked like a chicken in an oven. Anyways, have this:

Robin tries to survive the heat and sell more lemonade he can (without doubling or even tripling the price smh).

If you manage to drag him home before he gets heatstroke, you two and some other orphans will cool off with the hose in the garden. Bailey interrupts the fun though and yells for you lot to "stop wasting water" or else he'll increase rent costs.

With some extra cash, maybe you and Robin can share some ice cream or milkshakes to beat the heat.

-

Sydney will be fine for the most part. Jordan won't let this member of the flock suffer from melting.

He'll be as attentive as Jordan is to some extent too: he'll give you little reminders to drink water here and there. If you're in school, he'll put little sticky notes on your books. Writes on your hand as well to take care of yourself and to put sunscreen on.

Given a chance, he'll happily walk with you and bring an umbrella to protect you two from the scorching sun. Maybe even have fun at the beach and swim around.

-

Kylar's there by your side if he can, ready to give you anything you need. Need some cold water? Here, drink from his bottle. Want some cold treats? He's got you covered. His dedication might cloud his sight and he forgets to hydrate; do be kind and remind him to also drink water, he'll happily drink from the same side of the bottle where your lips were.

Don't be fooled though, this guy will also try to convince you to stay at his place. "The orphanage can get a little stuffy with all the others being there, right? You can stay with me! We can even watch anime together!"

Whether you accept his offer or not, expect him to crawl under your sheets and cling to you. It doesn't matter if you two end up getting sweaty and sticky from the heat and humidity, that can happen in a different way anyway-

-

Whitney will be skipping school and he's dragging you with him to his house. It's too hot outside to fuck around, maybe he'll drag you to the mall but the chances are slim.

This menace has some tricks up his sleeve. When you arrive in his room, you're either greeted with a hot oven or a freezing oasis. Either way, will demand you strip and will reason with you how it's "too hot to have clothes on" with a shit eating grin. Don't worry, he'll strip too.

If the room was hot, you two will surprisingly laze around. Whitney will grope you occasionally but it never goes further and you two end up taking a nap due to the heat. He'll get you some water of course, but he'll ask for "payment" in the future. If the room was cold, you'll end up under the covers whilst still being naked. If you complain about it, this menace easily suggests other ways in "warming each other up". Once that idea's planted into his head, expect staying the night instead.

[kuamiru]

Little Treasure, Little Dragon

Zhongli, the legendary dragon and god of the earth, becomes a little too attached to a human child after a fateful encounter.

Warnings: Obsession, possessiveness, blood, dismemberment, murder, death.

The skies were painted red. Smoke rose from the ground and went into the skies, creating a curtain of gray that was impossible to see through. The earth vibrated furiously below your feet, forcing you to stay on the ground if you didn't want to stumble and fall again and again.

The heat was almost suffocating. The smoke created by the fire surrounding you was starting to fill your lungs, slowly clouding your vision and numbing your senses. It was a matter of time before it made you lose consciousness.

Among the vibrating red and gray, a pair of golden eyes looked down on you. A gaze as cold as ice that could only belong to a monster. The same monster that was the culprit of all of this.

And then, a golden and black scaly hand reached down to grab you.

.

You awoke with a jolt. Cold sweat covered your body, making your hair stick to your face and the sheets cling onto your body. There was a strong headache accompanying the fright, a throbbing that made you feel like your head was going to explode.

Once again, you remained unable to recall your dream. Or nightmare, more accurately. No dream leaves the host awakening with such dread that almost makes them fall off the bed. In any case, you were positive that it was the same vision that had been plaguing your nights since the news of a godly war reached your little village. It had to be, for the feeling each time you woke up was always the same.

It was like something very, very bad was about to happen.

Looking out the window, the sun did not yet rise from the horizon. It was still too early for a lot of people, but for you it was the right time to start working. Quickly getting out of bed, you gathered your clothes and rushed out of your house, going for the small lake just at the entrance of the woods. Even though you could always wash yourself at home, you needed some fresh air and didn't want all the noise waking your parents up. At times like this, you always made use of the secluded lake just before the forest. It was such a relaxing place that it felt criminal to be the only one to know about it.

The cold air of the night eased your anxiety from the dream; the rush had long since disappeared and the only thing that remained was a feeling of sorrow. It made your heart feel heavy, but you were more or less accustomed to it now. Soon you'd have to start doing your chores and then there'd be no time to think about your feelings, too busy to even think about anything other than work.

Once you arrived at the river bank, the calm waters greeted you like they always did. You had to be quick, or else your parents would wake before you returned home and worry about your whereabouts. Just as you were starting to get undressed, a strange noise made you stop in your tracks.

You were at the entrance of the forest, so there shouldn't be any wild animals, right? This place was far from the town, too...

Another noise made you flinch, quickly gathering your belongings and getting ready to flee. Oh god, was it a wild boar? A wolf? A bear? You weren't so sure you could outrun one of those.

Finally, it all culminated in a big splash at the lake. Could the animal have fallen while it was trying to drink water? You timidly looked over your shoulder to see what was happening, finding the wavy waters with nothing else on sight.

That's it. There was no way you would bathe in that lake now.

Just as you were going to flee the place, the ring of the disruption of the water made you look back and finally see what was making such a fuss. A figure emerged from the bottom, and you finally realized that it wasn't an animal but rather a person. A tall and slim dark-haired man.

You quickly hid behind a thick tree, between embarrassed and ashamed of seeing a person in such a private moment and hoping he hadn't seen you so you could quietly leave unnoticed. From the sound of it, the man only laid there, resting with his upper body above the water level and enjoying the feeling of the cold against his body.

Taking your chances, you stepped forward only to stop abruptly when a twig was crushed below your foot. You stood still for a few seconds, afraid that the stranger had heard you; but when you heard nothing coming from his end, you deemed the situation secure enough to keep scurrying off.

However, the moment you looked back ahead, you met with the chest of that same man, having to raise your head slowly so you could meet his golden, glowing eyes. Fear immediately struck you. Whoever he was, he carried an aura of divinity and power, as if there was no one in this world who could stand against him.

"What is a child like you doing here?" His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, it even made you recoil unwillingly and make your form even smaller.

"I- I..." You couldn't even finish your sentence. This man terrified you; what if he hurt you? Should you try to scream in hopes of someone coming to your aid?

The stranger noticed your fear and released a sigh. Maybe he wasn't accustomed to speaking to children, for he seemed at a loss of what to say.

"It's okay, little one, I won't hurt you. I'm not mad, I'm just worried that a tiny mortal is out here in this dangerous forest by themselves."

His words turned soft at your scared expression. The last thing he wanted was to appear as a threat.

"...I bathe here," was your answer. He hummed at that, as if that phrase made him think.

"Bath, you say?" He looked at the water. "Isn't it a little cold to take a bath in a river, especially when the sun isn't even out yet?"

He was right, but of course you wouldn't let him know that. "Well, you were doing the same thing! You're still soaking wet, aren't you cold?"

He briefly assessed his clothes - a long, white cloak - and how it was still dripping with droplets of water.

"Ah, but you're wrong there. One does not bathe with their clothes on, am I right?" He smiled. "I was simply enjoying the icy feeling of the cold water against my scaly skin."

"Scaly?" You asked, uncertain.

He chuckled. "Look."

It was hard to see it because the darkness of the night camouflaged it, but now that the man stepped closer and lowered himself to meet your gaze, the black and gold that covered his entire arms caught your attention almost immediately. The moon accentuated the golden parts; it was almost like they were even glowing.

"Whoa...." Stars shone in your eyes, and he smiled knowing you weren't scared anymore. Children should always have a smile on their face. "Are you a dragon? That's why you called me 'mortal'?"

Curious for your age, weren't you? Still, you were pretty perceptive to have guessed his true form with just one glance. "That's right, little one. I am a dragon that dwells on these lands."

If he was such a mystical being, couldn't he also be one of those gods? The ones that everyone says are killing each other, destroying the lands, and bringing down people with them?

As if sensing your sudden wariness, the stranger rose again.

"Let's better head you home," he said gently. "It's pretty late— or perhaps too early to leave you alone. Would you mind if I escorted you? It would give me peace of mind to know that you had arrived home safely."

Had you not been lost in your running thoughts about gods, wars, and death, you would've refused before he even had the chance to take you with him. It was only when you passed the entrance to the forest that you realized you had subconsciously accepted his request and began to walk hand in hand with him.

Maybe you were lucky to encounter him at such an hour, for even if your house was closer to the rest of the village, no curious eyes could notice you walking along with such a strange being.

He didn't make an effort to engage in idle chat with you. He just enjoyed the changing scenery, observing with curiosity the wooden houses as if trying to figure out what kind of life the people inside had just by looking at their homes. It was only a few times where he turned to face you and flash a kind smile, alerted by your eyes lingering too long on his face. It would embarrass you and force you to avert your gaze to the road ahead before turning to see him again and thus repeating the cycle. The silence was nice, too. If anything, you didn't expect such a supernatural being to be chatty anyway. It left you free to think about him, his mysterious nature, and what his life could be about.

