#happy birthday little leaf < 3

[ghostsessioned]

room for one more !

[carlyraejepsans]

i don't think I've ever enjoyed a birthday party with friends as much as today i am genuinely getting a bit teary eyed

[gracieheartspedro]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday! Could you continue the naruto daughter of the homage series?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Naruto doesn’t feel comfortable going back to the tower until the Suna kids have collected their scroll and arrived. Gaara had killed nine people – three teams total – in that time. None of them Konoha, thankfully, but that’s mostly due to her team and Itachi engaging in some creative luring and misdirection. The Konoha Twelve can be redirected outright by one of her clones, but the other leaf genin that she doesn’t know as well have to be lured rather than instructed. Getting their own scroll is more an afterthought than anything else.

They probably should have thinned the herd a little more. Now they’re having preliminary matches, which is just another chance for Gaara to kill one of her shinobi.

Great.

“Is that Orochimaru?” Sakura hisses, looking up at the spectator box. “Isn’t he a missing nin?”

Naruto flickers her glance upward, but she’d already known he was attending. What does surprise her are the two people by his side. “Yeah, but he’s also the Otokage, and one sort of trumps the other. Dad gave up on that one a long time ago, and Sarutobi still likes him besides. That’s not the interesting part.”

Jiraiya sends intelligence back to the village frequently enough, but she’s never thought she’d seen Tsunade back in the village.

~

Orochimaru is already bored.

He barely attends chunin exams when they’re in his own village. But Kabuto had given him an interesting report, and he hasn’t seen Minato in something like fifteen years, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, Anko is proctoring a portion of the exam, and she always complains that he doesn’t visit.

Jiraiya found out, somehow, which was bad enough, but then the traitor told Tsunade, and the two idiots insisted on coming with him for some reason.

Probably because they were worried Minato might try to arrest him, which is frankly insulting. He can and will kick that kid’s ass if he has to.

Hm. Maybe that’s what they’re intending to prevent, on second thought.

Minato’s daughter has her father’s coloring and her mother’s bone structure.

“I’m surprised she’s made it this far,” Jiraiya murmurs.

Kushina throws him an irritated glance, but the white knuckled grip she has on her armrests seems to imply she agrees with him. Minato doesn’t look at either of them, not that he’s looked at Kushina at all. There’s really no point in them playing the part of happy couple in front of foreign ninja if they can’t commit to the deception.

“She’s got a solid stance,” Tsunade says. “Don’t need working chakra coils for that, I suppose.”

Minato’s lips thin, but he keeps his silence.

“Gaara of Suna versus Rock Lee!” shouts Hayate, pausing to cough halfway through.

Orochimaru leans forward now that something interesting is finally happening.

It’s not as immediate of a bloodbath as he thought it’d be. Lee holds out, demonstrating a mastery of taijutsu truly can make up for an awful lot. He fiddles with the weights on his wrist, but then he glances up. It seems as if he’s looking at his sensei, who’s shouting encouragement, but standing just to the left of them is Team Seven.

Naruto’s lips tug down at the side and she shakes her head just slightly, the movements so small thar Orochimaru wouldn’t notice them if he wasn’t focusing on her.

Lee’s shoulders droop even as he backflips to avoid another deadly arm of sand. He’s not even close to exhausted, and he’s lasted longer against Gaara than anyone else has, but he raises his arm and says, “I surrender.”

Everyone is stunned, an air of disbelief surrounding them.

Gaara acts like he hasn’t heard, more sand barreling for Lee. Hayate moves to interfere, but he’s a lot slower than that sand is.

There’s a smudge of yellow across the arena, there and gone, taking Lee with it.

Orochimaru turns, expecting to see Minato’s seat empty, but he’s still there, eyebrows raised.

He frowns, looking back down, and Naruto is back out of the arena, putting Lee back on his feet. “It seems you didn’t hear him!” she shouts, grin so wide her eyes are slits.

“I didn’t know you taught her the Flash,” Jiraiya says.

Kushina stares between her husband and her daughter, eyebrows pushed together.

“Yes,” Minato says stiffly, “well.”

Interesting.

It appears Kabuto’s report was accurate.

[upsidedownmvnson]

I love Eddie's little somethings, what would his reaction be when he finds out that you keep all the things he's made for you, you've pressed, dried, and kept a lot of flowers he got for you and stuck them in a scrapbook etc

STOP - they're talking about this post &lt;3 but specifically this one;

when [eddie's] meant to give you gift (birthdays/holidays etc) he prefers to make something. one time he recorded two cassettes of himself playing all your favourite songs, one slow, instrumental & acoustic for studying, and one how they were meant to be sang for jamming. he's also made a popsicle stick diorama of your childhood tree fort that was torn down, and a DnD campaign on your birthday based on your favourite fantasy movie

so i imagine that eddie is like a outside cat

he finds shiny trinkets and brings them to you, the spoils of his adventures. but then curl up on your lap lol

he'd bring you anything, a pretty flower (or weed), a pinecone that looked funny, a pretty leaf, and he doesn't think you'll want them... he just likes to show you stuff

one day he's waiting for you in your room, you just had to run across the street to grab something for your mother from a neighbour, he couldn't come because he wasn't supposed to be over when your parents aren't home

and he's poking around for fun

not spying or snooping, you always let him look through your things bc you have nothing to hide, when the spine of a book catches his eye

it looks like a photo album, but when he pulled it out he wasn't surprised to see a picture of the two of you stuck to the front, and also little heart stickers. it was your favourite picture, eddie was in his throne, and you were across his lap, legs flopping over the armrest. you were both smiling so wide for the picture, because it had been the day eddie made a dnd campaign based on your favourite movie for your birthday, and you two had exchanged your first 'i love yous' in front of hellfire because you couldn't contain your love anymore (i should write a full imagine for this me thinks)

but when he opened it he realized it was a scrap book

the inside cover page was your character from that day (your fav character from the movie)

and the next page was filled with flowers, all pressed flat and dry, assembled intricately around post-it notes, taped down with little passages on them. some were quotes. some were reasons you loved eddie. some were little memories you didn't want to forget.

he was so fixated on the book that he had to sit down, his eyes glossing over from reading all the sweet things you thought about him

it was more real, seeing things you'd written without assuming eddie would see it. it was your real, pure feelings for him.

he flipped thru the pages to find all sorts of things like that. notes he'd written you & left in your locker or passed to you in class. tickets to movies or shows you'd gone to.

a tear landed on the page, and it shocked eddie. he was crying. he was so happy. it made no sense to him, how someone like you could invest all your time and love into him.

his heart was so full

"awh, baby," you'd say from the doorway, leaning on it. "it wasn't supposed to make you cry."

and he'd discard the book beside him, saying nothing but opening his arms so you would come sit with him.

and of course you did, straddling him, and letting him bury his head in your shoulder. he sniffled, his shoulder shaking gently from the overwhelming feelings he was having. he'd never ever felt like this.

"it's beautiful, thank you for making that."

and he'd also collected everything you'd ever given him, and he would for sure be making one of this to keep at his house.

you would rub his hair, soothing him and whispering sweet things, reminding him that you love him, and more importantly that he was worth all the love. you wanted him to know he deserved it. deserved the whole damn world <3

"okay but check this out"

and you'd take him over to a shelf that had the popsicle stick diorama of your childhood treehouse and took it down.

he'd noticed it had a hinge on the back, but he hadn't put it there

you had carefully cut the glue to the roof so it could open like a hatch, and inside you'd made it even better, painting it to actually look like the fort, and adding some little doll furniture. it was an idea dustin had thrown out while they were making it but he'd never been inside.

he wanted to ask if it was accurate but there was more

there were all kinds of things stuffed in there, it looked like a squirrel was living in there.

and he realized it was the spoils of adventure that he'd brought you. pinecones, rocks, a fake quarter, the monopoly dog, a gum wrapper with a joke on it

and he wanted to cry again but he didn't, instead just put the treehouse away, and pulled you in for the biggest bear hug ever.

he picked you up and spun you around a few time, before walking you over to the bed so he could drop you on it, climbing on top of you to kiss you, and so eddie show you how much he really appreciated it

[venerawrites]

Hi! I feel so blessed to have found your blog, your fluff is top tier 🫶🏻 Can I please request fluff for Kakashi x fem!reader where they take their son (who looks exactly like Kakashi) to meet Team 7 and they're all enamoured by baby Kakashi and how happy he is with wife reader? I feel like it'd be so cute~ I hope that's an alright request. Thank you so much! 😘

author's note: this is such a cute request and it has been sitting in my drafts for a while, since I have been waiting to be in the right mood for it! It was such a pleasure to write it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you for requesting! <3

If there was anything Konoha did best, it was celebrating.

Compared to many of the other villages, the Leaf had some form of a festival almost every month. The first Sakura trees have blossomed? Celebration. The war is won? Celebration. The Hokage has a birthday? Celebration. 6 months without any outside threats? Celebration.

For the outsiders these constant festivities were both bizzare and a bit foolish. They could only imagine how much money were spend from the yearly budget, yet somehow the village blossomed economically. The other Kages tried to ask Lady Tsunade more than once in the past how exactly do they manage to do that, but they could never get anything more than a smug smile from her.

You, unlike your husband, loved a good party. During events like this everything felt different - the people were happier, the streets were busier, even the air felt more fresh! You have been waiting for the Spring festival for a while now - not only because you loved trying all the delicious street food, but also because this year you were taking your baby with you.

Being only a few months old, your son was an exact copy of Kakashi. His hair, his eyes, his nose, his lips, even the way he pouted was absolutely the same as your partner. There were times when you sat next to his crib, looking at him for hours, trying to find at least one thing in his appearance that he may took after you. While there were none, you found solace in the fact that he showed at least some traits of your personality - the main one being obsessed with Kakashi, of course.

As you watched your husband gently rocking your child in his arms and whispering sweet words to him, you couldn't stop the smile from spreading wide on your lips. Kakashi hasn't noticed your presence by the door yet, too busy booping your baby's nose and listening to his happy laughter.

He was definitely the favourite parent.

"I can't believe I carried him for nine months and I am still the second best in his eyes", you finally said, making Kakashi whip his head in the direction of your voice. He smiled sheepishly at you, his one free arm extending for you to take.

"You know that is not true, my dove", he tried to reassure you, his attention moving back to the bundle of joy who kept twitching in his grip, "No one can replace mommy! Isn’t that right, little man?"

Almost if understanding his words, the baby turned toward you, reaching one of his small hands toward your face. You immediately melted at the gesture, before carefully grabbing it in yours and lying numerous small kisses on his little fingers.

“Do we really have to go?”, your husband groaned, looking at you pleadingly. If it was up to him the three of you would stay in your house, enjoying a cosy evening just playing and goofing around the living room. With his new role as a Hokage, your time together was limited anyway and he liked to grab any chance he got to spend a few hours with you at home.

“You were the one that promised Naruto you would finally let him see the baby”, you cocked one of your eyebrows and Kakashi immediately shut his mouth, knowing he cannot argue further.

Even since you told Team 7 that you are pregnant, Naruto has shown an enormous enthusiasm about welcoming the baby. He self proclaimed himself “the best uncle to ever exist” and has bought dozen of plush toys and clothes before you even found what the gender is. Both you and Kakashi found this amusing, yet cute, promising him that he would be one of the first people to see your son once he is born.

However, things didn't go as planned and since he was on a mission outside Konoha for the last three months and a half, Naruto was now one of the last people to meet your child. Sakura has asked you countless of times during this period to let her and Sasuke come to your house, but feeling it was unfair to Naruto, you refused every single time.

Now that the blonde was back, however, all three were eagerly waiting to meet the young Hatake.

Kakashi gently passed you the baby, while he went to the corridor to grab the baby carrier wrap he liked to use. One thing about your husband was that he absolutely refused to use a pram.

"It is safer for them to be close to me", he often said, not even hiding his overprotectiveness. Despite your baby already being the village's favourite, he only allowed people to watch him, but never touch him or hold him. It was almost like your son was some kind of a rare jewel, which was so delicate, it had to be admired from a far. And while you found Kakashi's behaviour funny, he was being very serious about it, going as far as to glare and hiss a warning at Guy and Genma every time they tried to pinch your baby's chubby cheeks.

Once the little one was safely wrapped against your partner, you both made your way toward the village centre, where you could already hear music sounding. The streets were flooded with both adults and children, who were all eager to try some foreign food and watch special performances. Every year there were entertainers coming from different lands, performing traditional songs and dances from their cultures. While you knew you couldn't stay for all of them, since you had to put your child to bed quite early, you were excited to see at least some.

You felt one of Kakashi's arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him, while he shielded your son's body with the other one. While there were none real threats or risk for any of you, the amount of people made the man anxious. You were just about to grab his hand and try to make him relax, when Naruto's loud voice sounded from somewhere in front of you.

"Kakashi-sensei! Y/N! Over here!", he waved his hands energetically in the air, while both Sasuke and Sakura looked away embarrassed from his behaviour. Your smiled at the blonde, waving back, while your husband couldn't do anything else than let out a sigh.

Once you were a few meters away, the Uzumaki ran toward you, his whole face lighting up once his eyes met those of your son. He pushed past you, without even paying any attention to you, before leaning his head close to the baby's.

" Kakashi! That's your twin, dattebayo!", he shouted and moved his finger between his sensei and your son. Kakashi flicked his hand away, glaring harshly at his student. You sniffled a laugh, before you felt Sakura's hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you offered a smile to both her and Sasuke.

"Don't touch, step back and only watch from a distance", Kakashi instructed, his eyes narrowing at Naruto. The blonde, however, didn't acknowledge his words in any way, instead turning toward you.

"Can I hold him?", he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

"No!", Kakashi immediately answered for you and you rolled your eyes at your husband, before moving toward the males.

