#they love each other as fiercely now as they did in the beginning

[starfishride]

I wanna write grown up Jon/Dami with the latter being a benevolent Ra's al Ghul and the former being his touchstone for morality.

[winterzsurprise]

Ride me? || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader

Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.

This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome

Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.

You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.

Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.

You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.

It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.

So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.

He came earlier than expected.

"How'd the chase go?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Come here." 

Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."

His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.

"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"

You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.

You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."

"Then ride me."

You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.

His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.

"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."

Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.

"You are a convincing man."

"And you love it."

You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body. 

His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.

"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."

"Rip it then."

He didn't need to hear you twice. 

In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.

"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"

"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."

"I don't care, get rid of the suit."

His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.

"Let me prep you real good, huh?"

Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.

"So wet for me, mi amor."

"Only for you, guapito."

Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.

His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.

And it's only a finger in.

"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."

He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.

Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.

Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.

You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.

But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.

"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"

"Give it to me baby, I want it all."

It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.

A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.

And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.

"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."

You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.

It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.

And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.

Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."

He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.

He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.

"Fuck…!"

"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."

The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.

Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.

"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"

"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."

The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.

With a scream, you came. 

Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.

But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.

You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed. 

Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.

"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"

His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.

The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.

And with that, he's dragging you down with him.

"Please please please, give it to me…!"

"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."

With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.

When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same. 

As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.

"I love you so much, cariño."

"I love you more, guapito."

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Feels like I’m drowning

pairings - topper x reader x rafe

summary - a threesome with your boyfriends best friend.

warnings - threesome, slapping, hair pulling, name calling, choking. (18+)

A/n- based of a TikTok I seen. Also listen to feel like I’m drowning by two feet to get the full experience. Love you!

Your palms pressed firmly against his chest, rolling your hips painfully slow. His cock slipped, in, out. Torturing your sensitive hole, he sat back against the couch with his hands behind his head.

Hooded eyes watched you get yourself off, using his cock to bring you pleasure. “Look so pretty riding my cock baby girl” he hummed, his stomach muscles clenched with each drop of your hips. Your ass bounced harshly against his lap, your arousal soaked his thighs.

Gnawing on your lip and squeezing your eyes closed, your tits bounced wildly as you chased your high. You were so entranced in the pleasure you didn’t hear the door open or close, you didn’t feel the presence of a body behind you. But you did feel fingers grip the root of your hair and pull your head back sending a shockwave down your spine, your eyes flying open to catch Rafe’s ocean blue eyes staring down at you.

“Topper!” You exclaimed, a warm feeling settled in your lower belly at the way Rafe’s eyes dropped to your lower half. Mesmerized by the way your boyfriend's cock disappeared within you. Any form of embarrassment left the room as your hips continued their movements under the lust filled eyes of Topper's best friend. That familiar tingle creeps from your toes up, your pussy pulsating around your boyfriends cock. “You like that huh?” Rafe questioned, you found yourself nodding moving your hips faster against Topper’s cock pushing him deeper. “Like riding his cock while I watch?”

You bottom lip trapped between your teeth you nod once more, the grip on your hair is fierce and it sends shivers down the back of your neck. Topper’s hand moves from behind his head and palms your breast, teasing your hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You let out a strained moan when his mouth envelopes your breast, sucking harshly against the bud. “Such a little slut hmm, fucking him in front of his best friend.. let’s get him deeper”

His hand drops from your hair to your shoulder, he pushes you down further. Topper’s cock buried deep inside of you, a mix between a moan and choke crawls up your throat. “Oh fuck” you cry, your cunt splits in half from you boyfriends thick cock. Your arms wobble and your body begins to fall forward but Rafe is quick to grip your biceps, he helps you grind against Topper’s cock. “She’s a pretty thing” Rafe says, his eyes on his best friend. Topper nods, his balls ache as he closes in on his orgasm. “The prettiest of things” Rafe can sense the ending and grips your hips bringing you up and down roughly, your head falls back onto his shoulder. “Have some fun with her” Topper says, nodding his head to Rafe who is quick to pull you from his cock and spin you around. Your legs wobble for a brief moment before your boyfriend's cock is buried deep within you again, you face Rafe now with your legs spread over Topper’s lap.