"We have arrived, have we not?" His voice got you out of your thoughts, surprised to see your little house in front of you. Had you told him where you lived?

"Yes, this is my home," you shifted uncertainly in your place. How do you say goodbye to a dragon without them taking offense? Would it be too rude to just go inside the house? What if he got mad at you and attacked your village like those ruthless gods enjoyed doing?

The man, once again, seemed to notice your running thoughts, for he smiled gently and ruffled your hair. "Be safe, child. Our encounter today felt like orchestrated by fate."

Nodding, you rushed inside quietly, at such an hour your parents would still be asleep after all. Just as you were about to close the door behind you, a deep voice interrupted you.

"And be mindful to not bathe when it's too cold, little one. Catching a cold would be terrible for your health."

When you turned your head to see him, your eyes only met the dirty road that led to the village. Everything seemed in place, like that man was never there.

What a weird encounter. Were you sure that you left your bed earlier? A pinch to your cheek proved that no, this wasn't a dream. You just met a real, mystic dragon in his human form.

You just hoped it wouldn't happen again.

.

Destiny had a weird sense of humor.

Just two days after the 'lake encounter', you had the misfortune of seeing the man again. It wasn't like you disliked him or anything; you just preferred not to be acquainted with him or any other dragon or god for that matter. You knew what happened with humans got too close to other beings, and it never ended up good for humans. These beings were capable of destroying entire villages just because they were having their own war, who could guarantee they wouldn't do the same if a mere human dared to invoke their wrath?

You wouldn't like being the cause of your home downfall.

"It seems that fate has led us to cross paths once again."

Looking up from the apples in your hands, your eyes met a distinct shining amber that seemed to glow even more once it came in contact with you. It felt strange, running into him in such a crowded area as it was the village's market.

He was wearing a long brown coat, obscuring his dragon-like features that even the human form couldn't hide. The only proof of his true nature was staring right back at you.

"Hello," you kindly returned, now feeling a little awkward. Your hopes of an uneventful trip to the market now crushed. "It seems it did, mister..."

Were you in the wrong for addressing him with that title? Though he didn't seem to mind; in fact, he smiled at the prospect of you trying to get familiarized with him.

"Ah, how careless of me, I never introduced myself. My name is Morax, little one. Can I have the honor of knowing yours, too?"

He extended his hand for you to shake, his sleeve rolling a little back and exposing the black and golden scales that he had for skin.

You complied and shook his hand. His face seemed to light up even more once you told him your name.

"My, that's such a lovely name!" He complimented, taking this chance to get a little closer to you. "Pray tell, what business do you have in a place like this?"

Of course a dragon like him wouldn't have a grasp of human customs. It was kind of funny to see such a large man observing with child-like curiosity the little booths of the market, as if it was his first time seeing something like this.

And in introspective, it might've been his first time.

"Don't you gods know what a marketplace is?" You asked, amused.

"Some do. Unfortunately, I'm not one of those," Morax admitted, ashamed. "I haven't got an opportunity to get close to humans like this before."

"And why now?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he flashed his usual smile and continued to walk to admire the varied goods the people were selling. You didn't immediately follow him, but when he stopped and turned to you expectantly, you had no choice but to walk along with him.

What a strange god. At least he didn't seem the violent type. It would be safe to indulge in his presence a little... right?

This time, he took the job to fill the silence with his curiosity. "What is the purpose of that thing?", "How do you use this?", "How does one wear that?" Morax seemed to love hearing your explanations, often inquiring further to keep you talking. It didn't make sense for him not to know what a pot was, yet you still described its use to him. More than your explanations, he seemed content with just hearing your voice.

"And when the water boils, you can add the—"

The next words were caught in your throat as a hit to your back made you stop abruptly. You let out an "Oof" more because of the surprise than the pain, but your companion immediately moved to support you and check for any injuries.

"Are you okay, little one? Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked in a worried tone, using his hand to gently caress the place where you've been hit. When you shook your head, he turned to glare at the two culprits behind you. "You there! Bring forth your arms, I'll cut your hands off for committing such a crime."

When you looked back at his face, a chill went down your spine. His usual playful and warm golden eyes now glowed with something akin to rage and bloodlust. It was such a drastic change that even the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

You were terrified of this side of him. It looked like he would snap and start destroying everything in his way at any moment.

The two boys behind you froze in their place. They also felt the hatred directed at them, even their little bodies started to tremble in terror.

"W-we're sorry! We were just playing!"

"Please! I-I just fell over them! D-don't cut my arm off, please!"

The pair started to cry, but Morax didn't seem to be listening to their rambles. He brought forth his right hand and summoned a large polearm, making the boys shriek in horror. By now a crowd had started to surround you, whispering among themselves about the strange man with a weapon and the two crying children in front of him.

Just before this could get worse for the boys, you grabbed his free hand and fled the marketplace with him, running so fast that your legs started to hurt midway.

Soon, you both were far away from the booths, the people, and the kids. The only landscape now were the rocks and mountains surrounding you, isolating you both from the rest of the village. You bent over your knees, catching your breath. Behind you, Morax didn't even seem to be fazed. Perks of being a dragon and a god, you supposed.

He called your name softly, and when you turned to face him, you were surprised to see that the mad look in his eyes had completely vanished.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Of course there is!" You cried, but immediately composed yourself in front of the god. "You can't just threaten to cut off people's hands! That boy just fell when he was playing..."

"It was not a threat. I fully intended to cut those children's hands had you not stopped me."

A dangerous glow was born in his eyes, making you gulp.

"I don't like people, god or mortal, even touching or aiming for what's out of their reach."

.

Morax was feeling angry. Mad. DESPERATE. The dragon inside him wanted to go out, destroy a mountain, raze a village, kill another god; anything to calm his emotions down.

His rut was coming to an end soon, and his most primitive instincts were trying to take control of him.

His new acolyte shifted awkwardly at his side, pretending that the growing pool of blood didn't make him sick to his stomach. He tried to show no reaction to it. He didn't want his master to think he wasn't up to his new role just because of some human blood.

"This isn't enough..." Morax mumbled, fixating his crazy look on his bloody hand. He no longer paid any attention to the two dismembered hands resting on the ground in a sick way.

"Does... this concern that human child, master?" The younger man asked, flinching slightly when the piercing eyes of his master turned to him in an instant. He dared not say the name, for he knew it could bring forth Morax's dragon instincts. It always did.

He heard the dragon whisper that forbidden word, and for a moment, he was afraid that he would leash out on the mountain again. "That child, yes..."

Morax let out a sight to calm his nerves down. His body temperature was on the rise, and he didn't know if it was due to his rut or his anger of the situation. He should go to the lake once more, just to soak in the cold waters like the other day—

Right, the day where he met you.

A small, human child spying him from the shadows. What a cute little thing you were. He was worried at first; he knew humans were weak creatures, their spawn being completely vulnerable to anything that might want to attack them. That was why he approached you first, to make sure you were okay and not in any need of aid. He just... He didn't expect to see you.

Your frightened form stirred something inside him, and when he showed you his scales to help you calm down... The moment he saw the awe in your eyes, he knew he was in very deep trouble. He foolishly thought that the icy waters could put his dragon instincts to sleep; but being in the middle of his rut that was making his true nature cloud his rationality. There was a voice that sweetly whispered to him: "MINE."

Dragons were such greedy creatures, it was within their nature to take claim of anything that captured their attention. Be it expensive and beautiful jewels, shining coins, extensive pieces of land... And, of course, there were some like Morax who desired to own people. A human, a god, another creature; it didn't matter as long as they had their sight on them.

So, when his eyes locked onto yours and saw the admiration you held for his skin, he had subconsciously laid claim on you. He couldn't help it, you just claimed all of his attention. It had to be okay, right? To just take you away. Your parents were irresponsible to let you out at such an hour when the world outside was such a dangerous place. There was a war among gods raging on! He knew all about that, for he was fighting in it.

Yes, a god like him was the only one being fit to take care of you. The only one powerful enough to protect you. To have you as their own. The sort of privilege a father would have.

His rut deviated in an unexpected way. It no longer edged him to mate, but to give in to his other instincts. In particular, to have a child. This child. YOU.

"They seem to be scared of you, my lord," his acolyte said. "I thought you wanted to keep watching them for a while before standing before them again."

Morax let a huff out. "This rut of mine is to blame. It's nearing its end, which means I'm succumbing to my primal desires a lot more than I would like to."

He closed his fist with such a strength that his long nails pierced the skin and drew blood from the wounds. His own blood started to cover the previous one that stained his black and golden skin.

"This war among gods is almost over, and with no other deity to fight with... It leaves room for my other instincts to take over. Without the heat of the battle to calm me down, I subconsciously make rash decisions," Morax explained. "I had not planned to meet them today, it was the dragon within me that edged me to go to that market to see them."

"I see," was the only answer he could provide.

"I can no longer wait, Xiao. Even if our encounter today wasn't part of my plan, it helped me realize that just watching them isn't enough. Do you remember all this time that I've been keeping my eye on them?"