"Of course you can!", before your husband can protest, you gave him a stare and he reluctantly picked up your son from the carrier wrap. He held him in his hands for a few more seconds, eyeing Naruto with suspicion.

"Be very, very, VERY careful!", he said, while passing the wriggling baby to the boy's stretched out arms, "And make sure to support his head! No, not like that... Naruto, I swear to Kami-"

You cut off the white haired male's rambling by wrapping your arm around his waist and placing your head against his shoulder. The Uzumaki was doing just fine, but Kakashi being Kakashi started to panic just at sight of someone else holding your little treasure.

The baby seemed to like the blonde, as he giggled, stretching his small hand toward his face. Sakura, who has been patiently waiting for her sensei to relax a bit, immediately rushed to her teammate's side, uncapable of controlling herself longer. She wriggled her forefinger in front of the child's face, her heart melting once he caught it.

"Hello, little one! I am auntie Sakura!", the baby grinned at her with its toothless smile and she let out an "aww" sound, before turning to you and your husband, "Kakashi-sensei, he really is your exact copy! Y/N, are you sure that's your child?"

You laughed at her joke, before shrugging your shoulders and pressing yourself closer to Kakashi.

"Trust me, I ask myself that every single day!"

Finally tearing your gaze away from Naruto and Sakura, you looked over to Sasuke, who remained frozen in his place. His eyes were focused on the little baby and there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but unlike his teammates he maintained a safe distance. Feeling someone was watching him, he turned his head in your direction, his cheeks going bright red once he realized you caught him staring.

"Sasuke", you smiled at him and everyone's attention went to the Uchiha, "Do you want to hold him too?"

The dark haired male gulped, his eyes widening. He nervously scratched his shoulder, his gaze going down to his feet.

"I...", he became silent, stealing one more glance at the baby. You found it almost amusing how he was a fearsome ninja that could take dozen of enemies at the same time, yet he felt scared to hold a tiny human.

Looking over at Naruto, you nodded your head, signalling him to pass your son to Sasuke. The blonde let out a huff, dragging his feet toward his teammate.

"Be careful! And hold the head!", he warned the Uchiha, who rolled his eyes in response.

"I know how to hold a baby, dobe! I am not stupid!"

"Language!", Kakashi warned next to you and you looked up at him, only for him to shake his head. It must've been hard dealing with these two for so many years, yet you knew your husband wouldn't had it any other way.

At this moment, surrounded by so much love and happiness, you felt like you finally had everything you wanted in life - an amazing husband, a healthy child and enormous support by anyone around you. If you could choose to re-live only one moment of your life, it would be this.

"You okay, my dove?", Kakashi whispered and you nodded your head, laying a small kiss on his covered chin.

"Never been better."

Unbeknown to you, all of Team 7 smiled at both of you, admiring how happy their sensei was. After decades of suffering and loss, Kakashi took the leap of faith and opened his heart to you. While he was unsure in the beginning if he was ready to be with someone and have a family, looking back he was glad he did.

Pulling down his mask, he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, before nuzzling his nose against it.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

cc artwork: Pietro Smurra

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs.  They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends.  Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept. 

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

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[junkissed]

april 20th: pot luck

member — fwb!chan x f reader genre — smut, fwb to lovers word count — 3.2k synopsis — you're no stranger to smoking in the park on 4/20, but smoking in the park while chan begs you to let him make you cum? that's new. content warnings — marijuana use (smoking), there's angst for like 3 seconds but not really smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), fingering, sexual acts in a semi-public setting (they're in a secluded area of a park), sexual acts while high, shotgunning, chan is clingy & cute when he's high :) disclaimer — this story is a work of fiction. both chan and reader are portrayed as consenting adults above the legal age of 21. always make sure your partner is someone you trust and have talked with beforehand while sober. remember to practice safe, consensual sex! notes — requested by @angelwoozi 🧸!! this concept is going to sit in my brain forever now agsdjkfahsd i hope you like it! also tagging @bitchlessdino because it would be a sin if i didn't. happy 420!

you hold the pre-rolled joint between your fingers, watching the way the thin smoke spirals off the end of it. chan holds out his hand as you exhale, and you pass it back to him for him to take his turn.

it's the secluded end of the park, where the trees are thicker and shadier and the grass is always a little bit damp, even during hot summer afternoons. a cool breeze blows today, and distantly you can hear birds chirping and the shuffling footfalls of joggers making their way around the park's running paths.

you lay back, settling down on top of the worn, quilted picnic blanket you keep in your car. for the first time in a while the weather's been nice enough to draw you outside, spring gradually melting into summer.

he holds the joint out towards you but you wave him off, so he sets it at the edge of his ashtray, the little yellow painted one you made him for his birthday in a ceramics class from a few semesters ago.

chan leans back too, propping himself up on one elbow as he reaches for his water bottle absently.

laying on your back, you can see each leaf on the tree, and when the wind blows you can see bits of blue sky peeking through the swaying branches. you hear chan call your name, but you ignore him, just wanting to watch the world go by for a moment. or maybe, you just pretended to hear him call your name. you seem to do that a lot recently, imagining him doing things until you aren't sure what's real or dreamed.

ever since new year's eve when you accidentally on-purpose slept with him and then maybe kept sleeping with him for months afterward, nothing's been the same. despite the fact that you definitely like him as more than just a friend you have sex with, you’ve never talked about it with him because he seems more than fine with keeping things simple; you wish he didn’t, but you don’t want to push him, so you just stick to having sex and sharing your weed.

it turns out him calling your name was, in fact, real, because a few seconds later you see his figure looming over you, blocking your view of the leaves and the sky.

your words come out lilted. "what is it, chan?"

"can i eat you out?"

you blink slowly a few times, thinking and processing his sentence and repeating it in your head so many times until you'd forgotten what he'd actually said.

"eating what? we had tacos earlier. i’ll make you a sandwich or something when we go back, i told you you should’ve brought more snacks to munch on."

“noooooo.” he whines and flops down onto the blanket on his side. "wanna eat you," he grumbles. his fingers find your arm and begin drawing shapes and patterns along your skin as he waits for your response.

it finally clicks in your mind what he's asking, and with much effort you roll your head over to look at him. "why?"

"because it's a nice day outside," he says, fingers trailing down to your wrist. "and i like it. oh my god, you're so hot. like… woah. why wouldn't i want to?"

your heart jumps, and you can't tell if it's completely from his words or mixed with how stoned you are, but you feel so happy. he sounds almost affectionate.

you shift your legs, your pants starting to grow uncomfortable the more you begin to think about chan between your thighs. it's a sight you're familiar with, but one you can never quite seem to get used to.

you throw your arm over your head, tugging gently at the cool grass beneath your fingertips to ground you to earth. "but there's sooo many people out, chan," you say, a little more giddy than you intend. "you’re too high. somebody'll see."

he closes his eyes slowly and furrows his brow, thinking deeply.

"put your bag here, then," he says finally, rolling over onto his stomach to grab your tote bag from the edge of the blanket and haul it over to your hip. it was a good idea in theory, but in reality it barely covers a tiny part of your body, and it would only be effective at blocking his head from onlookers at a very specific angle.

his fingers brush over your thigh on accident, and you sigh, legs parting just slightly. chan doesn't seem to notice, though; he's latched himself to your arm again, tracing his name across your skin over and over like a kindergartener learning to write their name for the first time.

"you really want to?" you ask, peering over at him through foggy eyes but grinning when you see him now focused on the tiny hairs on your arm.

"yes, please," he hums, and he starts kissing the inside of your elbow along your forearm. his lips are warm and so, so soft, it feels like rays of sunshine tickling your skin. until he opens his mouth and he starts gnawing on you, biting gently at your arm.

you swat at the back of his head, and then once more, laughing at how silly he is. silly feels like the right word. silly how cute he is and silly how maybe you're a little bit in love with him.

"oka-ay," you say finally, tugging on his hair to get him to stop biting you. he rests his head on your stomach and gazes up at you with big, soft eyes, and you know there's nothing going on in his head right now. honestly, there's not much going on in yours either, but there's enough happening up there to know better than to not let him have what he wants.

you pull the bag closer to yourself and lift your hips, shifting your pants down just enough to expose the top of your thighs.

"don't let anybody see—" you start to say, but chan is already diving in. he shimmies down your body, positioning himself between your legs so that it would look like he's merely resting on top of you if anyone passing by were to steal a quick glance.

in your present state of mind, neither of you are quite as sneaky as you probably think. you can only pray no one walking around the park is paying much attention to their surroundings, though your spot is far enough away from the main paths that someone would have to be intentionally looking in order to find you.

one thing you know for sure is that chan is a messy eater. in the privacy of his apartment (or occasionally, yours) he'll spend hours between your legs, making out with your pussy until you're so exhausted and overstimulated that just the thought of another orgasm makes you shudder. usually he doesn't go that far, because at the end of it all he still wants to have his cock inside of you, but that doesn't ever stop him from making a complete mess of you anyways.

but to your surprise, when he kisses you over your underwear before pulling them down your hips, his lips are slow and gentle, like wading through water. you feel his fingers kneading your waist, and you realize belatedly that you've been tensed up. you'd been preparing for a fast, rough onslaught of pleasure but clearly chan has other plans today: taking his sweet time with you. and with how fuzzy your head feels right now, going slow is more than fine by you.

he flicks at your clit, laying his tongue flat and smoothing it over every inch of you before flicking again, and subconsciously you angle your hips upward, chasing his mouth. his spit covers your cunt, and when he moves his head back you can feel the breeze cooling the heat between your legs, sending a shiver up and down your spine.

you hear a shrill scream from behind you, and you tilt your neck back to see where the noise came from. upside down, you can see two kids distantly running around in the grass, playing a game.

you yank chan up by the back of his collar and pull your pants up as far as they'll go, ignoring the insane wedgie you've just given yourself as you scramble to look like you haven’t been doing anything suspicious.

you stay on your back, craning your head around to look at your surroundings. once you’re certain nobody’s around, your eyes settle on chan, who’s staring blankly back at you. his face glistens in the sunlight from the amount of wetness all over his face that he doesn't even seem to be aware of.

"wipe your mouth," you try to scold him, but the whole situation is suddenly so funny you can't help the laugh that comes out instead.

chan sits up, a little disoriented at first but he pushes through the clouds in his mind and finally brings his hand up to his face, swiping at his mouth once with the back of his hand. he looks around and he spies the ashtray with the half-smoked joint still sitting in it, and with a lazy grin he leans over to grab it, fumbling with his lighter to reignite it.

he takes a long, slow hit, and you're surprised he's not more out of breath from just having his face shoved in your pussy for what seemed like eternity.

he holds it out to you with a little grunt, and you finally find the energy to prop yourself up onto your elbows to take it from him. you inhale then breathe out a fine cloud of smoke as you pass it back to him, and he sets it back down, giggling to himself.

you smile, his laughter contagious with your already content mood. "what're you laughing at?"

he rolls his head around in a circle, staring off into the distance with a dopey grin on his face. "i… dunno," he answers finally, and he looks back at you, his eyes full of emotion you can't really understand fully.

"well, you almost got us caught, dummy," you tell him, an involuntary pout forming on your lips as you lay back down. "if you wanna have sex we should just go back to your apartment now."

"i don't want to," he whines, and you frown at him. he opens his mouth, stops and closes it again, then finally speaks, seemingly having gathered all his words together in the right order. "of course i always wanna have sex with you but right now i wanna make you cum first. like, right now, right now." he looks over at you again with those big, stupid, pretty eyes of his. "ple-ease?"

"but somebody might see again, channie. you can make me cum at home."

he shakes his head slowly. "but we still have to finish this, anyway," he protests, pointing at what's left of the joint.

you lose focus and stare off at the trees again, knowing he's right. you'll have to stay until it's out, then clean up your blanket and put away your stash, so it's not like you were gonna get home anytime soon then, right?

he turns towards you suddenly, his mouth half open like he's just thought of something crazy. he carefully transfers the joint to your hand, wrapping your fingers around the end of it. "how about i finger you, and you can hold this for me until you cum, and then we finish it and we go home and fuck. holding two birds with one stone."

you glance around, hoping nobody heard him loudly exclaim that he wants to finger you. you think about telling him to keep it down, or at least correct his attempt at a metaphor, but the words feel like too much effort and you're still weary from the almost-orgasm just a few minutes ago.

you stare at the object he had put in your hand for a second before you decide to take a drag, putting your other hand on chan's neck to pull him close so you can exhale the smoke into his lips.

clearly he wasn't expecting it, and he coughs a couple times, but he recovers and immediately goes in to kiss you again. he kisses you for so long it feels like he's never going to pull away, and when you do finally let go for a second it seems like he isn't even breathing.

he just sighs dreamily, his eyes still closed. "i love kissing you," he says, and the way he says it makes it sound so important.

you elbow him in the chest lightly to get his attention, and he lets out a little "oof!" and opens his eyes.

"hurry up so we can go home. i wanna suck your dick," you say, clearly deciding to let him have his way as you push your pants down once more.

his hand slides over your body, and the way he smiles when his two fingers make contact with your pussy gives you goosebumps. his touch feels heavenly, and you have to put all your focus on holding the joint upright so you don’t accidentally drop it. but it’s so hard to stay focused when you can feel his fingers so deep inside you, moving in and out and curling and scissoring and it drives you crazy.

at least in this new position, it’s not as obvious what you’re doing. with shaky hands you take another hit, a bigger one this time, trying to finish it as fast as you can so you can go home and not have to worry about being seen.

chan pushes a third finger into you and you hold back a whimper, wrinkling your nose in pleasure.

he opens and closes his mouth at you, and there’s a few seconds before your brain catches up and you realize he wants you to help him smoke while his hands are occupied. you carefully hold the joint up to his mouth and he wraps his lips around it.

the sight of him laying on his side, his hand cupping your cunt as you act like his personal helper is hotter than you expect it to be, and you clench around his fingers, heat burning in your abdomen.

he sucks in a sharp breath and leans his head away from your hand to cough again. “are you— close?” he asks once he’s recovered, his tone almost pouty. “you’re squeezing my hand so hard and now my dick hurts because i imagined fucking you instead.”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the blanket and letting your eyes close again, your hand propped up in the air. “yeah… i reeally wanna fuck you.”

he pries the joint out of your hand to take a hit by himself, then puts it back in your grip and moves his other hand to massage your breast over your shirt. you whine, not expecting it, and buck your hips up.

