#congratulations sky you played yourself......

[prapais]

sorry sky, but prapai clearly has been taking notes

[karinasbaby]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — BED 박성훈

"strawberry lingerie, waiting for you strawberries, lingerie."

PAIRING: fiance!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+)

WARNING: pool sex, breath play, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, make out sessions, hickeys, cursing, petnames, lots of praising cuz he's in love, semi public sex?, slight shower sex, jealous & possessive hoon, jake makes a mini appearance, so does winter (aespa), and so does hee, my miserable attempt at angst & fluff, food play, oral (f), breeding, mentions of pregnancy and slight lactation kink, just nasty stuff.

WORD COUNT: 7.8k (what.)

SYNOPSIS: your fiance, sunghoon insisted on a "mini honeymoon" before your wedding preparations took over your time, so how would your day go now that you're on an island thousands of miles away from home with sunghoon?

A. NOTE: hey y'all.. surprise ! idk what this is either all that i know is that i've had this idea for months, anyways this is for all my hoon stans and babygirls i love you. (i apologise from the bottom of my heart for making jake a a fucking CREEP but someone had to be sacrifcied :( i love u jake <3)

"got a kiss with your name on it,"

you and sunghoon have been in a relationship for the past four years, being with sunghoon truly was a blessing as he was an incredibly understanding, attentive, caring and a very loving boyfriend.

to put it short he is a real sweetheart,

your personality mixed and clashed with his perfectly, time spent with sunghoon flew by without either of you noticing, it felt like you've known each other for decades though its only been a handful of years,

so when sunghoon finally proposed to you, practically everyone saw it coming from miles away, to the point where sunghoon had some 'finally!'s thrown into his congratulations from his friends and family after you broke down the elating news,

both of you were over the moon after his proposal as you two were officially together and were on the gates of being a newly wed couple where you both vow for life to each other,

and before both of you got distracted by the big day preparations, sunghoon so generously insisted on a 'mini honeymoon' before the stress and tiring days of the preparations swooped both of you away from each other for weeks, maybe even months.

which is how you found yourself in this predicament, pushing inside your suitcase after sunghoon's on the dark oak floors of the forest facing house that sunghoon rented for the rest of the week, taking in the dark and wooden interior along with the floor to ceiling windows that exposed the kitchen accompanied by the living room to the forest, you could also see a mini pool placed right outside the balcony,

before you could bring back your attention to your suitcase and explore the rooms, you felt a familiar pair of hands snaking around your waist, sunghoon's arms wrapped around you delicately, keeping you in a strong hold as he whispered into your ear, "like the view baby?"

"i love it," you whispered back, your eyes entranced by the view of the sunrise peeking behind the dark green leaves of the massive pine trees decorating the vast land of the forest in large masses, the sky being painted in multitude shades of pink and orange, each colour reflected off your face beautifully as sunghoon's loving eyes gazed at your pleased expression,

smiling happily at your words and satisfaction, he loved making you happy.

"go into the pool first, i'll join you in a minute, angel." he spoke against your ear before placing a gentle kiss onto your temple, his warm embrace untangling from around you, nodding at his words before walking towards the glass door, as you slid it open to allow the warm breeze to brush against your skin, you stripped completely before advancing into the lukewarm water, soft crystal ripples surrounding your frame while you edged towards the corner of the pool,

peering at the sunrise from the parted branches as the light mirrored against the surface of the water around you, your heart drummed against your chest as this was the first of many upcoming vacations that you were to venture out on alone with sunghoon, excitement bubbling in you at the possibility of all events that could unfold with your lover,

before your thoughts and imagination trailed further, you heard his footsteps approaching you, walking next to the pool as you took in his larger frame gazing at you, "what a sight to walk into," he breathed out while you chuckled at his words, signaling him to join you with a motion of your fingers making him waste no time in stripping himself bare, his hoodie and sweatpants along with underwear discarded carelessly around the balcony as he allowed your eyes to take him in all his glory,

the sight of his sculpted body bare for your eyes never failed to make you blush, sunghoon dipped into the water his body approaching yours in a blur, arms wrapping around your body as he closed off all possible space between the two of you, he breathed out a sigh of relief at the calming feeling of your body so close to his,

"i can't wait to spend the whole week with you, baby" he spoke out amidst him placing his head on your shoulder gently, your hands on instinct trailed around his shoulders, softly massaging his skin beneath your fingers while his lips brushed against your neck with each word,

his body heat making yours warmer in the cool water as you smiled at his words, "yeah? what are your plans?" replying back to him while you busied yourself with pulling at the shorter hairs along his nape faintly, "i'm keeping them as surprises" he responded while smiling, you paused your touches making him blink up at your faux pouting expression, "at least tell me one?" you asked, blinking through your eyelashes at him in hopes of convincing him, sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully before his gaze darkened,

his hold on your waist tightening whilst he pushed ever inch of his body against yours, "hold your breath for me, angel," he spoke lowly, inching his face closer to yours making you close your eyes as his lips brushed against yours, you breathed in a deep breath, following his words, "let's see how long you can last" was the last thing he spoke out before he dragged both of your bodies beneath the slightly cooled water,

goosebumps arose on your skin at the feeling of the colder water engulfing your body entirely contrasting the feeling of sunghoon's warmer body that he pressed against you, the moment both of you had sunk down, sunghoon dipped his head towards your lips, you held yourself from gasping out as his soft pillowy lips pressed firmly against yours,

sunghoon going far enough to teasingly lick your bottom lip, the lack of oxygen had your head spinning while he still held you beneath the water, clearly testing your limits as one of hands untied from your waist and began to delicately fondle your breast, his fingers brushing against your hardened nipple as he continued to taunt your body while you began to squirm in his hold,

seconds marched by as you felt a burning sensation spread over your chest while sunghoon's hand dipped lower, brushing pleasantly at your soaked folds, the feeling of his hands caressing and fondling your skin combined with the absence of air made your head spin, your dizziness increasing at the feeling of sunghoon's lips part from yours only to lower and bite at your neck whilst his finger was poking teasingly at your entrance,

with the burning sensation on your chest increasing, you pinched his arm as you felt your chest constricting, sunghoon hastily loosened his hold before he allowed both of your bodies to float towards the surface, gasping in desperation as you heaved in air, sunghoon himself breathing heavily against you as he grounded himself from his own lightheadedness, "didn't last that long, huh?" he mockingly asked as if he wasn't breathing in heaves of air,

"didn't expect your 'plans' to include murdering me" you replied back, closing your eyes in attempts to regulate your breathing while sunghoon chuckled against your neck, before sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, "i have other plans now, baby," he spoke lowly,

not giving you the chance to speak, sunghoon pushed his body against yours completely for a second time, this time allowing his hardened length that was standing proudly against his lower stomach to press against your abdomen, gasping quietly at his movements, sunghoon's hands loosened from around you, "come help me with my plan now, angel," sunghoon said as he leaned against the wall of the pool, resting his elbows in the edge behind him as water droplets cascaded down from his dark wet locks down to his broad chest,

the sight of his hooded gaze peeking at you through his strands almost made your knees buckle, you followed after him, sunghoon's love filled eyes following your every move as you stood in front of him, his frame towering over yours once you wrapped your hands around his neck to kiss him properly this time,

connecting your lips to his tenderly made sunghoon's hands drop from the edge to grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin when you began to suck on his bottom lip, altering from gently biting his lip to swallowing all of his low moans, whilst you busied yourself with his mouth, sunghoon's hand went lower to hold onto the back of your thigh,

lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, the change in position allowed his rock hard length to land directly against your dripping folds, both of you moaning at the feeling of his tip pressing against your entrance, "let me hear you, darling," he spoke against your kisses, dizzy by your continued suckling on his swollen lips, you parted from his mouth to allow all of your pretty sounds that he adored to fall from your lips the moment he pushed in his tip further against your welcoming soaked walls,

lustrous half lidded eyes studied all of the expressions painting across your face at the feeling of his length invading your walls, sunghoon's jaw dropped as he mimicked your expressions, breathing heavily at your tightness engulfing him when he bottomed out completely,

his other hand wrapped around your waist to keep you in place while his other tightened around the plush skin of your thigh, frailly beginning to rock his hips against yours while moving yours to match with his soft thrusts, his lips lazily locked around your shoulders, marking the skin sweetly whilst all your groans and moans landed perfectly on his ears, his length rubbing against all of the spots that had you seeing stars before thrusting out with only the tip remaining, he repeated this routine as both of you felt your lower stomachs tightening,

impending highs creeping up on you, while sunghoon quickened his pace, his mouth now occupied with sucking dark marks along your neck, beautiful blueish red marks decorating the expanse of your chest up to your neck, occasionally biting to make you gasp adorably against his ears, he swiftly moved your other thigh to wrap around his waist, your legs easily floating and wrapping around his waist beneath the rippling water, his tip pressing against your cervix deliciously in this position making you cry out his name,

"i'm right here, angel," he spoke against your neck, hips pressing against yours harshly, sunghoon was fully hugging you now while he pounded into you, ripples gradually turning into small waves travelling across the surface of the pool as both of you neared your highs, your cries fell into his ear while his continuous praises fell against yours, your body jerked in his hold, thighs trembling around his waist as you felt your orgasm right around the corner,

"h-hoon, i'm so c-close," you mewled out as his thrusts only began to turn rougher, almost pushing him over the edge with your weak voice crying out his nickname oh so sweetly, his own body shook as he felt his climax impossibly closer, his nails digging onto every inch of skin they touched whilst you desperately held onto him,

"i've got you, angel, i'm right here, baby," he croaked out needily into your ear, his weak voice combined with his nails clawing in despair whilst he held onto you as his thrusts became sloppy and his hips trembled against yours were enough to push you over the edge, the familiar tightening of your walls when you gushed around him dragged out his climax from him in a breathtaking manner,

sunghoon instantly locked his lips onto your swollen red ones as he dipped you below the water yet again, thick ropes of white, warm cum pushed out right against your cervix as your walls clung almost painfully around his length, the sudden loss of air made both of your climaxes take entirely over your body,

clutching onto his shoulders when he continued thrusting, his tongue riskily pressing inside of your mouth as you felt dizziness take over your body from your orgasm and the cold water engulfing you, lungs burning when you felt yourself seconds away from blacking out, slipping further from reality when sunghoon's hand sneaked downwards to toy with your clit, prolonging your dizzying high even further, relishing in the way you bit down harshly at his bottom lip,

sunghoon made you both ride out your orgasms, mouth still pressed against yours while tears prickled in the corners of your closed eyes, before you could pinch him again he quickly made you rise to the surface, your weak body slumping against his as he held you up, having the audacity to chuckle breathlessly at your fucked out expression, "darling, we haven't even started yet," he spoke out as he attempted to regulate his breathing, too tired to respond you only left his comment with a harsh pinch onto his shoulders that you were holding onto, earning a pained laugh from him,

sunghoon quickly walked towards the other edge facing the house, grabbing onto the towels he discarded once he walked into the balcony, he carefully walked out of the pool with your body wrapped around his, using a towel large enough to cover your slightly shaking body to shield you from the cold breeze along with his,

"let's go shower then we'll take a nap, alright angel?" he whispered softly into your ear, hands loosening around you when you nodded against him, he walked into the shower, dark interior extending into the bathroom, he gently placed you down after he removed the soaked towel, arm wrapped around your waist in support as he stepped beneath the large rectangular shower head,

warm water cascaded down both of your cold bodies, the slight numb feeling in your fingers disappearing whilst the water poured, sunghoon's larger frame wrapped around yours, love-struck eyes entranced by the sight of your blissed out face, with your eyes closed you wrapped your arms around his waist, his length remained between your thighs as he hold you close to him, allowing your bodies to warm up,

"'did so well for me, angel" he praised, loving gaze still stuck on you as you completely clouded his thoughts, "my pretty, perfect, angel" his voice continued to spill out praises lowly, squirming in his hold at his sweet words his hold on you tightened, holding himself back from moaning once your thighs brushed against his sensitive length,

you stopped your movement once you felt his semi hard length pressing against you, frozen as you looked up at him to see sunghoon's sultry gaze already locked on yours with his face flushed, "you're so needy today," you lowered your face, chuckling against his chest, when he grumbled, "you drive me crazy, angel" he groaned out, "i can tell," you responded, sneaking your hand between your bodies you grabbed his length before placing it between your folds, "baby-" sunghoon began, wanting to protest as he didn't want to tire you out, you shushed him your your finger, rocking your hips slowly against his allowing his cock to slip against your soaked folds,

sunghoon moaned lowly at the feeling of his cum dripping out from your cunt to rub against his length, your warmth gently stroking him whilst pearly precum dripped out from his reddened tip, mixing with the water, "fuck- baby, just like that," he moaned out once you began to move quicker, clenching your thighs to squeeze his cock perfectly,

"so fucking perfect for me, angel" he began to babble out once he felt the tensing feeling in his abdomen, "every part of you is so perfect," he breathed out needily, you stared at his expressions before he threw his head back, the hot droplets landing directly on his flushed face, cascading to drip down his neck, through the dim lighting you could see the expanse of his chest revealed entirely before your hungry eyes, without a second thought you dipped towards his neck, trailing soft kisses along his pale, smooth skin making him moan breathily, "i'm so c-close, angel, keep going," he choked out, imminent climax tightening in his lower stomach familiarly, his body trembled against yours as you continued to stroke his length,

sunghoon was in pure euphoria, you continued your ministrations, completely pushing him over the edge, his grip on your hips became firmer, he began to quicken your pace even further once he felt his high wash over his shaking body fully, breathy moans echoing throughout the bathroom as his cum trickled down your inner thighs before mixing with the water, you continued kissing and sucking along his neck resulting in goosebumps appearing along his skin, his thrusts slowing gradually, his grip on you loosened while you looked up at his dazed expression, "i'm so glad i married you."

"love me good, love me down, don't turn me down,"

after your mini marathon with sunghoon, he kept his words of letting you both take a rest before doing anything else for the rest of the day, it was way past the afternoon now, the evening approaching slowly as you and sunghoon were sitting on a small towel on the beach, the sunset's colours ahead of you mirrored on you both stunningly,

vibrant lights glowed from the numerous food stands placed around the side of the beach, carrying twinkling fairy lights from all colors while on the other side you could spot bodies swaying with other bodies as the loud speakers from the stage of a mini platform blared the song of the band performing atop of it,

your eyes occupied with gazing at all the scenes unfolding ahead of you, the chatter of the small crowds from the passersby accompanied by the singing of the dancing crowd, your ears also picked up the echoing laughter of children whilst they raced away from the waves, you felt at peace in such a happy place along with your lover who was gazing at your pleased expression with his heart soaring, every color from the fairylights and the fluorescent lights reflected from your twinkling eyes that he oh so deeply adored,

sunghoon shifted your attention back to him when he laid down gingerly and placed his head on your lap, chestnut strands contrasting your white dress that you wore as they spread out graciously, tempting you to run your fingers delicately throughout his hair which you began to do subconsciously, he hummed in satisfaction at the familiar feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp gently,

"feeling tired?" you asked him quietly as you stared at his gorgeous profile, the slope of his nose seeming to be carved by a deity, his moles decorating his pale skin elegantly, his usually furrowed eyebrows relaxed with his eyes closed, breathing in the salty air around him deeply, he looked serene as he was in a state so calm and tranquil he almost felt drowsy, "a bit," he replied,

truth is, he felt himself slipping further into his drowsiness, mere seconds away from completely disconnecting and falling into pure slumber as your fingers continued to work through his strands, the sounds of the crashing waves lulling him deeper,

he, however held himself back from falling asleep, especially not when you're in a good mood and you weren't even feeling sleepy like he was, he wasn't going to allow his plans to suddenly have the opposite effect on him with you awake and him asleep, fighting against his own body, he opened his eyes, his tired gaze meeting your expectant ones, "want me to get you a drink?" you questioned,

pointing into one of the stands that appeared to be serving cocktails to the group pf adults lining as other servers leaned down, smiling as they handed a bunch of kids what appeared to be colorful drinks from all types of fruits, sunghoon quickly nodded before he pushed his body off, "don't take too long," he grumbled whilst you began to walk away from him, you only chuckled at his grumpiness,

arriving before the welcoming server who happened to be a girl slightly younger than you, you hastily ordered a non-alcoholic beverage for sunghoon knowing that him getting drunk when he's sleepy was not the best idea, as the last time it happened it somehow ended up with him sleeping on the balcony without a blanket after he refused to listen to you in his intoxicated state, which resulted in him dealing with a cold for the rest of the week, and you for sure didn't want the trip to end so quickly,

the brunette— minjeong who told you her name sweetly during your small chat with her, "you're engaged?!" she questioned, bewilderment and shock evident on her face, "but you're still so young!" she continued as you laughed at her adorable expressions before you shrugged helplessly, you still had difficulty at fully digesting and processing the fact that you were engaged as well, everyday with sunghoon passing by as a mere blur yet it was something you grew accustomed to over time, "is that him?" minjeong asked you, looking behind you at an approaching figure of a young guy,

you turned around, thinking maybe you had taken too long hence why sunghoon could possibly be behind you right now, but instead you came face to face with a guy who appeared to be around your age, blonde hair sleeked back, slightly messy from what you guessed- him running his fingers through his strands as he was literally doing it in front of you,

he was a gorgeous man, curious dark brown eyes quickly travelled your figure before he revealed a breathtaking smile, he swiftly stood besides you, facing minjeong as he blurred out a random order, after minjeong's confused eyes flickered between the both of you, she walked towards the back, momentarily disappearing from your sight, the taller man next to you accepting this as an advantage turned his body to face you,

once he met your gaze, he smiled once again "you're a new face here," he spoke with a thick accent as he chuckled, eyes studying your face,

"you're for sure new around here," his voice low and smooth, awaiting for your answer while your heart drummed in your chest, you pushed the idea of sunghoon seeing you with a random guy, because besides avoiding getting him sick again on this trip, you truly didn't want to anger him- or worse, make him jealous on this trip,

opting to fix your hair with your engagement ring clad hand in hopes of him noticing and returning to wherever he came from, yet it seemed that it flew completely past by him as he continued, "you gonna respond to me, doll?" he leaned his body further towards you, provoking you even further whilst you backed away, "i'm here for a trip," you replied,

eyes ignoring his playful gaze, desperately searching for minjeong to arrive with sunghoon's drink so you can go back into his comforting embrace, "really? i can show you around then, doll" he smiled at you once again, eyes drinking you up, god you were gorgeous.

seeming to get no response again from you, your anxiousness growing worse with each second as did your discomfort, tapping your foot on the sand beneath you, "i'm jake by the way, what kind of trip are you on, doll?" he winked at you, his arm brushing against yours finally making you snap-

"a honeymoon trip."

a deep, familiar voice rasped out from behind you, sunghoon's arm snaking around your waist protectively and his figure towered behind you, almost in a scary manner, the comically funny sight of jake's face falling at sunghoon's appearance and words almost made you laugh, sunghoon's heavy breathing fanning at your neck forced goosebumps to arise on your body as his body almost shook with jealousy and at the sheer audacity of this random dude approaching you, was the diamond on your ring finger not big enough?

"you don't seem too happy about it, jake." sunghoon pressed on, now holding your hand and waving the diamond ring directly in front of his face, the irritation on jake's face becoming more visible with every passing second, before he sucked a deep breath in, "nah.. totally the opposite, congratulations." he replied through gritted teeth,

"so you were saying.. about showing her around?" sunghoon asked, eyebrow raised as his face remained stoic, his intimidating, glowering gaze raking over jake multiple times, while your heart only thumped at the increasing tension, part of you wishing minjeong to not come back and have the young girl witness whatever was going on between jake and sunghoon,

"you don't really find beautiful girls all alone around here.. they're usually with someone," jake began, his own challenging gaze holding sunghoon's angry one, "i knew she probably isn't from here, so that's why i approached her, she was standing all alone after all," jake kept bringing up the fact that you were alone, with each word coming out of his mouth sunghoon's grip tightened around you, you cursed at yourself for somehow managing to end up in this situation, sunghoon and jake felt like they were seconds away from jumping at each other as the latter kept spewing words to rile sunghoon further,

you held onto sunghoon's hand, his knuckles white and cold as they trembled beneath your hold, "you seem a bit experienced at approaching 'pretty girls' , jake." sunghoon replied, jake's eyes visibly darkening at his words, tilting his head yet before he could respond, a taller guy, clad in rings and chains, with jet black slightly wavy hair approached both of you,

his hands wrapped around jake's shoulders as he pulled him back, "woah! gentlemen, let's calm down a bit, yeah? there's still a lady here," the man with captivating round brown eyes smiled at you sweetly before his gaze switched between the two men who were breathing heavily, jake stumbled back into the guy's arms, huffing in frustration as his gaze softened in realisation once he saw your worried gaze, sunghoon's demeanour never wavered, his eyes still stuck on jake's face who seemed to be yet again distracted by you,

breathing out in relief, your shaky breaths finally caught the attention of sunghoon who stepped away from jake as he was getting scolded by the other guy, noticing the tight grip you had over his hand, sunghoon's racing heartbeat due to anger suddenly raced due to worry, guilt seeping through his veins when you closed your eyes in relief, face stricken with worry,

"baby.." he began, hands carefully reaching upwards to hold gently onto your face, before you held onto his wrists, jake and the other guy seemed a far distance away as the taller one seemed to be explaining something in an overly dramatic matter to another dark haired guy who looked at jake with a disapproving look, his frown only deepening when jake's only response was to roll his eyes and wave them off,

sunghoon's heart momentarily stopped when your weak hold wrapped around his wrist, "i'll see you at the house," you spoke, voice quiet though it rung in sunghoon's ears once you walked away from him, heading towards the house which was a few streets away, leaving him all alone in the beach,

he fucked up.

you fucked up.

if only you had been able to tell jake from the beginning that you were engaged, maybe that could've stopped him from continuing his questions which resulted in sunghoon almost getting into a fight if it wasn't for the bambi-eyed guy stepping in and dragging jake away, now both your and sunghoon's mood was ruined entirely, especially sunghoon's— which was way worse.

all scenarios and daydreams that you kept thinking of, how magical this trip would be and how special it'll be for only the two of you got ruined as you managed to fuck it up.

how were you going to make it up for sunghoon?

not only did you anger him, you left him alone at the beach as well, who knows maybe he got into a fight with jake after you left? or he sat down and sadly drank his drink minjeong handed him as he decided that giving you some alone time would be the best decision for now,

just how were you supposed to make it up for him?

slumping against the bed once you finally arrived into the house, the memories of the morning earlier overtaking your thoughts, what a turn of events.

and as you wallowed in worry and guilt, an idea popped up in your head so sensibly, praying to all deities and gods above that sunghoon would follow along to what you were thinking,

"got a bed with your name on it,"

and after what seemed to be an hour or maybe a half, maybe even two, sunghoon lost complete track of time as he sat down at the beach, his glass empty infront of him, memories from the previous hours kept repeating in his head, great, it was only the first day of the trip he insisted on and he managed to ruin it by almost breaking one of the main promises you begged him for, to never get into fights because of you, or possibly end up in a situation that hurt him because of you,

the promise went both ways, and you so politely kept yours throughout the four years, whilst he on the other hand always ended up in situations where he either broke it or almost broke it,

his anger was one of the main things he despised about himself, he hated how out of control his emotions could get sometimes to the point of worrying you like today, his possessiveness and jealousy were different factors that he also disliked, but he couldn't help it.

not when he got so miraculously lucky and was blessed with you as his lover, he loved and adored you so much, you were his entire world, his entire universe revolved around you, you were such a pure hearted and kind soul, your breathtaking beauty another bonus making you an angel in his eyes,

you attracting the hungry eyes of other men should be no surprise to sunghoon, turning heads in every room you walked was something he had to grow accustomed to, holding back his anger from punching any and every man that stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes,

yet when he saw jake so carelessly hitting on you, even though you did every possible movement to get your ring in his vision along with jake's ministrations continuing though you were clearly uncomfortable, anyone could tell from miles away that you didn't wish to continue whatever jake was insunating and it had sunghoon seeing red, like stated before, he can't help himself.

and now after a short conversation with the guy who dragged jake away, who he learned to be heeseung, seeming more mature than jake, he apologised for his friend's actions which he unexpectedly received an apology from sunghoon for,

"i acted on my anger as well, i'm sorry, i should've just told him we're engaged and ended it there," he spoke out, voice low in exhaustion and guilt, heeseung only smiled at his changed demeanour, witnessing a contrasting side of sunghoon that seemed like a complete different person than the man who he distanced jake from in fear that this might be the time that jake will end up hurt,

his fiery eyes simmered down to eyes filled with regret and shame at his childish behaviour, heeseung quickly reassured him that it was alright, understanding sunghoon's perspective entirely, "it's cool man, you only did what you had to do as a man, to protect your woman." heeseung smiled comfortingly at him, sunghoon smiled slightly at the way heeseung referred to you, it wasn't anything new to him, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat whenever people mentioned your name around him let alone called you 'his woman',

"which- congratulations on the engagement by the way," heeseung added, his twinkling round eyes gazing at sunghoon gently, before sunghoon smiled back at him in appreciation, "thank you."

"we could still.. show you around the island you know.. i'll keep jake in control, i promise," he spoke, awkwardly scratching at his neck, preparing his response for sunghoon's rejection, his words made sunghoon chuckle, nodding in agreement at heeseung, resulting in the older's eyes brightening, "you better get going now, i'm sure she's waiting for you," he spoke while wiggling his eyebrows in a kid like manner, his actions made sunghoon shake his head as he chuckled before he decided to finally head back home, apology memorised and prepared in his head throughout his time at the beach,

"see you tomorrow, sunghoon! goodnight!" heeseung shouted from the opposite direction of sunghoon as he waved his hand, sunghoon responded with a 'goodnight' before they both disappeared from each other's sights,

sunghoon's heart was thumping against his chest, thoughts of your reaction and responses clouded his anxious mind, he hoped and wished that you both will be able to talk this out and not fight, he could feel small sweat droplets roll below his neck, his head almost aching from his worry and fatigue, all he wanted to do was to hold you tight in his embrace and sleep comfortably, but it seemed like the universe had different plans,

you had completely different plans.

walking inside of your house to see all the lights turned off, no traces of you in the balcony nor the kitchen, sunghoon's stress worsened as he dragged his feet into the bedroom to welcome a sight that'll easily knock the breath out of his lungs,

maybe he was overthinking with your 'reactions and responses', especially since every scenario in his head consisted of negative emotions followed by negative outcomes, that completely contrasted the sight of you, clad in nothing but a light pink— strawberry coloured lace lingerie, laying on your side cozily on the bed, facing the forest, seemingly awaiting your lover's arrival,

sunghoon swallowed thickly, heart thundering once you turned around, dazed eyes meeting his gaze making his breath hitch, he took in your appearance for a second time,

"angel.." he breathed out heavily, he could feel the apparent tightening in his pants increasing, you blinked at him innocently, before you turned your whole body towards him, the sight of your breasts barely covered by the see-through lacey bra had him biting the inside of his cheek, he came here to apologise, so what the fuck was he going to do?