How could he forget? Since the meeting on the lake, his master kept an undying watch on that child. At first, he thought it was because of his curiosity of the human race, but as time went on... It appeared to be more like stalking at some point. He feared that his dragon had laid claim of the kid and wanted to take them for himself. Of course, he wouldn't dare to raise this concern to Morax, he owed his new life to his master and he dared not to question his motives for doing what he did. So, Xiao just nodded.

"I can no longer contain it. I must make haste, I fear this heat in my blood will burn me if I let it be..."

Morax summoned his polearm and held it tightly between his fingers.

"I have to go to collect MY child."

Once again, Xiao could only diligently nod at the wishes of his master.

.

It was the middle of the night and yet you couldn't sleep.

After the strange day you had with Morax, you decided that rushing back home was the best course of action. The way he was acting and talking scared you; so giving the easiest excuse you could think of, you said goodbye to him and hurried home where you locked yourself in your room under the worried gaze of your parents.

It just all felt too eerie to you. Sure, you couldn't judge Morax's morals based on your human standards, but it still didn't help make you feel at ease with him. Maybe you were a fool for thinking that he wasn't like those gods fighting above you, that he wasn't cold-blooded and cruel and with great disdain for human life like the rest. Today was just chopping off two kid's hands. Tomorrow? Who knew.

Maybe it was best to avoid any contact with him if possible. It was for the better. Nothing good would come from meeting with him any longer.

Gods and humans lived in different worlds, and that's how it should always stay.

.

There were still a couple of hours before the sunrise.

You awoke abruptly, feeling the heat first before seeing the smoke filling your room leaking through the frame of the door. Screams resonated within the house, immediately alerting you and making you bolt out of the bed, opening the door of the room and forced to back away slightly due to the explosion of smoke that came with it.

It soon filled your lungs, and even if you coughed furiously, it didn't help make you feel better. It felt as if the interior of your body was on fire.

Now that you could look into the hallway, the stinking feeling of dread took over you.

There was a large fire, enormous flames dancing around your house, all coming from the living room.

"Mom! Da—" You tried to call out for them, but the smoke in your lungs made it difficult to even speak on a normal level. Your yell came out more as a whisper before a coughing fit overtaking you.

You could still hear your mother's yelling coming from the house. Did that mean that she needed help? Was your father okay, too?

Supporting yourself from the walls, you slowly walked to the center of the screams and the sounds of struggle, hoping in your heart that your parents were all right.

Rounding the corner, however, you did not only find the origin of the fire; there it was the scenes of your nightmares.

Your legs finally gave in, having lost all strength to support your body. Your father laid on the ground without moving, having a big wound on his side that didn't stop bleeding. And your mother...

She was held against the floor by a big polearm piercing her stomach. She was still alive but with no more energy to fight or keep screaming.

"Mom...?" you whispered with tears fillings your eyes. However, she only looked back at you with horror.

"Get out of here! Get of the hous—"

The removal of the polearm in her stomach left her gasping for air, unconsciously moving her arms to cover the gaping wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

You lazily followed the weapon, and the first thing your brain could process was the staring of two big, golden eyes you held nothing but fear for.

The big figure of Morax got closer to your body, making the ground shake with each step. He had already stopped paying attention to your dying mother and the flames slowly taking over the whole house. It felt like a scene straight out of hell. His ebony and golden body against the red of the fire accentuated the blood on his clothes, his two eyes held an insane spark that a human could never have.

Was this also your end, then? Were you the cause of all of this, the one to blame for? It was all because you met with a godly being, knowing that they destroyed and took everything as they pleased?

His golden hand reached down to you; you closed your eyes again, hoping that once you opened them, this nightmare would finally be over.

[totallynotcoffeeturtle]

Palm Kisses and Plum Wine

Genshin masterlist

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, confessions, affectionate drunk heizou Summary: What is one to do when there is a drunk detective in your lap at midnight?

This is bad. Very very very bad. Not because you committed some unspeakable atrocities for the best detective in all of Inazuma to be climbing into your house through the open window, but because said detective, namely Heizou, is your boyfriend and is extremely, horrendously drunk. 

Your pretty man, your favorite human being on this whole godforsaken continent is already adept at making your heart race like no tomorrow. And him now with no inhibitions? A menace to society, especially your poor overworked heart. You quietly stare up at Heizou’s slim figure straddling your lap, your hands clasped in his while he mutters whatever loving, sugar-filled sentences that appear in his mind. You cannot help but wonder inwardly how you even got into this situation.

To understand your current situation fully, you must turn back time to less than an hour ago. 

You were going to get a cup of water and something else to entertain yourself with for the night when you heard a rustle from the kitchen. You froze up. Usually, just Heizou’s reputation and the sheer frequency of him coming over is enough to chase anyone with evil intentions away. You gripped tightly onto the bottle of milk nearby and prepared yourself for a bitter struggle… Only to see the ‘criminal’ was Heizou, utterly drunk and could not find his keys for whatever reason (They were in his other pocket, courtesy of his brilliantly intoxicated brain). So of course the idea his brilliant mind cooked up was to climb through your window!

At the sight of you, still very distressed due to his decision, Heizou immediately jumps over. His body slams against you and the detective pushes you down along with the momentum, putting you into a rather suggestive position. It would be a heart pounding scene if your poor lower back did not have to take both his weight and gravity. Before you can question him, the strong scent of plum wine fills your senses with the sheer proximity between your faces. On his thin lips is a soft, oh-so-smitten smile that serves to make his eyes shine even bright under the moonlight and the dim lantern you just lit up.

He pulls you up by pulling on your wrists, making you lean on him, and proceeds to cup his own face with your palms. Heizou smiles even brighter at the coolness against his flushed cheeks. “Did… did you drink?,” you ask, just to confirm your already very sure assumption. In response, the burgundy haired man nuzzles his cheeks against your hold while slowly blinking his beautiful eyes. You sigh as you attempt to calm your heart from its 100 km per hour pace. He pauses for a moment and relief washes over you. Maybe you can finally get him to bed and no longer have to deal with this awkward situation?

“Love? Let’s get you tucked in?,” you suggest. A part of you wishes to continue to stay in this position, but for the sake of both your heart and your spine, you ask him the question. Heizou stares into your eyes, his gaze hazy yet clear at the same time. His hold on your hand refuses to budge. Moments pass as he seems to fall into contemplation. You wonder if you should try and escape while he is distracted but his grip would not budge at all. 

Slowly, his face turns between your palms, his cool lips making contact with the thenar sends a shiver up your spine. Heizou’s gorgeous eyes curve into little crescents at the warmth practically glowing from your pretty face, much like a smug cat getting away with messing up your house. But he doesn’t stop there, no no, he wants you to lose all of your composure for him. The detective’s whispers seem to echo in the quiet of the night, “I love you…” and he repeats his confession continuously, only ceasing for the brief moments he kisses your palm with reverence in his eyes. His peach blossom eyes reflect your flustered expression like a spring lake, no longer attempting to hold back his affection, every single thought he had been holding onto spills out in tides. Heizou kisses your palms slowly, each time lingering like he just wants the moment to be frozen forever. Between kisses, he makes sure to confess until you are completely sure of the feelings he holds until you are drowned in a sea of his adoration for you.

Heizou only stops when he falls asleep in the middle of kissing your left hand while still mumbling about how perfect you are in his eyes and how he would ‘arrest all the criminals in the world to keep you safe and sound’. In the end, you decide to drag him to your bedroom and let him cuddle you until the morning.

(Extra: Heizou screams like a maiden at the sight of you sleeping beside him when he woke up. He is genuinely worried that he might have hurt you in some way the night before and promises to take responsibility. So you tell him to explain to your neighbors as to why he sneaked in last night. Through the one that every single existence can see easily. At midnight.)

A/N: ngl this is the longest drabble i've posted yet lul and also my first ever heizou drabble so 🎉🎉🎉 i swear i will make a proper taglist soon pls and happi pride month! Signora x reader drabble soon bc i need her hands on my neck asap!!!

[octuscle]

Dude, my boyfriend is tired of being in charge but I’m just a twink, so I’m not able to fully satisfy his demands. I’d love it so much if you could turn him into a dumb, young (18+) twink, while turning me into a smelly farting jock.

Let's start with your boyfriend then. You're sitting at dinner at the Sports Bar. He props his elbows up. He burps. He's using his fingers. He's just a real fellow. Rubs the spare ribs sauce out of his stubbly beard with the back of his hand. Fuck, you love this fellow. But you made a decision, now you have to go through with it. The waitress asks you if you want another drink. You order another white wine spritzer. Your friend takes the napkin, dabs his mouth and orders a non-carbonated mineral water. Shit, that's already the best of your friend to hell. Suddenly he eats with cutlery. He takes off the cap. He no longer speaks with his mouth full. Actually, he hardly ever speaks anyway. Actually, he only smiles at you pensively. His tank top is freshly washed, the few stubbles he has are freshly shaved, his hair well blow-dried. His slim, well-trained body smells of expensive body lotion. And now he's also starting to play footsie under the table. How gay is that!? But damn, he is really cute. And he sucks like the devil.