“fuck, chan– faster, please,” you mumble, your head swimming.

he puts his thumb to your clit and presses down, his fingers moving more roughly inside of you to draw you closer and closer. after a while you open your eyes, and you find him staring at you with such a sweet, empty look on his face, it makes you want to kiss him forever.

you pull him down on top of you and push your lips against his. your teeth clack with his but you don’t care, because you feel too good everywhere else to even pay attention to one little bad thing.

just like the way chan eats you out, he’s messy when he kisses you, and even more so when he’s high. you can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you whine into him, the rest of the world falling away so that the only two people who exist in the entire world are you and him.

without warning you feel familiar waves wash over you and you practically go limp under him as your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs. he stills his fingers inside of you but continues to pet at your clit with his thumb as your walls spasm and contract around him.

when you start to regain some of what’s left of your senses you grab his hand to stop him, pulling him out of your aching pussy. he sighs and pushes his face into your chest, humming against your boobs.

caught up in the moment you hadn’t noticed when you’d dropped the joint, but luckily there was a god or some being out there in the universe that was on your side, because you’d dropped it directly onto the ashtray and not the blanket or the grass.

chan sits up and folds his legs cross-legged as he lights it one more time and hands it to you. there’s not much left of it by now, so it doesn’t take long for you both to finish it. your clothes stink of smoke and you’re a lot clumsier than usual, but you’re more content than you’ve been in a long time.

it’s not the first time you’ve had sex with him while high, but something feels different this time. maybe it was the way he clung to your arm walking back to his apartment, giggling with glee about how he couldn’t wait to have you all to himself. but it was probably more the fact that he told you he loved you right after you came and then proceeded to beg you to let him kiss you again.

of course you let him, your heart and your head soaring as you laid in the grass, casually making out for at least a quarter of an hour. you were in no rush to be anywhere, especially not when you had everything you wanted right here. and it seemed like he had everything he wanted, too: when you finally started to pack up your things to leave, he’d panickedly asked if you would stay with him.

“of course i’m staying,” you laughed, pushing him off of the blanket so you could fold it and put it away. “aren’t we going back to your place?”

“yeah, we are,” he said shyly, plucking a dandelion from the grass. “i meant like… all the time. i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

you looked at him, suddenly scared and a little confused at the sudden change from how excited he’d just been. “…you don’t want us anymore?”

he shook his head. “no, i want you! serious, like boyfriend and girlfriend! i want us to be us.” you don’t immediately respond, and he frowned.“you don’t want to?”

your eyes softened. “i do want to,” you smiled, crawling over to him to cup his cheeks in your hands. “i want to, very much.”

it would be a while before you finally made it back to chan’s apartment, but it was worth the wait. everything was worth the wait.

next year, when you sat in the same spot at the same park to spend your anniversary together, you joked that he had waited until april 20th to make it official because he’d wanted your anniversary to be on a funny date. but really you didn’t mind, because it just gave you more reasons to celebrate.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

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[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

✦ event: freedom is sweet.

✦ for: @zhongrin

✦ info / prompt: “sometimes (read: all the time) i want to just. hug their waist and pepper kisses ( + maybe even nibbles when i'm feeling chaotic >:) ) all over their back!! how do you think they would they react?” (zhongli: modern au. alhaitham: regular au.)

✦ warnings: none, i think. (i did proofread but i may have missed a mistake or two.)

✦ featuring: zhongli, alhaitham.

✦ notes: happy (belated) birthday rin!! my apologies for this being late, i wanted to make it perfect (it's not quite there, but i like it regardless and i hope you will too <3 mwah have a great day!!)

warm rays of sunlight stream in through open windows that zhongli insists on keeping open in the mornings, lighting up the entire kitchen, bouncing off cream colored walls. the plants by the windowsill are certainly grateful for it, considering how they seem to be thriving. they look happier than they’ve ever been.

and in the middle of the cozy scene stands your husband, still in his nightclothes, watering can in hand, amber eyes focused solely on his task. 

the scent of both coffee and tea floats gently to your nose, and you look to the side to see your favorite cup already set atop a warmer. soft, slow music plays through his phone on the table, the notes in harmony with the metallic clinks of the windchime.  oh, you think, smiling to yourself as you lean on the doorframe, arms crossed. he’s finally figured out how to put that song he likes on repeat.

“look at you,” he murmurs to his— well, technically, they’re yours, but at this point he’s practically claimed them as his own with how much attention he lavishes upon them on the daily— plants, affectionately running a finger along a vibrant green leaf. “you’re looking well this morning, aren’t you, little one?” 

an idea sparks to life in your head.

he turns to the right, moving to lightly water another plant, one with pale white flowers blooming happily. “good morning to you, dear,” he coos, gently turning it. “and to you too, madam.” he says to the one with vibrant red blooms. 

opportunity presents itself to you at precisely that very moment, where his back faces towards you and there is no possible chance for him to spot you in his peripherals. your feet, clad in socks, barely make a sound as you inch ever-so-carefully towards him. a brief pause, then a quiet inhale, and you pounce, arms locking around his waist as you pepper kisses all over his backside, quick and mischievous. 

a surprised ‘oof’ leaves his mouth, and he laughs when he realizes it’s you, setting aside the watering can. you lean up, nibbling at the nape of his neck, giggling alongside him. “good morning, my dearest.” he glances at you from over his shoulder, amusement in his expression. “how long have you been up?”

“long enough to see you talking to the flowers,” you tease playfully. “i know you’re an old, old man, but you’re not that old yet, are you?”

he clears his throat, revolving to meet your gaze. he grasps your face in his warm, calloused hands, before speaking. “studies show that talking to your plants and speaking positively to them can augment their growth by a considerable amount, dearest.” his lips quirk into a tiny, serene smile. “besides, i do quite enjoy doing it.”

you laugh, pressing more kisses to the tip of his nose and to his mouth in rapid succession. you feel his smile widen against your lips, which stays on his face long after you pull away.

“you certainly are affectionate today.” he chuckles. “well, then,” he looks to you for silent permission, ever the gentleman, hoisting you up into his arms when you consent, lips brushing over your eyelids, over your cheek and over your forehead.

“let me return the favor tenfold, my love.”

your shoes clack satisfyingly against the polished floors of the house of daena as you walk down the hallway. you pause to wave hello to the man standing near the lift to the grand sage’s office, then walk inside. if your estimates were correct, then you should be just in time for alhaitham’s lunch break.  

you push open the door to his office, forgoing the need to knock. the room is neat, clean and organized; just how he prefers it. you see him standing in front of his bookshelf, eyes scanning up and down, very clearly looking for something, familiar silver hair a little tousled. you walk normally towards him, knowing his headphones muffle the sound of your footsteps, and wrap your arms around his waist.

“boo,” you whisper in his ear, lifting his earpieces a little. “i’m here! did you miss me?”

he sighs contentedly when he feels your touch, book still in one hand, but the other moves to remove his headphones, then grasps your hand firmly. “i did,” he admits, leaning so the back of his head rests against yours. “everything is certainly duller without you around.”

he sighs again, wearily this time, setting the book down to run his fingers over his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. “i’d much rather be at home with you than deal with paperwork. it seems as if people can't do anything themselves.”

“i know,” you whisper against the skin of his neck, smiling sympathetically. you hold him tighter, running your lips over his neck and his back, playfully nipping at his earlobe. your lips kiss every inch of him that you can reach, littering featherlight pecks all over.

he shakes his head at your antics, but the red that dusts his cheek (and the tips of his ears) and the barely contained grin on his face portray a different story. 

“why did you stop?” he asks when you pull away. his voice sounds disappointed, and you can’t help but laugh. how cute. “i never asked you to.” 

“i’m sorry,” you smooch his cheek in apology. your eyes fall to the clock on his desk. “ i'm glad i got to see you today, but i’ve got to go now.”

“where are you going off to?” he pulls you closer by your wrist when you start to move away, then intertwines his fingers with yours once again, brows knitting together. “stay. have lunch with me.”

“i only popped in to say hello,” you kiss the frown on his forehead. “i have to get back to work soon. my break ends much earlier than yours, remember?”

“i know, but you can still stay,” he glances at you. “i’ll send a letter to your boss after lunch. they won’t have a problem.”

“grand sage alhaitham!” you exclaim in mock-surprise, holding a hand to your mouth, eyes widening slightly. “are you really going to use your position to get me to have lunch with you? what would people at the akademiya think of this?” 

“acting grand sage,” he reminds you, leaning over to softly touch his lips to your forehead, used to your theatrics. “good thing i don’t care what they think. besides,” he adds, “i’m sure lesser lord kusanali wouldn’t mind, and is she not the boss of us all?”

you laugh. “i suppose that reasoning is sound.”

he extends his arm for you to hold. “then let's get going.”

taglist: @kissedbysilk @ilyuu @xiaosonlybeloved @ineshapanda @soleillunne @supernova25 @vixianne @downwithlean

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[withoutyouimsaskia]

Autumn (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @thisgameissonintendo

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Pure fluff. Friends to more-than-friends. Morpheus has made you a dream based on one of your favourite things and you explore it together.

Warnings: Physical intimacy, kissing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Happy First Day of Autumn Sandfam! Hope you enjoy this one, would love to hear what you think, and also to know which season is your favourite and why. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

--------------------------------------

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, feeling very much like a person awaiting a surprise on their birthday.

"So impatient," Morpheus replies with a teasing lilt to his liquid velvet voice that sets your laughter free.

"Is that a yes?"

"I am simply adding some final touches."

Ever the perfectionist, you think with a grin.

You inhale deeply, making use of one of the only other senses you could use in this situation. The air is crisp, fresh, with an earthy undertone; you are definitely outside, but where, you have no other clues to help guess.

Morpheus had certainly not given anything away when he had found you sketching in the Dreaming's orchard, charcoal in one hand, half-eaten apple in the other. He had simply told you there was something he wanted to show you.

Curiosity mounting, you had eagerly taken your friend's outstretched hand and promised to not look until he gave the word.

Finally, there is movement in the air beside you. Morpheus' fingers ghost your upper arm to signify his proximity.

"You may open your eyes now," he speaks quietly yet authoritatively by your ear.

You look, blinking to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the swaying branches of numerous trees, before taking the view in properly.

You notice the colours first, their vivacity and variety:

Umber, sienna, scarlet, amber, saffron. All under a pale blue, wispy cloud sky.

Leaves are falling thick and fast. They swirl and undulate in the soft breeze, coming to rest on an already leaf-smothered ground.

Little collections of chestnut coloured mushrooms are dotted next to the tree line. Droplets of dew have gathered on their caps, lending a gorgeous sheen to their already lovely appearance.

Everything you saw was a showcase of autumn.

"You remembered," you say breathlessly, referring to a conversation that had taken place a few weeks ago where you had professed your love for the season and all it entailed.

You look to Morpheus with a sunbeam smile, asking for permission to explore. He nods, extending his arm, communicating that it was all yours.

Your steps into the leafy clearing are gleeful and bouncy, creating satisfying rustling and crunching noises as you go towards the well-established trees. Melodic birdsong echoes from the canopy above you. Swathes of moss begin where the layers of leaves end. You carefully hop onto it and enjoy the way your shoes sink a little into the plush, verdant carpet.

Fingertips trail over the greyish, dappled trunk of a sycamore tree before you move to the tactile, deeply ridged bark of an ash.

You slip your arms around the second tree, close your eyes and give it a big hug.

Everything feels right in this moment.

You open your eyes to see Morpheus watching you from several paces away. There is a twinkle in his deep blue eyes; clearly he finds your display amusing.

The rich autumn colours contrast beautifully against his monochrome attire. None of the falling leaves come close to his person, reminding you that even now, even when he looks to be still, there are a multitude of responsibilities ticking away inside his mind, including the control of the objects within this tranquil dreamscape.

A dreamscape that he wanted to share with you.

It is times like these that you are confronted by the truth of just how special your friendship with Morpheus is. There are fleeting moments where you wish it could be more but for now you are simply an Endless and a mortal who find solace in each other's company.

Pushing yourself away from the tree, you come back into the clearing and find a spot among the leaves to sit. Morpheus joins you after you pat the ground and call his name.

No words are exchanged for a while. You simply pick through the surrounding leaves to find the most vibrant example. A scarlet one, fallen from an aspen is what you settle on. You tuck it in your coat pocket and meet Morpheus' wistful gaze.

"Thank you, I really needed this."

He nods formally. "When you said that you found yourself missing the autumn splendours of the Waking World, I decided to make a version for you to visit at your leisure."

You are taken aback. "You made all this for me?"

"Yes," his tone starts off measured as ever but gives way to something you have never heard before. "Does it have your approval?"

The sudden insecurity is impossibly endearing. You reach sideways to touch the back of his hand.

"Approval? Morpheus, it's - well, somewhere I could only dream of."

He bows his head. "It pleases me to hear that."

"I hope it didn't take up too much of your time to make it all, I know how stretched you can get."