“Come on baby, open your mouth for him” Topper demands, his hands grip your hips and resumes fucking you. You turn your head to look at your boyfriend who nods his head and reaches between your legs, toying with your aching clit. Bringing your face back to Rafe, you watch him intently as he pulls his shirt over his head. Saliva pools in your mouth as the sight of his body, swallowing harshly when his pants hit the floor and you're graced with the sight of his long cock. “Fuck.. oh” you shriek, you can feel your orgasm brewing. Your walls are shaking, sucking Topper in deep. “Open your mouth”

Your tongue drops out and you stare up and Rafe from your thick lashes, he steps closer his cock bobs infront of you. Your hand grips his hip and your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, Rafe is impatient and grips the back of your hair again, pushing the tip of his cock into your mouth without warning. “Shit” Topper growls as your cunt tightens harshly around his cock, your tongue tastes the tip of his cock briefly before sucking him deep into your throat. “Fuck… no gag reflex. Been holding out on me mate” Rafe grunts, both men grin at one another before looking back at you. It’s a picture worthy sight. Topper’s thick cock buried into your cunt while your mouth devours Rafes long cock.

The grip he has on your hair is borderline painful but you have no strength to move, letting him use you like a toy, Topper’s palm meets your ass with a sharp slap. You whine around Rafes cock causing him to jerk roughly in your throat, tears spill from your eyes as he assaults your mouth. “She’s close, her fucking pussy is shaking” Topper groans, holding onto his own climax. His balls are heavy and painful, he wants to come but he won’t. Not until you're shaking around his cock. “Such a dirty slut… who knew y/n would be into 2 dicks at once” Rafe laughs.

With one final thrust you see stars, your gripping Rafe tightly by the hips as he thrusts into your mouth. Your orgasm blinds you, sending you into another realm. Your pussy pulsating around Topper’s cock, milking him until he’s dry. Your moans and cries are muffled by Rafes cock, his own orgasm creeping up on him. “I’m gonna cum.. open that pretty little mouth wider” he groans, pushing himself deep into your throat. You swallow his load with a splutter, his fingers grip your jaw tightly to stop you from falling as he pulls out of your mouth. “Taste every last drop”

His thumb pushes his cum that drips from your lips back onto your tongue, your mouth closes around his thumb and sucks harshly. “Good girl”.

Your eyes are wide at the sight of his still hard cock, the tip red like a lollipop. He hooks his arms under your armpits and pulls you from your boyfriend roughly who’s cock slips out of your abused cunt with a ‘pop’. “My turn”.

You're thrown onto all fours, your head falls to the side to catch your boyfriend's eyes. He stays seated, watching you with hungry eyes. You can’t help but glance down and notice his cock hard once more as though your pussy wasn’t enough to milk him dry. “Topper?” His eyes rake down the length of your body and up to your face, he gives you a soft nod and that’s all you need for your upper half to press firmly against the floor. “Shit… Topper you really have been keeping her from me.. look at that fucking fine pussy, she’s soaking”.

Rafes words have you clenching around air, pushing your bum backwards searching for friction. A loud slap rings through the air and pain shoots across your ass cheek, he had just spanked you. “Oh god” is all you manage to spit out, his hand meets your cheek again and you cry into the carpet.

Fingernails scratch at the soft material, with tears in your eyes you look behind you. Rafe kneels behind you, hard long cock between his fist. There is a deep crease between his eyebrows as he concentrates on pumping himself, his eyes shooting to yours when you begin to push yourself up from the ground slowly. His fingers grasp the ends of your long messy hair, with a harsh tug your cheek presses to his. “Look at your boyfriend… his cock is hard again… why are you just looking, touch him”.

You move slightly but he pulls you back again, wincing from the pain that shoots down your neck to your toes. “Don’t move slut… you're going to take my cock and suck his”.

His hand pressed firmly to your shoulder blades and pushed you down, you watched your boyfriend move from the couch slowly. Kneeling in front of you, his eyes are soft when they land on you. A stark difference to the man who kneels behind you and painfully grips your hips. “Suck it”.

Toppers fingers lace through your hair, your mouth opens for his cock, tongue circling his pinkish tip slowly. A sharp noise falls from his lips when you swallow him deeply, he can feel the back of your throat. “Such a good girl” Topper hums, he lets you move your mouth against him slowly, never pulling or gripping your hair.

Rafe on the other hand lines his cock at your seeping hole and juts into you, your choke is muffled by Topper's cock. Forcing yourself not to clench your jaw at the sudden intrusion, you're sensitive from before but Rafe doesn’t care.

His cock moves in and out of you with such force your body juts forward taking Topper in deeper until your nose touches his trimmed pubes. “Fucking Christ!” Topper shouts, you’ve never taken this deep before and he can’t think straight. “Taking our dicks so well.. like the little whore I knew you were”.