You have to burp. Hehehe, that was a good one. Fortunately, your beer is coming now, then it goes straight on. Your sweetie likes your burps. Why is the cap on the table. No wonder your straggly hair keeps falling into your forehead. For the main course, you order a large rump steak. Rare, only green salad without dressing. Your friend takes only a salad. He always brings his own dressing. He wants to stay slim and agile for you. His decision, you would take him also with a few kilos of muscles more. The main thing is that he stops with this gay footsie. You want to get it right for him and nail him hard, with such a kind of foreplay he makes you not horny.

After dinner you ask directly if he should wait until home. Or whether you want to go to the bathroom here. He says giggling that he would rather make love in bed with you. What a faggot! But that's exactly why you love him.

You thank him for the invitation to dinner with a biceps pose. The little one is into it. And you like how submissive he is. I would say that the transformation was successful. You can bet your bottom dollar on it, you think. And you let go a huge protein fart.

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (3)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: kissing, fluff and physical violence]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Even though Aemond told her to look away, she didn't. Young Lady Stark stared with blank, terrified eyes, all pale at what was happening in the arena. Mormont punched the boy in the stomach, and he spat blood again. Y/N flinched as if someone had hit her as well.

"Beg your Lady for help, pup." Mormont said loudly to young Reed. Aemond heard her breath catch in her throat at the words, her lips quivering, remaining slightly ajar.

"Beg!" He screamed low and kicked him again. Aemond saw tears streaming down her face, but her expression didn't change an inch. She didn't even blink. She seemed to be in shock. After a while, Lord Stark himself stood up.

"What's that supposed to mean? Is it proper for an adult husband to humiliate youngster who is only seeing his first tournament? Are you going to pierce his heart and prove that you can kill children, my Lord?" He asked in a raised tone, anger in his voice. Y/N didn't look at her father, she was breathing deeply, her face pale and stony, only her nostrils flaring uneasily with each inhalation.

The young Mormont spat at his opponent in rage and threw his sword to the ground, walking away. Only then did the young Lady Stark, as if she had come back to life, take a deep, broken breath, as if she had emerged from the water. Aemond, seeing it out of the corner of his eye, fought the urge to touch her hand. Instead, he just cleared his throat, looking straight ahead.

"Calm down, my lady. He will survive." He said calmly. Lady Stark looked at him wide-eyed, her cheeks still wet. He felt a dryness in his throat and a tightness in the pit of his stomach. He looked away, trying to control himself.

As the tournament continued, the tense atmosphere slowly relaxed. Aemond moved his fingers involuntarily, resting on his armrest. Each time he did, he touched her freely outstretched hand. He had the impression that she had specially arranged it in such a way that he could easily rub her.

Every time he did, he felt a slight shiver run through her. This innocent, almost imperceptible touch turned him on. By the time the tournament was coming to an end, their hands were pressed against each other by the sides. They didn't move even an inch. The thought of him touching her in public sent shivers down his spine.

Even though he had vowed to stay away from her, all he could think of now was the feel of her soft, delicate skin against his. About how wonderful it would be to feel her hand on his face, chest, shoulders and below. He swallowed softly at the thought. He sat cross-legged, trying to hide his growing excitement. His face was stone.

He felt the pressure of disappointment and anger as the tournament ended and they both had to get up from their seats. He left behind his father king, mother queen and siblings, young Lady Stark headed the other way, after her parents. They didn't look at each other.

They didn't meet again until dinner. Aemond spoke to Aegon, admonishing him to finally leave Helaena's maid alone. Aegon had already managed to drink one cup of wine and only waved his hand, showing as usual a complete lack of interest in what his younger brother had to say to him. Aemond glanced at the entrance once in a while, feeling a strange tension and excitement.

Finally, the young Lady Stark and her brother entered the hall together, talking to each other. Y/N was wearing the same dress as at the tournament. As she walked, gown accentuated her slim figure even better.

Aemond thought with amusement that the daughters of Borros Baratheon would despair if someone told them they couldn't change clothes at least a couple of times a day. At least in his presence, they did it all the time. Their eyes met for a moment, but then they turned away.

They sat at the table only when the king entered the room. This time the feast was modest and private, only their families ate together, so they sat around a large oak table. On one edge sat his father the king, on his right sat his wife the queen, on the left sat Lord Stark and his wife. Cregan sat next to them.

Aemond sat on the edge of the table on the other side. He inhaled imperceptibly, as he saw out of the corner of his eye, that the young Lady Stark sat next to him, across from her brother. Helaena and Aegon sat next to her.

The king rose to make a toast.

"I would like to warmly propose a toast to our host, Lord Stark. Your hospitality is immeasurable and admirable. I am very happy that we will be able to spend some more time here. Congratulations to you wonderful children. Your son and heir is a great warrior and your daughter has a big heart. Her gesture towards this young boy honestly and deeply touched me."

Young Lady Stark was embarrassed by this unexpected compliment. Everyone raised their glasses and drank some wine. Aemond's and Y/N's eyes met as they both touched their mouths to their goblet and immediately turned away. Aemond felt the tension between them palpable.

The thought that she was reciprocating his affection and weakness in any way was pleasing to his ego. He felt that whenever she was around, his resolve to improve and control himself melted like ice.

Cregan approached him, asking what he thought about the tournament and his fight with Criston. Aemond answered honestly that the fight was very even and that it was the highest level of the entire tournament. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Y/N was listening intently.

She looked away as soon as he looked at her, returning to her conversation with his sister. It seemed to him that literally after a couple of minutes, they immediately established a great contact. They were talking to each other, leaning into each other's ears and laughing, her smile finally returning to her face.

Aemond couldn't take his attention away from her mouth. He still vividly remembered their sweet taste, their softness and moisture, his joy when she parted her lips for him. He knew there was more fire and lust in their kisses than some marriages had in all their years.

The thought of it drove him mad, for he had only exchanged a few words with her. He was thinking more and more about simply paying his father a visit and asking him to make her his wife.

He shivered as he heard her soft voice directed at him. She looked at him calmly, warmly.

"Will you take part in the hunt tomorrow, my prince?" She asked, a note of genuine curiosity in her voice. Aemond tried to meet her eyes, but his gaze kept falling to her bare shoulders.

"Yes, my Lady." He answered more brusquely than he would have liked. But that didn't discourage her. She clearly understood now that the tone of his voice often did not reflect his real thoughts and emotions. She turned in her chair, holding her cup in her hand. Her brother spoke up.

“My sister is great at long-range archery. I'm afraid she'll hunt more wild animals tomorrow than all of us put together." He said with amusement, and his sister laughed heartily at his words. Helaena looked at her surprised and excited.

"Do you shoot a bow? Who taught you that?" She asked curiously, slapping her hands lightly as if to applaud her.

"My father. I was very jealous when Cregan started practicing sword fighting and I couldn't join him. My father suggested that archery was more ladylike and taught me himself." She said, smiling thoughtfully, apparently deeply absorbed in the memories. "If the king and queen don't mind, I can show you how it's done, princess." She said gently. Helaena was delighted with the idea.

"Yes! I'd love to try it. I just wouldn't want to kill any living thing." She said right away. Young Lady Stark laughed lightly.

“First, we will try to hit the center of the target. You can practice archery and not kill anyone all your life." She said warmly, clearly overjoyed that the princess herself wanted to practice with her.

Aemond had seen what she could do in the castle courtyard. She was practically always right when she shot. Her brother was right when he said she needed a bigger challenge for herself.

It intrigued him that no one was surprised to see her there. The men watched her, some with curiosity, some with lust, but her presence there seemed to be known and accepted by all. He asked her a question before he could think, what he was saying.

"Have you ever tried sword fighting, my Lady?" He asked, taking a sip of his wine, surprised by what he might call daring in his case. Lady Stark looked at him surprised that he was addressing her directly.

"No. As I said, my father did not think that skill was necessary or welcome for a lady, my prince." She said calmly, slightly embarrassed. You'd think there was a note of regret in her voice. Aemond looked at her expectantly.

"Would you like to try?" He asked shamelessly. Cregan looked at him in surprise. Y/N looked like she didn't know what to say. Her cheeks flushed red, but it wasn't just the wine. She blinked and swallowed softly. She looked at her brother, who raised his eyebrows.

"I don't want to upset my father, my prince." She finally said quietly, uncertainly, looking at him fearfully, as if she was afraid that her answer would upset or offend him. Aemond looked at her intensely.

"Join me and your brother tomorrow. We will practice early in the morning, at sunrise. Everyone will then be busy preparing for the hunt. Tell your father you couldn't refuse." He spoke calmly and low. Lady Stark swallowed silently, but her eyes lit up suddenly. His heart beat faster as he saw her smiling widely, looking at him gratefully. He thought he wanted her. He wanted her for himself.

The rest of dinner passed quietly. He talked with Cregan for a while longer, and though it was not a lively conversation, he became convinced that the young Lord Stark was a well-read and intelligent man. It seemed to him that Cregan saw that the sight of his sister pleased his eye. However, he made no comment on the matter. He said something else instead.