"join me?" you spoke out, drawing him out of his conflicted thoughts, once he registered your words he quickly wiped his sweaty palms into the fabric of his pants, walking towards you and noticing a small strawberry in your hand, the bowl of strawberries placed onto the bedside table also coming into view accompanied by a can of whipped cream,

he really did get ridiculously lucky with you.

his feet dragged him towards you in no time, body crawling over the bed to tower over yours, you looked at him through your lashes once he began to move, grabbing the strawberry from your hand before reaching out for the whipped cream, removing the cap to press on the nozzle and cover half of the strawberry with the icy frosting, he inched his hand towards your mouth, never breaking the eye contact when he fed you the strawberry,

his hand flicked into the corner, landing a bit of the frosting onto the side of your mouth, "sorry.. let me help you," he spoke with faux sympathy, his lust filled eyes barely visible with his hair strands falling graciously, obstructing his vision yet his eyes never left your mouth, your heart hammered in your ribcage once he licked his lips before he leaned in to lick the frosting from the corner of your mouth teasingly,

whilst he had you distracted, his hand held the can above your chest, tilting the top lower to drip the remaining bits of the cream onto your chest, and once you hissed at the cold droplets landing against your warm skin you heard him gasp in shock, "oops, i don't know how it's getting everywhere," he chuckled, not giving you the chance to respond he dipped lower to caress your skin with his wet tongue, humming in delight once the sweet frosting melted in his mouth, relishing in your low whimpers,

he shook the can in his hand whilst he busied his mouth with softly suckling on your supple skin, dragging the cream over your rib cage then going lower to your stomach, "sorry baby.. i just can't help it," he breathed out, licking up all the whipping cream from your rib only to land kisses along the expanse of your skin when it got clean, you whimpered once he dipped lower to lick your belly button, before he stopped at the hem of your panties, you sat up on your elbows to see sunghoon discarding the bottle onto the bed, attaching his teeth onto the hem as he held your gaze, hauling the thin fabric to your knees then yanked it off below your ankles,

you fell back against the bed, lightheaded when he lifted your thighs gently to wrap them around his shoulders, face descending lower, allowing him to inhale your sweet scent, he felt slightly dizzy at your closer contact that he had been impatiently waiting for,

"you're dripping baby.." his voice lowered, sunghoon ran the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds, eyes closing once your nectar bursted with flavour on his tongue along with your breathy moans falling onto his ears divinely,

one hand coming up to rub slow circles over your aching clit as he began to carefully push his tongue into your drenched entrance, you gasped out in surprise once his tongue began to lick all over your walls, waves of pleasure electrifying your spine as he continued to please you, his tongue and finger never faltering in movement while you gripped the sheet, the coil in your stomach constricting from your building up release, voice increasing in pitch when he began to fasten his actions, "hoon- i'm cumming!" you warned before your climax crashed onto you quicker than you could've processed,

sunghoon only moaned lowly against your cunt while you gushed around him, he licked every drop of your nectar whilst his finger never stalled, aiding you in riding out your high as you continued to moan beautifully for him, sunghoon slowly stopped and finished off with a small kiss onto your clit making you squirm before he crawled towards you, allowing you to take the heavenly sight of his face glistening, his gaze almost seeming intoxicated at your flavour, "so much sweeter than that stupid cream," he spoke out amidst him connecting his lips onto yours, groaning slightly at the taste of the sweet strawberry still on your tongue all the while you tasted yourself and the cream on his,

sunghoon's hands restlessly tugged at your lace bra, his mouth still latched onto yours as he impatiently ripped the fabric off easily, you mewled into his mouth once his hands began to fondle your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples while his mouth sucked onto your bottom lip,

sunghoon pulled away momentarily to discard his own clothes in a blur, each item landing in a different location in the room, he crawled back to you eagerly, your hands instantly lifting up to caress his smooth skin, running your fingers down his shoulders to his waist as you stared at him lovingly, his body warming yours, your tender gaze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, he quickly reconnected your mouths with his tongue running along yours, lifting your legs up carefully to rest on his shoulders then he moved to push your knees onto your chest,

his rock hard length fitted snugly against your folds, teasingly resting his heavy weight over your pulsing clit, sunghoon pulled away to reach into the bowl, pulling another strawberry, placing the fruit into his mouth with half of it protruding, he leaned towards you, enticing you to take a bite,

you pushed yourself forward, connecting your lips shortly until you took a bite of the fruit, sweet flavour exploding to your mouth whilst sunghoon stared at you, gaze half open and glimmering as his length twitched against you, he hastily dipped to capture your lips again, in the meantime his hand went lower, positioning his tip along your entrance before he slowly pushed himself deeper, inch by inch stretching you open on his thick length, deliciously filling you up all the while licking needily into your mouth,

you moaned into his mouth once he bottomed out, tip pressed snugly against your cervix whilst your walls were accommodating to the burning stretch, sunghoon mouth worked sloppily against yours, swallowing all your sounds when he began to slightly move, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth yet it bothered neither of you, his hands held the back of your knees roughly, keeping you in place as he began to pound into you,

his mouth kissed along your jaw, allowing your moans and whimpers to reverberate throughout the room, you helplessly clawed at his biceps, digging your nails into his skin resulting in him hissing in pleasure, sunghoon's hips pistoned into yours, his cock running along and hitting all of your sweet spots, his hands moved towards your breast, caressing the skin before he latched his mouth onto your nipple,

the feeling of his teeth slightly biting your skin had your eyes rolling back, your hands pulling at the sheets once squelching, wet sounds echoed throughout the room followed by both your and sunghoon's moans, "i'm gonna fill you up so good, angel," he groaned against your skin, "you'll feel my cum throughout the entire week, he continued,

nuzzling his head into your neck, he pressed his mouth onto your ear, hips never faltering against you, "gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, yeah?" he grunted, breath hot on your ear, his body jerking against yours, small sweat droplets rolling off from him to land against you, the smell of sex and your mixed arousal filling the room, "fuck- yes! please, baby," you whimpered in his ear, abdomen tightening for a second time causing your walls to clamp around him, he groaned in pleasure as he sloppily thrusted into your heat, "please what, angel?"

"please fill me up," you whispered weakly, throat hoarse and your voice almost disappearing, his mind was spinning once he felt his approaching release as his cock was practically moulding your walls to his shape, his length was continuously jerking inside of you at his orgasm, your wetness mixed with his precum now dripping below your thighs to stain the mattress, "gonna let me fuck my baby into you, hm?" he teased with his cock drilling inside of you, "god you'd look so gorgeous carrying my baby," he continued babbling whilst you nodded dumbly at his words, too distracted by your release, sunghoon's hands fondled your breasts, "gonna look so pretty with these filled with your sweet milk," his hands squeezed your tits at his 'these' word, finger pinching at your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth,

his own hips began to uncontrollably convulse while your legs trembled on his shoulders, your eyes rolling back for the nth time once your orgasm washed over you, jaw going slack all the while sunghoon's gaze never left your face, his mouth still latched onto your nipple as he whimpered at the tight feeling of your walls clamping on his length, he lifted his face to pepper small kisses all along your jaw and cheeks, your breath uneven as sunghoon helped you to ride out your orgasm, eyes closed tightly in pure bliss, "such a good girl, creaming all over my cock" he praised, softly brushing loose strands away from your face before he pecked your lips, "my perfect good girl,"

in the blink of an eye he switched your positions, holding you on your side while he laid behind you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he held your leg open before plunging his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of your wetness gushing out more when he thrusts back in, his other hand swiftly landed against your clit to rub slow circles on your puffy nub whilst his length thrusted into your warmth in deep and steady strokes,

his hot breath fanning your shoulders, kissing the skin of your neck every now and then while his eyebrows furrowed, his mind in a frenzy as his climax felt mere seconds away, "come on angel, cream all over my cock again. come on, baby" sunghoon whined from behind you, each word going straight to your needy cunt making you clench around him, you felt like you were on cloud nine with his constant overstimulation, his hand never slowed against your clit while his cock ached inside of you,

"h-hoon i c-can't-" you stuttered out, he moaned at the feeling of you tightening at his words, your cunt sucking him in entirely, "yes baby, you can, come on. i need to feel it, baby" he blabbered, you couldn't tell if you were being overstimulated or if sunghoon dragged another orgasm out of you as you cried, your body shaking entirely once you began squirting all over his length, sunghoon's breath hitched, a chain of fuckfuckfuck- spilling from his mouth as his climax washed over him, pressing his hips against yours to push his tip to your cervix, allowing his warm load to shoot into your womb while your walls milked him fully, both of you panting in overstimulation and fatigue as he filled you up,

sunghoon carefully placed your sore leg down, length still buried deep in you to keep his load in place, you were exhausted, already slipping off to a deep slumber whilst you began to feel sunghoon press kisses along your shoulder,

"so.. am i forgiven?" he asked quietly,

"yeah- yeah i think so."

then you heard him whisper a sweet 'i love you.' before completely surrendering to sleep,

BONUS:

and here you were on your fifth day of the trip, indulging in a conversation with heeseung as he explained all the other different games to you, all with captivating colorful lights that easily distracted you,

on the other side of the arcade you could spot minjeong and jay sitting down at a bench together, each holding a cup that contained god knows what as they were both already tired with their social batteries empty,

while your dear fiance- there really was no need to look for him once you heard him yelling at jake, a few feet away from you while jake shouted a 'cheater!' to his face,

"how the fuck can i cheat when i'm literally playing a claw machine?!" sunghoon yelled back in bewilderment,

"seriously how did you marry him?" heeseung questioned as he covered his ears for the nth time due to their shouting, you only laughed at his frustrated expression since you, yourself didn't know how you managed to marry sunghoon.

A. NOTE (pt2): this took like more than 4 days i'm not gonna post till next year atp. also this is proof read but it's also 7k so pls ignore any sentences that don’t make sense <3

[suashii]

୨♡୧ LONELY EYES, LONELY BOY — gojo x reader. sfw. eventual fluff.

gojo satoru is the loneliness boy you’ve met.

if you told anyone you thought that, they’d laugh in your face and ask if you were talking about the same person. the guy that’s invited to and attends every party on campus? the one who throws himself into all the sports and clubs he can possibly manage? you can admit that he’s a social butterfly but, despite the many faces that surround him and the constant smile playing at his lips, there’s an emptiness behind gojo’s cerulean irises.

it’s strange, you think, that you’ve picked up on this isolated variant of his. everyone knows of gojo but not many people truly know him and you’re no exception. although, the sneaking glances you steal when he thinks no one is watching are telling. you don’t miss the way his bright blues stare off into space while he absentmindedly taps his pencil against his desk as the professor lectures. the way he slips away from the thick of the crowd to step outside onto the patio and take a silent moment for himself isn’t lost on you. you wonder if he’s aware of how transparent he can be if someone cares to look hard enough.

even though you can only call him an acquaintance or classmate at best, those fleeting glimpses of loneliness and solitude you happen to catch lingering in his eyes blanket you with an air of melancholy.

how can someone so prominent, so well-liked, also be so alone?

you ask yourself that question a lot, especially during those moments when the gojo everyone knows and loves disappears and is traded in for the one disguised to hide his woes. he’s here now, at the university-sanctioned event held to honor and acknowledge the outstanding students on campus.

he wears a bright smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he greets and converses with the many professors and advisors that approach him to share their congratulations on his academic achievements. not once do you see anyone aside from the faculty at his side.

when there’s finally a break in the flow of bodies around him, gojo takes the opportunity to wipe his palms on his thighs before leisurely making his way to the door. all too soon, the white fluff of his hair is no longer visible. you quickly excuse yourself and scurry off to follow behind him.

you’re nervous that he decided to call it a night when you finally push past the heavy, metal door but the concrete steps leading down to the parking lot aren’t unoccupied. he’s situated on the far right side of the stairs, hands folded together and head tilted up toward the star-littered sky. his eyes look bluer, brighter, in the dimness of the night—but they’re blank, vacant.

he’s physically present but you have no idea where his mind is. and maybe it isn’t your place to figure that out, but you want to know. that’s why you’re feet are carrying you down the steps before you consider the fact that he might have come out here because he wanted to get away from everyone—including you. but the scuffing of your shoes drifting through the air and the movement beside him doesn’t even alert him of your arrival which is enough to convince you that he shouldn’t be alone right now.

you quietly clear your throat. “hi.”

at your voice, gojo turns to you with his signature smile. it’s jarring how promptly and effortlessly the switch between the two happens. it’s clearly practiced which sends a pang to your heart—he’s been doing this for a while.

“well, hello.” he returns your greeting naturally, running a hand through his windswept hair. it’s the only indication that you caught him off guard. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that was all there was to it. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“oh, i was just getting some fresh air.” you nod as if it’ll make your lie more believable. you’ve never been one to pride yourself on your patience, though, and you’re almost sure your curiosity is going to kill you if you don’t just spit it out. so you do, jerking your head in the direction of the parking lot before asking, “still waiting on your parents?”

“hm?” he hums, the grin he wears slipping for a split second before it’s back in place, as though the lapse never happened. gojo shakes his head. “no, they’re away on business. they send their congratulations, though.” he smiles as he says it, but there’s a concealed bitterness lingering in his voice like he wanted them here but expected they wouldn’t be coming.

you hate the thought of this being normal for him but you have no right to speak on his family life. there’s one thing you think you can do for him in this moment. you nudge his shoulder with yours, lips curling up into a playful smile. “you can have mine for the night. they have more than enough parental proudness to go around.”

he chuckles softly. it’s much different than the boisterous laugh you’re used to hearing bounce off the walls of whatever room you’re in. it’s a gentle noise that makes your heart flutter in your chest and the smile tugging at your lips widen.

“thanks,” and you can tell by his tone that the rest of his sentence won’t be what you want to hear, “but i’m fine on my own.”

you shouldn’t have to be, you almost blurt out before biting your tongue. you ask yourself why this sad reality of gojo’s frustrates you so much and it doesn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to put your finger on it. it’s because no one else is. the people who should be—his family, the ones who consider themselves his friends—they don’t care. maybe that’s why you do.

you turn your body so you’re facing him—really facing him. you want him, need him, to know that someone sees past the shield he puts up to hide his silent struggle. he needs to know that you care. it’s a long shot, but you know you’ll regret it if you don’t try. “are you doing anything after this?”

“no,” he draws out the vowel, entertained by your question. he has no idea where you’re going with this but he certainly intends on finding out. with an elbow propped on his thigh, gojo rests his chin in the palm of his hand, putting his dimpled smile on perfect display for you. thick white lashes brush the tops of his cheeks as he blinks in curiosity. “why?”

“i was just thinking,” you trail off before finding your voice again, “that you deserve to have someone to celebrate with. and i know of a café that serves really good desserts nearby.”

the corners of his lips twitch before they slowly fall, not because he’s unhappy, but because he’s surprised. he wasn’t sure what you planned on asking him but he didn’t think it would be an invitation, especially not one to honor his accomplishments. no one else in his life bothered to even attend this event with him and he can’t imagine they would have offered to take him out after if they had shown up. but you, someone he’s spoken to so little that he can count the number of times on one hand, just did.

it shouldn’t, but his palpable shock makes you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile. you were almost positive he was going to turn you down but his reaction has given you hope that he might accept your suggestion. you give in and let the smile pull your lips up as you place a hand on his knee and give it a gentle squeeze.

“so… how about it?” you ask.

maybe you can be the one to make this lonely boy a little less lonely.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[tonowarii]

Yawne

Pairing: Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan x Fem! Dreamwalker! Reader

Request: Tsu'tey with a dreamwalker reader were they come up with human nicknames for him when they are training become one of the na'vi, and he's confused and asks jake. So when he finds out he starts calling her nicknames that are meant for mates or something in his language. Something that makes the reader flustered. If you want to.

Word count: 2.3k

Warning/s: none really?? just fluff bc tsu'tey <333

Note: tsu'tey i miss u man come back <3 Anyways, likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are much appreciated! Let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

yawne - beloved

tìyawn - love

You face planted. Hard.

Groaning, you prop yourself up with your elbows. Your face was caked with mud from falling off your direhorse.

“Glad I’m not the only one falling off my ass.” You could hear Jake playfully say as he walked with Neytiri, going somewhere to teach him how to use a bow.

You could hear Neytiri smack him on the arm, muttering something else.

“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” You say with a light chuckle.

“You are not taking this seriously.” Someone spoke from above you.

Looking up, you spot the usual scowl on the man’s face, Tsu’tey. Soon to be olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya clan. The man you wanted to choke the living daylights of, at the same time he was also the man whom your heart started to beat for.

It was stupid, really, falling in love with your instructor, you knew your stay here would may as well be temporary, but you were going to make the most of it.

“I am, give me a break I just fell off my horse.” You grumble, standing up to meet his eye, well, you still had to look up from the difference in height.

“There are no breaks. How are you going to learn? You Sky People should just go away.”

You knew of his distaste in the Sky People, and you couldn’t blame him. You hated your own kind too. For now, you just played with him.

“I can’t, I know you’d miss me, Casanova.” The edge of your lip curls up in a smirk at the nickname you gave him.

Tsu’tey’s brow knitted together at confusion for the said nickname, yet he ignores it, jerking his head towards the horse. “Again.”

All you could do was sigh and hop on the direhorse again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you got used to Tsu’tey being by your side, the nicknames you gave him started to get worse. However, you enjoyed the grumpy look on the warrior, it made you laugh.

“Where are we going now, Romeo?” You asked, trailing behind him through the forest, holding your bow.

You could hear his tall figure let out a ‘Tch’ before he kept going.

“Not even going to answer me, Romeo? Oh, you pain me.” You giggle.

“I do not understand what you are saying, woman.” Tsu’tey said, stopping and finally looking at you.

“That’s why it makes things more exciting, don’t you think? Since we’re spending all this time together.” You speak nonchalantly. Tsu’tey couldn’t believe how lively you were being.

And the worst part is? He’s enjoying it.

None of the young hunters he had trained had the personality like you, no. It was either they were too focused, which Tsu’tey liked, but the others were too scared or often other female na’vi would just flirt with him.

But he would rather feed himself to a viperwolf than let you know that he’d been enjoying this little game of nicknames of yours, even if he didn’t know what it meant. It made all the time spent with you more fun, like he said, lively.

Still, he was always reminded that you were one of the Sky People, another dreamwalker on their planet. But why was he feeling a certain way when you smile at him?

When you perfected something he taught you, why does he want to go to you and congratulate you by holding your hand and smiling at you?

Instead, what he does is nod at you, before making you do it again to make sure. He must remain professional, but why does his instinct crumble when it comes to you?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Hold it.” Tsu’tey said to you as you held your drawn bow.

“Higher.” Tsu’tey commanded, but you didn’t follow. He bites the inside of his cheek before grabbing your elbow, your body inches away from his as he raised your elbow at the height it was intended. He never failed to notice the slight dark hue to your cheeks.

He backed away again, wanting to see your form. “ (Correct).”

You smile at him, and he almost smiles back at you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The game went on and soon you’ve called him a bunch of names.

It ranged from honey, sweetie, sweetheart, honey bun, and a bunch more that Tsu’tey couldn’t keep up with. It made him curious, why were you calling him like that?

So, there he was one night after a feast, his eyes trailed to you. You were wearing their clothes and you looked even beautiful. You were currently laughing about something with Neytiri when the curiosity of his mind got the better of him.

Thankfully, Jake was just right beside him.

“I have a question, JakeSully.” He said to the man who seemed quite busy stuffing his mouth with food.

“Oh, sure. What’s up?”

Tsu’tey suddenly debated whether he should really be asking Jake. But as since the two of you were from the same kind, he figured he knows much more a lot about it than the others.

“(Y/N) keeps calling me things- things I do not understand.” Tsu’tey said.

“Oh? What things?” Jake replied.

“What does ‘honey bunch’ mean?”

At that, Jake could swear he inhaled some of his food as he broke out into a laugh.

Tsu’tey frowned, does it mean something bad? Were you making fun of him the whole time?

“Man, didn’t know she had it in her.” Jake laughed.

“What does it mean?” Tsu’tey said, slightly tightening his grip on the strap of his holster, awaiting Jake’s answer.

“Well, it’s a nickname, I know you know that. But its you know, something you call your… how do I put this?” Jake thought. “Like its something you call your mate only.”

Tsu’tey then felt his grip loosen at Jake’s words. All this time you were calling him names that were meant for your beloved.

Tsu’tey’s mouth went agape for a moment, before gulping and nodding. “Ah, I see.”

“Its also a way for her to tell you that she likes you, trust me, I know her.” Jake said before going back to eating and talking with the other na’vi.

He inhales, his eyes finding their way back to you, to his surprise, your eyes met his.

Then you smiled and waved at him.

He didn’t know how to respond, so he moves away from your gaze, busying himself with his thoughts that he missed your frown at being ignored.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You and Tsu’tey now sat in front of each other, under one of the highest branches in hometree.

He was teaching you how to speak na’vi.

“Nam’ake.” Tsu’tey said.

“Namate.” You repeated but Tsu’tey shook his head.

“Nam’ake.” He repeated.

“Nam’ake.” You said.

“Good.”

There was that smile of yours again. “You are learning well, tìyawn.” He smiles smugly at your confused face.

“What does that mean?” You ask him as he shrugged, smirking. “Hey, no fair, since when did you also start calling me names, huh?” You spoke.

“You started it first.” He was now being playful with you, which was a new thing , still, you enjoyed it, getting to see this side of Tsu’tey.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You just finally had your first kill as you closed your eyes, thanking a silent prayer to Eywa before mercy killing the hexapede in front of you with your dagger.

Tsu’tey watched, a proud smile on his face as you learned well from him.

“You are ready, yawne.”

You open your eyes again to look at him. “You got to tell me what that means.” You say, standing up, sheathing your dagger back into its holster.

“Maybe one day.” He replies.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After countless days, you were now ready to be signified as one of the people, one of the Omaticaya.

Tsu’tey and Neytiri traced the white liquid onto you and Jake’s body.

You could feel yourself shiver as Tsu’tey’s hand dips into the bowl then traced a line down your lips. You could feel his concentration. You didn’t miss how his fingers lingered on your lips before removing them.

Tsu’tey was proud of you. Once you walked out with Jake, you could see all of the Omaticaya turn their heads towards the two of you. It made you shiver, you heart spiking as you made your way down.

You and Jake were still beside each other as Eytukan was in front of you. “You are now a son and daughter of Omaticaya.” He spoke in Na’vi. You stare at his gentle gaze. “You are part of The People.”

Eytukan both laid a hand on yours and Jake’s shoulder. You could feel yourself becoming one with them. Not just a person in an avatar body, but as truly one of the people. You see Neytiri clasps her hand on Jake’s body, a proud smile on her face, making you smile too.

Then you suddenly feel two rough, calloused hands rest their place on your shoulder and you immediately recognize who it was.

Tsu’tey.

And then a big feast was yet again held, celebrating becoming one with the people as you and Jake were now warmly welcomed by the others.

“Come, come dance with us!” Neytiri said, pulling you up from your sitting position. Your eyes widened as you gasped. “Neytiri, I’m no dancer!” You said, dark hue tinting your cheeks.

Neytiri smiled yet she was persistent as you already found yourself standing and being pulled along with her.

Tsu’tey didn’t miss the scene as his eyes followed yours, he watched as you began to dance along with the Omaticaya women. His eyes only focusing on your figure. He watched how you went from doing small moves into finally feeling yourself as your hips dipped and swayed to the drumming.

His eyes were only pried away when one of his friends talked to him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After finishing the dance, you laugh, out of breath as you and Neytiri conversed, making your way back to your original spot. You had a few drinks in your system that you didn’t even realize was possible, leaving your face lightly flushed and feeling confident.

Reaching the destination giggling to yourselves, Neytiri playfully shoved you against Tsu’tey’s front. You gasped as your hands placed themselves on his broad chest to stop the impact as his arms instinctively reached out to catch you.

“Enjoy (Y/N).” Neytiri teases before going to Jake, pulling him up from his seat and dragging him somewhere. You gasp at her, laughing to yourself, not realizing a certain warrior was now holding your almost intoxicated self.

Your attention was now turned to Tsu’tey as you looked up at him. “Hi.” You greet with a sheepish smile, your hands still on his chest., lingering there for a few seconds before you retracted it, the same with Tsu’tey’s arms.

You then tried to move beside him to sit when he suddenly grabbed your arm, making you stop and look up at him again, your breath hitching in your throat.

“(Y/N).” He said your name with his thick accent, his voice almost lower than its usual tone. “Hmm?” You inquired. Before you know it, he was leading you somewhere away from the people… somewhere secluded yet beautiful as the bioluminescence glowed and you could hear the trinkling of water somewhere nearby.

Tsu’tey did not know what he was doing, but he guessed it was time to say it, before everything was too late.

But he feels his words melt away as he saw you standing there, your hair was down in cascading waves from them being trapped in a braid for too long, you were wearing a top adorned with little flowers and vines as they littered your chest. You were looking around, your face in awe, admiring the flowers that glowed and the ground beneath you glow as you stepped.

Think straight. Tsu’tey tells himself.

Moving towards you, he reaches for your arm.

You glance at him with a smile. “It’s beautiful here.”

“(Y/N).” He speaks again. You listen.

“You are one of the people now. You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree,” He began, but the next thing he was going to say felt heavy on his chest. He looks into your eyes to find you staring at him. He opens his mouth.

“And you may now choose a man. The Omaticaya has made men into fine warriors, protectors, like Atsìì.” He spoke.

You recognized Atsìì, also one of the fine warriors in the Omaticaya clan.

But the way your face lit up at the mention of his name made Tsu’tey regret mentioning him.

“I know him,” you say, making Tsu’tey’s ear twitch but he ignores the gnawing feeling in his stomach. “But I don’t see him that way.”