"I cannot deny, it has occupied me a little more than the construction of other recent dreams, however, I believe it necessary to put time and effort into making gifts for those whose pleasure and happiness you find important. You deserve to feel those things, Y/N, and being able to contribute to them in some way brings me pleasure of my own."

You don't know if it the fiery colours around you heightening your reactions but hearing Morpheus talk about pleasure is doing something to you.

It is fuel to the embers that had been smouldering within your body for a couple of months now.

It makes you feel delirious. You find your attention languidly drifting between his eyes and his lips.

Blue to pink, pink to blue.

Then he mirrors your action and it all becomes too much.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you admit, the words rushing out without proper consideration.

"Very well," he answers instantly, not allowing you even a fraction of a second to regret your sudden divulgence.

Doubling down on this approach, he turns his body to face yours and gently cups your face in his long-fingered hands.

He's staring at you so intently, his thumbs run back and forth over your cheekbones, the unwavering attention and sensation causing you to shiver and sigh.

He moves closer and his pupils blow out from anticipation.

Morpheus' perfect lips are now mere centimetres from yours. Fluttery nerves fill your insides. You are so overwhelmed that this is actually happening.

You close the gap, testing the waters with a kiss that is soft and tentative. Morpheus is instantly hooked, initiating a second one that allows you to discover just how skilled he is.

Your hands move up to tangle in Morpheus' unruly hair. At present, you cannot remember how long have you been longing to do this but you are not disappointed by how silken it feels under your palms.

The kiss between you becomes intense, his tongue joining the dance with a bone melting deftness, and soon you want to feel more of his body against yours.

You go to lay back on the bed of leaves.

He pulls away, concern etched in his brows, forehead and eyes that questions if he has gone too quickly.

You smile softly to assure him that all is well.

"Come here." You draw him backwards with you, allowing him to straddle you. During the manoeuvre, his coat falls open enough for you to see the galaxies swirling within the lining.

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you once more, starting at your lips and moving to your neck when he senses that you need to breathe.

The touches of his mouth, the feeling of his body covering yours protectively, the weight of his hips aligned with your own; it has you moaning appreciatively.

He withdraws but remains close, astute eyes drinking in every detail and emotion on your smiling face, the halo-like glow shimmering on your hair.

"So beautiful," Morpheus murmurs reverently.

"Your dreams always are," you say, looking past him at the translucent clouds hovering in the sky above you.

His deep voice rumbles deliciously as he speaks his reply, a false admonishment, "You know that's not what I meant."

He playfully nudges his nose against yours. "This dream pales in comparison to you."

You blush as brightly as the leaf that you had stashed within your pocket. Morpheus traces his fingers over the blossoming redness, marvelling in how the extra heat feels under his touch and how his words were the ones that put it there.

"Kiss me, please," you ask in a whisper.

He arranges his coat to cocoon you against the seasonal chill and then obliges you with a deep and passionate kiss that spreads internal warmth right out to the tips of your fingers and toes.

If your winter continues like this, with Morpheus to hold and bond with, it is shaping up to be infinitely more delightful and cosy than any that have come before.

[katsu28]

Hi!! May I request a Roy Kent x Fem!reader with the Alstroemeria prompt as well as the “saying I love you in between kisses” from the physical intimacy prompts? Please & thank you!! 🤗

thank you so much for requesting and for allowing me my first attempt at writing roy! <3

alstroemeria: going to an event that the other person is interested in just to see them happy + saying i love you in between kisses, roy kent x fem!reader, swearing ofc (it's roy, what did we expect), 1.2k

Roy Kent had never looked as out of place somewhere as he did right now. Broad and tall, covered head to toe in black leather and denim, scowling at the world around him like he’d been personally wronged by it, he proved a stark contrast to the quaint little farmers’ market you'd dragged him to. 

The market itself had been popping up near your place every weekend and you’d been hinting at wanting to go with Roy, but he never wanted to. Going by yourself was always a choice, but there was something about roaming the cobbled streets browsing for fruits and veggies and other cute trinkets with your lovely (albeit perpetually grumpy) boyfriend that just seemed so…domestic.

You’d recently moved in together and this was the perfect way to jumpstart your lives with each other. Maybe you’d get some fun knick knacks for your shelves, or a painting for your walls. 

He’d said no to going the first few times, but once he caught sight of your sad little frown he caved instantly, promising the two of you would go this coming Saturday. That was today, and you were beyond excited. 

You made sure to get there early so you could have the best pick of everything, and to avoid the crowd—another reason you suspected Roy kept turning down your invitations. He was a private guy, so purposely going someplace where he would be recognized almost immediately wasn’t really his cup of tea. Most Richmond fans were fine, but with social media nowadays, some always meant more, and more often than not that always led to the two of you being swarmed and having to go home before you could do whatever you’d left the house for. 

But until that happened, you could just enjoy this time you had with your boyfriend, walking hand in hand through the area. Rows and rows of stalls with fresh fruits and veggies, bunches of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, baked goods alongside jars of jams and honey. It was overwhelming in the best possible way. You didn’t know where to start, so you went everywhere, milling around aimlessly, perusing the tables and chatting with folks along the way. 

Roy grunted his approval at some things, raising a brow at others that had you putting it down. If he really liked it, he would nod, and you picked up a little something. Ingredients for this week’s dinners, a still warm loaf of crusty sourdough with a jar of orange marmalade to go with that you were looking forward to enjoying when you got home, a beautiful set of handmade earrings for Keeley’s upcoming birthday—even a mug with a coffee pun on the side of it for Ted that Roy snorted at.

Had you been paying a little bit more attention to Roy, you would've seen him almost, almost smiling as he watched you scurry from tent to tent to explore. You were enjoying yourself, and that was all he could ever ask for.

You were less than halfway through the market when you spotted the cutest little flower tent off to the side. 

“Roy, look! Flowers!” You exclaimed, practically skipping over to one stand with the prettiest arrangements you’d ever seen. Roy trailed behind you like a stoic shadow, looking half nauseated by the bright colors.

Wandering a little further into the tent, you grew more and more in awe at the sheer beauty of each bundle of flowers. They were perfect, each bud and leaf handpicked to create a masterpiece, but one bunch in particular caught your eye. 

Gorgeous pale pink alstroemeria surrounded by hyacinth in the lightest of yellows, tiny daisies paired with another tiny white flower you didn’t recognize dotting the dark green leaves. It was a simple arrangement, but still beautiful in an effortless kind of way. 

You’d never been more obsessed with anything in your life (except for maybe Roy). 

“They’re nice.” He observed with a sharp nod, but he was more focused on the way your face had lit up when you’d spotted the flowers. 

You turned to him, beaming. “Should we get some? We can put them on the table in the breakfast nook, maybe brighten up the place a little bit.” 

“Brighten up the place? There’s a window, I think it’s fucking bright enough.” He grumbled, but he just looked mildly amused. “Besides, I have allergies.” 

“Yeah, to rabbits, not flowers.” You reasoned, giving him a teasing nudge with your elbow. 

“Same fucking thing!” 

“It’s really not.” 

You ended up leaving the tent without the flowers, opting to forgo them in favor of possibly picking up some other things whilst you continued your market explorations. You’d been a little sad, but Roy kissed your temple and laced his fingers through yours and everything was fine again. They were just flowers after all. 

Roy stopped in his tracks a few stands later, digging his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “You go ahead, I’ve gotta take this call. It’s Ted.” 

You hummed in agreement, giving his hand a squeeze before moving to walk ahead. “Tell Ted I said cheers!” Roy grunted again, stepping off to the side to speak in hushed tones. 

As a result of leaving Roy to his own devices, you actually lost him for a while, but you assumed your grump of a boyfriend would find his way back to you eventually. He always found you. You stopped for a second to readjust the produce in your tote, and when you looked up there he was, wading through the crowd a head above the rest, searching for you with a bouquet of the flowers you’d been eyeing earlier clutched in his fist. 

He reached you quickly, thrusting the flowers out towards you. “For brightness in the fucking breakfast nook.” 

“What made you change your mind?” 

“They made you happy.” 

“You’re just a big softie, aren’t you, Roy Kent?” You were all smiles again, reaching out to pat his stubbled cheek. 

Roy rolled his eyes, but there was still a whisper of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, yeah, don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

You stifled a giggle, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. His free hand instantly came up to loop around your waist, thumbing at the strip of bare skin between your shirt and jeans. 

“I love you,” You mumbled against his lips, pulling back for just a second to admire his softened features. The hard line of his brow was relaxed for once, his usual angry scowl nowhere to be found. He was looking down at you like the two of you were the only ones in the world right now, already leaning back in for another kiss that you gladly went along with, sliding your hand around the back of his neck. “God, I fucking love you. You’re perfect. How are you so perfect?” 

“Could be asking you the same fucking thing, can’t I?” He grumbled, looking a tad annoyed that you’d suddenly grown talkative in the middle of a makeout sesh. Part of you felt guilty because Roy didn’t usually enjoy this much PDA when you were out and about, so maybe you should’ve been taking advantage of it. 

“I asked first.” 

“I’m not perfect. But I love you, and that seems pretty fucking perfect to me.” 

“Who are you and what’ve you done with the real Roy Kent?” You gasped playfully, drawing yet another eye roll from him. He kissed you one more time for good measure, short and sweet, before easing the heavy tote from your shoulder and hiking it onto his. 

“Let’s fucking go home now. I wanna try some of that bread you got earlier while it’s still fresh.” 

“And so you can pick out the biggest piece from the middle? Fucking heathen.” 

“I’m the heathen? You like the fucking ends! Who the fuck likes eating the bread’s ass?” 

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[fayes-fics]

Deserved

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: A memorable first wedding anniversary in Marrakesh...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), facesitting, stripping, vaginal sex. Married couple, romance, teasing, delayed gratification.

Word Count: 8.5k

Authors Note: This is a request fill for the wonderful @broooookiecrisp for her birthday. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your ask here (request: modern Anthony spends the day seducing his wife). For some reason, I was inspired to set this fic in Marrakesh. Many thanks to @colettebronte for reading through a couple of times, suggesting the title and supporting me when I was close to abandoning this whole concept lol. Enjoy! <3

As soon as your eyes flutter open, your belly flutters too. It's your first wedding anniversary, and you are on a well-deserved break in sun-soaked Marrakesh. You are staying in a beautiful oasis in the midst of town. A riad he has rented that is the picture of Moroccan opulence. So here you lie under pristine soft white cotton; the teal-coloured ceiling studded with gold leaf stars that you stare at is so beautiful you have to sigh. When you stretch your limbs and roll your head to the side, there is one Anthony Bridgerton, your husband of precisely 365 days, lying propped up on his side, already awake, head resting on a casually bent arm, bicep flexed. He greets you with such a handsome stubbled grin that your breath catches.

“Good morning, beautiful wife. Happy anniversary.”

You roll towards him, instinctually wanting him, his skin on yours, perhaps some wonderful slow morning sex to start your anniversary off just right. His chuckle is rich in your ear as you crowd into him and slide an arm around his warm torso, tilting your face up for a kiss, an overture. He hums gently and redirects his lips to your forehead, placing a loving kiss there. Your brow knits slightly, and you are filled with concern about morning breath.

“Your breath is fine,” he laughs, guessing where your thoughts have run. “I just have very special plans for today,” he smiles, cupping your jaw and placing another chaste kiss on your cheek. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” your answer is a reflex; his responding beam makes your heart light. 

“Then I would like to table morning sex, as utterly wonderful as it would be. Today you deserve to be pursued, wooed. I will spend all day earning the right to be with you. To show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” Warmth spreads under your ribs as he continues. “Now, I have a very special day planned for us, but it starts with breakfast out in the courtyard; how does that sound, hmmm?”

Your tummy rumbling answers for you, and you share a laugh at the timing. With a quick kiss on your other cheek, he pulls away and throws off the covers, stepping out of bed. Utterly naked. Giving you a full view of his very peachy bottom as he leisurely strolls towards the bathroom.

“Tease,” you call after him, your mouth watering at the mere sight of his tanned, toned body.

“Just a little amuse bouche,” he responds lightly over his shoulder, giving a slight wiggle before closing the door.

“Not fair,” you whine, flopping back onto the bed with a grin that feels like it claims your whole face as his responding laugh echoes on the bathroom tile through the wall.

____

Half an hour later, as you emerge from the bathroom fully dressed, he takes your hand, kissing the back of it, his lips lingering and his soft, warm eyes tilted towards you; then he leads you by the hand out to the sunny courtyard. There, right under a perfect riot of date palms, is a table set up for two, gleaming silverware and platters overflowing with fruits, freshly baked bread, olives, sauces and all manner of delights. The enticing aroma of intense Morrorocan spiced coffee fills the air.

“Mmmm, perfect,” he declares and chivalrously pulls out a chair for you to sit, rounding to his only once you are comfortable.

You eat together slowly, lazily, as you reminisce on your wedding day a year ago. The fun, the mishaps, but mostly the love, the love of your family and friends and the joy surrounding you as you pledged yourselves to each other for all to see.

At the end of the meal, as some staff materialise and clear your plates, he places a box in front of you on the table, ruby red against the pristine white.

“What is this?”

“Just the first of many gifts for the day,” he shrugs demurely.

You prise off the lid to find inside an intricately designed paper peony flower encased in a clear Perspex box.

“It's beautiful,” you sigh, carefully taking it out and turning it slowly to see the many, many layers of intricate folding.

“The first anniversary is traditionally paper,” he smiles, “so I had someone take our wedding invitation and order of service booklet and fashion it into a flower for you. There are over 1000 folds and cuts, so it is quite delicate.”