Your eyes meet Toppers, he gives you the smallest of smiles and you can’t help but clench around Rafe. You loved being called whore but you also loved being treated like a princess. “I’m not gonna last” Topper chokes, you can feel the veins in his cock throb. Reaching up to palm his balls, he’s spilling into your mouth before he can stop himself. “You can watch then… I’m not finished” Rafe states, his hand runs up the length of your back and skim around to your throat. Wrapping his fingers tightly and pulling you against his chest. “Look at those pretty tits bouncing… how fucking pretty does she look Top? Hmm? Been hiding this from me”.

Topper's chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at you, he’s not sure why he’s feeling so much pride. Loving Rafe complimenting his girlfriend, loving that he is the one who gets to take you home at the end of this. “She’s fucking beautiful” Topper agrees, you give him a half smile but its quickly removed and replaced with an open mouth moan. “Fuck!” You cry, Rafe gropes your breast roughly. Your nipples clamped between his fingers as he tugs, he’s moving you up and down against him. His cock hitting your g-spot with an almost painful thrust but that doesn’t stop you from growing wetter around him and breathing out yes yes. His lips bite and suck at the skin of your exposed neck, your mind is whirling. Unsure where to focus, his cock, his mouth or his hands. “Fucking Jesus Christ… y/n, your squeezing me so tight” he growls, your eyes are clenched shut but the feeling of your boyfriends hand on your stomach has them pinging open.

“Hey baby” he grins, his hand drops low and nestles itself between your folds. He’s quick to massage the needy bud, bringing you closer to your release. “Oh fuck.. Top”

His eyes look behind you for a moment and then back to you, Rafes hand falls from your tit and back to your throat. Topper's mouth envelopes your nipple in his mouth, you are shaking now. Gripping Topper's shoulder as Rafe quickens his pace, he mumbles dirty words into your ear which has you moaning and sobbing. “That’s it… come on you dirty slut, ride my cock like you love it… like it’s the only thing keeping you breathing”

Topper drops your breast and looks at Rafe, you watch with hooded eyes their silent conversation. Topper reaches between your legs and presses firmly to your clit, you let out a shriek. Your body shakes from the pleasure and the brutal thrusts from Rafe, he lets go of your throat and you fall forward slightly into Topper's chest. He lets you wrap your arm around his neck as he toys with your clit, his eyes stay on you as you close in on your orgasm. “She’s gonna cum”

Rafe quickens his speed at Topper's statement and pounds deep and fast into you, the sound of your wet cunt sucking Rafe deeper feels the room, your toes curl and heat runs down your spine as your orgasm bleeds through you. Squeezing your eyes closed as colors go off behind your eyes, jerking around Rafe as his own orgasm hits him, slow sloppy thrusts until he pulls out of you roughly. A sharp sting runs up your spine and you grip Topper tighter who’s fingers brush pieces of hair behind your ears. “Thanks Top and thanks for that sweet pussy y/n”.

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[mononijikayu]

“beautiful boy (darling boy)” — gojo satoru.

“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon.

NOTE: my classes were cancelled and i just played random music on my phone and this.....sort of sparked something. i sobbed to this, by the way. this might be my last one for now. i've just been frantically making these for the past few days. i'll come back after some rest!!! i love you all so much!!! <3

addendum: the character satoru chose for satoshi is '暁' which means dawn/daybreak; satoshi was born on the same day as his father in 2014.

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD COME TO THIS. He could remember it like it was yesterday, when you held out your hand and took his — placing them together on your belly. Your lilac eyes shone against his bright blue, full of wonder and anxiety. He was frozen at that moment. He was overwhelmed. 

Not even his six-eyes could keep up with his emotions, his thoughts. He knew it was an accident, he knew it wasn’t something both of you planned. But he was happy. He was all too happy that he scooped you in his arms, as though you were the treasure of the world and cradled you, whispering the most loving things, loving words ever known to any being.

It was never your plan to have children, not even with the pressure from the elders of your clans. There was never the time. There was never a sense of security. WIth what Satoru was planning to do, with what dangers there’ll be — just like he had experienced in youth, none of you wanted that for your child. And you wanted to help him, you wanted to do well by him. Satoru was your lifeline, your purpose to live was his goal. Your life with him was what made your life blossom in these past few years of marriage. But that changed too, with the bludding life growing in your belly.