He instantly felt relieved that he almost let out a sigh, he almost gave himself away.

“But there is this fine warrior.” You spoke, never taking your eyes off him as he listened.

“A very fine warrior who has a strong heart.” The drinks you had were really taking its effect on you as you slowly smiled at him.

“And he has taught me many things,” You decide to push your luck and place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart as you inch your face close to his. “He taught me how to love.”

Tsu’tey’s hand rests themselves on your hips as he fully realized who you were talking about. You were talking about him. Him.

A proud smile slowly makes its way to his lips, his fangs showing as his tail flicked behind him. “I taught you how to love, hm?”

You nod, smiling at him. “You did, tìyawn.”

Tsu’tey’s head tilt at you upon hearing the word. You giggle, coming closer as he leaned down, your lips almost brushing his.

“Two can play at that game.” You whisper before his head dips and your lips connect.

[lovinpelova]

winner winner | j. fleming

summary; you go out to celebrate winning the womens super league and fa vitality cup with chelsea, jessie catches onto a stranger flirting before you do. [SMUT]

🎵 all mine - brent faiyaz

chelsea were on another level this season, your contract renewal had shocked your rivals into a goal drought due to emma playing you the full ninety minutes every game since. you'd also averaged three clearances, two assists and a goal every game according to sky sports, claiming you were the greatest midfielder in the wsl at the moment and chelsea winning two consecutive titles was proof of your undeniably large impact on the pitch.

the blues were always undoubtedly consistent and on a higher performance level than their opponents every season, it's undeniable and that's coming from an arsenal fan, but with you and jessie they became unstoppable. fans adored you enough since you'd been in a public relationship when you moved to chelsea during the same season but when they finally saw how good you can be on the pitch together, they were in awe of the chemistry.

now you had the fa cup and wsl to your name, and what type of champions would chelsea be if you didn't go out to get drunk the same night?

so here you were, sat comfortable with your girlfriends arm around your shoulders as she whispered sweet nothings and dirty jokes into your ear, the both of you in your own bubble before niamh came over with guro. your seperate best friends dragged you off to dance with teammates and drink the night away, everything going fine until he came over.

he being a complete stranger that just happened to be in the same bar as you.

you thought he was just being friendly at first, figuring he wouldn't flirt if guro was still stood next to you and listening into the conversation, so you found no harm in it. he seemed like a nice guy, congratulating you on your double-win and saying it's a shame you couldn't win the continental cup to make it a treble. jokes flew back and forth with guro joining in every now and then before she decided to get another drink, yourself and the nice stranger moving to the side of the dancefloor so you weren't getting bumped into or complained at for standing directly in the middle of a sea of movement.

little to your knowledge jessie had watched the whole interaction, curious as to who he was and not giving a shit about maintaining her composure anymore when he placed his hand on your shoulder in a very flirty manner. the midfielder wasn't usually possessive, her shy nature didn't allow her to grow jealous and be obvious about it- but tonight the win had fueled her into a new state of mind.

"hey niamh, i'm not feeling too good all of a sudden i think i might go home."

"oh, sure jess. i'm sure y/n will go back with you if you tell her. hope you feel better soon!"

"yeah, i'll go check. thanks."

the canadian practically stormed through the crowd of dancers and emerged to find you - no flirty stranger - with a sudden confusion written on her expression.

"where'd that guy go?"

"oh, he went to the bar i think. why?"

"we're going home right now."

before you could ask what was wrong or why she was wanting to leave out of nowhere she grabbed your hand and lead you away from the bar, towards the parking lot and drove home in complete silence, continuing to be quiet when she unlocked the door to your shared apartment until she pressed you up against the wall before you even had time to take off your shoes.

"you're mine."

you couldn't respond due to her lips being pressed against yours viciously, hands clawing at your hips to pull your body into hers whilst you were still trying to keep up with the sudden switch in jessies mood. you wrapped your arms around her neck to pull her closer and kiss back with just as much emotion, moaning at the feeling of her tongue gliding over your bottom lip and colliding with yours in a sloppy makeout session. you didn't know where it came from but you definitely weren't complaining.

jessie rarely ever showed her jealous side due to how much she trusted you and she was definitely never this rough, only being a bit harsh if you literally begged her to or wound her up enough. the canadian usually treats you like glass, being so careful and soft with whispers of praise as she gently coaxes you towards an orgasm - but tonight was different - you could tell by the way she pinned you to the wall with her lips carelessly moving against yours.

whenever she got rough she would go for hours.

she'd manhandle you into whatever position she wants, fuck you stupid with her tongue or fingers or strap, leave finger-shaped bruises on your hips and thighs alongside vulgar love bites and teeth indentations to show you just how dirty she could really get. fuck, one night she couldn't get enough of the way your ass looked under her fingers and she smacked it without a second thought, then she couldn't stop until you were shaking under her touch as she fucked you roughly from behind.

now that's a woman who knows how to fuck you right.

judging by the way she was unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her fingers into your underwear she wasn't going to wait around any longer. she smiled against your mouth as you moaned into hers when two of her fingers sunk into you and slowly began moving in exactly the way she knew would make you fall apart in seconds, her stupid fucking grin making you lightheaded as she admired you cockily.

"who do you belong to?"

that's when it hit you; jessie was jealous.

she'd asked about the man at the bar and dragged you home before you had a chance to think, then fucked you against the wall without warning. you thought it was just her way of impatiently celebrating the win with chelsea!

"you, jessie. i'm yours."

"yeah? that's what i like to hear baby. c'mon get louder for me gorgeous."

she mumbled against your mouth before kissing you once more, her fingers curling into your g-spot whilst she slowed down her thrusts, adjusting her arm slightly and speeding up her fingers into to a godly pace. you looked down at her arm and saw the way her bicep was bulging out, veins trailing down to her wrist as it moved back and forth to fuck her digits into you relentlessly, the canadian chuckling when she saw you throw your head back and heard you moan out her name as loud as you possibly could just from seeing how muscular she truly was.

"feels so good jessie- you feel so good inside me baby. don't stop."

"yeah, you like that huh? feels good princess? you gonna cum for me?"

"yes- so close keep going baby please don't stop!"

you replied almost instantly, feeling jessies lips bite along your pulse point before licking a stripe up to your ear, softly biting your earlobe. her thumb moved to rub at your clit just as fast as her fingers were curling into you, arm flexing even more somehow whilst she whispered dirty nothings to you with the knowledge that dirty talk really helps you get off faster.

"you're so fuckin' sexy baby, wanna fuck you all night long. can't believe you're all mine. gonna make you cum until you can't take it anymore you hear me? gonna make you mine all over again."

"jess- i'm gonna cum- i'm-"

"go on baby, make a mess all over my fingers. you know i'll be cleaning it up later on."

your head leaned back against the wall as your mouth fell open in a silent moan, hands clawing at her shirt and biceps to leave behind scratch marks, the canadian groaning in pain as she felt your walls clench around her digits before a flood of arousal fell onto them. jessie carefully slowed down her thrusts until she knew you'd ridden out your high, pulling her fingers out of you before shoving them into your mouth without warning and moaning at the sight.

"were you jealous?"

"i just don't like people touching what's mine."

she responded instantly, knowing you'd figured out why she was being so rough ages ago. you smiled at her as she started to grow shy again with a blush coating her cheeks, taking her hand and guiding her into your shared bedroom, obviously wanting her to claim you like that again.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 1: I'LL BE YOUR PLASTIC TOY

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, suggestiveness, making out, light bullying

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i am here to ruin everyone's lives. apologies in advance

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

March, 2008

“Hey, Twigs. Wanna see something cool?”

His honeyed voice chills your spine, his breath warm right by your ear. You roll your eyes as you turn to face Satoru, grinning with all his teeth as he tugs at your wrist. 

“What is it, Satoru?” you sigh.

“You have to follow meee,” he sings, pulling you away from the table you’re setting and towards the side of the porch. It’s secluded. Private. “Bring the spoon.”

With furrowed brows, you oblige. It isn’t like you have a choice. You had followed him around like a puppy ever since you’d met him as a child. You continue to, regardless of your determination to separate yourself from him.

His favorite shadow. His little pet.

The two of you aren’t as close as you were when you were children, but it’s still impossible to refuse him when he has a request. You blame it on your mother and her professionalism. You figure you had inherited it from her. That hyper-politeness. You find that you blame the ocean blue of his eyes more often. Always sparkling. 

He walks a few feet away from you, still grinning. You blink at his tall figure. He's currently dressed in a baby blue dress shirt (sleeves rolled up, of course) and black slacks. His Sunday best for the fancy brunch at the Gojo Estate. Every April, your mother summons you to help set up, then rewards you with a plate and time to play with the other kids. She would continue her work, serving the family and their guests. You would pretend that you weren’t part of the staff.

There hadn’t been a point in you staying for the afternoon in years. Only if Satoru begged you to, and even then, he hadn’t bothered to do so since junior high.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” you huff, crossing your arms. You wipe your sweaty hands on your smock.

“I’d never let you get in trouble, you know that,” he smirks. “Now, throw the spoon at me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“I want to throw way more than a spoon at you right now.”

“Relax, Twigs. Do this for me. Please?” he pouts. You can see his bright blue eyes peeking out of his black sunglasses, framed by snow-white lashes. It was unfair how pretty he was. How easily he could persuade you. 

Sighing, you throw the spoon in his direction. It stops right in front of his face as if there’s an invisible wall. He laughs in victory when he sees your confused expression. 

“What was that?” 

“My Infinity. I’ve perfected it so that it’s automatic. Took me a lot of willpower before but now it’s as easy as breathing.”

“Congratulations,” you reply dryly. 

It was typical of Satoru to be invincible. Untouchable. It had been a quality of his since birth, now manifested into a literal power to aid him against threats. You’d been on the outskirts of such threats when you were younger, but Satoru would always spare you the details.

Watching him grow in his adolescence had been like watching a sprout bloom. It shot toward the sky exponentially until it became a tree in record time. You, meanwhile, were still a sprout. A window, they’d called it. Able to see the horrors produced by human nature but unable to do anything about it.

Your head snaps up, alert when you hear your mother yelling your name from the porch. She points a hard gaze at you, then softens it when she sees Satoru.

“Satoru-kun, do you mind if I steal her for a minute? I need some extra hands for the tamagoyaki.”

Satoru nods, expressing his courtesy to your mother in his usual charming poise. It used to work on you before, but it often irks you now. The way he dazzles people to get what he wants. You would rather die than admit it was a characteristic of his that you envied.

He tugs at your braid before you walk away.

“See you later, Twigs,” he calls after you. A playful lilt to his voice. 

“You won’t.”

Satoru has you memorized. Since the two of you were five years old, he considered you his mirror image, though you never believed him. 

Often, when he sees you now, his heart leaps the tiniest bit in his chest the same way it did when he was thirteen. He’s gotten better at ignoring it. He’s perfected the art of ignoring you ever since high school started.

He likes to indulge during times when you’re not looking. At the moment, you’re concentrated on a flower arrangement, a blush painted on your cheeks from the heat. He’d watch you do this when you were kids, too. Your face would be in a concentrated frown, tongue peeking out. Nimble fingers perfecting an ikebana arrangement. 

Sometimes he missed it. He decided long ago that it would be better if he didn’t.

You two had been inseparable since the day the Gojos' hired your mother as a maid. He remembered you hiding behind your mother’s legs, chewing on the end of one of your braids. You would stay in the guest house of the Gojo estate with your mother, and you would become Satoru’s best companion. 

Both of your mothers would arrange playdates. Satoru’s mother wanted him out of her hair. Your mother wanted to work without your constant interruptions. You were needy, an only child, but Satoru would always please you with his company. It was why you adored him.

He’d show you all his toys and teach you all the games that his extended family would show him to make you feel included. He’d have you sleep in his bed, which would go under the radar until the two of you were fourteen. It would be innocent and wholesome. Satoru would show you the stars he’d learned about and you would look at him as if he’d hung them in the sky himself. 

Satoru often reminisces about the shape of your body to this day. Sometimes, he misses it when he’s alone in his king-sized bed in the winter. Even with the heat on, there’s still something missing, and then he thinks of you.

When you were kids, you’d sleep together, legs and arms intertwined. Drool on the same pillow. Wake up to an abundance of pancakes from your mother.

You had been half a friend, half a plaything. Satoru’s counterpart. Feet kicking each other under the breakfast table. 

At age five, you’d seen the same curse together. A harmless thing, chameleon-like, with eight legs on each side. It had a nasty face, one that you had recognized from your nightmares. It had been exciting at first, knowing that you shared the same ability as your best friend. You believed that you would grow with him and become as talented as him.

But that was an exaggeration. Satoru's parents knew how isolating it would be for their son to be the strongest. Your technique never came.

Satoru acted as your protector, then. Expelled the small, vicious curses in the corners of your room like they were bugs. You’d watch him train, his body overgrowing with knobby knees as you sat on the sidelines. And while you grew up with him, you only got smaller in his periphery. Always lesser. Always weaker.

It’s the reason you’d grown apart. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

Satoru had grown into a tall, arrogant child. He treated school as a hobby and still made the highest marks, which angered you to no end. It didn’t matter to him, anyway, knowing that he’d become a company's CEO or the best jujutsu sorcerer in the world. He had his future in the palm of his hands. You were not a part of that. You weren’t even sure of a future of your own.

Sometimes he would have nightmares of you dying in his arms at the hands of a curse too big for him to control. During adolescence, he experienced many threats to his safety. He knew he couldn't live with himself. He couldn’t bear to see you endure the same. 

So, without explanation, Satoru Gojo pretended you didn’t exist. He exchanged the necessary niceties in school and when you'd come over with your mother, though he'd never ask you to stay the same way he had when you were kids. He was often occupied with new friends, anyway. Often busy working on his technique. Nothing that was your business, of course.

You resented him for it. 

Now, you’re enduring your last year of high school with him, and you are trying so badly to be good. You should aim to make good enough marks to attend a decent university on a decent scholarship. God knows you aren’t fit for the world of jujutsu sorcery. 

In a way, you’re okay with the mundanity of your life. Satoru’s absence in your heart convinced you of that. 

Satoru’s attendance at school is only an illusion of normalcy for his parents. His mother insists on it. Barely a sorcerer herself, she had wanted to give her son the option of living a normal life. With his grades and wit, she knew that he could easily be successful as a businessman or a doctor. 

Despite this, Satoru knew he would enroll in Tokyo’s Jujutsu Technical College with Suguru. He had met Suguru when he was fifteen, trying to exorcise a curse that only got snatched by a dark-haired thief, one who would end up as his best friend. 

Satoru saw Suguru as his only equal. He had no one else to relate to about jujutsu sorcery. 

Certainly not you.

But still, he was closing another year of high school, his last. Then he could be free from his parents’ restraints. It was easy for him to be the best and make the most friends. It was a shame that he’d have to leave them all behind. 

You’re a ghost in Satoru’s wake. Always near, never faltering yet never consuming too much space. As the school year progresses, he ignores you like a mosquito bite. Harmless but still itching his skin. Always reminded of your presence even when you do nothing to draw attention to yourself. 

And then there are times that you do.

“I’m sorry, sensei,” you mumble, stunned in the doorway of the classroom.

It’s a nondescript weekday in May, one that’s wet with rain, which explains your damp hair and clothes. Your appearance conjures a succession of snickers. The sound of low laughter taunting you and whispers gossiping about you.

You’re too tired for it. You don’t want to be here at all.

“I’m disappointed,” your teacher relays. “You’re usually never tardy.”

“It won’t happen again,” you muster.

You hear more whispers. It hangs on your shoulders as you sit in your seat, still and heavy as you attempt to take notes.

Should’ve worn something more sheer, than she’d get the attention she wants, huh?

Nah, not like her tits are even good enough to be seen like that.

Bet she’s hiding something from all of us. Maybe we can get her to strip in the girls’ locker room and give us a show later.

“Shut the fuck up,” a voice growls. You hear it, turning your head, and your eyes fall on Satoru’s fiery blues. 

You wonder if the feeling of his gaze searing into the back of your head is worth mentioning. It makes your face hotter, the flush of humiliation warming your neck as your peers snicker at you.

You manage to get through class without crying. Haru, a boy you were closer with in previous years, offers his sweatshirt to you as you collect your things. 

“She’s good,” Satoru interrupts as you strip off your damp sweater. Within seconds, he has you under his arm. He ushers you out the classroom door. His oversized jacket drapes over your shoulders.

“Gojo,” you hiss. “He was just being nice.”

“Or he wanted to see you in a wet t-shirt. I don’t think white was the best move for today, by the way.”

Your face heats up when you look down. You realize the extent of skin that’s visible from the sheerness of your damp white shirt. It mortifies you more when you realize that Satoru had caught it first.

“Right. Thanks,” you mumble, hiking up your bookbag tighter on your shoulder. 

“So helpless sometimes,” Satoru sighs. He shoots you a devilish smile that combats your scowling frown. “Why don’t you call me by my first name here?”

“Because we’re in school and it’s polite.”

"Twigs, are you scared of being associated with me?"

He blocks the door of your locker, leaning against it and towering over you. Satoru had always taken up as much space as possible without a care in the world. You were the opposite -– always compartmentalizing yourself to be smaller. Malleable. Amicable.

He’s too close for comfort, nearly breathing down your neck. He only moves when you kick him pathetically in the shin.

Satoru’s smile only grows bigger as you ignore him. He wonders if he could get your fuse to blow in front of him right now. This place is usually where you’re composed, regal, and expedient. One of the school’s top students. 

He knew you had an edge to you, wild as you were when he had known you as a child. But you had only grown to be responsible and sensible. He thinks that his mother would be relieved if he acted more like you.

“Coming home with me or what?” Satoru quips. The way he says it makes your stomach stir. It's an almost salacious suggestion despite its innocence. Satoru always made everything sound more exciting than it was.

“Why would I?” you raise a brow.

“My mother would like to see you. She told me she had some hand-me-downs for you to try on." You know I’d love nothing more than to see you parade around my house dressed like my mother in the 70s.” He grins in amusement.

“Okay, sure, whatever.”

“Yo, Satoru!” 

His head whips around to see one of his buddies, crowded around other jocks. Satoru is quick to leave you without so much as a goodbye. 

July, 2008

After your semester, you end up second to Satoru. It’s no surprise to you despite how much it infuriates you. You are never anything more or less. 

"Congratulations, Twigs," Satoru murmurs to you. He startles you from your thoughts. You slam your locker closed.

“Why are you still calling me that?”

“Because you’re my Twigs,” he pouts.

Yours. It’s a funny lie. Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

He pouts childishly like he always does. There’s a devilish spark in his blue eyes underneath his sunglasses, though you can barely make out his irises from his height. Satoru’s growth spurt had him at over six feet tall by the time he was sixteen. It was obvious that he’d only grow taller. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the nickname. If you were in middle school again, the notion would warm your heart. It had been a stupid nickname he’d tease you with ever since you were both ten. You had been angry at him for reasons that escaped you, climbing up the tree in the backyard of his estate as high as you could until he begged you to come down.

You wouldn’t, of course. You were always stubborn like that, and Satoru loved it. 

You were also much clumsier when you were ten, slipping your foot as you attempted to climb a different branch and falling into Satoru’s arms. It had been a miracle you didn’t break any bones, but thanks to Satoru’s freakish strength, you were unharmed. Only disheveled with leaves and twigs stuck in your frizzy hair. He had called you Twigs ever since. 

“I’m not your anything. Even if my mother is still your fucking maid.”

“Aren’t you my maid, too? My little servant?” he teases. 

You wonder if he knows how cruel it is, even if it’s a little joke.

“I’m nothing to you,” you mumble. You attempt to hold a faster stride on your walk home. Maybe you’d advance enough to leave him in the dust. You could be the best runner on the track team if you managed that.

But you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave him, couldn’t. Not a chance.

“What was that?” Satoru calls after you.

“Nothing!”

“Slow down,” he whines, running fast enough to follow your stride, much to your annoyance. Him and his stupid, long legs. His taunting smile. “Don’t you wanna come over?”

“Why would I?”

“Your mom’s probably there. And we can celebrate the end of exams.”

“I have… stuff to do,” you stammer.

“No, you don’t,” Satoru chuckles. “The semester’s over. Summer’s here, baby.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He laughs again, the sound twinkling in your ears like a beloved song. It makes your cheeks warm. You don’t want him to see it. 

Yet, he wraps his arms around you, chin nestled to your collarbone as if you were joined together. In a blink, the two of you are in his kitchen, with whiplash only an after-effect. You still hadn’t gotten used to his ability to warp.

“I hate when you do that.”

“You like it, I know you do,” Satoru taunts. “It excites you. I can tell because your cheeks get all flushed.”

“They do not!”

“Sure, they don’t, Twigs.” 

“You’re annoying,” you huff, dropping your school bag on a chair.

Satoru greets your mother with a kiss on the cheek as you follow behind him. She has tea prepared in the sitting room for you and him, along with dorayaki and matcha Swiss rolls.

“Your mom’s the fucking best,” he muses as he gobbles down a third roll. You watch him in feigned disgust. Sipping your tea, you mumble something unintelligible in agreement.

“What, you aren’t hungry?”

“No.”

“Try this.”

“I have. She’s my mom.”

“C’mon, Twigs, open up.” 

Satoru leans over the table with a Swiss roll between his fingers, waving it in front of your face. There’s no point in protesting -– he’d probably knock something over from his eagerness to annoy you. You part your lips to take a bite, and at the same time, he shoves it into your mouth.

“Satoru!” you groan.

“Stay still.”

You swallow your bite and he wipes his fingertips on the corner of your mouth. He’s close enough to feel your breath on his face, licking up the frosting on his thumb nonchalantly. He chuckles at the flustered look painting your face into a scowl.

“I’m done. I’m going to do the dishes.” 

You excuse yourself to retreat to the kitchen before you can so much as make eye contact with Satoru again. He has to be teasing you with his small touches. It’s something he would’ve done when you were twelve, yet the notion now would be different. 

The two of you were in completely different social spheres. He had separated himself from you years prior. It would be a rare sight for him to be so touchy with you in public, acting as if you were like him. 

Someone who had a big kitchen. Someone who didn’t have to think about expenses.

It’s a miracle that he leaves you alone as you clean the kitchen, washing dishes to keep your mind occupied. After you’re done, you decide to cut up a bowl of strawberries. You knew they were Satoru’s favorite. Knowing him, he’d still crave something sweet after demolishing all the desserts.

You nick yourself. A careless act — you aren’t paying attention, mistaking the sharp side of the knife for the dull one. It slices the inside of your thumb. Cursing under your breath, you hover your hand over the wound. You heal it within milliseconds without so much as a second thought.

This is when Satoru kicks at something. The wall or a potted plant, you don’t know. But it’s a plea for attention and it brings your focus to him, your head snapping up to meet his gaze and his childish pout. 

“I saw that,” he says, lowly.

You freeze under his scrutiny. You don’t say anything.

“So you’ve been lying to me.” It’s a seething accusation instead of a question.

He gets so close to you without you even noticing. He towers over you again, swallowed by the whole of his shadow, and his betrayed frown is petulant like a child’s. 

“Satoru—”

“You said you didn’t have a cursed technique.”

“I—I didn’t. Not until later—”

“When?”

Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, hands trembling. He takes a step forward, taking up more space. It reminds you of your worth. The mere fact of him belittles you in that way.

“When I was thirteen. My kitten, Aki. The stray. You remember him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“He got hit by a car one day, and I couldn’t stop sobbing. And I was holding him in my hands all bloody. And then, I brought him back to life. It just happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You search Satoru’s face. There’s a bit of betrayal in it, mostly surprise. It boils your blood in the slightest bit — because why is it so shocking that you ended up with a cursed technique? You may have hidden it from him for a few years, but was it something so unimagined for you?

You assumed that you would always be a plaything in Satoru’s eyes. Something so easy, so useless.

“It wasn’t enough,” you exasperate. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it does, Satoru. It’s so—”

Insignificant. Small compared to you.

He waits, swallowing the lump in his throat. Eyes flaring like comets.

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat. “I don’t even want to be a sorcerer, and even if I wanted to be, I could never keep up with you. I don’t see the point in pursuing this if I’m better off just studying at a normal university—”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Your technique is amazing. It’s like Shoko’s! You could’ve —”

“Satoru,” you emphasize. Your tone shuts him up, your hardened gaze, the lightning in your eyes bright and sharp. Menacing, even. You can sense the sound of him swallowing, a lump lodged in his throat loud enough for you to hear.

White lashes flutter. A frown is still displayed on his face. It’s now that he notices the slight bags under your eyes. Evidence of burden, of nights spent awake under the unforgiving moonlight.

You look at him in a way that feels damning — like you’re coaxing something from him. He knows better — knows that his anger is misplaced, that you’re right.

You having a healing technique is nothing compared to him. Even then, he knows that you probably aren’t interested in combat or the world of jujutsu sorcery in general. It doesn’t affect him so negatively. So what is he so angry about?

The question is in your eyes, pleading. He already knows the answer despite not admitting it to himself. He knows that the prospect of you having a cursed technique doesn’t mean you’re stronger than him. He assumes you wouldn’t surpass him, and wouldn’t think you to be someone who would even think about it. 

Satoru knows he’s angry because he feels very close to you. He had at least thought he was close enough with you to know about your cursed technique. It was finding out that you were hiding it from him that made him angry. Learning that you had it manifest in front of you and didn’t bother to fucking tell him about it.

He can’t voice any of these frustrations. He knows you’d yell at him, and criticize him for thinking he’s entitled to you. It’s inappropriate and unfair, but in his younger years, he often felt that he was entitled to you. He’d known you since you were so very little, so vulnerable. He had protected you from all those curses, hadn’t he? He held you in his arms in his bed for years. That had to have meant something to you. It certainly meant something to him. 

“Sorry. I just wish you told me earlier,” he says softly. 

You apologize. Meek beneath him, eyes avoiding him. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, Satoru.”

You don’t see him for a week and a half. It should be typical to you. It’s not like him to reach out or go out of his way to see you. He’d always been like that, giving you no expectations. And yet, his radio silence had crawled under your skin.

It’s stupid to expect him, anyway. There’s no reason for him to show up at yours, much more of a reason for you to show up at his, but you don’t need to. Your mother does that for her job and it has nothing to do with you.

There’s a Tuesday that’s so quiet, so plain that even the rain falters after two hours to only grant the town wet pavement. You’re curled up with a book in your living room when you hear a succession of knocks on your door. An erratic rhythm, the same as the special knock you would use with Satoru.