Up close now, you see the print of your names and the design of your invitation, and you inhale sharply. This is hours of painstaking work. And such a thoughtful gift. You swing out of your chair and climb into Anthony’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Thank you, it's wonderful,” you sigh against his lips. He obliges your kisses, your hands looping around his neck as you deepen the kiss running your tongue over his lips. You hear his soft moan and instinctively push your body against him, shifting further into his lap when he pulls back from the kiss. 

“No darling, I have not earned you yet,” he murmurs, moving to your neck, sucking your skin with soft, warm lips in a way that makes you weak and wanting.

“Please, Anthony…” you whine a little, your hand straying down his torso, but he captures your wrist and moves your arm away.

“Don't think I don't want to,” he assures, right in your ear, rich like velvet. “Right now, nothing would give me greater pleasure, my love, but I want to build up to something truly memorable. Earn you. Give you a full day of romance. I am usually so busy with work; I more than owe you this—a year of missed dinners and interrupted plans. Today, in fact, this week is just for us. No work, no meddling Bridgerton family. Just us.”

He’s right, although you’ve never seen it that way or held a grudge. You knew when you accepted his proposal how life would be as the wife of a CEO of a powerful company such as Bridgerton Enterprises. You have your network of friends and your own career to forge. And he always made it home, albeit sometimes late, but with an affectionate greeting and often a mind-blowing orgasm. It’s hardly been a struggle. He’s never left you believing you are anything but what he needs—his safe harbour, his home, where he wants to lay his head, physically and spiritually.

“Please let me do this?” he appeals, nuzzling against you.

The loving, sweet way he asks makes you sigh and capitulate, despite being already ripe and wanton for him. With a theatrical pout that he finds entertaining, you climb out of his lap and retake your seat as he checks his watch.

“We have a car coming to pick us up shortly to take us a little way out of town for our first activity of the day,” he smiles.

“What are we doing?”

“A little camel ride before the heat of the day kicks in,” he smiles. “We can enjoy a little escape from the hustle and bustle of the city with the backdrop of the Atlas Mountains.”

“I've never ridden a camel before,” you confess, a little nervous as he stands up and steps behind your chair, squeezing your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right with you,” he promises, then leans in, his breath hot on your cheek. “You have the skill to ride any beast; I have no doubt.”

Yep, he's definitely trying to kill you.

____

Sometime later, having been whisked out of the city, you are being helped onto the camel by a tour guide as it kneels next to some steps. Anthony climbs on effortlessly behind you. And with a quick tug of the harness, the camel is standing up, and you squeal lightly, grabbing hold of Anthony’s hands that encircle your waist.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, and you realise you will be spending the next hour with him pressed against your back, the seat very snug.

“Should we not be on separate camels?” you ask quietly.

“Usually yes, but I requested we share,” his voice lilting, his fingers flexing lightly over your tummy, scrunching the soft cotton of your maxi dress. 

You exhale shakily as you feel his muscles flex against your back as the camel starts to move at a leisurely gait. It's a gently rolling motion that is quite relaxing…. Except all you can think about is Anthony, his legs bracketing yours, the hair of his calves tickling yours where your dress is hitched up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, enveloping you, and points to the stunning mountains. It is indeed a wondrous, unforgettable place, and you savour the vista the best you can even as your thoughts are of the man behind you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear occasionally between when the guide is speaking. The heat of the desert is still building for the day, but there is a refreshing, gentle breeze amongst the cacti—cooling the sun on your skin.

“I told you you would be a natural,” Anthony compliments lowly as you watch the hazy shimmer on the horizon.

“What I believe you said was something about riding a beast,” you shoot back coquettishly, twisting to say it quietly in his ear, revelling as his hands grasp you a fraction tighter as you say it.

“All in good time, my love,” he responds, dropping a kiss onto the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Mmm, you smell of almonds and coconut,” he sighs, running the tip of his nose over your skin.

“It's my suntan lotion,” you hum, basking in the feeling.

“You taste good enough to eat,” he rumbles, and part of your mind pleads with him to bite your skin, to slide a hand under your dress and touch you, uncaring there is a guide with you. The press of his toned frame against yours has you in a low simmer of arousal, his sensual touch almost unbearable.

You want to tell him to stop teasing you like this, but it’s as enthralling as it is exasperating. You lean back into him as the camel sways, savouring the intimacy, even as you crave more, distracted by errant flashes of his hands running heavily down your body as you undulate on him in a manner not dissimilar to the movements of this ride—almost as if he planned this. To have you distracted and thinking of him, even in this mesmerising landscape.

“May we have a photo?” Anthony calls, pulling you from your erotic reverie. 

Your tour guide obliges, taking the proffered phone and stepping back to frame the shot as Anthony wraps his arms tighter around you. Smiling for the camera, you know this will be a picture you will treasure for years to come.

“You look beautiful today, my love,” Anthony flatters, running fingertips over the soft, lightweight fabric of your dress as the camel moves again.

“Thank you,” you demure. 

“Although I must admit, I can’t wait to take it off of you later,” he adds in a dusky tone that makes your breath hitch.

“Are you going to tease me like this all day?” you bemoan under your breath.

“Yes,” he chuckles softly, “and it’s probably going to get much worse.” The glittering promise makes your skin prickle even hotter than the desert sun.

____

An hour or so later, you return to your riad, and he suggests you take a cooling dip in the courtyard pool before heading to the souk for a late afternoon tour and then dinner. It's a beautiful tranquil shaded spot framed with plants and tiled in stunning tourmaline green.

The cold water is a wonderful balm from the rising temperatures, and you sigh indulgently as you slip under the surface up to your shoulders, resting your head on the edge and closing your eyes.

You only stir when the water laps gently around your neck as he joins you. Your eyes open to the delicious view of your husband in swimming shorts slung almost obscenely low on his hips. Acres of tanned, toned torso above them with an inviting line of hair trailing from the patch at his chest, down over his defined abs all the way to those shorts. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, wanting to trace its length.

“My face is up here,” he smirks at your obvious ogling.

“You denied me morning sex,” you lobby back as he wades in slowly down the steps, “besides, I am within my rights to eye up my delicious husband.” 

He laughs and wades closer, dipping under the water and making an almost obscene moan of pleasure, tilting his head back to wet his hair so it is slicked against his head. Then he advances on you with a knowing smile until his arms cage yours against the pool wall, and he pulls in and kisses your cheek.

“Feeling cooler, Viscountess?” he teases lightly.

“I was,” you reply pointedly, and he smirks, pulling you into his arms and wrapping your legs loosely around his hips.

It’s intimate but more sensual than anything else, your arms banding around his neck as you float entwined together, indulging in the cool waters. Wordlessly you cling together and spend many moments in companionable silence, just enjoying each other's embrace and the soothing water.

“Are you enjoying your first wedding anniversary, love?” he asks after a while.

“Very much so; this sets a rather high bar for the future.” You point out.

You feel his smile as your faces are pressed together. “I will bear that in mind,” he replies playfully, kissing your shoulder.

“What is next on this day of dates?” you ask, petting the wet tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck.

“We shall have a private tour guide take us to the best shops in the souk for some more gifts, of course, and then a private dinner cooked for us by a superb chef. And perhaps some dancing?”

“That sounds far too dreamy,” you sigh, turning your head to place a kiss on his neck. The cool water drops over his warmth is tantalising, and you linger, sucking gently, curling your legs around his hips further, pressing into him.

“I know what you are doing, my love,” he chuckles knowingly, “but trust me, it’s better that we wait to indulge,” his voice vibrating the skin against your lips.

“How can you be so sure?” you pout mildly.

He chuckles and pulls back to run a thumb over your lower lip, the slight aroma of chlorine there. “Delayed gratification tastes so much sweeter. Like ageing wine, it is always worth the wait,” he whispers and nuzzles your face, dropping soft kisses on your cheeks that make you feel glowing and jittery inside like fireflies live behind your ribs.

Your hands can’t help but run over his shapely torso underwater as you untangle limbs, wanting the sense memory to tide you over until you can see him without clothing later.

“I shall go get ready for our tour; it will start in half an hour,”

He kisses your knuckles with a smile, then climbs out of the pool, giving you a delectable view of the sweeping, strong line of his back, the curve of the muscle of his bum and legs. It makes you want to trace every contour with your tongue, a viscous throb in your swimwear under the water.

“Damn you, husband,” you mutter to yourself as he grabs a towel and, with a cheeky grin over his shoulder, heads across the courtyard to your bedroom. 

____

A little while later, as the afternoon rolls around, you are changed and ready for a tour. The sights, sounds and smells of the souk are so evocative. As you wander the narrow lanes between merchants, it’s a hubbub and hive of people and activity. Colourful fabrics drape over walls; displays groan with beautiful jewellery, brass lanterns throwing kaleidoscopic swirls of colour, and bright jars filled with earthy spices. The noise of haggling, Arabian music playing from little speakers and the most arrestingly delicious smell of spices, ripe fruits, coffee brewing and delicious foods cooking. It’s an overload of the senses that is delightful as it is intense. All the while, Anthony has an arm snaked around your back as you both wander in awe. 

As you pass one stall, a scarf catches your eye, and you linger, running your fingers over it, amazed at the softness and gauzy quality of the silk. Its varying tones of purple interlaced with silken silver threads. With a handsome grin, Anthony picks it up, wraps it around your shoulders, and nods to the merchant, handing over a bill after a short exchange with the guide. 

“It’s beautiful on you,” he whispers into your hair, bussing the lightest kiss onto your temple. 

“Anthony,” you demure, touching the material and still marvelling at its beauty, “you needn’t buy me so many gifts today. I am just enjoying our quality time together.”

“And I am enjoying giving you everything that makes your eyes light up,” he replies; the sincerity in his eyes has you melting. “Why else would a man work all the hours I do if not to spoil those he loves, hmm?” His lips are warm on your cheekbone. 

You cannot argue with that, so you merely smile and kiss his jaw, slightly rough with stubble. Only when your guide pointedly clears their throat do you break from your romantic cinch and move along.

It’s a delight of an afternoon as you snack on freshly roasted almonds, the most delicious buttery olives you have ever tasted, fresh figs and prickly pears. At one point, Anthony purchases a clay tagine, just about the only kitchen item that wasn’t on your wedding registry and arranges to have it delivered to your riad as you keep wandering.

“This is so memorable,” you sigh as you pause to watch your joint reflection in a mosaic mirror—myriad scattered versions of yourself, each looking as happy as you feel. You watch in the mirror as his eyes meet yours, and then he leans down to kiss your neck, wanting you to watch; so many versions of him kissing do so many versions of you. “So many versions of us,” you chuckle quietly, nodding at the mirror, and he curls a smile against your skin.

“I would love you in every universe,” he murmurs, his breath dusting warm as if he can tell where the mirror has sent your thoughts. “And I think we need to buy this mirror as a reminder,” he smiles. 

You shake your head affectionately but don’t fight his suggestion, and before you know it, there is an arrangement for another item to be sent to your place.

____

After a couple of hours of wandering the souk, you retire back to the oasis of your riad. As late afternoon gives way to early evening, you spend an hour lying under the whitewash veranda on cushioned loungers, reading together in companionable silence as you sip fruit juices.

Your book looked to be a fluffy, lightweight confection of period romance from the cover when you purchased it, but a few chapters into the story, things turn a little spicy when you were reading on the flight. Now a few chapters later, it is happening again; your pulse quickening, a flush creeping over your body at the descriptives. When you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together on instinct, it catches Anthony’s attention, and he looks over to you intrigued, putting down his book and swinging around to face you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” 

You look up from your book, almost startled, and you watch his face turn intrigued as he catalogues your dilated pupils and the lower lip you are worrying with an incisor tooth. When you don’t answer, he slips the book from your slackened grip and takes it into his hands to read.

“Lady Brook sighed tremulously as his…” he stops reading aloud, and his eyes widen and then cut to you. “Well, that is quite something…” he mutters, his tone dropping lower as his eyes ping from the passage that he doesn’t appear able to stop reading and you. “Darling, this is… quite explicit,” his tone gravelly now.

“Read it to me, Anthony,” you whisper without thought, and his inhale is sharp.

He looks hesitant at first, but then he gets a glint in his eye. “I will do so on one condition,” he offers in low timbre.

“Which is?” you prompt, intrigued.

“You must not touch yourself anywhere as I read,” he simpers. “Just lay there and listen with your eyes closed.”

“Alright,” you concur, wrapping your hands around the arms of the lounger as if to prove a point as your eyes flutter shut.

“Lady Brook sighed tremulously as his hand ran up the inside of her thigh under the table,” his voice is smooth and buttery as you squeeze your legs together tighter, basking in his voice. “The spidering warmth of them making her breath hitch. Just as the King announced the evening’s entertainment, his fingers reached the apex of her thighs, naked, bare and glistening with slick desire just for him.” At this point, Anthony clears his throat and glances around to check no one is within earshot. “Wow, this is…” he breaks from the narrative momentarily, and you sense his shock as he reads ahead silently. “I'm not sure I should read more,” he says quietly, and your eyes open at his change of tone.

“Why not, darling?” the breathy nature of your question is not lost on either of you.

“I think this could derail my plans for the day entirely,” he divulges. “It makes me want to pick you up and take you to bed right now.” There is more than a hint of a growl, and that low simmer of arousal flares inside you at his confession.

“Please, Anthony, do it,” you beseech.

“You temptress,” he lobbies heatedly, and part of you longs for him to lift you, carry you across the courtyard and throw you onto the bed. “But no…” he sounds the most reluctant he has all day. “It will be worth the wait,” he remarks firmly, but it seems as much for himself as you.

You pout but relent as your eye catches the beautiful scarf he bought for you earlier. “Okay, but… later, I want you to do what happens on page 82,” you reply huskily as you rise from the lounger to visit the toilet… and probably splash cold water on your face.