"I heard you and your brother are getting married soon, my prince." He said in a light tone that suggested congratulations. Aemond's jaw clenched at the remark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw young Lady Stark look down at her plate.

"My marriage plans are not yet certain, my lord." He explained coldly, Cregan hearing his tone didn't dare ask anything more. Aemond glanced at Y/N, but to his despair, she didn't look at him again for the rest of the evening.

The king and queen were the first to leave the hall, his father was already tired and had a difficult day ahead of him. Lord and Lady Stark also thanked and went to their chambers.

After a few minutes, Y/N finished the rest of the wine that was left in her goblet and rose, thanking everyone for the pleasant feast, and headed towards the exit. Aemond felt an unfamiliar feeling of disappointment that she hadn't even given him one look.

He pursed his lips, finished the wine he had in his goblet in one gulp, and stood up tensely, leaving, much to the surprise of those gathered.

He caught up with her easily. She glanced behind her and stared at him in surprise and fear, her mouth parted as if to say something, but the words stuck in her throat.

He grabbed her face with his hand and pulled her brutally against him, his mouth digging into her lips with hunger. She moaned into his mouth and pushed him away. Both of them were breathing heavily, looking at each other with furrowed brows.

"I am not a thing, my prince, that you can take whenever you want." She said angry. Her remark annoyed him.

"Neither do I, my Lady." He said equally frustrated. His answer caught her off guard and surprised her. She swallowed silently.

"It's not fair to Lord Baratheon's daughters." She said finally, looking at him with pain and regret. Aemond pursed his lips.

"I'm not officially engaged to either of them." He replied dryly. Lady Stark shivered, looking uncertainly around the corridor to see if anyone had overheard their conversation. She looked at him, her gaze softening. They both calmed down.

Aemond approached her slowly, took her face in his hand again, but this time gently, sensitively. She didn't pull away, just took a deep breath, looking at him uncertainly. Aemond tried to remember the sight - her long, black lashes, framing her pale eyes, her long, slightly rounded nose, her full, warm lips that he could still taste.

He leaned over her and this time they both kissed, their lips sticky and warm, their movements slow, prolonging the moment. Aemond wanted to remember the taste of her lips, their softness, their suppleness, their wonderful warmth.

They broke apart suddenly, terrified, when they heard her brother's voice from behind them, who was standing a few meters away, watching them intently. Y/N looked at him pleadingly, opened her mouth to say something in her defense. But he didn't let her say anything.

“Dear sister, leave me and the prince alone for a while. I'd like to have a word with him."

_____

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @namoreno @dreamlandcreations

[gravid-transluna]

Two Birthdays: Part One

words: 1430

content: masturbation, birth denial, fpreg

A birthday is a special day. Her friend’s twenty-first should have been Mari’s only focus. However, Mari had been distracted the entire day as they spent time at the resort’s expansive pool and spa. It hadn’t been so bad at first. Her friend’s mom, Noemi, was nearly a week overdue with her second child, and though she had started the day in modest clothes—a maternity sundress draping her huge, full swell, navel protruding starkly, pressing downward from her middle—, the afternoon sun had continued to shine down on them, forcing Noemi to shed her dress, pulling it up her belly and over her head.

Mari’s face had flushed and she’d turned away, ashamed and furious at herself for her own thoughts, but she’d already seen the nakedness of Noemi’s belly, taut at the seams and painfully overdue, hanging low over her hips and melting into her otherwise small, slim frame. Sweat had shimmered, bright, on the stretched, striped skin. A dark linea nigra ran down her middle to her navel. Her belly button was hard and round like a stone. Underneath, she only wore a white two-piece bikini, and her breasts, once small and subtle, hung swollen in her top, nipples and areolae visible.

Mari’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering every time Noemi lifted her slender hands to cup her swell, or when she rose from the sunbathing to reapply sunscreen and Mari saw her from the back; though she still tried to step with her usual grace and poise, her gait was wide, baby obviously dropped between her narrow hips, reducing her to a waddle.

It was a very uncomfortable day to be a lesbian with a fetish that especially appealed on an older woman.

This wasn’t the worst of it, though.

Mari first noticed it when Noemi reached across the table for her drink.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Of course!” Mari squeaked.

Then Noemi’s face changed. Her reaching hand flew to her belly, and Mari followed it to see visible tensing, muscles clenched on either side, misshapen around her huge baby.

“Oh!” she said. There was something in her face now. Surprise, but also a slight urgency.

“Ms. Noemi?” Mari asked. “Are—are you okay?”

“Mm,” Noemi said, and took her glass. “I’m fine. Thank you, Mari.”

This happened multiple times throughout the day, and every time she saw that mound tense then sag, muscles relaxing, Mari’s pussy pounded badly, pulsing.

She stayed in the shade, sipping nothing but cold water with ice while her friend and the others ordered drinks at the pool bar.

After about another hour of this, Mari couldn’t take it. She left and walked to the restrooms and found a stall. Inside it she immediately yanked her bikini bottom down her legs and pressed her fingers to her clit. Her pussy throbbed for release, dripping and clenching. She began to masturbate standing over the toilet, imagining closing her lips around one of Noemi’s stiff, milk-heavy nipples.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck, fuck. Her pussy began to pulsate under her slick fingers. Her thighs shook as she came.

“Shit,” Mari said aloud, then she wiped herself down and pulled her bikini bottom back up and exited the stall, washing the slick from her hands in the sink.

Suddenly the restroom door was flung open. Mari jumped guiltily, then her eyes widened in shock as Noemi raced past her, not even noticing her at the sink, bowed over her low belly, a hand clamped to her crotch. She ran into the handicap stall and slammed the door shut. It was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Ohhhhhh.”

A muted, breathless moan and a loud splashing sound.

Mari stood frozen. She heard a small gasping from the other side of the stall door, and approached hesitantly. She rapped a timid knuckle on the door and the gasps stopped.

“U-um, Ms. Noemi? Are you okay?”

There was silence. Then, “Yes, just some Braxton Hicks contractions. I’m sorry if I startled you, Mari.”

Noemi’s voice sounded strained, so uncharacteristic of her usually soft, modulated tone.

Mari hesitated. “Are you sure? Do you need any help?”

More silence. The stall door unlocked from the inside. Mari pushed it open and her heart thumped in her chest at the sight inside.

Noemi was standing over the toilet, thighs wide apart, knees slightly bent. Her bikini bottom and legs were soaked with fluids. Her belly, somehow, appeared to hang even lower, navel pointed almost to the floor now with weight and fullness. Her face was sweaty, cheeks flushed, short dark hair clinging damply to her forehead.

“Oh my god, Ms. Noemi,” Mari said. “Your water broke, didn’t it?”

Noemi’s face tightened and she pressed her lips together, nodding and closing her eyes. She clutched reflexively at the orb between her thighs as it flexed, hardening, muscles like iron. Her brow wrinkled and she grunted as though she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore.

“Mari,” she gasped. “I need you to step out, please. I’m—I think I need to—relieve myself.”

Mari shook her head. “I think it’s the baby! Are you feeling like pushing?”

“Ughh.” Noemi’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Yes. I need to push.”

“Oh my—“ Mari trailed off. “We’ve gotta call you an ambulance.”

Suddenly the contraction released Noemi. Her belly slackened. She collapsed onto the toilet seat, thighs spread wide to accommodate her massive stomach. She panted, chest heaving.

“No,” she said. “It will ruin the party.”

“But—“

“Please.” Noemi’s eyes softened, and Mari perceived her desperation clearly. “You’re one of my daughter’s more mature friends.  I don’t want to embarrass her or cause a scene, and I need your help.”

Mari gulped. “What can I do?”

Noemi sighed. “Thank you. I just need to last until the party is over.”

The restroom door opened and someone walked in.

“Ms. Noemi? Are you in there?” The voice was a little slurred, tipsy from afternoon drinking.

Noemi composed herself and raised her voice. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“O-o-okay. Haven’t popped yet, have you?”

Noemi managed a weak laugh. “Holding it in.”

For now, Mari thought.

They waited until they heard the door close. Then Noemi said, “Could you—I need you to—” was she—blushing? “I can’t go back out covered in my waters.”

“O-oh,” Mari said, and she was suddenly aware of the distinct odor coming off of Noemi, the scent of her fluids, fecund and thick, the musk of a woman close to birthing. Noemi stood as Mari grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began to dab her formerly lean thighs, thickened over the course of her pregnancy.

“And–” She was really blushing now, Mari marveled. “I’d do it myself but–I can no longer reach around my stomach.”

Happy to. Mari drew her fingers around Noemi’s hips, noting the slight intake of breath as her thumbs brushed swollen underbelly. She hooked her bikini bottom and exposed her fleshy pregnancy pussy, damp and swampy, and the odor was stronger now. Mari breathed.

Then, “you have to close your legs.”

“Mm, trying.” Noemi struggled, the baby lodged in her pelvis making it almost impossible to pinch her knees shut. Her eyes widened. “Oh no…”

Her belly hitched and went hard. Her knees immediately buckled, thighs wide again.