It’s him, of course. He smirks at you, an oversized t-shirt loose off of his lanky figure. You try not to fixate on the sweat of his exposed collarbone. You look him straight in the eyes through his pitch-black sunglasses.

He has a large bouquet in his hands. He grins at you. For the first time in a little while, you feel brave.

“Confessing your love to me this afternoon, are you?” you pester, a brow raised.

Something like that, Satoru thinks.

“You wish.” 

He walks past you, brushing your shoulders much to your annoyance. He sets the bouquet on your kitchen table in its little jar, peonies drooping despite how hard he tries to fix them.

“It’s from my mom to yours. As a thank you and a birthday wish and stuff.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “That’s very sweet of her.”

He hums in agreement, rocking his heels back and forth as his eyes roam your house. It isn’t his first time here, but he acts the part, hands buried in his pockets as he observes you like a wild animal. 

“Will that be all?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs. “What were you up to before I showed up?”

You shrug, too, attempting to mirror his nonchalance. You had long ago buried your paperback in a drawer, promising to return to it by the time Satoru left. But still, he lingers, in front of you, taking up unnecessary space in your childhood home. Too tall and too pretty.

“Just cleaning my room,” you lie. 

“Can I see it?”

“Why?”

“Been a while,” he shrugs. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, it’s a mess right now. I didn’t get very far.”

“Like I care,” Satoru chuckles. 

He stares at you for a bit, heartbeats passing the time in your head. Fuck, he’s serious. He’s already leaning towards the staircase.

“Okay.”

You’re hyper-aware of him behind you, eyes exploring the length of your body. If you had known that he would show up unannounced, you would’ve changed into one of your long dresses or a pair of jeans. At the moment, you feel too bare in your tank top and corduroy shorts. You feel like a child outgrown.

Satoru takes up as much space as usual, long limbs splayed over your tiny twin bed. You don’t permit him to sit on your bed, but he does it anyway. He looks at the pictures on your wall, takes in the sweet smell of your sheets. It’s similar to your clothes, your flesh. Your hair. He’d live in it if he could.

“How cute.” He gestures to a cat plushie by the head of your bed. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Satoru laughs. “It is cute. It’s so you.”

A certain fervor blossoms in your gut at that. The image of him stretched out on your little bed. Despite your closeness with him when you were younger, he had never spent much time at your house. It took you a few years to understand why.

“You should invite me over more often.”

“I don’t invite you over ever.”

“Well, you could start.”

“Why?” You stand by the wall, shifting your weight towards it as you lean backward. You cross your arms in defense, even though he hasn’t said anything to provoke you yet.

“It’s comfy here. I like it.”

“Thanks?”

He sings your name, beckoning you to him. You take three steps at most, holding your breath. Standing in front of his knees.

“Come sit, Twigs.”

“Told you not to call me that,” you breathe.

“Don’t care,” he grins. 

He reaches out to you, pulling you between his knees with a hand on your waist. He smirks at the sound of your gasp as he tugs at your wrist. 

“In my lap. C’mere.”

It’s difficult to refuse Satoru Gojo. His eyes drink you in, ocean blues glimmering and reflecting the afternoon sunlight. You’re still between his thighs. He tugs you without much effort, making you stumble into him. Your hands hold onto his shoulders as you settle into his lap. He holds the small of your back as you straddle him.

“Wanna try something.”

You say nothing. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his fingertips grazing your jaw.

There’s a softness against your mouth. You don’t dare open your eyes.

You sense a sharp inhale behind the lips that kiss you, but they stay. Wetting between your mouth with the slight of a tongue. Tasting sweet like honeysuckle.

You whine, opening your mouth a bit more. You swallow down divinity. It's misguided affection that you had wished for when you were so much smaller. It might mean something bigger to you now if you thought about it for longer. You don’t want to. You refuse to.

But Satoru kisses you hard, excited and eager. His tongue peeks into your mouth and you taste strawberries. Lips soft and supple and melting against yours.

He groans, fisting your hair in his hand as he deepens the kiss, falling more and more into you. He smiles against your mouth as he coaxes a small sound out of you. It crawls out of your throat for him to taste with satisfaction. He’s always dreamed of you in his lap, but he could never tell you that.

You’re breathless, weak, and melting into him as he wraps his arms around you. Caging you in so that you can’t escape. So fucking warm in his embrace. 

It takes a second for you to notice the hardness growing underneath you. It prods your center as you mindlessly grind into Satoru’s lap. When you realize, you squeak in embarrassment, and he clutches you harder.

You sigh into each other, eating the other up. Heat surges through you, from your forehead down to your core, to your weak, sensitive legs. Hot from the feeling of him in your mouth. Hot from the proximity of your core to his.

You pull away, exhaling unevenly as you try to catch your breath. You’re shy under his gaze, unwrapping yourself and covering your body as if you’re naked.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re so cute,” he chuckles. “Acting like that was your first kiss.”

“What if it was?”

He raises a brow as you look away with flushed cheeks. You’re still on his lap and he takes the opportunity to remind you of this, shifting you in his lap and causing friction. Your eyes are wide as you quickly attempt to untangle your limbs with his.

“That was your first kiss?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes at the sight of his leering smile. God, you knew this would happen. Satoru would never let you live it down.

“I’m going to kick you out—”

“No.” 

He grasps your wrist in his hand. It’s small compared to his palm, engulfing you. His other hand grips your hip firmly but softly. He only moves it to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“How was it? Tell me.”

“Good,” you breathe. “Felt good.”

For the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you have invented something new. There’s a bit of astonishment. Wonder and admiration. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. You were easily deluding yourself with the expression of his sapphire blue eyes. 

“Felt good for me, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you do that?” you ask, giggling nervously. 

“Just wanted to.”

“I want you to kiss me again,” you whisper.

“I want to do more than that,” Satoru mumbles. But he knows better. It’s the best decision for him to get you off his lap right now before he loses composure.

You both hear the sound of your front door opening as if it’s timed -- your mother. 

“I’ll kiss you later, okay?” Satoru murmurs.

“You will?”

“My parents will be gone this weekend. To Okinawa. You should come over on Saturday.”

“Okay. I will.”

[maple-the-awesome]

He's Becomes a Dad || Part 2/2

Part 1

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Sky, Wild x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. Warning: Mentions of miscarriages for Sky's section. Nothing to detailed, but it's there so beware 🙅‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's never been a surprise to you that Twilight would want kids of his own. He never even had to say it aloud, you could just read that look in his eyes whenever playing with the village children. It was a wordless yet ever so contagious request: I want this. And how were you to deny him? Just look at him!

Simply put, children were a top priority of yours almost as soon as you married. It didn't take long for you to become pregnant either (not with Twilight's fierce passion and your shared disinterest towards 'waiting'). Regardless, there were still many tears shed when you found out - all happy, of course, as your husband spun you around in his arms while you both laughed giddily in between quick kisses.

Let's get this straight: Twilight is prepared-prepared. Ordon is that type of close-knit community where everyone helps raise each other's kids, so despite this being his first rodeo as a new dad himself, he has plenty of experience taking care of youngsters. As a ranch-hand, he's also perfectly accustomed to the whole birthing process, having hand-delivered more baby goats than he can count, so don’t worry, nothing about the ‘less glamorous’ sides of pregnancy scare him. 

With that being said, Twilight doesn't stress too much aside from the normal concerns about your health, after all he recognizes that not every pregnancy is the same for every woman, but that's exactly why he makes it his personal mission to ensure your comfort. 

Feeling particularly ill? He'll make you all the tasty pumpkin soup you could ask for which, believe it or not, works wonders for an upset stomach. Just having a bad day? He'll happily let you cuddle with Wolfie to help you relax. Restless? He'll take you on a horse ride no matter the hour and if you're too far along in your pregnancy to climb onto Epona, a simple walk to Ordon's spring will do since that's the perfect spot to soak your sore body. Twilight is no above carrying you there himself if you ask.

Trust that your every worry is always smoothed; Twilight is there to reassure you no matter how 'little' the problem. Have concerns he can't speak on as a man? He'll happily go ask one of the other village women for you if you're too embarrassed to do so yourself, in fact this guy's already been talking Rusl and Uli's ears off for advice since day one. He doesn't want to leave a single thing to chance regardless of how confident he already feels which is probably why there's a stack of parenting books on his nightstand. Did he clear the shelves in Castle Town? Probably.

You're pretty sure that Twilight already had a 'go-bag' put together before the end of your first trimester, although he’d add to it like a paranoid squirrel up until your due-date. Curious, you had gone through it one day just to get a hint of how overboard he might've gone. Diapers, snacks, blankets, comfortable clothes for you, more parenting books...He does realize you're doing a home birth, right? Most of this stuff he could just grab from the cabinet if needed, but it's sweet that he's trying to be organized.

It isn’t really news to anyone that Hyrule’s heroes tend to land on the quieter side and usually Twilight isn’t much different…There’s a key word in there because you’re quite certain he hasn’t actually shut up since the second you told him you’re pregnant. He can hardly keep his excitement to himself! Oh, but it’s adorable, especially on those nights when he’ll fall asleep mumbling about his joy all while using your swollen stomach as a pillow. It makes your heart swell every time.

When you eventually go into labor, Twilight doesn’t show much outward panic if he has any at all, however he does feel incredibly terrible to watch you go through it without any relief. He feels absolutely useless while unable to take away your suffering the way a good husband should, so to make up for it, he does his utmost best to be your rock during those long hours, talking you through each painful contraction and doing everything in his power to distract you. Back rubs, walks around the house, whispers of sweet nothings…He’s by your side well into the night, keeping it up until it finally comes time to start pushing.

He definitely was not going to say it while you were going through the motions because he’d like to keep his head, but human and goat births are pretty much the same thing minus the actual cursing. He’s in his element then, knowing exactly what to do to ensure a safe delivery for mama and baby. His movements are almost automatic, trained by years of practice as he cleans the little one off before taking the time to admire them fully.

Are you shocked that Twilight is teary eyed? Not at all. Are you upset that he almost forgets about you entirely for a second because he’s so entranced by the baby? Also no, since you need a moment to catch your breath anyway. Don’t worry, though, he does eventually pass you your son reluctantly before hovering at your side with possibly the widest grin you’ve ever seen on the man since your wedding day. 

The rest of the night is calm from there on, filled with quiet whispers and cooing as you both take turns partaking in skin-to-skin contact with your baby. Will you be doing this again soon? You’re probably going to need a decent break to recover, but just know that your husband is absolutely ready whenever you are. In the meantime, expect to be showered in endless love and affection because you deserve it for the priceless gift you’ve given him.

Your relationship with Warrior has always been ‘slow moving’ if compared to most other couples’. For starters, while he may have a formidable reputation for being a supposed lady's man, all that 'skill' of his would go flying out the window whenever faced with your presence, so it took some time (and maybe a near-death experience) for any confessions to be made. In his defense, you're a very beautiful and strong woman who happened to be one of his superiors during most of the war, so please excuse him for usually being awed into silence whenever you showed even an ounce of interest in ‘lil ol’ him. His brain would literally become a windows error.

Even after Warrior did finally find the courage to ask you out, your respected jobs and heavy workloads have often forced your relationship to be put on the back-burner. Marry you? Hylia knows he’s been DYING to! You’re already wearing the ring and everything, but it's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon and he'd rather wait a few extra years to enjoy the perfect moment rather than rush the whole ‘happiest-day-of-our-lives’ thing during a bad time.

Luckily for him, you've never needed a formal certificate to know you own his heart. He proves it to you in other ways every day from cheesy love letters to overly romantic dates during your rare off time, and while you normally adore being the sole subject of his affection, that's exactly how you ended up in this very situation.

You're both adults and as such you won't pretend to be innocent: This wasn't planned in the slightest. Your jobs can be quite chaotic, as previously addressed, so you just wanted to help your husband-to-be relax and destress a bit - nothing new for either of you in itself, although that particular evening would end up weighing heavily on your mind a few weeks later.

To be honest, when you first entered Warrior's office and instructed him to sit down with a stern voice that could rival Commander Impa's, he thought you must've finally grown tired of being engaged for several years, having come to him then to demand that he marry you sooner. Agreement was right on the tip of his tongue when you delivered the bombshell that you were pregnant instead.

Your tone was serious and expression calm, but Warrior knows you well enough to spot the hidden worry in your eyes. It’s justified, of course. Had either of you even discussed having kids before? He doesn’t think so. It’s not like having a baby is a bad thing, though. The idea of creating a small family with you is a pleasant one, it’s just…happening a lot sooner than preferred. You both would’ve liked more time to plan and prepare…but oh well. What’s done is done. 

The real concern is will your jobs allow you both time off to take care of a baby? It's not like a war is currently going on, so Hyrule won't suffer too much from having two of its best captains sidelined, however what happens if that doesn't remain the case? What if war breaks out tomorrow or the day after? Warrior can’t let his pregnant fiancée fight in battles! What kind of husband and father would that make him?! But at the same time, is he just supposed to ask that you sacrifice your career in order to spare his? THAT’S NO BETTER!

...All things considered, you'd say Warrior handles the news far better than some might've. Yes, he begins to ‘slightly’ overthink things, although that's exactly why you had him sit down first. Calmly, you take his hand and tell him how things will be (your own way of offering comfort not only to him, but yourself as well). The bottom line is that if you could successfully fight Ganondorf’s army together, you can raise a child together, too. Really, how much harder can it be? You already have some minor experience being unofficial parents to little Time and Wind during the war. Just don't give your own children any magic masks or wind controlling devices and you should be golden.

Thankfully, many of Warrior’s initial fears are proven to be irrational during the earliest stages of your pregnancy. Everyone else was positively thrilled to hear the news and even Impa gave her congratulations, explaining to your fiancé’s relief that she’ll simply assign you more deskwork until it’s fit for you to return back to your normal duties. All he has to worry about in the meantime is making sure you actually take it easy; only a slightly difficult task considering your headstrong nature and insistence on not being ‘coddled’, but hey, if anyone can handle it, it’s the guy who’s hellbent on marrying your stubborn butt one day.

Warrior will admit that there were still some nights when he would nearly pull his hair out while doubting if he’s actually ready to be a dad, however the moment you officially being showing is the same moment he forgets all about any possible regrets and replaces them entirely with daydreams filled with not only his lovely wife, but also a little one who will hopefully think the absolute world of him. He already knows he’ll think of it of them.

Although you may feel a bit nervous towards the prospect of suddenly being parents, that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t choose anyone else to go through this journey with. One look to your side and you’re certain of it. The way Warrior holds his son for the first time, newborn wrapped comfortably in his scarf and dad, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion after hours of labor yet the proud smile evident on his face nevertheless…You were right before: so long as you do it together, you’ll excel in this whole ‘parenting-thing’.

You had married young - almost as soon as you were able after graduating from the Knight Academy. To everyone else on Skyloft, you have always been the picture image of an ideal couple; the hero and his beloved princess who somehow manage to be completely and utterly smitten with each other even years later. To call Sky your husband is a blessing in itself and you consider yourself lucky every single day. There’s only ever been one problem with your relationship - one single complaint you can think of where neither of you are truly responsible: your lack of children.

When you first married, there was lots of talk, after all everyone was simply dying to know when the first generation on the Surface would be born. Your parents were eager for grandchildren and Zelda, your best friend, had way too much fun teasing you over the matter by expressing her 'surprise' that Sky had yet to give you a baby despite how 'passionate' he’s always been towards you (she would make sure to use those exact words, too). 

Initially, you never minded anyone’s curiosity. It’s only natural to expect children from a newly wed couple. It's when that same couple reaches their third then sixth year of marriage without any trace of tiny feet or squealing laughter that those curious and well-meant questions grow quiet with unbearable pity, your shared excitement becoming shuttered sorrow.

At the start there was nothing to worry about. You were both young and not putting that much effort into it, so certain it wouldn't take long for your family to grow. Then the years began to pass and you would try everything the doctor recommended, but every test would still leave you as disappointed as the last. The absolutely worst form of despair came those few times you'd actually get your hopes up only to have them cruelly dashed a few months in.

What were you doing wrong? Sky would always hush your anxieties and do his utmost best to reassure you, however you knew by his own tears that your infertility hurt him just as much, especially when on those quieter nights, you'd suggest that perhaps you simply weren't meant to be parents - that the gods were just trying to tell you both something you were too stubborn to accept.

It's for that reason that you had such mixed emotions once finally able to fall pregnant again. You were optimistic deep down, however after six years of attempts and losses, you were wary to embrace too much joy right away which was shown in the way Sky held onto you for what felt like hours after you told him or how he slept each night with a hand on your stomach even in those early days, internally praying to the goddesses this would be the one.

A month passed...Then two...And three, and four…For once, you didn't feel sick aside from what was considered normal. Maybe a bit of high blood pressure the doctor kept a close eye on, but other than that he’d always tell Sky and you the same thing: they're healthy.

Even then, you’d say you remained extra cautious, not daring to eat nor do anything the doctor so much as hesitated against, however Sky was by far the worst when it came to worrying. As your husband, he considers your physical and mental well-being his personal responsibility, but as the father of your child? His work has doubled!

All chores were to be his alone so that you could rest. Any bout of sickness was closely monitored and tended to. His hand would remain on your stomach from beginning to end, although overtime it would be done less out of fear and more for the sake of bounding, often accompanied by his voice or the melody of his harp which he would happily play for you both whenever you were having a particularly difficult time falling asleep at night.

Now, you didn't dare tell anyone about your pregnancy during the first half, not wanting to deliver anymore bad news should it come, however once the remilit was out of the bag, you became the center of attention much to Sky's conflicted feelings. On one hand, you deserved it for all of your hard work growing a baby, but on the other, that overprotective dad-side of him couldn't help fretting over the vast number of harmful germs your guests could possibly be passing onto you and your unborn child. Did he make everyone wash their hands for ten minutes before visiting? Yes, yes he did.

Beyond being protective, Sky was also very emotional throughout the entire pregnancy maybe even more than you sometimes. He got teary-eyed after every doctor's appointment that confirmed the baby's development, while picking out names together, and even when you were yelling at him for something stupid because as far as he was concerned, you still looked so beautiful standing there with crossed arms and a round belly carrying his child. Oh, but none of that compared in the slightest to the tears that were shed when he actually held his daughter for the first time; that amount of waterworks could put the flood of Faron to shame!

Six years of waiting made you both lose hope. You assumed you’d never be able to have children of your own and even began to look towards other options such as adoption or simply living your lives childless forever…but the day your daughter was born was the day all your anxieties and doubts were finally put to rest. Now, as you cry happily with your husband, you can’t think of a single complaint towards your relationship; it’s officially as perfect as the precious little bundle in your arms.

Wild and you were still practically newlyweds when you gave him the 'thrilling' news. You were so happy to do so, too, barely able to bite back your excitement while watching your husband lift a small pair of baby pajamas out of a gift box. You were absolutely glowing as you eagerly awaited his reaction and all he could do was simply stare into space as his whole world came crashing down on top of him. Did he look horrified on the outside? He must've, because he swears he could’ve pinpointed the exact moment that shine in your eyes died, a frown etching its way onto your lips. What else was he supposed to do aside from fake a smile and embrace you, keeping you close to his chest so that your delight wouldn't be spoiled by his internal nervous breakdown?

Wild has zero right to be shocked. You had both been intimate (as tends to happen when you're married) not to mention you had made it perfectly clear from the start of your relationship that you would want a family one day. Judging on your eagerness towards the topic, it was never up for debate either; no kids would be a dealbreaker for you, so Wild had no choice but to quietly agree, too afraid to dare utter the truth or voice any hesitation because Hylia forbid you get the wrong idea and leave him. 

He thought it would be harmless. Some couples remain married for years before any children follow and you weren't in any big hurry, so he figured he'd have plenty of time to get his act together until the day of your dreams arrived; he didn't think it would happen during your first year of marriage! ...Now he's really dug himself into a hole it's too late to try escaping from…

He’s almost said something - a few times actually. He knows it’s only fair and that as your husband, he owes you proper communication, but each time he opens his mouth, his mind curses him with the image of your sadness. What if you think he doesn’t want this at all? What if you think he hates the baby and hates you for being pregnant? What if you concluded he must want to leave you so you decide to beat him to the punch?! 

…Okay, so Wild knows you aren’t going to just walk away. You’ve always been good at listening to his inner demons and acting as his strongest pillar of support, but that doesn’t change his fear that you might be hurt by whatever he has to say and he will not allow himself to ruin your own excitement. 

In the years that he’s known you, he can’t say he’s ever seen you quite as happy as when you found out about your baby. He knows he should match that joy, too. Most men do. Hell, Twilight practically sent a five-page essay bragging about his wife's first pregnancy. Truth be told, Wild actually does feel happy. On his better days, he feels that flicker of pride and a hint of eagerness because a family with you honestly sounds wonderful. The problem is, in his mind, it isn't a question as to what he wants, but rather what he deserves. 

So much has gone wrong in his past. It doesn’t matter how much you or anyone else assures him otherwise, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he failed Hyrule. He still suffers from so many nightmares and waves of guilt that he can’t properly put into words. You’re still having to shake him out of dazes and smooth his following sobs…How is he going to be a good dad and be there for his child when he can barely stand upon his own two feet like this?

Initially, Wild thought these feelings would go away; that’s why he never spoke them to you. He wanted so desperately to believe they wouldn’t linger, especially after you both got married. He lives in a peaceful world, has a nice home in a quiet village, a beautiful wife who adores him…He should’ve been able to move on from the Calamity already, so why hasn’t he? On his worst nights, it makes him wonder if he’ll ever be okay or if he’s just screwed you and the baby over by tying you both down to him.

These two sides of him - the hopeful and the pitiful - continue to battle for dominance inside Wild’s head throughout each step. Sometimes he’s genuinely smiling with you as you pick out baby names. Other times he’s sitting outside alone trying his damn hardest to remember any piece of his past that might make him feel at least a little better about his luck towards being a dad, preferably a time when he was actually good with kids or even had a family before. 

Wild’s internal dilemma comes to a head one fateful night when he’s awoken to the baby’s distressing cries. He had honestly already been awake after a mild case of anxiety, but you on the other hand are tired, worn from nine long months of pregnancy and the early days of active motherhood. The last thing he wants is for you to lose out on precious rest (a rare gift these days), so leaping out of bed, he’s quick to reach the baby’s crib.

Unfortunately, Wild’s natural instincts seem to basically stop right there at the crib’s side. Hands hovering above, he tries his best to calm his daughter through whispered assurances and attempts at cooing the same way he’s seen you do. When that doesn’t work, he awkwardly picks her up, cuddling her close to his chest while quietly pleading at this point. Is she hungry? Does she need a diaper change? Did she have a nightmare? Whatever it is, if you wake up, you’ll take over and he’ll be left to stand aside feeling like he can’t even do the basic task of comforting his own child and -

- To his astonishment, his efforts actually work. It really must’ve been as simple as a nightmare because slowly, the baby falls silent, seemingly forgetting all about her troubles as she finds solace gazing up at her daddy with the widest blue eyes and a stuck-out tongue that can’t seem to keep itself in her mouth. It looks rather goofy, so Wild can’t help but chuckle, although the sound is soft as his heart melts under the attention she holds towards him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s almost like she’s looking at her entire world…

Maybe some would say this moment isn’t necessarily anything special, but for Wild, it’s everything. As if suddenly a pro, he’s able to rock the little beauty gently back to sleep, his pleas turning into words of admiration as he tucks her into bed. There, he continues to keep watch over her until he feels tired himself, all the while thinking: he might be broken from years of trauma, and he might not be the best husband or parent out there because of it, but that's not going to stop him from doing everything in power to be there for his princesses.