You hear him flipping pages as you walk away and smile as he exclaims, “Bloody hell! Is this what all romance books are like?!? This is utter filth!” 

It’s your turn to shoot a coy smile over your shoulder as you close the door.

____

Within the hour, the sky above your courtyard turns dusky purple and pink as the sun fades. You change into a black halter dress that is simple but elegant—long flowing silk that is almost entirely backless. As a result, you decide to forgo all underwear, the cool silk directly on your skin, a soothing, arousing sensation resting weightlessly on your nipples and grazing the globes of your bare bottom. On your feet, you wear strappy gold leather sandals that complete the look perfectly. 

When you emerge from the dressing room off the bedroom, Anthony has left a hand-scrawled note on the bed to join him when you are ready in the pool courtyard. 

You wander out, and the vista catches your breath. The space is lit softly with up lights amongst the palms and fairy lights wrapped around their trunks. The pool glows invitingly from underwater lighting, and the sky above is now a dusky grey as night falls.

Amongst all this exotic beauty is the sight that truly steals your breath. Your husband in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, highlighting his tanned skin. Custom-fitted trousers hang perfectly on his muscular frame. He is barefoot, and his hair is slightly tousled. All you want to do is grab his hand and haul him back to the bedroom and tackle him to the bed. 

He smiles wide as you approach, drinking in the view of you, walking a little taller, knowing the silk flows around your body like a shimmery river.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you can’t help the triumphant little smirk at his reaction. 

“It gets better,” you say quietly as you pull up close and then turn your back and hear the almost strangled noise he makes at the sheer amount of skin on display.

“Good lord, you are trying to kill me?” he stutters, feeling the breath he huffs over your shoulder blades.

“Revenge for a day of teasing,” you shoot back, swishing your head to the side so you can see his heated expression behind you out of the corner of your eye.

“Doesn’t feel like revenge,” he breathes.

You jolt as one knuckle runs softly and slowly down each notch in your spine from your mid-back to the scoop of fabric. Just that touch alone causes goosebumps to break out down your arms and your nipples to pebble hard against the silk. 

“Payback then,” you amend, and he smiles. 

“I have more surprises in store yet,” he vows and rounds beside you, taking your hand and leading you to a table for two surrounded by flickering brass lanterns. 

You savour a memorable and delicious meal freshly prepared by what you later learn is a world-renowned chef. Every bite is a delight, crafted so expertly that it melts into delicious nothingness on your tongue—a true culinary thrill. The food is accompanied by Dom Perignon vintage champagne, almost tasting like fruit dancing on your tongue.

Anthony is quiet at the meal. Not in an uncomfortable way, but more letting the culinary experience dictate your exchanges. But all the while, when you catch each other's eye, he shoots you a look of such devotion it almost seems out of character. 

As the plates are cleared away, you realise he looks a little apprehensive, as if he has something to say but feels nervous to do so.

“What is it, my love?” you check. 

Surprise morphs across his handsome features. “You know me far too well,” he huffs, amused and seems to relax a few notches. “There is something I wish to say, but first… let’s dance,”

“But there’s no music?” you giggle.

Anthony nods to someone behind you, and suddenly from speakers hidden amongst the foliage, music pipes up. Within a few notes, you recognise it as the first dance from your wedding; your heart soaring as he pulls you up from your chair.

“Oh, you…” you shake your head affectionately but let him pull you a few paces onto the exotic mosaic tile square at the centre of the courtyard.

You rest your head against his jaw as he draws you into his arms, swaying to the song, his hand warm on your bare back. You tilt up to see the blanket of stars and have to refrain from becoming too overrun with emotion. It’s been the perfect day, a mix of fun and relaxation, quiet and bustle, nature and city, and all the time him. Anthony. Never leaving your side for long and making so many romantic overtures you wish you had written the day down so they do not blend together too much. Just as you are lost, trying to mentally file away all of the experiences, his voice gently cuts into your thoughts.

“I am not a man of poetry,” he begins, almost hesitant, “and such words of flattery would ring hollow in the face of what we now share.” You can tell from his grip on your hand and the one on your back that this feels like an important speech, so you pull away slightly to look at him, meet his eye, and give his jaw a reassuring touch as he continues. “I may not be able to offer the beautiful words you truly deserve, but I hope today has been a good display of my love for you. I assure you, when it comes to actions, I would never want to be demonstrably lacking. I hope today speaks louder than any pretty words could.”

You know your eyes are misty now, even as he relinquishes your hand and reaches into his pocket. You mutter his name, voice loaded with emotion, just as he raises a thin sparkling band held between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp and cling to him, your gaze pinging between his face, soft with emotion, and the beautiful object he holds between your bodies. 

“This is an eternity ring,” he explains sotto voce, spinning it slowly so the jewels catch fire in the lantern light. “It is a never-ending ring of tiny diamonds that symbolise how I feel. That my love for you never ends; it is a continuous circle—for eternity. I didn’t want to wait another day to offer it to you. In the hope you will always wear it, alongside your wedding and engagement rings,” he nods at the other two you wear proudly on your left hand.

“Please put it on me,” you whisper and tremble as he slips the ring until it nestles with the others—a perfect match.

“Thank you, Anthony, my love, my world,” you know your voice quivers as you rock to your tiptoes and push your lips to his. 

He accepts your advance, your chest bursting with fireflies as he lets you deepen the kiss, hands sliding around each other's bodies. This feels like the pinnacle; you can no longer be teased and denied. Your heart and body are aflame, craving him almost painfully. 

“You’ve earned me,” you state fervently over his lips as you break for air.

“I have?” his emotive gasp knocks the wind from you.

You move your lips to the shell of his ear. “I’m on fire for you, Anthony. Please, please don’t deny me anymore.” 

He pants a little as he gusts warm in your ear. “I could never,” it’s a hushed tone; the spike of euphoria in your veins is the best drug in the universe.

“Are we alone?” 

“We can be if I give the signal,” he murmurs back, fingertips trailing your spine again.

“Give it,” you hiss, almost fevered.

After another fervent kiss and a few moments of swaying as the song fades, he confirms it's just the two of you, and the house staff will not return unless called.

“Take off my shoes?” you request, a swell of desire and emotion as he sinks to his knees before you, glancing up with a loaded expression—the flickering light from the surrounding lanterns dancing on his blackened pupils.

You pull up your hem slightly to reveal your shoes, and, using both hands, he eases the dainty buckle until he can peel off the sandal. You grasp his shoulders as you place your bare foot on the cool tile, and he moves to the other shoe. Soon you are barefoot and gazing down at your husband, staring back up at you devotedly. 

Without breaking eye contact, you reach behind your neck and pull the silken bow until the halter relents. The gossamer material instantly slackens and slips down over your body in a diaphanous flutter—the material soon merely a black circle around your feet. 

The noise he makes is primal, so wanton, that you lock your knees to stay upright. You daren't look away from his face; his breathing turns shallow and rapid, drinking in the view of you, utterly naked and standing above him.

“Fuckkkkk.” 

“Take me,” you implore simply, cupping his strong jaw in both hands, enjoying the rasp of stubble against your palms. 

His eyes flash, and his mouth opens a fraction as he runs his hands slowly up the outside of your calves, his gaze never leaving yours. You can't resist running a thumb over those luscious lips. His lips open wider as you pull gently down on his bottom lip, pliant under your touch, his hands gliding up over the outside of your knees and thighs.

When his hands reach your hips, he tugs you down wordlessly, shifting himself backwards until he is lying on the cooling mosaic tile and pulling your body on top of him with a heated look, your knees landing on either side of his shoulders.

“Anthony,” you gasp as he turns his head to the side and sucks on your inner thigh, enticing you lower.

Your stomach is in a knot, pulsing deep inside as he twists back, his breath hot on the soaked slit between your legs. Your thighs are almost trembling as he unfurls his tongue and takes a decadent swipe pushing apart your lips and ending with a flick with the point over your clit. 

The whole day of simmering desire has led to this moment, your head tilting back to see a blanket of stars in the sky above the courtyard, framed by the palm tree fronds. Your right hand gropes blindly until your fingers sink into his luscious chestnut hair… and you let go. Let your inhibitions fly, groan loudly, decadently, uncaring of anything but chasing pleasure, knowing it must be a striking image; you sat utterly naked upon his face as he lays beneath you, still fully clothed.

He utters encouragements into your flesh as he swipes lewdly, sucking hard on your labia, tugging gently to amplify the sensation around your clit before swirling his tongue deep right around that distended nub. He knows your body so well now, so easily able to take you apart with a few deadly moves. And yet it never grows familiar, old or tired, always a little different, keeping you on the edge of anticipation of what he will do next.

The rich cotton of his shirt brushes your inner knees as he shifts slightly under you, hands gliding over your skin to encircle the dip of your waist and pull you lower so you are bearing down your weight upon him, so he can't breathe unless it’s into your body, his nose buried deep in your pubic hair, resting against the bone there, his mouth hot and heavy as he gasps around you, his mouth drinking from you as if its nectar.

You tilt your head back down and tug on his hair, watching his eyes glitter as he growls deep. You moan, feeling the vibration through your public bone as his mouth opens wide against you, his tongue taking broad strokes, seemingly engulfing the whole area with one dab.

The look as he coaxes you to slide on him is breathtaking; you cannot look away from those pupils, shining in the low romantic light, as you rock your hips gently, his tongue swirling deep with each pass. Your left hand slides over his where they hold your waist, lacing your fingers together so your wedding rings clink. This is pure carnality, and you don't want it to end. You want to spend the night entwined with him. The wait he put you through earlier is more than worth the payoff of this moment. 

“All night,” your comment is a breathy ragged exhale, “I want you to make love to me all night,” you say clearly, unashamed to speak the truth of your desire to your husband.

His mouth is too occupied to reply, but you see the flash in his eye that tells you that is precisely his plan. He shifts lower, and you cry out as he spears his tongue into a point and buries it into your pussy, the rough stubble on his cheeks abrading the soft skin of your inner thigh as he wraps his arms tighter. 

You pant his name and tilt fractionally, letting your swollen clit ride his nose as his tongue lashes deep into your channel. You sense little movements in his body and can tell he is unconsciously bucking his hips up off the floor, simulating thrusting into you; you glance down over your shoulder to see a delicious bulge there, and you can't resist but shift angle, releasing your hold on his hair and bowing back slightly over him so you can grab his crotch as you ride his tongue.

You feel the snarl he makes echo up your pussy as you palm the heated mass that strains against his trousers, grasping your fingers in sync with the lashings of his tongue. So desperate for him to be inside you.

He wrenches his face backwards away from your pussy and takes deep wracking breaths, canting his hips so he surges into your grip.

“Stop, darling,” he urges, but the tone suggests the exact opposite.

“No,” you challenge, raising an eyebrow, ”I want to come on your face as I grip your cock.”

He looks dazzled, awestruck even, by your boldness. Something that has blossomed as you grew in confidence under his guidance, him leading you into new realms of pleasure. Teaching you to demand what you want of him.

“As my Viscountess wishes,” he responds silkily, the tone somehow both submissive and authoritative.

His right hand relinquishes its grip on your waist, and you cry out as two fingers plunge into your cunt, his knuckles pushing open your walls as you cling to them, the invasion just perfect to push you higher, an electric slide down your spine as your scalp tingles. Your grip on his other hand at your waist, almost bruising now, his wedding ring leaving a dent in your skin.

Then his tongue is back, harshly swiping your clit, as his other fingers rock deep inside you. You whimper his name, shamelessly grinding on his face, chasing that addictive high as his tongue lashes right over your swollen bud. Concentrating all his efforts there, swirling, teasing, varying pressure, then sucking it between his lush lips, then using a little edge of his teeth to nip at the tip, a new blinding pleasure hits you. 

You are pleading with him not to stop, your voice delirious, drunk on him, on this—the debauched tableau amongst the beauty of twinking palms, white-washed walls and glowing understated opulence.

The filthy sodden noises he wrenches from your body would have made you feel ashamed before. Now you know better; it's like music to his ears, how utterly gushing and aroused he can make you, leaking over his eager face. His fingers hook a little, and he hits that spot that steals the breath from your lungs. You can see the smirk in his eyes as you shudder bodily, your nipples throbbing, wanting his touch, and he knows it. Releasing your waist and snaking that hand up to tweak them, playing your body like a maestro does an instrument.

The heavy elixir of sensation: his fingers buried in your cunt dragging hard, his lips on your clit, his other hand snagging your nipples, his cock rigid and heated under your palm, his eyes goading you, are what push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body clamping tense, taunt and shaking as the fluttering in your channel fans out flames around your body.

You hear muffled sounds as he makes victorious noises, but the world is narrowing to the rush noise in your ears and the burning pulse as you break. Your body weight slumped onto his strong jaw as you cry out and convulse, him drinking from your body. You take wracking breaths as you tip sideways and roll onto the tile next to him, the cool ceramic a salve to your flushed, heated skin.

He instantly rolls against you as you stare at the stars and try to return to reality, even as you feel yourself floating up amongst the heavens. You don't fight his hold as he scoops you up and athletically moves across the courtyard towards your bedroom, you curling into his body, feeling soft and pliant against his muscular frame. 

As he sweeps in, the room is lit with soft flickering pillar candles nestled in little glass dishes filled with sand. Everything looks so beautiful you burrow further into him and look at him devotedly, knowing this is all something he arranged. The beauty and romance are as breathtaking as the mind-bending orgasm he just gave you. And just like that, your desire flares again, an almost metallic taste in your mouth as your blood runs hot. The fierce want to have him making love to you, sensual, lush, needy, his sinful voice pleading your name into your neck as you move together.

“Please, Anthony,” you whisper as he places you on top of the plush white cotton bedding and backs away from the bed as you stare at him, mesmerised by his sinful expression.