“I need to push,” she said. She groaned as she began to bear down. The sides of her belly sucked in with the force of her pushing.

“No! Ms. Noemi, you have to hold it in, remember?” Mari said.

“Hnnnnfgh,” Noemi groaned. She tried to resist. “Hooh-hooh, god. I need to push.”

Mari, not knowing how to help, planted her palms on Noemi’s belly and rubbed the hot, furious skin. It burned under her palms, fevered. She could feel the desperate convulsions of Noemi’s strong internal muscles as they worked to expel her baby against her efforts.

“Oh,” Noemi grunted.

“Sorry!”

“No! No–ouugh–please. Don’t stop.” 

Noemi closed her eyes and raised her chin, swaying back and forth as Mari stroked the tight, oblong surface. Experimentally, she flicked her thumb across Noemi’s bulging navel, and Noemi shivered.

The contraction ended, leaving Noemi worn and restless, her baby’s head burrowed deeper into her birth canal, fuller even, than she’d been before her labor. Mari removed her hands from Noemi’s belly, and Noemi appeared embarrassed, almost bashful.

“I wish–hah–you didn’t have to see me like this, much less care for me in such a compromising–ugh–condition. Modesty is hard enough to maintain when it comes to pregnancy.”

“You’re beautiful,” Mari said honestly.

Startled and disarmed, Noemi looked at her. It could have been the heat flush, or she could have been blushing again.

[bigoltrashpile]

Hello! I'm happy to see you writing again. Though remember to take breaks and drink water!

Could I maybe ask for mafia skeletons reacting to their S/O who gets nonverbal and cuddly? Like, just will come into a room and make grabby hands because they want to be held?

Awwwww, that's so cute!

Mafiatale Sans: He is ALWAYS ready for cuddles! He loves when you get like this, just happy to be around you. When you come to him, he'll usually put whatever he's working on down and scoop you right up into his arms!

Mafiatale Papyrus: Unlike his brother, Papyrus is always on the move! Thankfully, he's very strong, so when you get into your cuddly moods, he's happy to scoop you up bridal style and keep on going! And don't worry if you don't talk very much, he'll do the talking for both of you until you feel like talking again!

Mafiaswap Sans (Lucky): Although he's pretty energetic and likes to keep busy, Lucky will try to be there for you when you need him! If he's busy, he'll hold you in his arms or put you on his lap until he's finished. When he's finished, he'll devote his attention to you! He might be a bit distracted, but he tries!

Mafiaswap Papyrus (Slim): Luckily, Slim is a really good cuddler, and totally understands that you don't need to talk in order to communicate. When you get nonverbal, he'll mostly ask yes or no questions while carrying on the conversation by himself. He'll lay down with you on his chest while he plays with your hair, simply chatting idly to himself until you feel like talking again.

Mafiafell Sans (Butch): Butch is prepared. He has snacks and water stashed in his room for just this occasion (and more...adult occasions), and he tries to stay attentive to your needs when you get like this. Really, besides the occasional ass grab, he's a real gentleman!

Mafiafell Papyrus (Noir): Though he likes to pretend he's annoyed by it, he really likes when you come to him. The fact that you feel safe around him is very flattering! He'll roll his eyes, but he can't hide the smile on his fangs before he picks you up.

Mafiaswapfell Sans (Scar): Like Noir, he pretends to be annoyed, though it will take quite a bit more convincing to get him to stop his work. When he gets into a task, he gets INTO that task. You might have to just straight up sit on his lap to get him to break away from it. But once he does, he'll focus all his attention on you, don't worry.

Mafiaswapfell Papyrus (Hound): Cuddles? He'll never turn down snuggle time with his favorite human! No matter what he's doing, he'll scoop you up and find a nice private place for the two of you to just silently hang out, enjoying each others' company.

[sweveniv]

MAYOR ━━ h. ran. | chapter four. | masterlist.

warning: finger-fucking, restraining, getting fingered inside the elevator, quickie, nipple play, overstimulation, squirting.

After carefully selecting a vivid crimson matte red lipstick, I gently adorned my plump lips with its vibrant hue. With the excitement of attending Rindou's birthday celebration in Roppongi building up within me, I diverted my attention towards the elegant attire I had meticulously chosen for this special occasion. As I indulged in a momentary satisfaction, a smirk formed on my face, upon laying my eyes on the mesmerizing Solace London Krista Maxi Dress in the stunning shade of Black. Refocusing on my reflection in the mirror, my long, sleek black locks elegantly framed my face, gracefully swaying with each movement I made.

I arched my eyebrow in surprise and nervously nibbled on my lower lip as Haitani Ran emerged from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel that barely covered his lower half. My gaze instinctively traveled down his enticing physique, marveling at his tantalizingly slim waist and the impressive eight-pack abs that glistened with water, as droplets strategically made their way down to his V-shaped torso. It was then that I quickly averted my eyes upwards, realizing that my thoughts about Ran were far from normal. 

As I heard his voice reverberating through the room, he inquired from behind me, "Haven't you finished yet?" Simultaneously, I couldn't escape the sight of him undressing in front of the mirror, each movement clearly visible. Releasing a sigh, I completed my preparations, uttering, "Almost there. I simply need to slide into the dress and slip on my heels, and I'll be fully prepared." Gazing at his reflection, I delicately placed the radiant Christie diamond necklace around my neck, ensuring it sat perfectly before turning to meet his eyes.

I rose from my chair and approached the man who had standing himself against the wall, his eyes scrutinizing me from head to toe. As I walked towards him, I inquired, "Yes, do you need anything?"

"Give Kakucho a message that we're on our way," As he approached me with a confident stride, his lips gently brushed against my shoulders, conveying a tender sensation.

"Go and get dressed," I uttered to him, blandly pressing my brim against his gill before he embraced me and planted tender kisses on the back of my neck. The effet of his gentle lips on my delicate skin elicited a soft mewl from me, as my body instinctively responded to his actions, filling me with delight and contentment. 

"I really hope we don't arrive late to Rindou's party," I sighed, feeling a mix of sadness and frustration welling up inside me. Although Ran clearly preferred staying in the hotel room and spending a cozy night together, I knew it was important for us to attend the party and socialize with people I perceived as untrustworthy. I reached out and ran my hand over his outfit for the evening, an elegant Armani violet suit that he had personally chosen. As my fingertips glided gently across his face, I used my thumbs to caress his cheeks with a delicate touch, captivated by the profound sadness that could be seen in his stunning lavender eyes.  

"That's what you get for drinking too much last night," I said, handing him his attire for the evening and noticing his grimace change into one of irritation. It was a little boy's response, a groan so soft it was almost cute, and the sight of it made me frown in frustration, pulling his hair to the side. I looked at him with my angry eyes—a look that he had seen many times before. He knew he had made a mistake and it would take time for me to forgive him. No, I was just kidding.

Ran, without saying a single word, gracefully took the clothes I offered him. His serene and composed expression revealed his indifference towards the situation. While he proceeded to change into the outfit, I made the decision to also change into my own attire. I carefully slipped into my elegant pair of Yves Saint Laurent heels, ensuring every detail was perfect before turning to face him.  

Raising an eyebrow ever so slightly, I discreetly brushed some white powder off his violet suit, almost playfully asserting my presence. Despite the obvious tension looming between us, I opted to remain composed and refused to succumb to my instinctual urges, determined to preserve a non-hostile atmosphere. We were determined to attend Rindou's party as initially planned, regardless of the lingering irritation that unsettled us both.

As I stared intently into his eyes, my gaze unwavering, the atmosphere between us became increasingly strained, as if it was about to explode. Leaning in closely, I positioned myself next to his ear, letting my hushed words escape in a whispered breath. "Don't even think about showing your attitude in front of people we know, Mayor Haitani," I hissed, the venom clear in my voice. "I know you too well. I know that when things don't go your way, you'll take out all your anger on everyone, including me." As I reminisced about the numerous occasions when his emotions got the best of him, I couldn't help but feel a bitter undertone in my words. It seemed that whenever he became overwhelmed with frustration, he would unleash his anger upon me, treating me like a mere punching bag. 

Ran's generous and sympathetic words of compromise came as a complete surprise to me, leaving me utterly amazed. As our eyes met, he gently placed his hand on top of mine, emanating a kind and approachable demeanor. The sentiments he expressed were filled with a heartfelt desire for reconciliation and forgiveness.

The tenderness in his touch, combined with his soothing words, made it seem as though he possessed an innate understanding of how to reach me, regardless of how angry I had been towards him. It was almost as if with a simple utterance, he had the ability to erase all of my anger and frustrations, causing me to engage with him once again, as if nothing had ever gone wrong between us. The hold he had over me was peculiar and unexplainable, yet I couldn't deny the immense impact his words and touch had on me. 

As I settled into the opulent violet sofa beside Ran, my attention was drawn to the subtle melody of a notification emanating from his phone. Without a second thought, I reached for the phone and perused the message sent by Kakucho, who assured us that all arrangements for the extravagant celebration had been impeccably organized and were now awaiting our presence. 