You both cried that night, holding each other. It was hard to comprehend that this was happening, that a child had chosen both of you. You were glad that the Tsumiki and Megumi were at a sleep-over. They didn’t need to see you both so conflicted with your joy and your worries. No kid should be burdened by such a thing as the worries of the heavy world. 

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of evening casting long shadows on the walls. Satoru sat across from you, his cerulean eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—excitement, concern, and a fierce determination to protect. The news of your pregnancy had brought a bittersweet mix of joy and anxiety.

“We need to decide what to do next, darling.” Satoru said, his voice steady but laced with worry. “I don’t want you to suffer like my mother did. The multiple assassination attempts... I can’t let that happen to you.”

“We can’t tell the world, Satoru,” you said quietly with a soft nod. “The higher-ups could see this as an issue. There was a time when the passing of powers in the Gojo clan – similar to the Six-Eyes, was from father to son. They might see our child as a threat, Satoru….and I…I don’t want them to hurt our child.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in. “Then we keep this between us, Megumi, and Tsumiki. My mother….maybe your mother and Aunt Arisu can help us hide this from the world too. They’ll understand the importance of keeping this secret.”

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. “They will. They’ve always been supportive of us…and our plans. They’ll be kind to us about this too. It is their next of kin now, after all.”

For a moment, your husband looks at you. His free hand draped across your cheek and you looked at him so lovingly, leaning your head against the warm palm of his hand. He could feel how lucky he was. How beautiful you were. His eyes lowered at your belly and felt that same warmth glowing from within you, as welcoming and loving towards the person who had helped give such life to the growing seed in your belly. 

Satoru pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “I’m sorry, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with confusion. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “You’re the one who will suffer the most here, not me. The secrecy, the danger... it’s all on you. And all I can do is hold your hand. And I….”

You shook your head, resting your hand against his cheek. “Your hand is more than enough. You by my side is more than enough. All I have ever needed, all our child will ever need — is you. All they need is their father.”

“When did I ever deserve something as good as you in my life?”

You smiled at him, “Because you are good, Satoru. You’ve always been.”

“You’re the most important thing in my life.” He whispers to you, his hand on your belly. “You and our child.”

“We’re in this together, Satoru. I’m not alone in this.” You let your hand brush against his silver locks. “Because you’ll always be here, hm?”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I love both of you. And I’ll protect you with all I have.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “I love you too,” you whispered, feeling the strength of his love envelop you. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The next few days were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. Your mother and Aunt Arisu were brought into the fold, their wisdom and experience invaluable in devising a plan to keep your pregnancy a secret. They promised to support you in any way they could, offering their home as a safe haven where you could hide from prying eyes.

Megumi and Tsumiki were surprisingly understanding, their loyalty to you and Satoru unwavering. They vowed to keep the secret, to protect their future sibling from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the jujutsu world.

As the weeks turned into months, you found strength in the love and support of those around you. Satoru’s determination to protect you never wavered, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. Despite the secrecy and the danger, there was a sense of hope that carried you through each day.

And in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the love that bound you together. It was a love that would see you through the darkest of times, a love that would protect and nurture the new life growing inside you. And with Satoru by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The days leading up to Satoru's confrontation with Sukuna were heavy with unspoken fears and silent resolutions. Each moment felt borrowed, a fragile gift that could shatter under the weight of impending doom. You moved through your days with a heightened awareness, every touch, every glance laden with meaning. The anticipation was a living thing, a constant presence that neither of you could shake.

The last time you both saw your son was during separate visits to the ancestral manor. He knew you had been there, especially when you brought Yuuji along at his request. Satoru had visited him shortly afterward, driven by an insistent need to see his boy before the impending confrontation. The weight of the world seemed lighter, if only for a moment, as he thought of his son.

Satoru could only sigh, the longing in his heart palpable. He had yearned for Suguru for the past eleven, twelve years, a constant ache that never quite faded. Yet, this longing for Suguru, as intense as it was, paled in comparison to the deep, unyielding yearning of a father. He had missed his son so much, too much. The distance, both physical and emotional, had been a torment he could hardly bear.

Satoru was certain he remembered everything about his son. The boy was a spitting image of him—silver hair that fell a bit longer, the same striking blue eyes, though his son's were even darker, like the depths of the sea. But more importantly, he recognized the essence of you in every move, every quirk, every smile. Your son might look like Satoru, but in all the ways that mattered, he was you.