He flicks open a shirt button with an arched brow, giving you a show, letting you fully recover in comfort, but making sure your arousal never slips for a second. You know your pupils are blown wide, and you bite your lip, still tingling and swollen dark pink from your orgasm. You greedily drink in his toned torso being revealed, the dusting of thick chest hair so inviting you want to run your fingertips through it and grip it, making him groan. With a flourish that makes you giggle, he throws aside the shirt and holds your gaze smoulderingly as his hand drops to the zip of his fly. You are almost certain he was not wearing underwear when you palmed him earlier, the heat and insistence too great for him to be sporting anything but the thin fabric he now is parting. And you are right. You don't hesitate to moan as his cock springs free, so familiar but every time tantalising, making you clench at the very sight. 

He shucks his trousers down his toned, downy legs, instantly prowling towards you, naked except for that shiny wedding ring you can't take your eyes off. 365 days of bliss. And hopefully, a lifetime more.

Then he climbs over you, tilting you back onto the bed so all you see is his handsome, smiling, stubbled face framed by curled chestnut locks and beyond, teal and gold stars. It's a view you want to be burned into your retinas, a core memory to recall in your twilight years—the love, the passion, the connection.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” he purrs, nuzzling your face with his before kissing you passionately, your arousal musky on his face and tongue. He loves to kiss you like this, so you taste yourself on him, a cocktail of his mouth and the arousal he wrings from your body—a reminder of the passion you share. 

His hand cups your jaw as your tongues lathe together, endless kisses as his hands sweep over your body, grasping behind your knee and pulling your leg up and out wide so he slots between your thighs, his rigid cock sliding over the apex, making you moan into his mouth.

He rocks his cock teasingly, his lips ghosting yours, whispering yeses, and that's it, revelling in your little noises, the sensation against your swollen soaked clit almost too much.

Just as you start to plead with him to stop teasing, he angles lower. “I love you,” his voice deep as he slips inside your waiting, wanton cunt. Stretching you and filling you in that way only he ever can. Your echoed response is a ragged thing as your eyes roll back, and he huffs a bemused noise at your attempted reply.

Your gazes lock as he slides slowly deeper until he is buried entirely in your body, already fluttering around him, the fit so perfect, just the right side of an ache. You hold his face and pull him down for more kisses as he starts to move in slow, deliberate strokes, your whole body rolling with the effort, a gentle wave that already has you floating.

He may not be a man of flamboyant words, but as he said earlier, his actions speak louder than any affirmations ever could. Showing you his devotion, enveloping your body and mind. As his pace increases, he delicately takes your hand and runs his lips over your new sparkling eternity ring, his fathomless umber eyes speaking the words for him. 

Your hands rake down the hair on his chest, loving the soft feel under your fingers, sliding further until you reach his abs, the flex so arousing as he thrusts into your body. You glance down to where your bodies meet, watching his cock disappear into you rhythmically, a tantalising glimpse. Your hands circle his sides, staking his skin to grab his shapely bottom, enticing him to take you harder, towards a crescendo. 

“Not yet,” he chuckles, dropping a quick kiss on your lips.

Instead, he pulls out of your body, you keening loudly at the sudden loss. He sits up, crossing his legs into the lotus position and hauls you into his lap. He guides you down onto him, and a shiver runs up your spine as he wraps your legs around his lower back. Locked together with his cock buried deep, the pace turns slow, your eyes staring, sharing kisses, languid, sensual, elongating the experience into something else. His hands run soothing strokes over your spine as yours hold his biceps, using your core strength to circle your hips, loving the feel of his cock dragging different angles as you rise and fall gently. This is the sort of intimacy that songs are composed about, and you feel so profoundly exhilarated and privileged that you get to experience it with this wonderful man. 

You rock together, limbs entwined, for many more moments, your gaze catching the reflection in the arched mirror on the other side of the room. You cannot see all of you, just the top of Anthony's shoulders and his head of hair and yourself, rising and rocking onto his cock. Even just this little snippet is undeniably arousing, and you turn your head to whisper in his ear that you want him to fuck you in front of a mirror before you leave, want to watch you both come. Following your instinct to tell him your desires.

The noise he emits in response makes every hair on your body stand on end, his hands gripping your hips forcefully. It seems to light a fire in him, suddenly rife with need, the mood changing from languorous to passionate. Your world tilts as he throws you down onto your back, your legs still looped around his back, as he unfurls himself and hovers over you, a wild look in his eye. 

“You want me to fuck you, wife?” he growls, and just as rapidly, you need him to take you somewhere utterly feral, savage, ferocious.

“Yes, oh god, yes, please,” you implore raggedly, your hands back on his bum, digging your nails into his flesh, leaving crescent-shaped indents and scratches on the round of his cheeks.

And so he does. Looping your legs over his forearms now, tilting your pelvis up and more open, he thrust into your body, plugging to the hilt in one stroke that makes your toes curl and your lungs scream his name. It spurs him on, and he starts to pound into you in earnest, his brow dampening with the effort, grunting with each spike. Curling his body down to capture your breast in his hot mouth, making you arch your back and push up against his tongue, his teeth, teeming with desperation for him, wanting him to leave his marks on your skin. 

The sturdy king-sized bed begins to protest with the force of his harsh thrusts. All you can do is cling on, feeling so utterly invaded. The brush of his pubic bone catches enticingly against your clit, still so slippery and throbbing but not quite enough to push you over. 

You insinuate a hand between your bodies to touch your clit, but he grasps your wrist when he realises what you are doing, his pace never wavering.

“That's my job, darling,” he scolds, and then a thumb lands heavily on your clit, flicking in time with each thrust. 

You cry out and wrap your arms around his neck; eyes closed, biting his earlobe as he pants into the crook of your neck. The unrelenting pace and his fingers are too much. He doesn't even have to say another thing, just the feel of him engulfing you, taking you so harshly his cock is like a hot spike piercing you open and that thumb circling your nub, and you are calling his name and fracturing around him. Your heartbeat is pounding loud as fireworks dance behind your eyelids, your cunt clenching so hard you can hear him growling to not ever fucking stop and how he wants to die inside you, fucking you. But it's all through a gauzy filter, as you somehow float out of your body as if among the Moroccan stars but also grounded in your body as you convulse, each cell in your body alive and electric. The sensation seems to roll on forever, notching across your skin, as you feel him still over you, then his hips jerking violently as he comes deep inside you, his mouth slack on your throat.

You take deep racking breaths in sync, the frenzy passing, left with nothing but a bone-deep feeling of satisfaction that makes your inside feel molten and your brain pleasantly fuzzy. Anthony rolls next to you and pulls you into a dewy embrace, both of your bodies covered in a sheen from the exertion. His hands swirl delicate patterns on your skin as you nestle into him, your lips over the slowing hammering of his heartbeat in his jugular. 

“Was it worth the wait, Viscountess?” his voice a deep sonorous tease; you can feel his smile against your sticky forehead.

“Oh god, yes,” you confess elatedly, giggling and wrapping your arms tighter around his ribs, shiting to bury your face into the fuzz of hair on his chest.

He chuckles and strokes your hair, dropping a kiss on your hairline.

“The first of many memorable anniversaries, I promise,” he whispers as you start to drift off, the exhaustion of a thrilling, memorable day catching up with you.

You can’t wait.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[savanaclaw1996]

Heart of a Lion-Leona Kingscholar x Fem! Reader! (Birthday Fic)

Happy Birthday to our favorite Dorm Leader of Savanaclaw and lion prince, Leona Kingscholar! Happy birthday, my beloved king of my heart!🎂🦁💖 Also, major thanks to the beautiful Miss Raven for lending me her fic as reference and mongpht for the language of flowers. Thank you!

Warnings: mentions of Chapter 2 spoilers!

Word Count: 2,043 words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wandered around the town below the hill where the prestigious Night Raven College sat. Finally, you spotted the place you were searching for: the jewelry shop.

You remembered the day Cater took you, Ace, Deuce and Grim out shopping for some plates and cups since Grim accidentally broke them. As you browsed around the jewelry shop, you spotted a beautiful golden ring sitting in a display case.

There was a regal golden lion's head carved into the ring and you could see the inscription carved inside the ring, "Heart of a Lion". You smiled. "That ring would look perfect on Leona-senpai's finger." you thought. "And it somewhat matches his nobility...in a way."

Even when you arrived home, the image of that ring had never left your mind. "Once Leona's birthday arrives, I'll get that ring for him." you promised yourself. And so, before the month of July came, you worked hard at Azul's Mostro Lounge daily to earn enough money to buy that ring as a birthday present for Leona.

Once you've scrimped and scraped enough money, you didn't hesitate to head towards the jewelry store and purchase the ring. Once you made your purchase, you quickly headed back to Night Raven. Just in time for the birthday celebrations at Savanaclaw.

The party at Savanaclaw was a blast! Balloons of coconut white, muddy brown and charcoal grey dotted the green shrubbery near the waterfall. Beneath the waterfall, glowing leaf lanterns floated idly in the water.

On the buffet table, there were apple fritters, courtesy of Epel, hamburgers, potato salad, shish kebabs, barbequed misuji meat, exotic fruits and in the center, a large, three-tiered cake with white vanilla icing and chocolate and mocha-flavored crispy pearls.

Leona stood at the very center of the lounge, clad in his blue mage birthday robes. You swear you've never seen anyone more handsome than Leona. He looked like a true mage in those robes.

Cater was with him, phone in hand. He was to be his birthday interviewer. As you approached them, you heard Leona answer Cater's first question, "If I'm going there by flight, I'd like a place that's in the middle of nowhere that not many people go to."

When Cater replied that it'll be difficult to enjoy touring and leisure, Leona responded that he just wanted to relax and that in a quiet environment where no one will disturb him, he wanted to sleep calmly.

You felt your heart sink a little when you heard his words. You've always known that Leona wasn't always the social type. He much preferred his own company rather than anyone else's.

Even though you've had a huge crush on him for quite the longest time, you doubted if he'd ever have feelings for you, too.

"A quiet place where no one will disturb you. You're right, that doesn't sound like a bad way to spend the time." Cater replied. Leona smirked. "Right? As a dorm leader and club captain, I usually always have something to worry about." he said. "It means I need time to rest my body and mind sometimes."

You rolled your eyes at that. "Obviously." you thought. Then Cater asked Leona the final question. "What's something you'd like to do in the upcoming year?"

"Not be held back, that's all." Leona replied simply. Neither you nor Cater were prepared to hear that answer at all. Were you going deaf, or did you clearly hear Leona say that he wasn't going to be held back? "Wh...! Huh, that's all?!" Cater asked in disbelief.

You couldn't help but smile at his answer. You heard that he held himself back for over 3 years because of poor attendance and him not putting any effort in studying. But you knew better.

Leona has always held himself back because he didn't want to go through the painful hassle of the palace life. Being the second-born prince, he always got the short end of the straw. Always being overlooked, no matter how hard he worked to be recognized.

You thought back to the time of that inter-dorm Magical Shift Tournament. When you and your friends found out that Leona was the mastermind behind the incidents, you confronted him. And that was when you saw the emotions in his eyes.

He looked frustrated, angry that everything he had worked so hard for had slipped through his fingers yet again. And when Lilia rebuked him, saying that a collar fits him more than a crown would, and that he would never be king, the words felt like a final nail in the coffin for Leona.

Watching Leona become so broken and defeated, you couldn't help but feel your heart break at the sight of him. You even heard how hollow his voice sounded as he spoke. "This agony, this despair. How could any of you possibly understand?!"

And then, his Overblot happened. After you managed to defeat him, you glimpsed at his past memories. Being badmouthed by the servants of his palace, being pressured by his desire to be respected and recognized, trying to best himself against Malleus but failing...

Even though Falena, Leona's brother and King of Sunset Savannah tried his best to support his little brother, Leona just coldly brushed him off, not wanting his pity.

When you both woke up, you saw that Leona was willing to do his best at the tournament. Even after Savanaclaw lost the match, you were somewhat happy to see Leona being determined to win next year's match, even though you don't agree with his underhanded methods.

As time went on, even though it wasn't noticeable at first glance, you could see the steps of progress Leona has made, little by little. Even though he was still lazy, languid and downright arrogant, you could see the bits of kindness, determination and will to live shine through.

Even now, you felt a sense of pride and joy for Leona for making it this far. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the memories flashed through your mind. "Leona-senpai..." you whispered, holding back a choked sob...

"Hey, herbivore!" Leona's baritone voice cuts through your thoughts like a blade, snapping you out of your musings. "How long are you going to stand there?"

"Oh, right! I need to give him his gift!" Without wasting another second, you hurried over to his side with the little black box with a golden bow in your hand. Leona raised an eyebrow as he watched you approach him with something hiding behind your back.

"So, you came to wish me a happy birthday, huh?" he asked with a smirk. "Well, ain't that admirable of you. So, what did you bring me, then? At the very least, you are presenting a gift to royalty. As such, I'm sure you've prepared a very fine gift."

You froze, starting to panic. A fine gift? Well, it is pretty expensive. Will he like it, though? You were starting to get anxious.

"I'll take it off your hands, so show me what you got behind your back, already." Leona demanded, holding out his hand. You gulped silently. "Well, here goes nothing. I hope he likes it." you thought as you handed him the black box.

Leona opened the box and saw the ring. "Huh. A gold ring." he said casually. "I've got plenty of those, you know." You nodded, knowing how much jewelry he has, being a wealthy prince and all.

"This ring is different, though." you said. This was it. It was time to confess how you felt towards him. You took a deep breath before you started to explain. "There's a reason why I picked that ring for you, senpai. I picked it because it reminds me of you."