[oftidheard]

o my days im on my knees pls do a part two of ur recent coriolanus fic (the one he chose to take the punishment instead of her) 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

so happy to hear people enjoyed it enough to want more ♡ this is a part two to burn me twice and the blame walks for you

you thought it'd be nice to hold the ice i can't see coriolanus snow x reader ↳ 2.4k ↳ angst with a happy? ending ↳ feminine

that night — per coriolanus's instruction — you'd pulled yourself together enough to slip through crowds with an inconspicuous politeness, and made your way home.

he hadn't joined you like he usually did, and instead parted from you in that very hallway outside heavensbee hall. he didn't have to utter a word for you to recognise the calculated look in his eyes and clenched jaw; he had a plan.

so you'd said your goodbyes, and felt his gaze follow you until you were out of sight, but onwards still felt that protective aura he'd built up around you — as if on your cold walk home, he was still there to keep you safe.

from the second your hand had been dropped from coriolanus's, to the moment you'd crossed the threshold to your lavish bedroom, it had all been a mist. you'd received congratulations from some classmates, and bitter glares from others, but they'd all blurred together — just as your quick feet hitting the pavement had rushed so quickly, that when your body finally landed atop your neatly set bed, your head still span.

everything had felt light, like the only things stopping you from simply floating away were the roof above your head and your unbreakable anchor to your boyfriend — wherever he was, whatever he was doing now.

when you'd come down from the dissociated thump in your head clouding behind your eyes, you'd found yourself sat at your windowsill.

your gaze then met the ball of soft light rising in the sky, eyes following the moon as she grew brighter, as she welcomed her night-time kingdom — and you, her subject.

you don't remember if it comforted you — staring up at the fixture of the sky, the objectively serene picture something one might guess to be the calmest thing you could ever find — but you remember pretending coriolanus might be watching the moon too, likewise hoping you to be okay just as you did for him; so that was, perhaps, what kept you going.

but at the very least, you don't remember hanging on for dear life and grasping for empty gasps as you'd fallen asleep.

petty theft gets you hung in the districts — the fact played on repeat in your tired head; you didn't want to even think about what sort of noose would await you for disrespecting the capitol's prestigious games — so you tried to trick yourself into dreaming of a picnic with your boyfriend.

the moon — ever kind — had lulled you to slumber, and granted you a dreamless sleep, momentarily letting you forget the ruin your life would face come morning.

now you've awoken, you can feel where the opaque glue has been piped between your shattered pieces; all in a fragile attempt to keep you together. the shards of yesterday's breakage prick at your sore neck and constrict the beating of your heart, flashes of last night's emotions stabbing you relentlessly.

it feels surreal, knowing at the end of it all, you still have to return to the academy today for what would be — if it weren't for dean highbottom and what he shouldn't know — an entirely regular school day; a disconcerting departure from the chaos of recent that had dug itself a burrow in your life and started to feel like your new norm.

but it isn't, and you're a distinguished young woman who needs to gratefully embrace her education, and you cannot return as a role model for future mentors with tear-stained cheeks and yesterday's mussed uniform. so you shakily rise from your curled up position by the still opened window, and clean yourself up as best you can with trembling hands spurred on by unsteady breaths.

the wind whips at you the entire walk to the academy, and you hope it's strong enough to wash away any semblance of the broken girl you'd caught a glimpse of in the mirror just before departing — and you think, if that requires the ice-cold breeze knocking you over with such a force that each and every shard of you falls apart into disrepair; you'd let it happen.

but as your feet drag you to your destination you are not granted the reprieve of irreversibly breaking; you are simply torn, and it hurts so much worse.

your shoes scuff the path, and the rips deep inside you that make the walk laborious are invisible to the outside world. your lips upturn when you pass a neighbour, but your smile is dampened just enough that they would notice just how unconvincing it is if you weren't set in motion, and already gone down the street.

you are in disarray, you are fraying at the edges that have been caressed by fire. your fingertips are singed by the very items that saved you, and the smoke of the flames that bit you back draws your breaths heavy.

you try to breathe through it, and keep your head high enough that no one wonders why you look so miserable, but low enough that eyes lamenting your arrogance after just one win don't follow you.

embers climb up your legs and sting your skin. they leave a path of flickering — slowing fading out — scraps of coal behind you, digging your heavy footsteps deep into the path so everyone knows where you are to mock and gawk at.

the sharp heat grows, reaching higher and higher until your legs wobble from the stress and the heat wraps around you, all to desperately grasp at the tip of your fingers.

a prick, like a needle — on the tip of the same fingers that had passed lucy gray her means to win, and a painful spark grows not too dissimilar to the odd shock followed by heat you'd felt when those same fingertips had brushed against her own.

the spark doesn't light the rest of you on fire, but rather runs through vein and bone, travelling through your body so overwhelmed and ready to crumble you down.

it runs up your spine, it reminds you that your time perhaps even in the capitol itself is running out, and you hope that perhaps if the spark is finally set alight in the centre of your skull that it might shrivel nerve endings and pain receptors, until it won't hurt to soon hear your life is over.

you feel the reprieve running up your neck joined by a tear down your cheek, but just as the fire is about to swallow you whole — for better, you'd hoped, but more than certainly for worse no matter whether you realise that — its force is snuffed.

the tear — your first of the day, salty water only just thawed from the numbness that had frozen in your heart over the cold night — that had just escaped your eye, crystalises.

the sudden change surrounds you, you are doused with a bucket of freezing cold water and shoved into an existence where the warm colours of the word that had just been swallowed by licks of flames and swift heartbeats are stripped away.

now, that all is quelled, and you find yourself — at the foot of the steps to the academy — in a dim world you'd glimpsed in the company of the moon just last night. and yet, this one feels even heavier.

you glance around, and with every figure your eyes glaze over, there is an unfathomable solemness that not even the death of the ring twins had evoked over the entire student body.

you feel a terror — for your life, for coryo's life — but it feels out of place in this collective sadness, in this community where you are left out of the know; it makes you feel like everyone else also knows that you do not fit into whatever this is.

your feet fly up the pristine steps with urgency, as if at the top you might face a place to hide away, and not the inevitable doubled population of unusually unsmiling students.

you gasp when — while the sight of the large imposing doors of the academy come into view — you also catch sight of the one person you've wanted to see more than anything since the moment you were separated; coriolanus.

he stands facing you, presumably in conversation with io jasper — whose back is in turn turned to you — but when his gaze catches yours, he swiftly ends the interaction, and is quick to approach you.

his strides are steady and reach you in the matter of a couple of seconds — a contrast to your trembling steps, which may well serve as a rather accurate representation of your relationship — and his hands don't hesitate to find your shoulders with a secure grip.

your eyes dart side-to-side — as if looking for any onlookers which you are so certain must be watching your every breath — and after your search, you still can't bring them to settle assuredly on coriolanus's own as you anxiously whisper.

"what's going on?"

all you receive is a stony expression, but which precedes one hand dropping to hold your wrist and the other rising to hold the back of your neck; both of which gently tug you closer to him.

"everyone's staring," you sputter in a marginally quieter whisper than before, "i don't—"

he shushes you, a finger on the back of your neck begins to trace calming circles, and his hand on your wrist tightens slightly.

"breathe," he instructs, so you try.

the breath is unreliable and you don't feel any more better than before the air had rushed into your lips, but coriolanus demonstrates himself taking several deep breaths to encourage yourself to continue trying.

slowly, the colours a well-adjusted and perfectly calm girl might observe at her place of education squeeze in on the edges of your vision, and with coriolanus pulling you even closer to him — his every breath now blowing across your cheek — you start to feel calmer.

he raises an eyebrow to ask if you're better, and you — however hesitantly — nod.

with another unconvinced but digressing once-over, one hand leaves your neck and the other slips up to now link your arm with his.

your legs don't feel like they might suddenly fall out from beneath you anymore, and you find yourself falling into step with coriolanus's own headed towards the doors without much struggle.

he easily glides you through the crowds, and you begin to feel uneasy once more at the harrowingly uncharacteristic silence that envelops the foyer.

you lean towards coryo with a stuttered whisper, "what about—" dean highbottom, "won't he—"

you're tugged closer again, with another "breathe" whispered into your ear, just as you join a specific group of your classmates; who all appear to be in different levels of melancholy.

festus creed turns around and makes room — standing to your left — for yourself and coriolanus to join the group, and while he doesn't look particularly distraught, he appears the most emotionally affected of the group.

lysistrata vickers stands directly in front of you with a respectfully plain expression, though she offers you a kind, but oddly still sad smile in greeting. though it serves only to scare you into overthinking — does she know? do they all know?

coriolanus's has unlinked your arms, and now holds your hand. breath.

to lysistrata's right, stands persephone price, with the most seemingly unaffected disposition of the group.

feeling like a fish out of water slowly asphyxiating, you glance to your boyfriend, and note his stony expression has grown to make room for a hint of something similar to the others' sombre looks.

hopelessly, your eyes flicker back to lysistrata — the person who you'd say is next on your list of people you trust here, even if there's still a large blank gap between her name and coriolanus's — and she only gives you a pitiful look that says 'i understand'.

but she can't, and you don't either, and you find yourself in the unlikely situation of being grateful for persephone talking to you unprompted.

"didn't you hear?" she gives a small raise of her eyebrows.

your frown, and your evident confusion is enough of an answer itself.

just as persephone's lips pop open again, coriolanus's hand anticipatorily squeezes yours.

"dean highbottom died."

you're tossed like a ragdoll in an echoing bubble of numbness.

persephone predictably prattles on, "it's no surprise he drank himself to death," but her words continue to grow less and less coherent to you, before she utters, "i mean, that flask he..." and your brain completely silences her to join as just another buzz in the fuzziness that constricts you.

your eyes must glaze, your mouth must be agape, you must have gone slick with sweat and started all but shivering — because the one new feeling you register, is a hand that can't be coryo's holding yours tenderly.

you want to hold it back — if your own weren't so weak that you're sure you can't even pick up a pencil — if only to reach for that anchor.

but as your fingers graze pathetically, coryo's hand that still keeps hold of your other, compresses. the force is overwhelming, and he must be squeezing your hand to limpness; but above the instinctual alarm going off in your head at circulation loss, you know why he's doing this.

he's grounding you, forcing you to concentrate on something physical, something strong.

though he's always gotten mixed results when he attempts this — some days it succesfully draws you back in, some tries it causes you to panic, and sometimes even faint with a light head and racing heart — but you try to slow your breathing, and convince yourself that it's helping.

a thumb rubbing across your pulse-point on your wrist joins coriolanus's death grip, and it's almost like a pinch that wakes you from a nightmare.

as your blurry eyes focus back in on a reality that is not in fact a dark bubble of nothingness, you realise your other hand is held by lysistrata.

once she notices your slow descent from fright, she gives you a sympathetic smile, and lets go.

finally, you look to persephone with a breathless reply to the news.

"that's horrible."

she glances around the room, then shrugs — shoulders weightless with the freedom of not knowing how it felt for dean highbottom to have held your fate atop his, the lightness of having the only thing that haunts her past being a failure, instead of a secret that could kill.

which now, you dare to dream, might not even be a threat to you anymore.

she dismisses, "i suppose so, but he wasn't exactly a model citizen," and casually changes the subject to the upcoming academic year.

coriolanus's thumb still runs over your wrist, and you can't tell if with the dean's threats all but inconsequential now, you may finally take a breath of fresh air — or if this signifies the last time you ever will.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Sweet as Honey(moon)

A/N: Okayyy let’s escape away to Greece for some sexin, shall we? Just as a reminder these are all part of my little SHAPE OF YOU AU

The Prompt: The Honeymoon 😈

Requested by: loveliest of lovelies @dawnsutopia

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Word Count: 9.4k (back to my self-indulgent waysss)

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Rated Tre Explicit, Minors DNI

CW/TW: This is a...how you say...a fook-est? I mean our couple is on their honeymoon after all. We have fingering (f receiving), indecent things with Marc’s wedding bad, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v sex, anal sex, pool sex, nipple play, lingerie, the boys being co-conscious during sex, dirty talk, spanking, nipple play, a brief mention of “dumbification” (which this fandom taught me about btw so 😳), light spanking, mucho aftercare, teasing, exhibitionism though it’s not specified if anyone sees or hears them, squirting, multiple orgasms, and fluff!

“On behalf of all of us, welcome to Mykonos,” the polite-to-a-fault receptionist said as he activated your keycards, “and congratulations on your nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Spector.” 

You grinned so widely at the use of your new surname your face could split in half. Despite a turbulent four hour flight from London and being hungover as shit, you were deliriously happy, leaning into Marc’s side —your husband’s side— while you checked into the resort where you’d be spending the next ten days on your honeymoon. 

You two had kept the wedding on the smaller side. The ceremony itself had been incredibly private and intimate, just you, your boys, your parents and a trusted rabbi at a local synagogue. This was so that you could exchange vows with Marc, Steven and Jake each individually. Afterwards, you’d booked the Gallery Room at the ever-so-posh Bluebird in Chelsea to host a reception for forty friends and extended family. 

The more subdued – though still somehow overwhelming to plan – wedding meant that you and your husband could splash out on the honeymoon, which is exactly what you’d done with the resort you’d booked here in Greece. The stunning beauty of the island didn’t hit you until you were being escorted to your room and could take in the stark white walls, ancient stone, clear blue sky, and even clearer, bluer water for yourself. 

Your suite echoed the landscape, eschewing any color or even decor on the walls for crisp white plaster and massive windows that framed picturesque views of the ocean. Everything from the furniture to the linens were warm neutrals and earth hewn materials. The focal point of the space was no doubt the sliders flung wide open led to an ample balcony that boasted a plush daybed and a small private pool. It was a dream come to life as far as you were concerned. 

The bellboy unloaded your luggage and after he left with a tip, you and Marc launched yourself at each other. He tackled you back onto the large plush bed. 

“This is insane,” you managed to pant in between kisses, “it’s even more beautiful here than I thought it’d be.” 

“Good,” Marc grunted, stripping out of his t-shirt and swiftly moving to discard his joggers as well. He was getting right to it then. 

Last night seemed to whiz by in a blur of laughter, alcohol, dancing, and toasts to the happy couple. Unlike the romance novels you’d read as an adolescent, your wedding night was not the raucous night of passion that had graced the pages you’d secretly devoured. You and your husband were exhausted. Though between the three of them, Jake was able to get it up and indulge in some soft, sleepy, tipsy sex in missionary before the pair of you conked out. 

It felt as if you’d only closed your eyes for a few minutes when the car service woke you with their courtesy call to inform you that they were outside, and you both napped on the plane. Now however, it seemed that Marc was rearing to go. 

He rid you of the tacky, but incredibly comfy, bride-themed matching sweats your uni friends had gotten for your hen do as a gag gift and you couldn’t help but giggle while you rolled around together on top of the bed. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Spector,” you echoed breathily while Marc nibbled on your ear, grinding his already rock hard erection into your bare leg. 

“Has a nice to ring it,” he murmured. Layla hadn’t taken his name when they had wed. It didn’t bother Marc, more and more women were choosing not to, and she had her own reasons for keeping her maiden name. But the fact that you’d wanted to, that you were happy to become a Spector despite all the baggage that name held, made Marc’s heart soar.

“Mmmmhmm,” you agreed. “A good thing since we’ll be using it for quite a while.” 

“Forever,” your husband specified, parting your folds with his fingers. 

Your eyes were drawn to the platinum band that now encircled his left ring finger. “Forever.” 

Marc caught you watching him and a wicked idea formed in his mind. Steven raised the concern if it was sanitary, yet Jake quickly overruled him and told Marc to do it anyway. Those two truly felt like the trope of the devil and angel on his shoulder sometimes. 

Instead of easing his index or middle finger inside of you to begin prepping you for his dick, Marc penetrated you with his ring finger. You gasped at the audacious move, letting out a little yelp when you felt the precious metal of the ring breach your entrance, warm from Marc’s skin but still cooler than the heat of your cunt. 

Marc’s dark eyes gazed up at you from those ridiculously long eyelashes of his. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” came your breathless reply. The both of you stared mesmerized as his finger plunged in and out of your pussy, enthralled with how Marc’s wedding band would disappear and re-emerge from your cunt. 

Soon your sounds indicated to Marc that you needed more, and he was all too happy to comply. His middle finger joined the other digit, making sure you were stretched enough to take his cock, which currently was so hard he likely could cut glass at this point. 

Your husband tugged on your hips, positioning your bum on the edge of bed to lock your legs around him. He took his cock in hand and entered you in a smooth shove of his pelvis. You both moaned at the feeling of becoming one, as if it had been weeks since you’d been together like this and not a matter of hours. 

Marc was eager, you could tell from the way he jackrabbited his hips into you. It was the kind of rough fucking that emptied your mind of everything but the stretch of your tight channel around his considerable girth. You were all too happy to succumb to it, you were in Greece, the wedding was over, and all of your responsibilities were thousands of miles away in London. 

His hand found your clit quickly and rubbed the bud with harsh strokes. You gasped and dug your heels into the bottom of his back to pull him closer. 

“Not going to last long,” Marc revealed while he hammered you, “wanted you since we woke up.”

“That’s okay honey,” you soothed him. After all, you’d gotten some last night. A little shiver ran through through you when you realized this was the first time you and Marc were having sex a married couple. Marc Spector, the man who was so convinced he was unworthy of happiness and did everything he could to push you away, was now making love to you on your honeymoon. 

He dropped down lower, his hands covering your breasts, which sent another, more prominent shiver through you as Marc chased his release. The movement of his hips switched, his thrusts became grinds, which allowed your clit to receive some stimulation too.

You studied Marc’s face fondly, enjoying the view of his Adam's apple as it bobbed, the short black hair that was beginning to curl from the sweat gathering at his hairline, and of course, that face, so handsome and contorted in pleasure, only made more beautiful when he spurted his hot seed inside of you. 

After he came down, Marc fell onto his forearms to nuzzle your face with his. 

“Hi,” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and squirmed at the attention. 

He gently took his cock from your pussy, then knelt before your slit at the side of the bed. 

“Hun…”

Marc knew that tone of voice of yours, it was the inflection you used when you told him “not to worry about it”. He cursed all the men that’d allowed you to think that your pleasure wasn’t as, if not more important, than his. Marc bit the inside of your thigh playfully to stop you. “Hey, I’m fulfilling my husbandly duties here, okay?”

You surrendered with a shy little grin. He knew tossing a reference to your newly minted marriage would end your protests. Marc got to work, licking a stripe up your folds to taste the two of you before sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you to stimulate your g-spot. Whines and shaking legs soon followed as you came on Marc’s thick digits. 

Before he could rise fully to grab a cloth for you, you grabbed his wrist and sucked his ring finger into your warm, wet mouth, fellating the band with your tongue. Its metallic taste was new to you and honestly, rather unpleasant, but the way Marc looked at you while you did it was well worth it. 

“Fuck baby,” he groaned once you released him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, “I really pounced on you just now, didn’t I?”

You sat up too. “No complaints here.” 

Marc drew you up to standing to kiss you and the both of you tended to yourselves in the bathroom. You took turns relieving yourselves and Marc splashed water on his face. You emerged from the little stall for the toilet with a request. “We should cool off in the pool.”

Your husband cocked a brow. “Bathing suits optional, I’m assuming?” 

“What’s the point of having a private pool if you’re not going to skinny dip?” 

“And people think I only married you for your beauty,” he joked. 

This had to be heaven, you concluded. You and Marc floated in the pool together for a little while, both made speechless by the beauty of the Aegean before you, then toweled off and dozed in the shade together on the daybed. 

When you roused, you automatically pecked the dip that ran between your husband’s pecs, just under his chain with the star of David. When your eyes met, you could tell by the softness in them and the little quirk of his lips that it was Steven gazing back at you. 

“Well hello Mrs. Grant,” he murmured. Though technically on paper you’d taken the surname Spector, you planned to use Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lockley respectively when the other boys fronted. 

“Hello yourself Doctor Grant,” you beamed back. “Happy honeymoon.”

“Happy honeymoon indeed,” he concurred, “This is the ideal way to wake up, I think…naked, you in my arms, and with ocean views.” 

“I can’t help but agree. Come back in the pool with me.” 

Steven followed you, both of you luxuriating in the cooling water. Even though it was pretty big for an in-room pool, you two refused to spread out. Steven held you into his arms once again, so close to one another you could distinguish each and every droplet of water that clung to his neck, collarbones, and face. 

Your lips drifted together in a liplock that quickly escalated and deepened. Steven’s large hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze, lifting you to walk to the edge of the pool. He parted your legs while you procured a towel to sit on. 

You continued to trade deep, passionate kisses while Steven stood still half-submerged in the water between your thighs, the sun warming your skin as you got lost in each other. His lips drifted down to your neck and clavicle, and his fingers found your core. He began with gentle touches and strokes between your folds, inserting a finger to feel your wetness and the remnants of his alter’s cum. 

“Baby,” you gasped when his thumb pressed into your clit. 

“What do you want, darling?” He rasped. 

“Your mouth,” you told him without hesitation, “then fuck me Steven.” 

He deferred, musing as he descended to your cunt, “We do have to consummate our marriage after all.”

Your clever response was eclipsed by a whimper when Steven began to eat you out. Still sensitive from your lovemaking with Marc from earlier, each lick and swirl of Steven’s tongue had you feeling like a live wire. His mouth had you just on the other side of too much, your husband working his signature magic on your twitching cunt while you leant back on your hands. 

“You taste so good,” Steven panted as he briefly pulled away for air. “Could eat this pussy forever Mrs. Grant.” 

“Please do,” you exhaled, only half-joking. 

He chuckled lowly, returning to your core, his tongue dancing on your clit and pushing into your hole. His nose was pressed perfectly into clit while he tongue-fucked you, so perfectly that you found your orgasm blindsiding you, suddenly snapping in your groin and flooding you with bliss.

When your eyelids at last fluttered open, your climax subsided, Steven gazed at you with adoration. “You’re so bloody gorgeous.” 

There was nowhere to hide your blush given that you were stark naked sitting on the poolside tile. “You’re so bloody good at that. Let me take care of you, I bet that big dick is just aching for me, isn’t it?”  

Steven agreed by pulling you back in the water, hooking his elbows into the bends of your knees and pressing your back into the wall of the pool. You took a hold of his erection, velvet-covered steel in your hand, and guided your husband inside of you below the water’s surface. Steven groaned when he entered you, and scooted you up the length of the wall so your back arched against the side of the pool. Your head rested on the towel, the position exposing your breasts to the warm air, allowing Steven to tongue your nipples as he pushed inside of you. 

The way Steven made love to you couldn’t be more different than how Marc had. Steven was slow, languid, and worshipful feeding his member into your cunt. Even though he was splitting you apart on his fat cock and filled his mouth with your tits, it didn’t feel like you could get close enough. You dug your fingertips, still sporting your wedding manicure, into the tile on either side of your bodies in an attempt to anchor yourself. The universe shrank to just you and your husband, the feel of him — so hot and hard inside of you — and the small rectangle of water you were fucking in. 

Steven angled his hips so the head of cock could brush against your g-spot and rub his pelvis against your clit. The combination was devastating but he entreated you, “Go on, love, can you give me one more? Know you can do it….wanna see your pretty face while you come.” 

You’d had three orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but Steven was ruthless in the most tender way possible, cooing into your ear and coaxing yet another release from your quaking, over-stimulated body. The spasming of your pussy around him resulted in his hips picking up pace and frantically suckling on a nipple while his climax crashed over him. 

“Wow,” he marveled after you separated. 

“That about sums it up,” you giggled, dunking under the water to re-wet your hair, “and to think we have ten days just for us.” 

***

The pair of you eventually did unpack and leave your room. You’d never had so much space in your suitcase before, since the majority of what you’d brought were swimsuits, skimpy lingerie and a few sundresses for meals and sightseeing. 

You put what you packed to use the next evening when you and your husband went to dinner in town. The night began in a breezy, white satin slip dress. Jake held your hand as you two strolled back to the resort, both of you giddy, inebriated from the wine at dinner and each other’s presence. 

Jake began humming some Spanish song you didn’t recognize, twirling you and pulling you under his arm as you navigated the uneven but mostly empty streets of the neighborhood. Marc and Steven were shy about it, but they had a great voice, and you soaked up every moment Jake would sing with unfettered delight. 

He ducked down to kiss you, whispering “Eres mi reina” when you broke apart. 

“Te amo,” you sighed back. 

Jake re-captured your lips, and next thing you knew, your back was against the side of a building as he attacked your mouth. It took a Herculean amount of self-control to withdraw your lips from his, but you had to or else you’d start fucking in the middle of the street. While you two shared a fondness for a bit of exhibitionism, that wasn’t exactly the vibe you were trying to achieve on your honeymoon. “Papi, let’s go inside.”

Your husband ignored you, his hands creeping down to your ass and kissing below your ear. 

“I’ll make it worth your while…”

That got his attention. Dark eyes glittered in the street lamplight as they searched yours.  “How?” 

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” you teased. 

From there on, Jake followed you back to your suite like a puppy. Once you’d returned to the privacy of your room, you pushed Jake back on the bed and ordered him to wait, then disappeared into the bathroom to change out of the dress and into a white bustier and panty set that managed to be lacy, sheer, strappy and somewhat tasteful all at once. 

You remerged and Jake instantly muttered a “Joder” at the sight of you. 

You did a little spin for him to get the full view. “Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda?”

“No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy,” he corrected you in a growl. “Ven aquí.”

“Come get me,” you challenged him. 

Jake leapt to his feet and chased you around the suite. You evaded him in a fit of giggles, but you were no match for your ex-military, ex-superhero husband. He circled his arms around your waist, lifted you from the ground, and tossed you onto the bed in one swift move. 

“Naughty,” he rumbled, caging you between his meaty thighs and while he rid himself of his shirt, then moved to unbutton and unzip his linen trousers to free his raging erection. Once he’d taken them off, plus palmed himself to take some of the edge off, he began exploring your body with his hands. 

“This is too pretty to rip off of you,” he mused, tracing the waistband of your tiny thong. But Marc’s voice had said it. 

“Oh, hi babe,” you greeted him, a little startled. 

He kissed you hello, grinding against your cloth-covered core, “Hi baby.” 

As much as you enjoyed the feel of his length against your soaked panties, you had to ask, “Everything ok with Jake?” 

“Yeah, we just thought we’d maybe try being co-conscious tonight, if that’s ok? Be a little more fast and loose with the switches?” 

Now there was an idea. In the past, one of the boys may have fronted momentarily while you were intimate with another, you’d never had sex with them fully co-conscious, to your knowledge at least.

“Okay,” you consented. “Just don’t get cross with me if I accidentally call someone by the wrong name.” 

Marc fixed you with a warm, lopsided smile, “We’ll take it easy on you…to start.” 

“Good,” you pulled him into another kiss. When you two broke apart, Steven was grinning down at you. 

“Now this is just darling,” he mused, tugging the cups of your bustier down to free your breasts. He wasted no time attaching his skilled mouth to your left nipple to lavish his attention on your sensitive peak.

You mewled, eyes screwed shut, and your hand shot down to Steven’s boxer-briefs to grope him through the fabric. 

Steven switched nipples with a rumble in his chest and once you were face to face again, Jake asked you “Will you suck Papi’s cock in your pretty outfit?” 

“Por supuesto Papi.”

You flipped over, reorienting yourselves so Jake was on his back and you were straddling his legs. You discarded his boxers and did your best to make a show of lapping at his tip, mouthing at the head and using your tongue to play with it. 

“Joder si, nena,” Jake heaved, trying to keep from bucking into your mouth without warning. “Just like that.” 

You worked your mouth down on his length, and you spotted who you thought was Steven craning his neck to watch you swallow his dick down your throat with your tits still out. “Bloody hell.”

You chuckled around his erection, the vibrations sending a shiver through Steven’s spine. Or wait, was that a Marc sound? 

“Don’t stop,” Jake urged you. You obeyed happily, licking the circumference of his cock to wet it, then wrapping your palm around the appendage to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth while you went to town on him. 

You could tell your boys were close by the way their right leg twitched, but before could take them into the home stretch, a hand pulled you off their cock by your hair. 

“Jake doesn’t get to come just like that,” Marc growled, wrapping his own hand around the base of his manhood to stave off his orgasm. 

“Fuck you,” Jake vollied quickly before Marc reclaimed the body and eased with you a kiss. “Hands and knees, baby.” 

You obeyed, wiggling your ass a bit for effect, and whimpered when you felt a palm slap across your right cheek. That was Jake for sure. The drenched crotch of your thong was pushed to the side, then you felt the head of your husband’s cock circle your soaking entrance a few times before it began to breach you, which was a Steven move. 

Your husband set a steady pace and confirmed your guess as to who was fronting when Steven raved, “Oh, I see why they like this position…such a lovely view.” 

“It’s good isn’t it?” Marc chimed in, increasing the pace of his thrusts some. “First time I fucked you we did it like this, remember baby?” 

“Ye-uh…uh-huh,” you could barely formulate words at this point. The idea of your husbands teaming up to fuck you in a slutty little matching lingerie set was melting your brain. 