Satoru adored him the most in the world. Even if he loves you, there is truly nothing that’s going to encapsulate, translate how much he loves his little boy. Your son was a constant, beautiful reminder of the bond you both shared. Your son carried your grace, your kindness, and your strength. Every time Satoru looked at him, he saw the love and unity that defined your relationship. For that, he was profoundly grateful. For that, he was happy. There was a reminder of you, of him, together in this world, encapsulated in the boy who bore the best of both of you.

And here he was, newly sealed, recovering from all of it;

All he could think about was wanting to see your dear boy.

All he could think about was wanting to embrace him again.

"I want to go to Hida," he said, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. He looks to you softly, eyes full of yearning. “I wanna see him.”

"Are you sure?" you asked gently, searching his face for any hesitation. You purse your lips. “Satoru, it’s unsafe now. Are you sure?”

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "I want to spend as much time as possible trying to make sure our son understands that his father loves him."

You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the doubt that gnawed at him despite his resolute exterior. "Satoru, you're a good father." you assured him, but he shook his head, his expression conflicted. “You have put your own heart at hold to protect him. He understands.”

"I don't know if I'm doing it right or wrong," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I love our son as much as I love Megumi, as much as I love you. But I didn't have a father growing up. Mine died when I was young, and I don't remember him very well. My mother tells me that he loved a lot, but I don't know if I believe that."

You stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You love our son, and that's what matters most. He's always known that, even if you haven't been able to be there as much as you wanted. He sees it because you show him.”

Satoru sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled the moments he missed, the milestones he couldn't witness firsthand. "I want to be the best father to him, darling. I want him to know he's the most beloved son. That I love him the most in the world.”

"You already are, Satoru," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“We have to see him.” Your husband retorts back to you, a sad smile on his lips. “If this is the last chance—”

“It won’t be,” You shake your head at him. “You know that.”

“I know, but…” He sighs, resting his head against the crook of your neck. “I want to be sure. Nothing is bound, darling. I want to… I want to be able to leave him with something he can remember his old man by.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you both, the unspoken fears and the grim reality of what was to come. You could feel your throat choke up as you tried to banish the tears from your eyes. The thought of Satoru not being there hurt you.

Not only because you loved him, but because you knew your son loved him the best in the world. The thought of him becoming without the person he holds dear in the world, it tears you apart.

You want to believe that your husband was the title he was given. You knew he was strong. You believe he will overcome this. That’s why you keep putting off visiting your son. It was safer, it would be in the future that you and Satoru had fought so hard to fight for. But your husband was just a man too. A man who has a finite life and a heart too big for the world to comprehend. He was just Satoru. A husband, a father. A friend, a teacher. He was just like that. 

You look at him with a guilty look. You were selfish with him, with what you said. He needed you, he needed Satoru. Your son needed you both. As much as you needed him. What is protecting him from all these dangers, if you both weren’t there to love him either?

What is loving Satoru if you can’t be there for him either? If you can’t love him properly either? You took a deep breath. You’ve made up your mind. You will not deprive him of this. You would not be selfish with this. You would let him be selfish. You would let him live as he had never before. 

You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his muscles, the vulnerability he rarely showed. “You’re right. We will see him, my love.” you affirmed, your voice steady. “And we’ll make sure he knows how much he’s loved.”

Satoru’s eyes met yours, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “For understanding, for always being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you whispered to him tenderly as you kissed the small of his lips. “I should have been better with this.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry. You want to protect him too, I understand.” He tells you, a small smile on his lips. “Sukuna has familiarity with Hida, I know you’re wary about it.”

You nodded, the weight of your concerns evident in your eyes. “I just want to make sure he’s safe. That we’re all safe.”

Satoru’s smile softened, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “We’ll keep him safe. We’ll keep everyone safe. That’s a promise.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “We’re in this together, Satoru. Always.”

He kissed your forehead, a lingering touch that conveyed all the words he couldn’t say. “Let’s go to Hida,” he said finally. “Let’s spend this time with him, make memories that will stay with him.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of resolve settle within you. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ll make sure he knows how much he means to us.”

All of Satoru’s training was canceled for the next few days.

Everyone understood why and said nothing about any of it.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t be happier to enjoy the long trip.

Because the next he’ll get off the train, he’ll see his dear son.

ARRIVING IN HIDA WAS A REFRESHING THING. It was as though the looming war, the destruction, the suffering, did not exist. These precious days felt suspended in time, a haven of peace amidst the chaos.

Each sunrise brought with it a semblance of normalcy, a gentle reminder of the life you were fighting to protect. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything it touched.