"Kakucho says everything is done," I remarked nonchalantly as I held his phone up for him to read. "We need to hurry."

As Ran read the text, I noticed that his expression was one of determination mixed with a hint of casual expression. He gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement before putting away his phone and gathering his belongings. Within minutes, we were both dressed and ready, Ran in his sharp violet suit and me in my equally sleek attire.

Ran and I stepped inside the polished steel elevator, the sound of the door sliding shut behind us creating a feeling of privacy and solitude. I pressed the button for the ground floor, and the elevator began its slow ascent. As we ascended, I found myself lost in thought, my eyes staring at the digital display showing the floors. When the elevator reached the ninth floor, the doors opened to a grand hallway, the walls adorned with artful paintings and the floors carpeted in thick red rugs. The atmosphere was one of opulence and exclusivity, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of electric sensation down my spine when I felt Ran's arm snaked around my waist as then the elevator door closes.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, I could feel his grip on my waist tightening, pulling me closer to his side. His thumb brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on my neck, causing me to release a soft, involuntary sound of pleasure. Trying to create some distance, I pushed against his chest, but instead of releasing his hold, Ran's grip on my waist grew even tighter, making it difficult for me to move. 

To my surprise and excitement, I felt his hand slowly moving up from my waist towards my breast, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from me. My head tilted upwards, gasping when his other hand started snaking up my thigh, sending waves of anticipation through me. In a daring move, he pressed the button for the tenth floor, even though we were supposed to be heading to the ground floor. As his hand squeezed my thigh, the pressure intensifying, his other hand found its way back to my breast, gently massaging it and igniting a sudden and electrifying sensation that rippled through my entire body and settled in my spine. 

"You're loving this aren't you?" He whispered seductively in my ear.

As he gently elevated my dress, a surge of intense sensations permeated my body, causing me to accept my impending defeat. Passively, I acknowledged his presence under my clothing, feeling the electrifying connection. His fingertips expertly danced along the edge of my thong, coaxing soft moans to escape my lips.

The gentle caress of his middle finger against my undergarment sent shockwaves of pleasure through me, confirming the undeniable moisture that had already accumulated. Suppressing a whimper with a bite of my lower lip, he attempted to penetrate me, unaware of the fabric barrier that made me flinch, before abruptly spinning me around and forcefully pressing me against the wall. My hands were now clasped behind my back as he grasped my wrists, asserting his control.  

Ran nonchalantly tapped the button for the fifteenth floor with his shoe, displaying a subtle act of dominance. In that moment, fueled by a twisted sense of pleasure, he forcefully lifted my dress, revealing my vulnerable state.

A sadistic smirk gradually formed on his lips as he observed the crimson imprint of his hand on my ass, evoking a tinge of pain that left me whimpering helplessly. His grip remained firm, restricting any attempt to escape his grasp. As he thrust his hips with relentless force against my backside, an intense surge of sensation coursed through us both. The audible groan that escaped his lips confirmed his satisfaction, while his hand brazenly slithered towards my breast, eagerly squeezing it with a forceful grip that elicited a scream of pleasure from my lips.

I was overwhelmed with pleasure as he vigorously massaged my nipple, unable to contain myself, resulting in a pleasurable moan escaping my lips. Adding to the excitement, he firmly grasped my breast, giving it one last squeeze before his hand skillfully made its way down to my posterior.

As his hand slithered beneath the fabric of my thong, I felt a slight quiver in my knees, which intensified when his fingers explored my back side and then ventured towards my drenched slit. Exhausted from maintaining this position, a long sigh escaped my lips, unintentionally causing my body to arch. This sudden movement caught Ran's attention, causing him to raise an eyebrow and then form a mischievous smirk on his face. Surrounded by elegance in my dress, I couldn't help but feel like a seductive plaything in Ran's eyes.

Taking a deep sigh, I find myself surprised and speechless as he forcefully inserts his fingers into me, causing me to tilt my head back and feel my knees weaken beneath me. In an instant, he swiftly presses the button for the eighth floor with the edge of his foot, filling me with a nervous anticipation.

The sensation of his fingers sliding in and out sends waves of arousal throughout my entire being, igniting a potent blend of desire and heat within me. Deep down, I hold a profound affection for the way he expertly stimulates me with his slender fingers, treating me like a wanton woman he had chanced upon in the depths of the city streets.

Every forceful pump and thrust he delivers intensifies my pleasure, leading to uncontrollable moans escaping from my lips. As I was pushed against there, my eyes shut tightly, I can't help but marvel at the fact that such a man even exists. I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards a higher power for creating a man who skillfully uses his fingers to fulfill all of my deepest, wettest cravings. 

He relinquished all control in my presence, his hand moving towards my chest where he gripped firmly upon my breast. The pleasurable sensation overwhelmed me, causing an ecstatic scream to escape my lips. In this moment, I couldn't believe that it was the Mayor of Minato City, engaging in such explicit actions by firmly grasping and rubbing his fingers against my nipple. Despite the potential indiscretion of our actions, I can't help but feel that the divine creator must forgive us for the overwhelming pleasure I am experiencing as he expertly manipulates and teases my nipple.

The intensity of his touch left my body trembling, as I experienced the simultaneous sensations of being fingered by the renowned Haitani Ran and having my nipple manipulated as if he were sculpting a work of art - it was as though I was nothing more than a willing, submissive woman, relishing in his dirty desires. 

— And God, I deeply apologize, but I am completely infatuated with this man, even though I realize it's wrong. He treats me as a mere object to fulfill his own desires, and it's almost as if even the devil himself can't help but smirk at the spectacle, as my body yearns for more - more degradation and longing.

The sound of his fingers penetrating me fills me with an indescribable satisfaction, to the point where I find myself yearning for his entire length inside me. I am desperate for him, longing for his cock to fill me completely. "Please, Ran," I implore, tilting my head back towards him. Tears stream down my face, my eyes reflecting the intensity of my desire.

Despite my plea, he remains silent, yet his hand quickens its pace, driving me to the edge of pleasure. Standing on my Yves Saint Laurent heels, I am overwhelmed with ecstasy as I feel his fingers tighten within me. Unable to contain myself, I tremble, tremble, tremble, uncontrollably, succumbing to the intense pleasure his fingers bring me, as if I am deserving of this sinful pleasure.

"Fuck!" I let out a piercing cry, pushing the limits of my vocal cords, as I couldn't contain the pleasure that was building up inside me. Suddenly, in a swift motion, he spun me around and effortlessly caught me in his arms, drawing me closer towards him. Our bodies pressed tightly against each other, and he passionately pressed his lips against mine, capturing my entire attention. As our mouths melded together, his tongue found its way into my mouth, intertwining with mine in a passionate dance, perfectly synchronized with our heavy breaths.

The sheer intensity of the moment sent shivers down my spine. His hands firmly gripped my ass, exerting pressure that made me moan softly in delight. Simultaneously, his hardened manhood pressed against my aroused core, causing a surge of pleasure to course through my body. Overwhelmed by sensations, I couldn't help but whimper when he gently tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth, adding a hint of pain to our intoxicating exchange. Our mouths were a battlefield of mingling saliva, as the ecstasy of the moment heightened between us.

As the elevator door swiftly slid open, both of us instinctively moved aside, exchanging mischievous glances. While I quickly adjusted my stance and smoothed out my dress, Ran stole a fleeting look at me, unable to suppress a gentle chuckle. Meanwhile, I could feel the dampness of my undergarments caused by my intense arousal. I exhaled audibly, flashing a warm smile at the older lady who returned my gesture with a perplexed expression etched across her countenance.

Ran and I strolled out of the Imaushi's Hotel, our hands interlocked, making our way towards his sophisticated and enchanting 2018 Mercedes-AMG that boasted a sleek, obsidian exterior. As we stepped out into the open air, I couldn't help but inhale deeply, feeling a wave of tranquility wash over me, and then exhale audibly, a tangible sigh of immense relief escaping my lips. The situation we had just narrowly escaped had been incredibly precarious, and I dreaded the possibility of attracting further scrutiny and curiosity from the woman who had already been paying us more attention than desired.   

As we drew closer to the car, I couldn't resist being awestruck by its elegant contours and the potent motor that emitted a captivating hum from beneath the bonnet. As I handed over the keys to the driver, my anticipation bubbled over as I enthusiastically settled into the passenger's seat. The satisfying roar of the engine as it roared to life illuminated my face with joy, and I could feel a surge of exhilaration welling up within me.   

As the car gracefully exited the spacious parking lot and seamlessly merged into the bustling flow of traffic on the bustling main road, a profound feeling of solace and protection enveloped my being.

When Ran and I reached the International House of Japan, we were met with a vibrant ambiance filled with joyous laughter and bustling activity. The air seemed saturated with the mingling sounds of affluent people conversing, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of high society gatherings. The architectural splendor of the building itself was awe-inspiring, boasting grand proportions, adorned with captivating details, and characterized by its lofty ceilings and exquisite fixtures. It exuded a sense of opulence and extravagance that permeated the entire establishment, enhancing the overall luxurious experience.   