“She takes it so well,” Jake added. His hand pressed in between your shoulder blades and you yielded so that your face and chest were resting on the bed, ass higher in the air. 

“Ugh that’s it,” Marc groaned, landing another slap across your rear. 

“Doing so well for us, love,” he praised. It was Steven obviously. “You alright?” 

You stuttered out a “yes” and began pushing your hips back against his groin as much as you could to drive your point home. 

When Jake said “Hmmm, si nena, let us feel that little cunt clench around our cock,” you couldn’t resist anymore, you had to touch yourself. 

Jake spotted it right away and spanked you again, “Did I say you could play yourself?”

“Por favor Papi,” you begged. You were beyond dignity at this point, all you could think about was coming. “I need it.”

“Let her Jake,” Steven argued, rubbing the imprint his alter’s hand left to soothe your skin, “she got all dressed up for us.” 

“Plus it’s hot as fuck to watch her work her little bud,” Marc pointed out. 

“Bien, bien,” Jake let it go. 

“Who do you want to make you come?” Steven asked, his hips never faltering as he continued to impale you with the fat member you craved.  

“I…um…uh…”

“Aw look Steven, we made her all cockdumb,” Marc cooed at you. 

Your current position prevented you from sending a dirty look at your husband. He wasn’t exactly wrong though.  

“I got her,” Jake volunteered. A moment later, a wet thumb circled your asshole and edged ever so slightly in. The extra stimulation, combined with your fingers frantically rubbing your clit, caused you to come with a high whine. You bore down on your husband’s big dick as the pleasure wracked you, so profound it was almost painful. 

Your husband held your hips steady as you drifted down from your orgasm and he sought his own release. You reflexively tightened around his spent cock when you felt the ribbons of his seed empty inside of you. 

You rolled over, lying on the bed sideways to look at them. Marc gazed back at you, examining your face with concern to make sure they hadn’t gone too hard on you, you presumed. Speech hadn’t returned to you just yet, so you sent him a toothy, satisfied smile instead. 

“You okay baby?” He asked. You nodded, allowing him to slide off your panties. 

Steven cut in quickly to follow up, “You need anything for your bum?” 

“I think I’m okay, hun, but thank you,” you assured him. He turned you around to take off your bustier for you as well. 

“‘Course,” he replied instantly, slowly standing to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and wipe his cum off of you. “They got a little carried away at the end there.” 

“Did not” you heard Jake snipe back.  

They reappeared with Marc’s stern expression on their features. “You sure you’re okay? Obviously we loved it, but….“

Jake butted in to finish his question, “Did you like it, nena?” 

“Yes,” your tone didn’t leave any room for doubt. Now a little more recovered from your orgasm, you could string together a sentence. “I loved it, it was just intense, and it was our first time being intimate like that.”

“We’re a bit full on, aren’t we?” Steven asked with wry self-deprecation, tossing the used flannel off to the side of the room and getting under the covers. 

“I love it,” you said once again, settling into his arms, “I married you after all.”

“Good,” Steven murmured. “You didn’t happen to bring more lingerie like that, did you?” 

***

Though the benefits to having a private pool were many…mainly that you and your husband could have pool sex whenever the mood struck, you did make it to the beach. It’d be a sin not to, and the image of Marc emerging form the ocean was one you’d lock in your mind until you died. 

He was dripping wet head to toe, dark hair slicked back with water, his trunks clinging to those muscular thighs that drove you wild, and his golden skin had darkened a shade from the sun. Though you knew your husband had once been entangled with an Egyptian deity, you couldn’t help but think that Marc would be quite at home in the Greek pantheon too, with a body and face like that. 

“Hey! You gotta get in,” he ran a hand through his hair, “It’s like bathwater.” 

“I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out. 

Marc shot you a wide, unguarded grin. “I already married you, you don’t need to keep flattering me anymore.”

“Shut up,” you tossed at him fondly. 

Marc lowered his still dripping body on top of you. You tried to wiggle away from him but Marc locked you in his grasp and attacked you with kisses all over your face, “I think that I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman with a more generous heart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Marc,” your voice was thick with tears. It was one thing for Marc to be so playful with you, then add in such loving sentiments expressed to you so openly? You couldn’t help but get verklempt. Your husband had come such a long way - partly thanks to the work he did on his own, with his therapist, and of course you two refusing to give up on each other. 

“Baby, don’t cry!” He cajoled. 

“I’m not, I’m sweaty,” you joked. 

“Okay, then I was sweating at the temple,” Marc bantered back, referring to your wedding ceremony. “Will you please come swim with me? The most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” 

You shoved playfully Marc and got up to head to the water, “I give you one compliment…” 

***

Kate, one of your friends from work, had gifted you a couples massage at the resort for your wedding present. You weren’t sure how the boys decided which one would front for it, but when it was time to leave for the appointment, Jake was the one accompanying you. 

It was heavenly to have all of the wedding and travel stress massaged from your muscles, and no one was more deserving of rest & relaxation than your husband. Their body worked three jobs, plus there had been much strategizing and occasional hair-pulling for Marc and Jake about leaving things with their respective jobs in a place so that they wouldn’t come back from Greece to dumpster fires. Steven was mercifully on summer holiday, so his job was slow anyway. 

The pair of you left your joint session as pliable noodle-people. Jake took your hand as you ambled back to your suite. 

“I’m going to give Kate the biggest thank you,” you vowed. 

He seconded you with a content hum and opened the door to your room. 

“I’m going to take a shower, get all of this oil off of me,” you announced, padding into the bathroom, “honey, what did you do with my shampoo?” 

You routed around in his toiletries bag, thinking you’d found it, but what you produced was definitely not your stolen shampoo. 

Jake had followed you in and when he saw that you were holding the bottle of lube he brought, it was one of the very few times you’d ever seen him blush. You had no trouble getting wet, and you hadn’t brought any toys on vacation either, so what had he brought lube for…oh. 

All he’d wanted for the past few “special occasions” you two had shared (Hannukah, your anniversary, Daylights Savings Time) was anal sex. You weren’t opposed to the idea, but had required a gradual approach to it. To his credit, Jake had been wonderfully patient, and you’d become comfortable with a few of his thick fingers in your ass. 

Jake immediately began to backtrack, “I only brought it in case you wanted to—“

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I mean I’m open to it, when in Greece on your honeymoon, right? 

Jake looked at you with barely contained eagerness. “Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo?”

He knew that if he wanted a piece of your ass, he had to ask in advance. You were a lady and you had a certain mystique you had to maintain, not to mention preparation you needed to undergo. But, given that you were already pretty relaxed and going to shower anyway, now seemed as good a time as any. 

“No time like the present,” you suggested. 

“Wait, really?!” Jake reacted similarly to a little boy who’d been given his first bike. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at his response. “Yeah, I’m all loosened up after the massage and I’ll make this shower a thorough one. So while I do, vamos and make things extra romantic in the bedroom.” 

“Si Señora Lockley,” he basically road-runnered out of the bathroom. 

Jake took your task to heart – when you entered the bedroom, hair damp, lube in hand, towel wrapped around you — candles had been lit, music was playing softly, and he had even managed to get a bottle of champagne up to the room while you’d washed up. 

“Not bad Lockley,” you said after surveying the room. You tossed him the lube. “Not bad at all.”

He shot you a grin that was akin to a wolf who just caught sight of a rabbit. Jake gestured to the champagne, “Shall we? Loosen you up un poquito mas?” 

“Por favor,” you assented. You weren’t sure exactly what made the popping of a champagne bottle so sexual, but a little thrill zinged through you when your husband ejected the cork from its glass neck. 

“Cheers,” you thanked him when he handed you a flute, raising it to toast, “To…new beginnings.” 

Jake mimicked your movement, “A tí, mi amor.”

Your glasses clinked and the fizzy alcohol rushed down your throat. Jake's eyes never left your face. He watched you closely, anticipating the moment when he could finally touch you. 

You decided sooner was likely better than later, best get the show on the road before you could psych yourself out. Placing your flute down, you crossed to him, “Come here Papi.”

Jake flashed you another predatory grin and followed suit at once. “We don’t need this anymore.” His fingers tucked between the towel covering your skin and pulled it loose so the cloth fell around your feet. 

Jake was more intoxicated by the sight of your naked body than any amount of champagne in his system. He wrapped you into a kiss, plundering your mouth, his lips seeking to consume you. His hands, meanwhile, immediately dropped to your rear. 

Hoisting you up with a squeeze, he carried you over to the bed, depositing you on the mattress much more gently than a few nights ago. His mouth never left yours while he worked you to an orgasm on his fingers. 

Then, and only then, did Jake request you turn over, wedge a pillow under your hips, and leave a line of kisses down the length of your spine. 

You couldn’t help but squirm a little when he pulled your cheeks apart. You’d never felt more exposed in your life, but your husband was quick to quell any of your concerns when he asked in an awed whisper, “Nena, can I kiss you here?” 

“Mmm…oh-okay,” you consented and jerked again when you felt his hot breath on your most vulnerable spot, followed by a brush of his lips. 

Next came the snick of the cap of the bottle being opened, and moments later, Jake massaged lube around your wrinkled skin to coat it thoroughly. He may have been excited, but your husband knew he had to be gentle with you. 

Though Jake had gotten you accustomed to much more, you could never stifle the little “ah” you made when the pad of his finger breached your rim. He coaxed more of his digit inside of you, taking ample time to allow you to adjust. 

Jake checked in with you. “How does that feel?” 

“It’s okay,” you told him, “you can move.” 

He proceeded like that, constantly touching base with you as he fed two more fingers into your tight pucker. Your husband’s preparation was a steady stream of “are you okay nena?”, “you feel good? Papi wants you to feel good,” and other praise. 

So thorough was Jake in opening you up that he’d lost his erection by the time you’d given him the go-ahead to enter you. He wasn’t exactly miffed by this development, because he knew precisely how he wanted to get it back. 

Even more lube was drizzled onto your bum, then Jake slicked up his cock to wedge it between your plush cheeks and began to grind himself between them. There was no way to muffle the rumble in his chest at the feel of your ass smothering his cock, the lube providing the necessary slip, and he was damn near entranced by his cockhead reappearing each time from the cleft of your ass. 

You helped him, working your hips back to meet his while he humped you. It felt amazing, and your asshole clenched at the thought that he’d be inside you soon. Fucking your ass cheeks got Jake back to full mast in no time. You were beginning to lose yourself in the rhythmic sliding of your bodies when you husband draped himself over your back to ask in a murmur, “Can I put it in, nena?” 

“Uh huh,” you confirmed, “just go slow please.” 

“Claro que si,” Jake assured you, placing a kiss behind your ear before he straightened up. 

He applied even more lube to your now winking asshole and his dick before he notched the tip at your entrance. “Estas lista?” 

“Yes honey, please,” his cockhead at your pucker felt like a promise you were now desperate for him to make good on. 

Jake’s tip popped past the ring of muscle and you nearly bit down on the linens below you. It was intense, though not altogether painful like you’d feared. You focused on keeping your breathing even as your husband continued to sink inside of you, becoming lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling of fullness in your ass and the deep pulls of oxygen you were pumping into your lungs. 

“Bien?” Jake asked. The strain in his voice was evident. 

“Yeah,” was the most you could manage. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Like I want more,” you told him truthfully. The feeling of having your husband’s dick up your bum was dizzying, deliciously too much, like a scab you weirdly enjoyed picking. 

You experimentally fluttered your muscles around his length and even though Jake was a loving, patient man, even he could not resist the thrust and groan that the move prompted. “Feel good, Papi? Like everything you’ve wanted?”

Jake began moving his hips slowly, “And more.” 

While the view of the sea outside of your window was stunning, Jake didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight he’d enjoy more than his throbbing cock splitting your ass in half over and over again.  

“You…you feel so big like this,” you gasped. “So huge inside me.” 

“Joder, mami, you can’t just say things like that,” he cautioned you as he continued to plow you. 

“Buh-but I can’t help it,” you confessed, and your mind quickly supplied what to say next to drive him absolutely wild. “Fucking me so deep, Papi.”

“Nnnngnnn,” came Jake’s scintillating reply. By now, most of the burn had faded from your channel and you could focus on the delicious stretch in your rear from his cock.

You honestly couldn’t believe how good it felt. Fingers and fantasies were one thing, plus you were fully prepared to take one for the team, to be a good wife and try it even if you weren't keen on the idea. But now you were the slightest bit ashamed to admit that you kind of loved having a cock in your ass. Or maybe it was the fact it was your husband’s thick erection filling you. 

Jake’s brain did nearly explode when you began meeting his thrusts, rocking back on your knees so he could penetrate you deeper. Your ass was absolutely suffocating his cock with its heat and clench around him, he truly believed he could live inside of you forever if you’d let him. 

The two of you communicated exclusively in gasps in grunts, the slap of skin on skin reverberating throughout the suite while you drowned each other in pleasure. You knew when Jake picked up the rate of his thrusts and began growling that he was close and oh, it was different to have your ass filled with cum rather than your pussy. 

You’d barely recovered from Jake easing his cock out of you when you were flipped onto your back and your husband buried his face between your legs. A high-pitched moan tore out from you when his tongue probed your now slightly gaping asshole to collect his cum. 

Jake didn’t stop there, licking around your cleft and spearing his tongue to circle its tip around your sensitive rim. He only relented when you gently pushed his face away from overstimulation. Between your earlier orgasm and the passion of what you had just shared with Jake, you needed to rest.  

He rose back to be level with your face, whispering “thank you” non-stop as he collected you in his arms. “I guess I have to be extra good from now on.”

“Mmmm?” you sought clarification with a sleepy hum. 

“We need to do that again so I can’t piss you off anymore,” he explained. 

You chuckled. “Exactly right, esposo.” 

He inhaled deeply, taking a deep whiff of your hair to smell the faint citrusy scent of your shampoo before he left the bed. To his credit, Jake was excellent with the post-anal aftercare. He drew you a bath, ordered everything you wanted from (the heinously expensive in his opinion) room service, rubbed some petroleum jelly on your pucker to soothe it. He cuddled you in bed, long after the sun sank beyond the horizon, until you drifted off later that evening. 

***

“Good morning!” the concierge Helena greeted you as you approached her desk. 

“Hi there,” you chirped back. The boys slept in this morning, which gave you the opportunity to sneak down to the lobby and square away the details for today’s day trip that you and Steven planned on taking. “Could I please have a copy of the ferry schedule?”

“Of course, Mrs. Spector,” one week in and you still got a little flutter every time someone called you that, “where are you headed?” 

“Delos,” you told her. 

“A must when visiting Mykonos. We’d be happy to arrange a private tour of the island for you and your husband,” Helena offered, “We have relationships with a few exceptional guides on Delos and–”

“Oh that won’t be necessary,” you tried to turn her down gently. “But thanks for the offer.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s so much history there.” 

“My husband’s a professor of ancient civilizations,” you explained as she passed you the little flyer with the ferry timetable, “he’s been researching Delos since we booked this trip months ago.” 

“Huh, I thought he said he was a consultant,” Helena’s colleague, a male concierge who’d welcomed you, chimed in. 

“He is,” you covered, thinking fast, “He teaches and consults with archaeologists on digs.” 

“You’ll be well set then” Helena concluded with a smile. 

“Yes,” you agreed, “I won’t be surprised if by the end of the day, I’ll be able to lead a tour of the island.” 

Your prediction was more or less correct. Steven’s eyes lit up as Delos came into view from the ferry’s bow. He’d already briefed you on the early history and beginnings of the island on the ride over. Anyone else, it would be pedantic and infuriating, but Steven was so genuinely invested that his urge to share about the island was endearing, his enthusiasm about its lore contagious. 

You two meandered through the breathtaking ruins hand-in-hand. Steven’s unofficial tour of the island was so engaging that you clocked a few American tourists loitering near you, eavesdropping to hear all of your husband’s in-depth knowledge of the different statues and remains of the site. 

Your husband remained blissfully oblivious, and you didn’t mind the audience. You’d gotten your picture at the Terrace of the Lions, and besides, Steven was at his best like this. You thought back to when you first met and started dating him: his hunched posture, general jumpiness, the way he’d hedge and second-guess himself. Those facets of him had already melted away to an extent now that all four of you had settled into a groove that worked for everyone, but when Steven had a chance to talk about the subjects he was passionate about, he was calm, confident, and charismatic. He shone brighter than the blazing Greek sun and it warmed your heart more than words could ever describe to see your darling husband so effortlessly in his element. 

So taken were you by his swagger that you interrupted his latest lecture about Cleopatra or something as you strolled to the Temple of The Delians, walking him back into one of the tall, ancient pillars to kiss him senseless. 

“Blimey,” he sighed when you broke apart, “what was that for?” 

You cocked your head playfully, “Do I need a reason to kiss my smart, sexy husband?” 

“No,” he conceded with a sheepish smile playing across his lips. 

You crowded closer to his body, his spine now pressed against the millennia-old, unyielding marble.

“These broad shoulders, all this golden skin…you look like a Greek god, you know,” you informed him while your hands traveled the cotton-covered expanse of his body. You pressed yourself impossibly closer to his body. 

“Careful,” he warned you,“because soon this column won’t be the only thing as hard as stone.” 

“Oh yeah?” Your tone was a playful challenge as you palmed his hardness through his shorts. 

He groaned, “Babe…”

You withdrew your hand from his crotch. “Wanna feel what you do to me? So we’re even?” 

He nodded feverishly to accept your offer and slipped his hand under the skirt of your sundress to dip his fingers inside of your lacy panties and feel you. 

“So wet,” he observed reverently, playing with your folds and bud, “All this for me?”

“It’s certainly not for the ruins,” you quipped. 

He slipped a finger inside you for your cheekiness, and you instantly tightened around him with a little whimper. 

“Only you could make me want to cut a trip to Delos short,” he mused, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt, wiping your wetness on your panties, so as not to draw any attention. 

“I’ll behave myself,” you promised, smoothing down your skirt. “Delos was your only honeymoon request.” 

Steven’s hand took yours once again. “This and more lingerie fashion shows.” 

You squeezed his hand, “Play your cards right and I'll give you a good one later.” 

***

You’d put on quite the naughty fashion show for Steven when you returned to the suite and between the vigorous fucking your little act had resulted in and a day of sightseeing in the sun, you two passed out cold post-coitus. 

Marc had woken up with you just as the sun disappeared below the horizon and suggested a dip to cool and rinse you off after your earlier lovemaking. You knew what “a dip in the pool” meant when your husband suggested it, but what you hadn’t expected was to be bent over your balcony in the Grecian twilight in the nude while your husband railed you from behind.

“Now this is a beautiful view,” he remarked as he pounded you. “I have the ocean and your ass jiggling without having to turn my head.” 

Words escaped you at the moment. You were bowed over the rail, indescribably full in this position, equal parts thrilled and terrified that people could see your husband using your pussy in the dwindling sun.

Marc pulled your ass cheeks apart to get a better look at his cock as it was sucked in by your cunt. He kept a hand holding you open while the other massaged the wrinkled skin of your pucker, causing you to convulse at the unexpected touch. 

“I get your ass next,” he declared, “It was so hot watching Jake take it…fuck, like a porno just for me and Steven. You were so beautiful.” 

You mewled. As dirty as Marc liked to be, he could never abandon his adoration of you. You belonged to one another, each of you placing your trust, respect, vulnerability in the other’s hands to have absolutely shameless sex like this. 

“Duh-duh-do…do you think anyone can see?” You wondered out loud. 

“Dunno,” Marc replied, still thumbing your asshole. “Probably not but I don’t care if they do, because you’re mine. Right, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you instantly concurred . “All yours daddy.” 

The use of the pet name spurred Marc to spin you around so that your back was up against the crossbeam that made up the railing. He hitched your leg around his thick hips and plunged back into your needy core swiftly. 

“So beautiful,” he repeated again now that you were facing each other. “So goddamn gorgeous.” 

“Such a slut for you Marc,” you rambled, your breath hitching when his hand dropped between you once more, this time to strum at your clit. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “My wife is a slut for me and only me, you’ve got everyone else fooled.” 

“It’s ‘cause you fuck me like this,” you provided, “‘s why I married you, no one else can make me come so hard.” 

Marc redoubled his efforts on your little nub, now fully peeking out from its hood. “That’s right, come for me baby.” 

Who were you to disobey? You had to bite your lip to muffle your mind as the fire of your orgasm licked through every corner of your body. Your hands gripped the wooden railing for dear life as it spread throughout your limbs. 

Marc followed shortly after you, burying his face into your shoulder as he released deep into your heat with a satisfied groan. He brought your lips together once he finished, capturing you in tender liplock, allowing his cock to soften inside you before extracting it. 

“Let’s never go back to London,” you proposed. 

You could feel Marc’s amused smile against your skin. “Deal.” 

Of course you had to, but it was nice to pretend as if you all didn’t have lives to go back to in two and a half days, even if only for a moment. 

***

The next morning, your last full day in Greece, you didn’t want to get out of bed. Your airtight, logical reasoning was if you didn’t wake up the day couldn’t start and pass you by. Plus, you were too comfortable to move. Your back and neck were supported by fluffy pillows, your legs were splayed open and damn, there was the most delightful sensation between them. 

It took embarrassingly long for your sleep and pleasure-addled brain to realize that your husband was feasting at you. You eyes blinked open to find the covers pushed back and his inky curls at the apex of your thighs. You moaned, and when he flicked his tongue in quick succession over your clit, you knew it was Steven. 

“Honey.” 

“Oh you’re awake,” he grinned, his chin wet from your slick when he briefly separated himself from your cunt to greet you. “Brilliant.” 

…And he went right back to eating you out like a starving man. You gasped, your fingers curled into his locks, and you jolted into a sitting position as Steven continued. Already the steady pulse of pleasure beat through you indicating that your climax was near. 

“How long have you been at this, baby?” 

“Dunno,” he murmured against your slit, “a while.” 

“Yeah?” Your voice was barely more than a rasp. “Woke up hungry for some pussy?” 

He moaned and nodded his head with his tongue firmly shoved against your bud and fuck, yep that did it. You came with a keen, your thighs trembling and your fingers clawing at the crisp white sheets.

Steven retreated some while your orgasm wracked your body, then dove right back in. You tried to twist away from him, still so sensitive, but Steven wrapped his muscled arms around your twitching legs to hold you still. 

“Baby,” you attempted to protest. 

“Need it,” he countered, his voice reedy. 

You pet his curls and tried to keep your legs steady as his morning scruff tickled your inner thighs. At least he eased back in to his assault on your cunt, dropping the lightest kisses on the crease where your thighs meet your groin before lapping at you once more.

He was trying to get as much of you wet as he could, it felt like, before he narrowed his target to just licking stripes from your asshole to your clit. Only once he had you dripping to his liking did he return to stick his tongue in your hole, gulping down your taste, moving to your clit shortly thereafter. 

By that point it didn’t take much for you to erupt on his tongue, awarding Steven another orgasm that you could feel from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. 

You were not proud to admit that you kind of zoned out at that point, Steven’s mouth enshrined you in a haze of pleasure so dense that you just kind of floated atop it. Your husband seemed to be having the time of his life down there, so you were more than content to submit his ministrations.

You couldn’t really remember your name anymore but did it matter? Did you actually need to know your name to receive all of this ecstasy? 

He pulled one - wait maybe it was two? - orgasms out of you - solely with his mouth before Steven’s fingers joined in. He performed a variation of your favorite move, sucking on your clit and instead of finger-fucking you, his digits pressed deep inside of your pussy. He stroked your walls,  fingertips searching for that special spot. He found it, then your sweet Steven proceeded  to abuse the ever-loving fuck out of it. 

You could feel the magnitude of the orgasm building rapidly, more rapidly than you were used to, yet nevertheless you canted your hips against Steven’s mouth and fingers as you hurdled toward your peak.  Your release arrived with a distinct feeling of letting go, an uncontrollable sensation, but Steven wouldn’t stop worshiping your pussy, which wrenched a pitiful, strained wail from your mouth as you peaked. 

It was as if you couldn’t stop coming. You'd never experienced anything like this before, and although it felt magnificent, it scared you some too. 

Steven’s voice brought you back. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Your vision returned and you peered down at him to ask, “Did I just squirt?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his face a portrait of sheer wonder. “It was bloody amazing.” 

“Ohmygod” you reeled, words coming out on a rush. “I didn’t know I could do that.” 

A flash of movement caught your eye. Steven gripped his cock which looked painfully hard, the top purpled and leaking. 

“C’mere baby,” you cooed, motioning toward you. “Use my mouth.” You couldn’t do much currently, but you could do this. 

Steven didn’t need to be told twice, awkwardly walking on his knees so he was straddling your chest. You gave his erection a few swipes of your tongue before you looked up at your husband, your eyes beckoning him to fuck your mouth like he needed to after denying himself pleasure for so long. You gripped onto his muscled, pillowy ass cheeks while he feverishly pistoned his dick into the warm suction of your mouth, the loveliest little sounds and cries escaping him. 

Given the events of this morning, it wasn’t long before you were swallowing down Steven’s cum. The size of his load indicated how pent up he’d been, and you struggled to swallow all of his hot seed down in one gulp. Your husband swung his leg over your body and collapsed next to you, the two of you rendered silent after the intense lovemaking you’d just shared. 

“Blimey,” Steven remarked. “You alright, babe? Need anything?” 

You nuzzled into his chest. “I’m hungry.”  

“Yeah, we both worked up quite the appetite, didn’t we?” he chuckled. 

You joined in, amused. “If only we could subsist off each other’s bodily fluids.” 

“We definitely wouldn’t have left the room this week if that had been the case,” he pointed out. “I think the restaurant’s still serving breakfast if we hurry.”

“Can’t we get room service? I can’t move.” You pulled the covers over your head in protest. 

“But it’s so bloody expensive,” he bemoaned. 

You revealed your face to fire back, “Well, you should’ve thought of that before you made me squirt because you’ve rendered my legs useless.” 

Steven’s expression became tinged with concern. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes,” you assuaged him once again, “but four orgasms tends to take it out of you. Plus, baby, it’s our last day here, we should treat ourselves.” 

Your husband relented, reaching for the in-room phone, “Want the bowl you had last time?”

You nodded, just absolutely beaming now that you’d gotten your way, and planted a wet kiss on Steven’s cheek as he placed your breakfast order. 

He pulled you close to him once more after he hung up, and you pondered as he held you, “I can’t believe I’ll be back at work in forty-eight hours. I’ll be meant to be catching up on emails and all I’ll be able to think about is how well you three fucked me.” 