"Leona, I understand that you've been through a lot over your lifetime. Everything from your childhood to your Overblot episode to now. That ring you hold in your hand symbolizes strength, courage, resoluteness and nobility."

"The words etched in that ring say, "Heart of a Lion". I sincerely believe that you do have the heart of a lion, despite what others say and think of you. Even though you can be lazy at times, arrogant, smug, bossy, snide..." Cater snickered at your descriptions.

"True." he whispered. Leona shot him a quick glare, telling him to shut up as you continued. "...You truly care about other people, even though you never show it outwardly. Leona Kingscholar, please consider this ring as a token of my unchanging love and support to you." you said as you gave him a small bow of respect.

"No matter what happens, I hope that you will be able to go beyond, to be able to reach for the stars, even though they seem very far. I have absolute faith that you will."

Leona was silent as he listened to your little speech. After you finished, a short silence fell upon the lounge. You wondered if he thought your speech was too boring and silly. You lifted your head, and you were about to apologize when you saw the smile on Leona's face.

"So I have the heart of a lion, huh?" Leona asked, admiring the golden lion ring. He looked at the inscription in the ring and smiled. "Guess you've got some taste, herbivore."

Your heart swelled with joy when you saw Leona slip the ring onto his index finger. He held up his hand, the golden ring glimmering in the light. "Thank you. It's a very meaningful gift." Hearing those thankful words coming from Leona, you smiled as more tears streamed down your cheeks.

A soft sob escaped from your throat as you tried to swallow the lump in it. "How embarrassing. Crying in front of Leona on his birthday? What's the matter with you?!" you berated yourself mentally.

You raised your arm in a frantic attempt to dry your tears, but they just kept coming. "Please, just stop crying!" you silently pleaded. You then noticed movement coming towards you and you looked up at Leona.

Your cheeks flushed red. But before you could apologize for putting on such a babyish display, Leona wrapped his arms around you, embracing your body. "Le-Leona?" you asked, feeling your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"It's okay, herbivore. You're just happy, right?" Leona whispered in your ear. You nodded. "Sorry about that." you apologized. Leona shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Thanks."

You smiled. "You're welcome." Cater held up his phone, capturing that sweet, tender, loving moment on video. Leona will have to deal with him later...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, it was time for Leona to take off on his broom. As you and Leona walked down the cobblestone path of Main Street, Leona then reached towards his broom's bouquet and plucked out a golden orchid.

He held it towards you. "For you, herbivore, as thanks for the speech." he said. You know what that orchid meant. In the language of flowers, the golden orchid symbolizes love, luxury, beauty and strength.

Leona had all those: strength, beauty, luxury and love. You hoped that one day, with your perseverance, love, courage and strength, you'll be able to stand by his side as his beloved queen.

You smiled as you took the orchid from his hand. "Thank you, Leona." you replied gratefully. "Happy birthday, my beloved king."

Leona gave you one last wink before he hopped onto his broom and flew off into the night, leaving behind a trail of golden petals and sparkles.

As Leona soared higher and higher, he looked up at the evening sky. Thousands upon thousands of bright, shining stars dotted the inky darkness, some of them streaking across the heavens, leaving behind trails of stardust.

Back in his homeland, the stars were said to be the great kings of the past watching over everyone down below. Your words echoed in his mind, "No matter what happens, I hope that you will be able to go beyond, to be able to reach for the stars, even though they seem very far. I have absolute faith that you will."

As Leona gazed at the glittering golden lion ring on his finger, a great spark of hope ignited within his heart. "One day," he silently vowed, "my story will be told throughout the ages. My star will be shining the brightest, the greatest of them all. And (Y/N)'s alongside mine." And he will see to it that that promise comes true.

[boykissr]

TIGHNARI ( RELATIONSHIP ) HCS !

tighnari x gn!reader

cw: character has not been released yet !!!!! i know nothing abt sumeru or tighnari i just rly wanna kiss him. ooc character !!!! nonsensical ramblings basically ( keep in mind that this is my first fic, please be nice <3 ) unedited :)

ur probably either a forest ranger or an adventurer

ygs spend like 24/7 together. not that you're complaining, but,,,,,

u two are basically attached at the hip

he is. so sweet to you??? always looking out for the both of you, too, as well as collei. after all, the forest is a dangerous place

oh, you're definitely a plant parent. you have so many plants in the house, sometimes it feels like you're still in the forest itself

he teaches u abt all the plants!!!! all of them!!! he jus wants to make sure that you don't poison yourself foraging, that's all... definitely not bcz he's excited to share so much knowledge w/ u.....

lunches!!!! in the rainforest!!!!! tighnari cooks, ofc. malewife material fr

he's made u learn so much abt the forest.. you dont even kno how u still remember it all tbh

after living together for a while, u begin to cultivate a love for all the things he teaches u abt. seeing him so excited makes u excited too <3

ima be honest when ygs started dating you weren't even sure if u were official or not, since he just. never addressed it???

after maybe your fifth or sixth date you finally asked. he said that he thought u both had already been in a relationship for weeks

"don't eat that"

he worries for u when ygs go out in the forest together

he rants abt his day to you <33 its amazing when he gets all sassy when talking abt something/someone that annoyed him

he was kinda hesitant abt u touching his ears n tail for a while..

like, it took quite a long time for him to trust u w/ that

when he does tho!!!!! he absolutely loves it

starts complaining if u dont brush his tail for him before bed

you give each other little presents u found in the forest. a shiny rock one day, a pretty leaf the next. every gift seems sweeter than the last

being w/ him u either have a lot of connections as well, or you're like completely oblivious to who ppl are

when you're sad, he tries to make u happy by making jokes or distract u by telling a story

most of the time those succeed in cheering you up

if that tactic doesn't work, he'll ask what he can do to help u, and is v quick abt it once you say what you need

silent evening moments where u 2 sit outside and just listen to the sounds of the forest <3

so many. books. everywhere.

u better love reading and learning when ur w/ this guy

on that note,,,, your birthday.

first thing, he'll give u a pretty potted plant <3 it probably does something as well- like perhaps it has healing properties, or it grows edible fruits. smth like that

u think that that's his only present to u

he then takes you to the market / bizarre and lets u pick out one thing- anything you want

then later he might take u to the forest to maybe look at cool plants and stuff!!!! to maybe calm down from all the noise n being around so many ppl

when he takes u back to ygs place, there suddenly a cake on the dining room table!!!!! omg haha when did that get there

he tells u that tbh he didnt know what the hell a "birthday cake" was.

he had to ask around a bit, and go thru some books. and then bake it himself, and successfully hide it from u and keep it preserved for the whole day

after cake you guys just sit porch / veranda and talk while the sun sets

i love him sm guys :(

[greetingfromthedead]

Things are getting messy so have a masterlist of masterlists and other short stories.

Find all the info you need about my writing below the cut!

Trigun

Vash x Reader

Tempest Wind Masterlist (COMPLETED 18+ series, F!Reader)

Womanizer (F!Reader)- confined spaces affects Vash in a strange way and he has turned on his charm to try and seduce you.

Perfect Morning (GN!Reader)- domestic fluff, intimacy, mild smuttiness, shy Vash

Festivities (GN!Reader)- delusional bliss on an unfamiliar planet with weird traditions, ice skating and sweet Vash

Burn (18+, F!Reader) - basically smuttiness with little actual plot

Desire (18+, F!Reader) - no plot, just porn. Often the quiet and shy ones surprise you...

Vash's Moving Castle (GN?Reader, might turn into a series) - A strange building made up of old spaceship parts, moving around on two legs across the wasteland of the desert, it hisses and creaks and fills the heart of many with fear... That castle is home to the magnificent tech wizard Vash, infamous for both his gunmanship and for being a womanizer—or so the rumor goes in your city. You're the eldest child of a gunsmith and as such don't expect much from your future. However, your simple life takes a turn for the exciting when you're ensnared in a disturbing situation, and the mysterious tech wizard appears to rescue you.

Just What You Need (GN!Reader short) - You wake up from your nap groggy as ever, but Vash knows how to make you feel better.

A Little Cold (GN!Reader short) - You catch a cold and Vash is there to take care of you.

Happy Birthday (GN!Reader) - You find yourself on a furry side quest and it turns into a very special birthday celebration that Vash puts on for you.

Wedding Bells (Bride!Reader) - You didn't really think too hard about your wedding day, planning to perhaps sign a paper and then go celebrate with drinks, but both you and Vash had made a promise to Lena and Granny to include them and once Meryl and Milly found out, the event took on a life on its own.

Little Feet (Dad!Vash x F!Reader) - After you save humanity, you start living your happily ever after and a year after your wedding, a whole new chapter begins in your life as you and Vash navigate through the trials and tribulations of having children of your own.

Plantheat (18+, F!Reader) - About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.

Stormy Night (SingleDad!Vash x F!Reader) - After the culmination of Knives's plans, life took on a different rhythm for Vash and he turned a new leaf with you, hoping to leave the pain of the past behind, but forgetting that he seems to be cursed to bring death to those he loves most in life.

Ghost of You (SingleDad!Vash x Dead!F!Reader) - Your death haunts Vash for years, filling his dreams with nightmares, but for his twins, he will put on a brave face and do whatever it takes to make their childhood a happy one.

A Set of Five Hugs (GN!Reader) - Five occasions, worthy of a hug. (5 drabbles)

Magic!AU Mortal Companion (GN!Reader) - In a world of magic, there are those who shun it and a magic user will do what they have to to stay safe and undetected.

Knives x Reader

Shepherd Story 1 (GN!Reader) - In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who leaves behind merciless blizzards and famine wherever he goes on his eternal search for his other half he fell for many millennia ago.

Shepherd Story 2 (18+, F!Reader) - Nature has gone through it's cycle and the god is back to visit you again and share a night of passion.

Shepherd Story 3 (GN!Reader) - A sense of routine has arrived as you fulfill your duties and wait for his return.

Sanctuary (GN!Reader, WIP series Kiss With a Fist) - After finding yourself at Death's door you seek sanctuary from your longstanding foe Knives.

Masquerade (GN!Reader, WIP series Kiss With a Fist) - You find yourself swept away into the world of fairy tales with gilded halls and foreign music. The one and only partner there is the man you've been locked in a deadly dance with many times before.

Plantheat (18+, F!Reader) - Knives calls on you, a scientist whose interests in him are beyond just scientific, to him with the offer to help him get rid of his undesired affliction plaguing him once a year. Ensues a power play and a lot of rutting.

Wolfwood x Reader

Bound (18+, F!Reader) - Lucky you've found an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere where Wolfwood can play the villain to his heart's content. Who am I kidding? There is no plot here.

Green Horror (GN!Reader) - You catch a cold and Wolfwood has a magic remedy you aren't too happy with.

Marvel Cinematic Universe

This is from like 5+ years ago, but oh well, let it chill here.

Masterlist

You can also read my stuff on other platforms: AO3! Quotev! Wattpad!

[v4narana-w0nderl4nd]

Aranaras hosting reader's birthday is stuck in my head. I can imagine them trying their very best to put up a banner and decorations set to be up in high places like you'll stumble upon a 5'6 tower of aranaras moving around to put ribbons and flowers above their houses to surprise you. Idk I just love the idea of those little cabbages trying so hard to make you happy.

Happy Birthday, Nara!

-> Pure fluff, extremely small amount of crack unfortunately

-> Slight hint of SAGAU

Tw: Roblox woman face 🥰🥰🥰

It was your birthday, but this year, you didn't celebrate it with your family and friends as usual.

In fact, you wondered if your birthday was even going to be celebrated.

Ever since you were isekai'd to Genshin Impact, you were hunted down by your favorite characters, even NPCs.

Until a clan(?) of small sentient cabbages, who you recognize as the aranara, came to your aid.

Though, you're still not sure if they even know of your birthday.

It's currently 3 PM, or so you thought.

You can't really tell, you lost some sense of time since arriving in Teyvat.

But, it was getting late, so you went back to Vanarana.

Normally, some aranara would greet you while walking around. But this time, Vanarana felt... empty.

Until you heard a loud crash.

You ran to the area, slightly scared that the forest rangers, or Eremites found Vanarana. So you peek a bit from a tree to see...

All the houses around decorated in flowers, vines and... sugar cubes..?

Along with 4 or 5 Aranara, stacked on top of each other trying to hang some leaves on a rope attached to two trees, with the leaves spelling out

"H-P-A-Y-P R-T-I-H-B-A-Y-D"

Meanwhile, about 3 aranara, who you assume are Arashakun, Aravinay and Arakanta, are passed out on the ground. Aravinay sits up, rubbing his head(?). Araprabhu, standing right in front of the three, lecture them for their clumsiness.

Meanwhile, you look to the left to see Arapacati lecturing her brothers, who insist on adding mushrooms and fruits on to the cake(?) sitting on top of the table, untouched. Beside the cake is a flowercrown, made with all your favorite flowers, and being held together by a ribbon.

You then look to the right to see Arama and Arana discussing about something. Beside them, you see Arakavi, Arasudraka, Arayasa, and Aradasa, all four of them practice singing a loooooong tune.

Carefully, you step forward and..

Oh no, you stepped on a crunchy leaf.

[CĶŔÒŒNCH]

All the aranara stop whatever they're doing to turn and look at you.

.

.

.

Anyways, after the awkward silence, the some aranara apologize for making the surprise take so long, while some drag you to the present table.

You had a looooong night, filled with eating cake (that was so sweet it could give you diabetes, but you enjoyed it anyways, + it tasted kind of like vanilla, with zaytun peaches in the middle), solving riddles with araesha, running(?) with Arakanta and finally, watching Arakavi and his group sing.

Despite how long it was, it was fun, especially when Arasaka somehow got high on sugar and began eating all sugar cubes hung on top of the other aranara's houses