Upon entering the grandiose main hall, our attention was immediately captivated by the awe-inspiring spectacle that unfolded before us—a mammoth table that extended seemingly endlessly. This extraordinary table was embellished with an assortment of the most exquisite and desirable wines and spirits that one could imagine, ranging from the renowned macallan lalique scotch to the highly sought-after dalmore 62 and diamond jubilee. Overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of these exceptional libations, a surge of anticipation surged through me, causing an amplified salivation in my mouth as I entertained the thrilling notion of indulging in each of these masterpieces of viticulture.   

The affluent entrepreneurs and government officials were impeccably attired, their suits and dresses exuding elegance that matched the exquisite wines they grasped delicately. The ambiance resonated with cheerful laughter and animated conversation, while an air of exhilaration and eagerness permeated every corner of the room.   

As Ran and I navigated through the bustling crowd, we were met with approving nods and warm smiles, indicating that everyone around us acknowledged Ran's esteemed position within the Japanese business realm. Despite the early hours of the evening, a captivating sense of excitement and limitless potential filled the air.

The International House of Japan, with its opulent setting, served as an impeccable setting for an enchanting and lavish assembly, where only the finest wines and spirits flowed abundantly amidst the presence of influential and affluent individuals. This remarkable event would undoubtedly leave an indelible mark in our memories, and deep down, I embraced the certainty that I found myself in an extraordinary place, at the precise moment, with the most fitting person by my side. 

I was surprised by the abrupt surge of feelings when my nephew, Kio, approached me, enfolding his arms around my waist while gazing up at me with his large, radiant eyes. His embrace was heartfelt and sincere, causing me to experience a flood of happiness and affection.   

After releasing his grip on me, my sister, Emma, came closer and embraced me with a tender and soothing gesture. Nevertheless, I was taken aback when I noticed the pregnant belly on her, which instantly filled me with joy and anticipation for her. She appeared glowing and stunning, and I was confident in her ability to be an exceptional parent.   

I returned Emma's embrace, holding her tightly as I felt the roundness of her pregnancy beneath my hands. A surge of happiness and pride washed over me, aware that I would soon become an aunt once more. 

Izana and Mikey came towards me, and as soon as I noticed my brothers approaching, I swiftly planted a gentle kiss on their cheeks as a gesture of honor. Noticing the raised eyebrow directed at me, Izana inquired with an accusing tone, "Why are you with Ran?" This made both Emma and me exchange glances. 

I maintained my smile, unfazed by his doubts, and casually responded, "I needed a ride." I gazed into Mikey's eyes, silently requesting his assistance once again due to Izana's persistence. He responded by rolling his eyes and expressing his disappointment, questioning my choice of relying on Ran instead of reaching out to Kakucho, Mikey, Shinichiro, and the rest of the group. His tone carried a hint of disappointment that compelled me to lower my gaze towards the exquisite tiles beneath me. 

Izana once again looked at me questioning glance, "I just want to make sure you're safe, that's all." He said before rubbing my shoulder with reassurance.

Mikey's mouth tightened, his ink eyes boring into Izana's lilac ones. "Izana, you're being way too overprotective. Leave her alone." Mikey said, his tone firm and annoyed.

Izana became increasingly annoyed as he distanced himself from Mikey, his eyes squinting in displeasure. "Don't tell me what to do," Izana snapped back defiantly, his voice emanating an icy and abrasive tone, refusing to be instructed. 

"Nanggagagago ka ata eh." Mikey uttered with intense anger in his eyes as he fixed his gaze upon Izana, who appeared completely unruffled while leisurely sipping his elegant champagne. 

"Could you at least fix your accent before talking to me?" Izana said as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, Izana turned to leave. But before he could take a step, Mikey spoke up, his voice laced with anger and annoyance. "Ulol! Ikaw ang dapat mag-improve!"

Izana's eye's widened in outrage, and he spun around to face Mikey. "How dare you?" he spat, his voice low and annoyed.

For a brief period of time, an atmosphere filled with tension and silence enveloped the surroundings as the two sibling brothers confronted each other, with both eagerly anticipating the moment when one of them would yield by blinking their eyes first.   

However, it was Izana who took the initiative and initiated the action by swiftly extending his hand and firmly clutching onto the collar of Mikey's polo shirt. In response, I let out a startled gasp, my eyes widening in shock as Izana forcefully struck Mikey across his face, generating a resounding echo that reverberated throughout the entirety of the room.   

The unexpected act of violence left the other guests who were seated nearby completely astonished, their mouths agape and displaying utter shock on their faces. 

I witnessed the escalating dispute between Izana and Mikey with disbelief, as their voices grew increasingly louder and filled the room with tension. It resembled an agonizing, slow-motion disaster that unfolded before my eyes. Each word uttered by both parties seemed to inflict deeper wounds, causing my irritation to intensify.

What troubled me even more was the fact that their fierce argument was taking place during Rindou's birthday celebration. As numerous distinguished guests had gathered for this special occasion, my embarrassment reached a whole new level. The torment of watching this spectacle became unbearable, to the point where I simply could not endure it any longer. 

All of a sudden, we were startled by the sound of gunshots emanating from outside, instilling a sense of panic within us. However, amidst the chaos, there were a few individuals who remained composed and unaffected by the situation. In that moment, my eyes widened in fear, and I instinctively sought refuge by positioning myself between my brothers, ensuring my own safety.

The intensity of the situation was reflected in Mikey's expression, which grew even darker upon hearing yet another round of gunshots. Laced with concern and anxiety, Izana frantically called out for Kakucho, his voice echoing through the air, as the three of us cautiously made our way towards the bungalow house. 

"Aniki."   Rindou beckoned for Ran to come over he made his way towards his younger sibling.   

"I am aware," Ran responded nonchalantly, exhibiting a measured sense of knowledge and understanding as if he knows an information regarding the person responsible for sabotaging his brother's birthday celebration.

Ran's face displayed a strong mixture of curiosity and concern as he scanned the bustling crowd, his eyes eagerly searching for me amid the chaos. Meanwhile, I found myself being pulled along by my brothers, feeling a sense of helplessness in their grip. As we approached the entrance of the bungalow house, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, reflecting the weariness and resignation that had settled within me. 

Handing the water bottle to me, "They are planning to kill Ran." Izana spoke before sitting down on the velvety sofa.

thank you for reading! a heart and reblog will gladly be appreciated.

don't repost my work to any platform. thank you!

© sweveniv-niikosia.

[murpyperpy]

If you need to be mean be mean to me.

“Hobie please don’t make me beg” you say softly reaching out to him.

CW: Angsty Depressing :( Drugs Alcohol

There’s a buzz in the air, an electric feeling your heart pumps your eye open wider. Every breath is a gift from god.

“Fuck yeahggghhg!” You shout sober no longer. Fuck this night just got so much better. You scan the room Chris is chatting up Amy I’ll leave them alone hehe Damian might actually get laid! Wow good luck to him. You swerve around the room of the persons house your partying in and make you way to the drink table.

“Slim pickings huh!” You shout over the music to the stranger on the other side of the table.

That’s how you meet hobie his dazzling dark eyes his smile the way he sniffs and readjusts his posture made you fall in love. The party light refelecting off his skin as he stared at you in the way he does so often. The attention he show you in that night started your constant craving for his approval and exclusivity.

On this particular occasion you were on his bed it wasn’t a special as you hoped because so was 2 other randoms plus Damian. Hobie had unified us all to watch his band preform. Of course you loved his music and tried to show him. Bobbing your head to the beat. Tapping your foot. Smiling wide laughing louder. It’s like in these moments you forgot how to be human and got in your own way. The reminders to be charming more attractive than the two randoms. You clap harder and even sway side to side. Move to the beat.

“Thank ya wonderful audience!” Hobie shouts.

“WOOOO” You shout as we clap and cheer. A hobie looks at you in that way like he’s the one he cares about. You desperately want him to like you. To think you’re half a cool and you think he is.

Hours later your laying on his bed this time to your satisfaction it’s just a you. The time is almost midnight and your collapsed trying to fall asleep and watch hobie clean up his band things at the same time.

“You didn’t answer my question love” he says quietly

“Ummmmm “ you groan “say again?” He had been asking you questions for the last hour trying to keep you awake to keep him company.

“I asked you love” he replied “If you have ever had a pet?”

“A pet a pet a pet “ you yawn trying to think. “I I don’t know” you I close slowly and you fall asleep. Hobie notices your breath slowing and slumped shoulders.

“Oh baby” He covers you with a blanket. He stare at you for a while suddenly not wanting to make anymore noise. Or selfishly ask you anymore questions. Hobie showers letting the water run over his skin his mind stays on you. When he comes back it’s fully dark, sliding into his bed he uses his other senses to know your there. The weight on the mattress your smell the slow sound of your breath.

Hobie feels at peace. He tells him self he will make he will have a move soon.

Hellooooo

Tori here. I will finish this story soon I just thought I should post it in case someone wanted to read! <3

Please comment to tell me what you think about this story? ❤️😁