Steven hummed in a mix of agreement and satisfaction. “We certainly made the most of it, didn’t we? It’ll be tough to go back to our usual routine and not shag at least two times a day.”

“How did we even do it?” you giggled. 

“No idea,” he played along, then tilted your chin up to kiss you gingerly, sincerely. “I think it’s safe to say our marriage has gotten off to a cracking start however.” 

You reconnected your lips, kissing him deeper. “Couldn’t agree more, my love.” 

A/N: hopefully this was worth the wait!! thank you again dawnsutopia for requesting and more fills to come soon! 

Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042 @nikitawolfxo

Translations: 

Joder - Fuck 

Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda? - You like? Do you think I look cute? 

No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy - No, you’re cute but now you look so sexy 

Ven aquí - come here 

Por supuesto Papi - of course daddy

Joder si, nena - fuck yeah babe 

Bien, bien - okay, okay 

 Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo? - good, when do you want to do it? 

Vamos - let’s go

Por favor - please 

Señora - Mrs. 

un poquito mas - a little more 

A tí, mi amor - to you, my love 

Claro que si - of course 

Estas lista - are you ready? 

esposo - husband 

[pupkashi]

congratulations once again my love 💛 i'm bringing out the confetti!! may i request number 5 with kento, pretty please?🥺 kissing your cheeks, thank you in advance 💛💛💛

thank u so much julie my beloved <333 big smooches for u ^♡^ i hope you enjoy this !!!

join the celebration!

there’s a persistent nudging that makes your brows furrow, eyes fighting to open as the dimly lit room comes into focus.

“darling? you up?” the deep whisper causing your head to turn slowly, rubbing your eyes so you could focus on the man standing at the foot of you bed.

“ken? what’re you doing up?” you mumble, yawning as you sit up, checking the clock on the bedside table and frowning, “and why’re you waking me up at 5 in the morning.”

the whine in your voice makes kento smile, running a hand through his still messy blonde hair. he’s wearing grey sweatpants and a loose navy t shirt, one that you’d gifted him not too long ago.

“get changed i wanna take you somewhere” his voice is gentle, keeping in mind how much you hate loud noises when you wake up. when he sees the apprehension in your still sleepy face he moves next to you, leaning down a bit and kissing your cheek.

“please? I’ll make it worth it, i promise” there’s a charming smile on his face and you can’t stop yourself from leaning your head against his chest, mumbling something along of the lines of ‘only for you.’

it’s twenty minutes later that you’re walking into the living room, more awake than before but still a bit drowsy, grabbing a granola bar and nibbling away as he ushers you into the car.

“what’s that smell?” you ask, turning to look in the backseat but finding nothing.

“hm?” nanami only smiles, adoring the way you leaned your head against the window, humming along to the music playing softly from the speakers. he wastes no time in intertwining your fingers with him, brining your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

it’s a short drive, your eyes fluttering open when you hear the car engine stop. you’re looking around and kento is only giving you a small grin.

“give me five minutes then I’ll come get you, okay?” he asks, leaning over the center console to give you a soft kiss as you nod.

he’s opening the trunk of the car and walking quickly somewhere you can’t see from your point of view, only coming back into your line of sight a couple minutes later, a satisfied smile on his face as he opens the car door for you.

“ready?” you only nod, smiling as his takes his hand in your once more, closing the door behind you and leading you to where he’s disappeared to.

there’s a white and red blanket sprawled on the grass, surrounded by flowers. there’s fruits, croissants and a couple donuts on display, two warm coffees still in the wicker basket.

“ken” you breathe out, turning to look at the blonde man next to you, he only smiled at you, ushering you to sit on the soft blanket.

“surprise” he chuckles, the sound makes you smile, looking over at him and taking in his relaxed form. you’re both munching on the croissants when the sun begins to rise.

“you really made these?” you ask, inspecting the bread before looking back at your lover.

“‘s that so hard to believe, my love?” there’s a teasing grin on his face that makes you scrunch your nose up, shoving him with your shoulder slightly before letting your head rest on his chest.

one of his arms is behind him, hand in the dewy grass for balance as the other snakes around your shoulders, keeping you close to him as the reds and oranges slowly engulf the sky.

“it’s so pretty” you murmur, the two of you bathed in the suns golden rays as it slowly rises from its sleep, kissing both of you good morning.

nanami isn’t looking at the sun, he’s seen the sunrise more than enough times. instead, his eyes are focused on you, a gentle smile on his face. he’s memorizing every detail of your face, the way your hair looks a different color in the golden light.

he’s falling in love with you all over again when he replies to you, “yeah, so beautiful.”

[violettduchess]

aaa Violet, massive congratulations on 1k followers, you deserve it so much!! your writing always inspires me to improve, especially as a future english teacher! 🫶🏻 i’d love to request prompt 12 with Keith from IkePri, preferably both Keiths if that’s possible 💚🦌

A/N: I am almost at another milestone so I should continue with some of these too!

I hope you like it @mrlovesimps 💜 I tried something a bit different: the same scene, but how it would play out with each Keith

First Kiss Prompt #12: Gentle, then deeper

WC: 1.5k

“Gentle Keith”

You are the one who crosses the line of uncertainty first. It’s impossible to not touch him, sitting so close the way you are, the soft, cool grass of the lake embankment beneath you, moonlight trailing its silvery fingers over the dark, still water. Above you, the trees reach for the starlit sky, their leaves whispering to each other in the soft breeze, almost as if they are watching the two of you, sighing at the blatant yearning that ties your heartstrings together. 

He is shy, his gaze focused on the shimmering water, so very intently not looking at you, not willing to take the chance that his expression may give away the volcanic desire that threatens to erupt when he catches your scent, lavender and roses, when he sees your beautiful lips curve upwards in a smile meant only for him. It brings a wash of heat to his cheeks if he holds your gaze for too long, when he allows his thoughts to wander….what would it feel like to run his palms over the soft skin of your waist, to wind his fingers around a lock of your hair, to press his cheek against the swell of– 

And then he catches himself and bites his lip, his head shaking ever so slightly. 

This is what moves you, the sight of his lip between his teeth, the stiffness of his shoulders, the slope of them as they angle away from you. You’re tired of fighting this and now, in a setting that practically screams romance, you want to let him know that the longing in his golden eyes is reciprocated. 

You reach out, gently but firmly cupping his chin and turn him towards you. Your hand stays there, thumb stroking the line of cheekbone as he looks almost startled, his brow furrowing in something like disbelief with a shade of confusion.

He starts to say your name and you lean in, stopping any other words that are queued for release by pressing your lips against his. Oh, kissing him is so much more than the way you imagined it would be. His mouth feels like it was made to fit against yours, his lips firm and cool and perfect. For a moment, just a few seconds, as the evening breeze serenades you both with the rustle of leaves and gentle lapping of the lake, neither of you moves. You simply revel in this feeling, this new way of connecting, of touching, of giving the feelings that have been growing in your hearts a chance to slowly open their petals and blossom.

And then he shifts, his large hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he breaks contact only to immediately kiss you again. Emotion flutters through you as he does this over and over. Short, gentle, achingly sweet kisses that feel better than a fire’s warmth on a cool night, better than rose liquor, better than melted chocolate. Your hands land on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you sigh his name, your voice wavering with eagerness, with satisfaction.

His breathing is becoming ragged. He wants….so much. It overwhelms him, how much he wants you, wants this moment to be the first of a thousand similar moments that stretch out into eternity. He pulls away, just a little, his chin dropping, eyes closed against the hurricane circling its way around his restraint. Your fingers press into him and you whisper his name again. That one syllable, that word in your voice, crossing the lips he has just been tasting, bright with unmistakable desire.

You can almost hear the thundering of his heart, the waterfall rush of emotion churning through him. You murmur his name again, afraid he may be closing himself off from this, from you. But then slowly, his eyes open and he raises his head. It’s still him. He is still with you.

His body shifts as he straightens his long torso to look down at you, golden eyes now alight with desire. And he is no longer afraid of the blaze.

“Keith,” you murmur, reaching out to run the back of your fingers down his cheek. He doesn’t respond with words but with action, his smile warm as he reaches for you and you yield, bending into the strength of his arms, the press of his body as he kisses you.

He begins as gently as before, his lips against yours even as he moves with you, laying you back onto the cool grass, stretching himself over you, like shelter. And then his lips part and you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your whole world shrunk down to this man, the taste of him, the feel of him. There is nothing but Keith and this perfect, luminous moment.

“Dark Keith”

He is the one who crosses the line of uncertainty first. It’s impossible to not touch you, sitting so close to you the way he is, the night-dark grass of the embankment beneath you, moonlight spilling across the dark, still water of the lake. Above you, the trees hold out their spindly branches toward a sky littered with cold, diamond-edged stars. They seem to shy away from the intense waves of want and hunger radiating from his powerful body.

He wants you, his gaze so very intently drinking you in, dragging across the exposed skin of your neck, the enticing drop of your neckline, not at all bothering to hide the volcanic desire that threatens to erupt every time he catches your scent, lavender and roses, when he sees your delicious lips curve upwards in a smile that he wants only for himself. It brings a wash of heat to your cheeks if he holds your gaze for too long, when what he wants is so plainly written across the devastatingly handsome planes of his face….he wants to hold you by gripping the soft curve of your hip, to trap a lock of hair around his fingers, to sink his teeth into the swell of your– 

You catch your breath at the sight of his bright eyes burning into you and unconsciously, you bite your lip.

This is what moves him, the sight of your tempting lip between your white teeth, the drop of your shoulders, the slope of them as they angle towards him. He is tired of fighting this and now, in a setting that practically screams privacy, he wants to know for sure that his longing is reciprocated. 

He reaches out, gently but firmly cupping your chin and turning you towards him. His hand stays there, thumb stroking over the softness of your cheek as you stare at him, lips parted, your rapid heartbeat causing your breathing to be shallow and airy.

You begin to say his name and he leans in, stopping any other words that are queued for release by pressing his lips against yours. Oh, kissing you is so much more than what he has been imagining. Your mouth feels like it was made just for him, your lips soft and sweet and perfect. For a moment, just a few seconds, as the evening breeze shakes the tree branches and the lake undulates in response, neither of you moves. You simply revel in this feeling, this new way of connecting, of touching, of giving the desire that has been warming your veins and consuming your dreams a chance to slowly burn its way through you..

And then he shifts, his large hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he breaks contact only to immediately kiss you again. Emotion courses through you as he does this over and over, hungry, greedy kisses that turn your blood to lava, that have your heartbeat boom like thunder as it rolls across a stormy sky, that have you dizzy with need. Your hands land on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you gasp his name, your voice breaking with eagerness, with want.

His breathing is becoming ragged. He wants….so much. It overwhelms him, how much he wants you, wants this moment to be the first spark preceding a roaring bonfire. He moves closer, his chin dropping as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, eyes closed as he revels in the powerful hurricane of his need for you. Your fingers press into him and you sigh his name again. That one syllable, that word in your voice, crossing the lips he has just been tasting, bright with unmistakable desire.

He can feel the roar of your heart under his tongue, the waterfall rush of emotion churning through you. Yet again you pant his name. And then slowly, his eyes open and he raises his head. He is going to devour you and you welcome it.

His body shifts as he straightens his long torso to look down at you, his hands already running down your sides possessively, impatiently.

You bend into the strength of his arms, the press of his body as he kisses you, laying you back onto the cool grass, stretching himself over you. And then his lips part and you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your whole world shrunk down to this man, the taste of him, the feel of him. There is nothing but Keith and this perfect, unbridled moment.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @drewadoodle-dandy @keithsandwich

[jeannineee]

For the smut prompts:

C,F, #15, #16 with Cassian pretty please🙏🙏🙏

Make Me

Cassian x Reader

a/n: Cassian could get it anytime!! Anyway!! More prompts here. This one is a bit longer than I was expecting lol. I have more works coming w/ Manon, Ruhn, Lucien, and Hunt!!

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

C: hatefucking

F: Impact play

15: “Wanna act like a brat? You can get fucked like a brat.”

16: “Keep your mouth shut.” “Make me.”

~~~~~~

You loathed Cassian from the day you met him.

You’d tried to keep things professional with him, during your Valkyrie training, but he was fucking insufferable.

Yet a part of you still wanted him.

Even Azriel had noticed that Cassian was noticeably harder on you than the other recruits.

And on the off chance you and Cassian had to interact with each other outside of training? Cauldron spare whoever had to be around the two of you.

Tonight, unfortunately was one of those times.

It was Solstice. You’d planned on staying home, but Feyre invited—forced—you to attend the party she threw with Rhys.

The main room had been far too crowded for your tastes, so you went outside to the balcony, savoring the cool air against the skin that wasn’t covered by your dress.

“Of course,” a rough voice sounded to your right.

Cassian.

Just your luck.

“Fuck off. I’m not in the mood tonight,” you muttered, not even sparing a glance at the general.

“I was out here first,” Cassian replied, taking another step towards you.

“Congratulations. This balcony is more than large enough for two people.”

Cassian scoffed. “There is no space large enough to spare me from the inconvenience that is you.”

You laughed bitterly, finally turning to face him. You tried not to stare at him too intently as you spoke. “That’s big vocabulary for you, Cas. Read a few books recently?”

“Fuck you,” he spat, baring his teeth in a snarl.

You grinned wickedly. “You’d like to, wouldn’t you?”

For the first time in the two decades you’d known him, Cassian froze. Only for a moment, but still. “Speak for yourself,” he finally muttered, beginning to walk away.

“Oh, I get it, now. That’s why you hate me so much,” you said, laughing. “You wanna fuck me so badly it makes you hate me.”

Cassian whirled on you, his face suddenly so close to yours you could see his blown pupils, feel his breath against your lips.

“Keep your mouth shut,” Cassian sneered, grabbing the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Make me.”

Cassian’s expression was nothing short of feral as he yanked you towards him, and shot off into the sky, towards the House of Wind.

You shoved at his chest as he flew, cursing him to hell and back even after he landed, dragging you to his bedroom.

“You fucking prick,” you shouted, sending your palm towards Cassian’s face.

He easily caught your hand, pulling you forward until your chest was flush against his. “Take your dress off,” he said, his voice low and even.

You couldn’t deny the heat pooling between your legs at his tone, but you tilted your chin defiantly. “No.”

Cassian grinned, but there was no kindness in the action. “You don’t want to test me, y/n.”

“Go fuck your—“

Cassian threw you over his shoulder, tossing you on his bed hard enough that you bounced. “I can fuck you with the dress on. Get on your hands and knees.”

You glared at him, unable to think of another quick remark.

“Hands and knees. Now,” Cassian growled.

You bit the inside of your cheek until it bled, before swallowing your pride, turning and bracing yourself on your hands and knees.

“You actually know how to follow orders,” Cassian remarked, his hands ghosted over the backs of your thighs, before lifting your ass further into the air.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m getting to that, don’t you worry.” Cassian replied, pulling your dress over your hips. “Wanna act like a brat? You can get fucked like a brat.”

The sound of your underwear tearing rang through your ears before you had the chance to protest.

“Won’t be needing these,” Cassian muttered.

“I liked those, asshole.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he said casually, before smacking your ass, just hard enough for you to feel a sting.

“Guess your training with me is paying off,” he said, slapping your ass again, admiring the way it jiggled.

“Oh, fuck off,” you said, before yelping as his palm connected to you again.

Cassian chuckled. “I mean, I’ll stop if you want me to, but this…” he trailed off for a moment, prodding a finger through your glistening folds, “…you’re so wet for me, sweetheart. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Sweetheart. He’d never called you that before. Cauldron damn the feeling it sent through your chest.

Cassian smacked your ass again, bringing you back to reality. “I need you to tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, rubbing your now-sore skin.

“Don’t stop,” you replied immediately, internally cursing yourself for the desperation in your voice.

If Cassian noticed your tone, he didn’t say anything about it as he undid his trousers, lining his cock up with your entrance.

He slid into you with a groan, only giving you a few moments to adjust to his size before gripping your ass hard enough to bruise, thrusting relentlessly.

“Gods, your cunt is squeezing me so tight,” Cassian said breathlessly, landing another slap to your backside.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you said in between moans, your hands helplessly grasping the sheets.

“Why? You don’t like it when I tell you how good you feel? How well you take my cock?”

The way your cunt clenched around him in response told him all he needed to know.

Between his filthy mouth, and the way he was fucking you, you knew you weren’t lasting long. By the sounds of it, neither was Cassian.

“Cassian—fuck—I’m so close,” you whimpered out, you legs shaking as your release approached.

The need in your voice almost had Cassian finishing on the spot. “Fuck, sweetheart. Show me how good my cock makes you feel. Come for me.”

You practically screamed his name as your orgasm ripped through you.

Cassian’s thrusts grew sloppier as he chased his own high, your name falling from his lips as he spilled into you.

You collapsed on the bed, utterly spent. Cassian tucked himself away, before laying next to you.

The feeling of his body heat snapped you out of your own head, and you sat up quickly. “I should go,” you said, adjusting your dress, rising from the bed.

You were almost to the door when Cassian spoke up.

“You can—you can stay. If you want.”

You turned to face him again. “I wouldn’t expect you to want to spend the night with someone you hate.”

Cassian smiled, softer than you’d ever seen him. “I don’t hate you. But you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to.”

After a moment of battling with your thoughts, you caved.

As you climbed into bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as though you’d done it thousands of times, you said, “This doesn’t mean that I like you, just so we’re clear.”

Cassian laughed, the warm and hearty sound reverberating through your bones. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why, afraid it might make you like me?”

“Shut up,” you murmured, on the brink of sleep.

Cassian laughed again. “There’s the y/n I know.”

[beewolfwrites]

Hiii! I've been on your blog for a while and really liked everything you wrote Chishiya related (I'm reallyyy looking forward for the new chapters in vThe Oar in the Sand", I literally spent the whole night reading your series and now I'm hungry for more of it :3)

Anyway besides screaming my love for your writing I came to humbly ask if you could write some chishiya x fem!reader, where his coworkers didnct know he had and S/O at all and are pretty shocked (honestly I ate this prompt every time)

Have a wonderful day and drink water! Can't wait to hear from you :3

Hey! Thank you so much, I hope you enjoyed the series so far, and I've started writing the next chapter of The Oar in the Sand so hopefully I'll be able to update it soon, and I may even post a little snippet of the new chapter later today :)

I really enjoyed writing this, even if it's mainly Chishiya destroying the dreams of one hopeful nurse. Your water reminder was kind of an inspiration too.

Have a wonderful day too!!

-----------------------------------------------

Long shifts were always tiring. Not so much because of the complexity of the surgeries - with my skills, even ten hour operations were manageable, and once you removed yourself emotionally even the most intricate surgeries felt mechanical. No, what drained me most was the small talk, that calm, reassuring bedside manner that I'd spent years mastering. It was like playing a role, one that I felt no familiarity towards, no joy. And then there were the questions…

‘Will I be okay, Doctor?’ 

‘What will happen to me? Will I be able to live a normal life?’ 

‘Will I see my family again?’ 

Such ridiculous questions. Everything in this world comes with risk. They were more likely to die in a car accident on the way to the hospital than on my operating table. And if life was simply a gamble, what difference did it make?

The hospital was quieter now as the night staff began to arrive, trading shifts with their daytime colleagues. Outside, the sky had darkened into dusk and the city skyline burned neon. I headed back to my office, shrugging off my white coat and hanging it on the wall beside a dusty looking picture that had been part of the room long before I moved in. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of leaving the office door open. 

‘Chishiya-sensei?’ 

One of the nurses, Honoka, was lurking in the doorway, her fist raised as if she had intended to knock before seeing that I was there. She was only a couple of years older than me, but clearly lacked the ability to realise when her presence wasn’t needed. Or wanted, for that matter. 

‘Honoka,’ I replied cooly. I was too drained to bother with a false smile. 

Again? Let’s get this over with. 

She fluttered about nervously, one hand hidden behind the door frame. How pathetic. Obviously she was hiding some kind of token - a gift, of sorts. 

‘Is it a bad time? I wanted to catch you before you went home for the day.’

Losing interest already, I diverted my attention to my bag, searching through the pockets and feeling around at the base. Hospitals were funny about their rules, what you can and can’t wear due to risk of infection. Still searching, I cut to the chase. 

‘Did you have something for me?’ 

Her jaw dropped and her eyes averted immediately. ‘How… How did…’ She shook head and revealed her hand. She was holding a bottle of strawberry flavoured water, which she immediately presented to me. ‘I just wanted to congratulate you on the surgery this afternoon.’ 

I glanced at the bottled water. ‘The appendectomy?’ 

A basic one-hour procedure… talk about grasping at straws. 

‘Err, yes.’ She gulped. 

She was unsure of herself now, possibly because I lacked any and all interest. Sighing, I checked one last pocket in my bag before finally finding what I was looking for. The wedding band was cool and familiar in my palm, and I slipped it on my finger. 

‘Thank you Honoka,’ I said, taking the water from her. ‘I think I’ll save this for my wife. She’ll probably be tired.’ 

Honoka’s expression drained of all colour. ‘Your… your wife, Chishiya-sensei? You never mentioned you were married.’ 

I smiled - the same cheerful mask I had worn for years now. ‘I don’t believe anybody asked.’ 

And I don’t believe it’s anybody’s business. 

I slotted the bottled water in my bag, only for Honoka to flinch. ‘I just thought you might have been thirsty.’ 

Hauling my bag onto my shoulder, I slipped past her in the doorway on my way out. ‘My wife likes strawberry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.’ 

I didn’t bother to look back, even though this news would spread like wildfire around the hospital staff by the next morning. I didn’t care. If anything, it was one less nuisance to deal with; Honoka, or any of the other nurses, wouldn’t be paying any impromptu visits to my office from now on. My thumb stroked the wedding band on my finger, a constant reminder of the only thing that truly mattered. 

As if on cue, my phone hummed in my pocket. It started as a one-off after a bad day, but when one bad day turned into a bad week, a bad year, and then a bad workplace, your post-shift phone calls quickly became a familiar habit. Surprisingly one that I never tired of. 

I picked up, skipping the greetings. ‘You’re finished already?’ 

‘Yep! Just heading to the car now. Where are you?’ 

‘What a coincidence,’ I said, using my free hand to take out my car key. The headlights flashed in the distance. ‘I’m on my way.’ 

You sighed on the other line, and I could hear the muffled sounds of you sliding into the driver’s seat. ‘Today’s really dragged, huh? I can’t wait to see you. It’s been terrible.’

‘Terrible, hm?’ I opened the door to my own car. 

‘Yeah. I’ve been so busy! They just keep throwing work at me and I can’t keep up. None of us can. I don’t know how long I can keep working here, Shuntarou.’

‘Well,’ I said, sliding my bag into the passenger seat. ‘I’ve got a story that’ll cheer you up.’

‘A story?’  

I smiled. ‘You like strawberries, right?’ 

[tonyspank]

EPILOGUE | GET ME

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

Warnings: fluffy

Words: 2.0k

A/N: I was like awww writing this chapter

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

"There have been speculations that Y/N didn't deserve her spot in the NBA...but now with eight seconds left on the clock of the game, she led her team to a championship in her first season ever. She silenced all the critics and proved that she belonged in the league.

—Her leadership and determination were undeniable and she earned her spot as one of the best players in the game, so young and so early on. She is now one of the most inspiring figures in the sport and a role model for many young players, dreaming of making it to the big leagues. She has set a high standard for future generations, showing that dedication and hard work can make even the wildest dreams come true."

You bend down, your emotions overwhelm you. In three seconds your team has officially won the 2022-2023 NBA Championship. You raise your arms to the sky as tears of joy roll down your cheeks.

You look around to find your teammates, and they are all in the same state of pure elation. They rush over to you, hugging and celebrating. You take a moment to soak it all in, and you can't help but smile. The dream has become a reality.

You look up at the crowd, thousands of cheering fans, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. You can't help but think about how far you have come, and the journey you have taken to get here. You realize that all of your hard work has paid off.

The team manager places a hat on your head, smiling as she congratulates you. You take a deep breath giving LaMelo Ball a tight hug. You two being one of the best duos to take the court in a while. You close your eyes, feeling the moment, knowing that no matter what happens, you will always have each other's back.

You break away from the hug and look around the room, your teammates cheering and celebrating your success. You laugh, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

"Y/N!" Your head turns at the sound of your name, and you're met with a few cameras pointed your way. You smile and share a look with your manager before walking over to the cameras. Lisa, an interviewer, shakes your hand and introduces herself.

You take a few moments to compose yourself, and then you start to answer her questions. "Y/N, we feel the emotion. Where is it all coming from? How do you feel after leading your team to the championship?"

You adjust your hat, letting out a breath. "I'm honored and proud. It's been a long journey, full of hard work and dedication. I'm thankful to everyone who has been a part of it. Never would I have thought I'd be the first woman to ever play in the NBA, nor even be in the finals in my first season.

—It's just so unreal and I just can't be more grateful for the opportunity I've been given. But at the same time, I know I'm here for a bigger purpose. Representing women everywhere, showing them that anything is possible if you put your mind to it. I'm ready to make history and show the world that no dream is too big."

Lisa nods at your words, moving the microphone back to her to ask another question. "Did you feel a lot of pressure on yourself being the first woman in the NBA? If so, did you use that to your advantage and how did you?"

You glance around before answering. "I didn't feel pressure because I knew I was capable. In fact, I embraced it and used it to fuel my drive to succeed. I never let the fact that I was a woman stop me from aiming for the highest achievements."

A crowd begins forming around you which includes your teammates, coaches, managers, and family members. You spot Eli in the crowd and he brings you into a tight hug, and whispers in your ear, "You did it! Congratulations!" He holds you tightly for a few seconds, and then pulls away, patting your chest. You nod at his words, smiling at your best friend.

"You almost got us in the conference finals." Eli gave you a mischievous smile and winked. "Next year, we'll get our get back on you and LaMelo." He laughs. You grin and playfully punch his shoulder. "You think you can handle us?" you asked. "Bring it on," he replied confidently.

Your eyes then meet the ones you've been looking for this entire night. Jenna blows you a kiss as she walks toward you. You dramatically drop your jaw, holding a hand over your heart.

Eli laughs at your reaction. You laugh, eyes still fixed on Jenna. She slowly moves closer, her arms outstretched. You lift her up, spinning her around in a circle. You both laugh, and Eli makes his way over to your parents. Jenna presses her lips to yours, and you swear you can feel sparks between you.

You reluctantly pull away, a giddy smile on your face. You look around, and you can tell your parents and Eli are all sharing the same joy. You have found something special in Jenna, and it feels like it is something that will never fade away. Your parents begin walking to you, holding someone out for you to take.

You smile at your son, who looks as lost as ever and taking him from your parent's grasp. He looks up at you, his eyes brown doe eyes wide. You rock him a bit, smiling at him before you glance at your parents. They smile back at you, proud of who you've become and how much you've accomplished.

Even though you having a child was a complete shocker and scared the living hell out of them, they couldn't be more proud of the parent you have become. They're happy that the two people they care about so much have found peace in each other, and that you have created a beautiful family.

They are confident that you will be able to provide and care for your child with unconditional love. They are relieved and happy that you have found each other and are creating a loving home.

Jenna smiles at you and Kian, taking in the sight of her family. You smile back, feeling a wave of relief and joy. You hug your child tightly, grateful for the opportunity to be a parent. You know that together, you will all be okay.

Jenna laughs at Kian, "He's like what's going on right now? He's so lost." You laugh with her, wiping a bit of drool off his lips. "I know right." Kian looks up at you both with a wide, toothless grin.

You and Jenna both awe at the sight, the innocence of his smile warming your hearts. Jenna leans in and gives him a kiss on the forehead. "He's so cute," she says. Eli speaks up. "I've smiled at you before Jenna and I never got a kiss on the forehead."

Jenna giggles and looks up at Eli with a twinkle in her eye. "That's because you're not as cute as Kian," she says, laughing a bit. Eli just rolls his eyes and then laughs along with the rest of them before taking Kian from you. Eli lowers his voice, whispering into Kian's ear. "If you weren't so cute, I'd fight you about it."

Kian grins and wraps his chubby arms around Eli's neck. Jenna and everyone else laughs as Eli kisses Kian's chubby cheeks. "You're the cutest, Kian," he says, laughing.

Your parents then come over and congratulate you, pulling you into tight hugs as happy tears fall down their faces. It was more than obvious that they felt like they had accomplished something extraordinary. They were so proud of you for all your hard work and dedication. They had seen you grow and mature and were relieved to see you reach your goals.

"We're so proud of you honey." You smiled, clearly overcome with emotion. You couldn't believe that your hard work had finally paid off. You thanked your parents for their unwavering support and encouragement throughout your journey.

Your dad shrugs you off, giving you a warm smile. "It's all you, kid." He pats your shoulder and you can't help but beam with pride. You knew that your parents were always there for you, and you are so grateful for their love and support.

Now back at home with Jenna, Kian, and Eli, you sit in the living room with a bowl of ice cream on your lap. You take a spoonful of the ice cream before sending a glare at Eli, "Please shut the heck up." He smiles, "Look at you! Being a good mom and not cursing in front of your son."

You shook your head and smiled. Kian just continued to crawl on the large black carpet that covered the marble flooring in your living room, oblivious to the bickering between his mom and his uncle.

Jenna walks into the living room, smiling. "Why don't you bother Olivia and not me?" Eli rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch. "She's on tour! I miss my girlfriend."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You know she's coming back soon." Eli sighs, closing his eyes. "I know. I'm just impatient." Kian looks up, clapping his hands and squealing with laughter.

"Kian!" Kian's head turns at the sound of Jenna's voice, his face lighting up. Jenna kneels down on the carpet and opens her arms to Kian. "He's so whipped man." You mumble, Eli nods in agreement, "I would be too."

You send another glare at Eli before throwing a pillow at his face. Kian lifts himself with help from the leather couch in front of him, taking his first-ever step. Eli ducks the pillow and laughs, while Kian continues to walk to his mom. You sit up in your seat, a huge smile on your face.

Jenna's face matches yours, encouraging Kian to keep walking. "C'mon, baby, come." Kian's movements are still unsteady, but he manages to make it to his mom's.

Jenna gives you a look as her eyes begin to water, and you feel your heart swell with pride. You look at Eli and he smiles, his eyes twinkling with joy. "Oh, my flip-flop," Eli mutters, shocked as he just watched his nephew take his first steps.

Jenna bursts into tears of joy and pulls Kian in for a tight hug. Kian wraps his arms around his mother, his little face filled with joy. You stand up from the couch, walk over to Jenna and Kian, and wrap your arms around the both of them, Eli joins in, jumping up and down in joy.

"He walked! He walked!" Eli says, still jumping up and down. He soon stops, smiling at Kian. "Hi, five!" Kian reaches out his hand, and Eli eagerly gives him a high five. They both laugh, and Eli pats Kai on the back. "You did great!" he says, taking him from Jenna's arms.

"I think he just stole our son," you mutter to Jenna. Kian giggles as Eli carries him around the room. Jenna smiles and takes your hand in hers. "He's in good hands," she says, and you both laugh.

She then takes your hand, leading you into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. "How does it feel being the first woman in the NBA and leading your team to a championship?"

You pause and take a deep breath, looking at Jenna before responding. "It feels amazing," you say, squeezing her hand. "I'm so proud of what I've accomplished, and I'm so lucky to have you and Kian here with me."

Jenna looks lovingly at you and says, "We're all so proud of you. You've worked hard and it's paid off." She gives your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it, a warm smile on her face. You smile back at her, bringing her into a kiss.

You hold each other close and savor the moment. You feel a wave of gratitude and love for Jenna, "I love how you get me." You mumble against her head, swaying her back in forth.

She looks deep into your eyes and holds your face in her hands, "I love you too, my love." You kiss one last time and pull away, feeling an indescribable peace.

taglist - @alexkolax @raven-ss @godsfavouritelesbiann @jennasslut @niqmandu @amburntfreeman @returnnofdamac @starry-night17 @get-the-fuck-outta-here @morganismspam23 @tai-hdg @crazyoffher2

[helplesslypurple77]

~my spirits sleeping somewhere cold~

Summary: The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding.

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled. You choke up lily petals in the bathroom."

Warnings: Hanahaki, angst, major character death, religious symbolism, i'm not religious, flower language.

Notes: this is something, i guess. I've been in really bad shape emotionally lately, and money’s been really tight so all the stress is just welling up i guess. That's part of the reason I topped my other au week thin, I'm just not in the mood to craft plots and write smut. I don't know. 

Title from ‘Jar of Hearts’ by Christina Perry

...

The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding. 

There's a yawning ache in your chest, a cavity that will never be filled. You don't want to get up. You don't want to suffer. You wish god would take you instead of him. But God is not a merciful creature, that you have come to know all too well. 

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled.

You choke up lily petals in the bathroom.

𓇢𓆸

Your cross sits heavily against your breast, under your shirt. You don't typically wear one, the responsibility of God's eyes is too much for you to bear. 

But today you wear it in repentance. 

There's a tickle in your lungs, underwhelming compared to the aching gap in your chest. He’s stolen your heart, taken it with him in death. You turn your eyes to the sky, so as not to ruin your makeup with tears. 

You hate yourself for your pathetic lovesick nature. Yellow petals are choking up your throat, daffodils and chrysanthemums. You spit them into the grass before you enter the detective agency.

You don't need to burden them with your plight. At least not yet. 

𓇢𓆸

You look up the meanings of the flowers when you're in the office, your fingers trembling as you read the words. 

Lilys, purity. Daffodils, rejection. Chrysanthemums, slighted love. You choke down the tickle in your throat, closing the tabs with shaky fingers. 

“The meaning of flowers?” It's Ranpo, pearing curiously over your shoulder. You force a smile, perfect in your broken heart. 

“My friend wants a bouquet.” You tell him, shooing him away too his work. 

And as he meanders off, you congratulate yourself. At least until the petals choke up your throat and you slope away discreetly to the bathroom.

You throw up petals into the toilet. 

𓇢𓆸

A week after the incident you choke up an entire flower. It hurts, the thorny stems of a small rose, its petals a dark unnatural black. You crumple the delicate petals in your hand, muffling your tears into a towel before quickly reapplying your makeup. Covering your dark circles. You haven't been sleeping. 

Death's heavy hand is hovering over your head, weighing you down with the weight of your sin. The sin of eternal love. The sin of pure devotion. 

He stands behind you, death. With his hand on your shoulder, taunting you. He laughs at your misery, at your pain. He plays his melodies of death, his requiem, his Lacrimosa, truly a lady of sorrow. You shed enough tears and pain to be allowed the title, although you have yet to birth the son of god. You don't think you will. You know your death is around the corner. It will come when the bells toll, when the stems growing in your lungs eat at your insides. The pain drives you mad. You choke up as many flowers as you can before you leave for work. 

𓇢𓆸

“Name?” Atsushi says, his hands clutching the papers in his hands. He's a kind boy, cute and sweet. You spare him a small smile, biting back the petals in your throat. The boy shuffles his feet nervously. 

“Are you doing ok?” Atsushi asks, the question almost too much for your delicate sensibilities. You almost cry, try8ing your best to give him a smile. 

“Im doing well.” You reply, the weight of the lie hanging heavy on your chest, the cold metal of the cross judging you.

The boy leaves, called away but he still eyes you, worried.

You wish you fell for Atsushi instead, for his kindness, for his selflessness. 

𓇢𓆸

They're getting suspicious. This you know. But you smile and keep your mouth shut and muffle your choking as much as you can. You don't need to burden them any more than you already have. You must die without a fuss. 

You had long ago learned how to fool Ranpo, how to get around his almost all knowing intellect. For the key was withholding the crucial fact. Because he could not come to a conclusion without it, and you were sick in your misery. You could never burden them. Never bear to see their eyes of disappointment, their eyes of confusion.

‘How could you love him?’ you were sure they would say. 

You couldn't explain, you didn't know yourself. 

And then you couldn't stop the flowers that ripped out of your throat, spilling onto the office floor. The white petals of the lilies were stained red with blood. 

You didn't see much as you fainted. 

𓇢𓆸

You wake in the infirmary, a worried circle of your coworkers surrounding you. The worry on their faces almost makes you sob. You bite back the lilies as Yosano waves them away.

They file out single files, varying looks of confusion on their faces. The door slams. 

“How long do you have left?” It's Yosano, arms crossed, eyes disapproving. 

“About two weeks.” your voice is rough, choked. A petal falls from your lips.

“Is there no solution?” Yosano asks you, her voice choked with emotion. The sigh that escapes your lips is more than a thousand words.

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.” 

Yosano wipes her tears before you see them. 

“Rest.” She says, closing the door behind her.

𓇢𓆸

The meeting is solem, confused eyes meeting red rimmed eyes. All the eyes turn to Yosano as she enters the room, her own eyes red. Fukuzawa is the first one who dares the speak, from his place at the head of the table. 

“What is going on.”

Yosano sinks into a chair, hand scrubbing at her eyes. The words she speaks are damning.

“Hanahaki.” 

The room sinks into a tense silence, a broken silence, a confused silence. The emotions are a whirl in the room, the atmosphere choking, cloying, unpleasant. Someone muffles a sob into their clothes, Kenji or Atsushi or Naomi, it doesn't matter. Yosano composes herself, dropping plain information on the people in the room. 

“She's choking on Lilies and Daffodils, and she won't last much longer.” She says, the words plain and almost cruel. Kenji curls up into himself, his head resting on his knees. Kunikida, sitting beside him, pats his back. 

“Who is it?” It's Atsushi, his voice choked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The room is suddenly silent, waiting with bated breaths for the escape, the hope that this could end. Yosano hates to break their fragile hope, but she repeated the words you had said to her. 

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.”

𓇢𓆸

The green bottle sitting in your hand is your escape. Arsenic is a simple plan, easy to execute, to end your suffering. The lilies are choking your throat. You want to escape.

There are letters on your bed, piled around you, addressed to the ones you love. You don't want to leave them, but you don't want to suffer, 

The bottle is your escape. 

With a pop of finality, with a last look at the world around you, you drink the poison. It's tasteless, coloreless, odorless. 

It lulls you into your final sleep. You can see him, your doomed love. Fyodor, standing on the other side. You slip into death with open arms, broken hearted but peaceful. 

𓇢𓆸

Something is wrong. Atsushi feels it, the weight on his chest, the knowledge that you, a trusted coworker and beloved friend are going to die. And theres nothing to be done about it. The meeting is silent, as the words sink in, and then, it is exposed.

People are talking, arguing, yelling over each other, words and questions and angry accusations. Atsushi covers his ear, tears welling in his eyes. 

And then, that feeling, that horrible dawning feeling that something is wrong. Almost silent, he stands, slipping out of the infirmary door, Ranpo and Yosano on his heels. He can see the dread painted on their faces, the same dread that wells in his stomach, which eats him out from the inside. The hallway is short, the infirmary door at the very end, but it feels like forever, like the hallway will never end and you’ll die out of reach. 

But finally, they reach the door. 

It's quiet in the infirmary, the bed that you lay in still, letters scattered neatly around your body. You're too still. Atsushi flies forward, the other on his heels. 

Your face is serene in death, the lilies and chrysanthemums scattered around you, a makeshift memorial. There's a bottle beside your hand, empty. The label is a death sentence. 

“Arsenic.” its Ranpo, choked up and angry, his fists by his sides. Atsushi chokes on a sob. 

The infirmary door opens with a crack, the others joining them. The entire room hangs in a state of disbelief, of despair. And then the accusations fly. 

It's loud. Atsushi covers his ears, eyes dripping small tears onto the floor of the infirmary. He feels weak when he cries, but he’s sure the orphanage director will spare him this much. 

𓇢𓆸

You left them letters. Personal letters addressed to each of them, and even some for the port mafia members. They read them in the meeting room, solemn and silent. 

But there's one letter that sticks out, an unaddressed, blank envelope. They know they shouldn't open it. But they do, and it confirmed their fears and biases. 

For there are only a few words on the paper, a few damning words. 

“From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.” 

𓇢𓆸

They bury you with Lilies, Carnations, and tears. The finality of death painted on your face.

...

Endnotes: I don't know, this exists now. The Raven is a favorite of mine, ever since i read it in middle school. Edgar Allan Poe(the real one) was one fucked up dude

also i know its a little cringy to bend on a poem but i honestly don't care

(also i wholeheartedly believe Fyodor is not dead, but im still crying over it. pathetic i know)

[roanniom]

Listen I'm using voice to text on my way home from work because I had a thought and I immediately said oh my God I have to send you an ask so I'm thinking comfortably mid-20s post high school. Eddie who has taken over running the local record store You walk in and Joan jett's. I Love Rock and roll comes on to the old rock radio station that he plays in the background because at this point the song is about 10 years old and you think that he's walked into the back room or there's nobody else in there and so you start singing it out loud. He walks out of the back room to you, singing the chorus of that song almost at full volume and immediately he's falling in love with you.

Please do with that thought what you will. Love you 💕💕

Claire. Light of my life. Fellow fantasizer of my fantasies.

This. Is. Brilliant. I can see it now.

The Record of You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader  

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected PIV sex

You don't think anything of the fact that nobody seems to be in the shop. The old owner Mr. Jenkins has been ancient since you were a child, often leaving the shop unattended for long stretches of time. Fully trusting the citizens of Hawkins to not rob him blind while he ate a tuna sandwich with his dog Jitters in the upstairs portion that served as his apartment.

You haven't been in town for a while so you don't know that Eddie Munson has taken over management of Hawkins' singular record store. You haven't seen him since he finally managed to finish high school and ended the night of graduation celebrating with his older friends Steve, Robin, and Nancy out at the bar at the end of main street (the younger kids who always seemed to follow him around like little lambs obviously couldn’t join in on that phase of the festivities). He had insisted on buying you a drink when he saw you - his smile wide and fueled by joy and PBR - and you ended up hanging out with him and his friends until the wee hours of the night. 

His arms had remained respectfully, if not familiarly, around your shoulders at first. But as time went on and the drinks continued to flow, his arms found themselves wound around your waist. His hands found your hips. Your thighs. Your ass as he stepped behind you at the bar to call out “whatever the good lady wants, she gets!”

One thing led to another and you ended up in the back of his van as the dawn cracked, hazy and bruising in the sky. Both still fully clothed, Eddie had kissed you and kissed you until you were breathless and giggly. He sat you in his lap and ran his hands up and down your spine, pulling you down against him to feel how much you were affecting him. 

But then the sun came up. And you told him the thing you weren’t telling him. About the flight you had to New York in just a few hours. The job you had lined up at a company larger than any Hawkins brick and mortar could ever fathom. You’d watched his face fall, but then his smile returned, even more blinding than before, as he congratulated you and wished you the best. 

When you’d climbed out of his van, you’d urged yourself not to look back over your shoulder. Eddie was just a guy you’d grown up with. You’d never been particularly close - hellos in the halls at school that turned into waves at the grocery store and small talk at the gas station. But on this night you’d tasted him. Felt his hands on you. If you looked back you’d see the dimples you’d never noticed until a few hours prior. See the frizzy hair whose texture you now knew. And it would make it harder to walk away. 

So you didn’t look back.

And you haven’t seen Eddie since.

So you have no idea he's in the back room stacking boxes of tapes and records when you walk into the record store and start perusing all these years later. The song that’s playing in the background comes to an end, leaving the customary beat of scratchy silence before the all too familiar opening notes of Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock and Roll” starts blaring from the speakers.

You laugh a little to yourself. This was your absolute favorite song in high school, and you’d yelled along to it religiously any time it had come on, in any circumstance. 

As the first verse begins to play out, you try to resist, but it’s a lost cause. You start out just mumbling along to the lyrics. But before you know it you’re singing along at top volume as you thumb through records. 

You don’t notice Eddie walk out of the back room, almost dropping an armful of records when he recognizes who’s singing in his store. 

You get all the way to the end of the song without noticing his presence. In fact, by the end you’re even dancing around a bit. Eddie’s put down the records by this point, leaning against the check out counter with a massive grin on his face, enjoying the show. It isn’t until the song ends and the sound of clapping makes you whirl around that you realize you’re not alone. 

“Forgive the intrusion, princess. Where can I pay for my ticket? Because a concert like that sure ain’t free.”

~*~

You spend an hour catching up with him. Hearing all about what he’s been doing and telling him everything that’s happened - good and bad - with your big time job. When you mention that big city living just wasn’t for you and that you’re here planning on moving back to Hawkins full time, you wonder if you’re imagining the glint of satisfaction in his eye. 

After you’ve been speaking for a while he insists on closing up shop and making you dinner. You try to resist, telling him you can’t cut into his hours of operation, but he’s already flipping the sign on the door to say closed and grabbing your hand to drag you up the steps, ranting about how the Hawkins Welcome Committee would fine him if they found out he had a chance to welcome back a resident and didn’t take it. 

Since taking over for Mr. Jenkins, Eddie’s been able to move out of his uncle’s trailer and into the upstairs apartment. Your heart swells taking in the ratty but homey decor that just feels so utterly Eddie. You’d always felt like Eddie Munson deserved better than the shitty circumstances life had thrown at him. You’re pleased to find that life seems to have taken a turn for the better. 

Eddie doesn’t have much in his sparse kitchen, but he whips up a respectable pot of pasta which he serves on mismatched plates. 

“I don’t have any wine or any of the shit that a classy lady like yourself would enjoy, unfortunately.” In spite of the humor in his words, he does seem genuinely disappointed that he can’t offer you anything nicer than one of the dozen PBRs he has in the fridge or a mug full of some shitty whiskey left over in his cupboard. 

You happily accept the PBR, clinking it against his can when he raises it, laughing at the watery taste as it goes down. You haven’t laughed this much in a long time. You haven’t felt this warm and full and good in a long time. 

Soon the sun has set outside the windows and you both have migrated into the living area. He’s on the couch next to his record player, loading up record after record. You’re on the floor next to him, reclining back against the seat cushions and listening as he rants about his current favorite bands. He’s always been so passionate. So fiery. It’s what you’ve always enjoyed about him from afar. That part of him has remained the same. So has his long hair and his worn out tee - though he’s switched out his customary Hellfire shirt for a Metallica one these days - and you can’t help but settle into the comfort of his constancy. His consistency. 

His rings sparkle in the dim lighting of his apartment as he gesticulates wildly and his smile is wide as he continues explaining all about the modern state of metal. After a while it all gets to be too much. A lump is forming in your throat. A tension in your muscles. You hoist yourself up to join him on the couch and wait a beat, watching him hesitate and stop speaking at your sudden change of position. 

“Eddie,” you breathe. Not really saying anything other than his name. Then you launch yourself at him. You fist your hands in his shirt and pull him to you, mashing your lips against his. His mouth tastes of stale beer but you’ve never loved a taste more in your life. 

For a second he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. In fact, he doesn’t even return the kiss for a few heartbeats, so surprised he is by your sudden attention. But then he’s kissing you back, and his arms are winding around your waist. His hands find your hips, your thighs, your ass. 

When his tongue enters your mouth you moan, completely uninhibited. Full volume, just like when you were singing in the record store earlier. You’re past the point in your life where you silence yourself and your reactions. You’ve lived a lot of life in these last few years and you deserve to enjoy things without being limited by doubt and self-censorship. 

You rock against him, because you’ve climbed into his lap at this point, and suddenly you’re right back where you were in his van all those years ago. 

And Eddie must be on this same internal time traveling journey because when you break away from him, panting, to paint kisses on his throat, he gasps out a question. 

“Do you ever - think of that night. In my van?”

“I do,” you say into his skin. You hadn’t fixated on it. Hadn’t lost sleep pining over him. You’d been off and on to a different life at the time. But you’d be lying, or at least lying by omission if you didn’t tell him the true extent. “Sometimes I still get myself off to the thought of it.”

You’re ripped from his throat so suddenly you swear you get whiplash. 

“You...get yourself...”

“Off. Yes,” you confirm, smiling as you realize how flustered he’s getting. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans out, surging forward and capturing your lips again. His hands wander with less hesitation now. He’s gripping and groping and it feels great. He feels solid and whole beneath you and around you and you want...

“More,” you breathe into his open mouth. 

“Want to finish what we started, princess?” He asks, holding your chin to look into your eyes. You nod feverishly. Glad to see he’s no longer flustered. He’s got a smile on his face and his hands are pulling at your clothes. 

Your jeans and top are discarded swiftly, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties. Onces you’ve helped Eddie divest himself of everything but his black boxers, you climb back into his lap, resuming your previous motion of grinding down into him.

This is exactly what you were doing last time, but this time there are far fewer layers between you. You can feel the stiffness of his member no longer stifled but his jeans, rubbing at the apex of your thighs in the most delicious way. 

“You feel so good,” you practically whimper, rolling your hips to find the friction you need. Eddie guides you with his hands at your waist, helping you find a rhythm that has you both shuddering. 

“I’m not even inside you yet, baby,” he chuckles. You look him dead in the eye. 

“What are you waiting for?” Your smirk is challenging. You’re trying to rile him up. And it works. 

“You know now that you mention it...” he quips, and suddenly you’re being lifted and turned around. He bends you over the arm of the sofa, pushing your knees apart to widen your stance, your ass in the air. “I guess I’m not waiting for anything.”

“Eddie!” you chide with a laugh. His hands grab at the rounded curves of your ass with a light slap and he pulls you back against his pelvis as he shuffles up behind you. He rubs his clothed cock back and forth against your fabric-covered pussy and you moan, shifting your hips down to try and get him to hit your clit.

“Impatient?” He sounds amused and you pout. 

“I think I’ve been more than patient up till now,” you argue. 

“I know, baby, I know.” You feel him peel your underwear off of you and you shuffle your knees to aid him in removing the garment all together. You hiss out a gasp when you suddenly feel his cock, uncovered and warm against you, pushing at your pussy. Now it is his turn to hiss. “Are you always this beautifully wet or are you just happy to see me?”

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson,” you say with a laugh, rolling your eyes. Your eyes cross mid-roll, however, when suddenly he’s pushing into you. You keen forward. “Oh fuckohfuckohfuck.”

“Thought you were done being patient,” he teases, though his own words are strained. 

“Don’t make me - oh god! Wait so long next time!” you gasp. Eddie hears the promise inherent in those words but tries not to focus too much on it, lest he lose his cool immediately. He goes to work thrusting into you evenly, learning the way your body reacts. The things that make you pitch forward. The touches that have you biting the side of your fist to keep from screaming. Eventually that gets on his nerves. 

“Don’t hold it in. Wanna hear you, princess,” he says, hauling you up so that you’re both up on your knees, his chest to your back. 

“Well, I wanna see you,” you respond. You expect Eddie to throw you around again, but instead he eases out and turns you carefully, gently. He sits back against the couch cushions with his feet planted on the ground, pulling you into his lap. Right now you’re back in that very familiar position, with you grinding into his lap just as you had done earlier tonight - just as you had done that night in his van. 

But this time he lifts you up and brings you back down on his cock. Your hands come to fist in his hair and you cry out at the delicious stretch. 

“Thaaat’s it,” he encourages, dropping kisses on your neck, the hollow at the base of your throat, your collar bone. “Let me hear you, baby.”

“Eddie. Oh my - oh fuck.”

“You sound so pretty. Almost as pretty as you did putting Joan Jett to shame in the store earlier,” he chuckles. You let out a shaky laugh and try to bury your face in his neck but he doesn’t let you. “No more hiding, babygirl.”

As you get closer and closer to climax, you start to lose strength in your thighs and it becomes harder to lift yourself up and down on his cock. Eddie seems to notice this and he takes a firm hold on the underside of your ass and begins bouncing you up and down on him. The momentum, coupled with his upward thrusts, have you moaning all over again.

“Holy - oh fuck Eddie. Right there don’t slow down,” you whine, even as you know you’re so spent that your muscles can’t contribute much to the exertion for which you are begging. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact he seems like he’s on cloud nine taking in your bouncing breasts and your fucked out expression. 

“Right there, baby? Yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Hold onto me, princess. I’ve got you,” he says through gritted teeth and do hold onto him. You grasp at his flexing arm and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging as the ripple of your orgasm heats your belly. 

When you cum, you recognize in a distant part of your brain that the record Eddie had put on earlier is still playing. The music adds ambience to the moment but you can’t quite make it out. It’s simply background for the music of your gasps and moans and chorus of “Eddie!”s.

And as Eddie cums and adds his own guttural groans and cries of your name to the din, you realize that there’s no other song you’d rather hear play on repeat. 

~*~

Tiny tag list of some people who have publicly reacted to my Eddie thirsting: @millenialcatlady @theoncrayjoy @cowboy-kylo @addiiscryingrn @sacklerscumrag @shesthegirlnextdoor1 @ginnylupin