As the days passed, you found moments of solace in the simple joys of being together. Satoru’s determination to be the best father he could be was palpable. He approached fatherhood with the same intensity and dedication he showed in his sorcery, and you admired the way he threw himself into the role with such fervor.

His playful nature shone brightly as he engaged your son in games, stories, and lessons. The bond between father and son grew stronger with each passing day, and it filled you with a sense of hope and reassurance.

Gojo Satoshi did not know much about the wider world beyond the confines of the carefully constructed life you and your family had built around him. But Satoru thought that was for the best. At his tender age, the complexities and dangers of the world could wait.

For now, Satoshi was wrapped in a cocoon of love and safety, his days filled with laughter and innocence. The little lordling of the Gojo clan had the privilege of being shielded from the harsh realities, existing in a world where he was cherished and adored.

“Young master Gojo, please do not run too much! You’ll slip!” His nurse-maid's voice rang out in a mix of concern and exasperation as she hurried after the energetic boy. Her normally composed demeanor was visibly frazzled as she struggled to keep pace with her lively charge. “Young master!”

“Heh, chase me! Chase me!” Satoshi's infectious giggle echoed through the gardens, his small feet moving quickly across the manicured lawn. His silvery hair, so much like his father's, shimmered in the sunlight, and his blue eyes sparkled with pure delight.

The scene was picturesque, the verdant greenery of the garden serving as a perfect backdrop to the boy's joy. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, and the gentle hum of insects added to the serene atmosphere.

Gojo Satoru watched from a distance, a soft smile playing on his lips. He saw so much of himself in Satoshi, from the boy’s boundless energy to the mischievous glint in his eyes. Yet, he also saw you in him—the kindness, the warmth, the innate ability to find joy in the simplest things.

Satoshi’s world was small but rich, filled with the love and attention of those who cared for him. He didn't know of the looming threats or the responsibilities that came with his lineage. Instead, his days were spent exploring the garden, listening to stories, and playing games. It was a simple life, but it was one that Satoru cherished deeply for his son.

The nurse-maid finally caught up to Satoshi, scooping him into her arms despite his playful wriggling. “Young master, you must be careful,” she chided gently, her tone softening as she adjusted his tousled hair. “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt. You are too important to be hurt.”

Satoshi pouted for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “Okay, I’ll be careful,” he promised, though the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was already planning his next adventure.

“Our little lordling is too bright for the sun, huh?” Satoru approached, his presence immediately noticed by Satoshi, who reached out eagerly. 

“Papa!” the boy exclaimed, his arms stretching towards his father.

With a warm chuckle, Satoru took Satoshi into his arms, lifting him high into the air. “Having fun, little lordling?” he asked, his voice filled with affection. “You were zooming out there, huh?”

“Yeah!” Satoshi replied enthusiastically. “We were playing chase, and I was winning!”

Satoru laughed, his heart swelling with love. “I’m sure you were. But remember to listen to your nurse-maid, okay? We don’t want any accidents.”

Satoshi nodded solemnly before breaking into giggles again. “I will, Papa.”

As Satoru held his son close, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. In these moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the pure, unadulterated love between a father and his child. He knew that soon enough, Satoshi would grow older and the realities of their world would become unavoidable. But for now, he was determined to protect this innocence, to ensure that Satoshi's world remained filled with laughter and love for as long as possible.

“Let’s go find Mama,” Satoru said, carrying Satoshi back towards the house. “I’m sure she’s missed you.”

Satoshi's eyes lit up at the mention of you, and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Let’s go find Mama!”

The path back to the house was lined with blooming cherry blossoms, their petals gently drifting to the ground with each breeze. Satoru walked with an easy grace, his son nestled securely in his arms. The house, an elegant blend of traditional and modern architecture, stood as a sanctuary amid the chaos of the outside world.

As they approached, the soft hum of your voice reached their ears. You were in the kitchen, preparing a meal, the aroma of freshly cooked rice and simmering soup wafting through the air. Your presence was a constant source of comfort and strength, grounding Satoru in ways he often struggled to articulate.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out excitedly as they entered the kitchen.

You turned, a warm smile spreading across your face as you wiped your hands on a towel. “There’s my little troublemaker,” you said, reaching out to take Satoshi from Satoru’s arms. “Were you having fun in the garden?”

Satoshi nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mama! We played chase, and I was winning!”

You chuckled, kissing his forehead. “I’m sure you were. Did you give the nurse-maid a hard time?”

Satoshi giggled, hiding his face on your shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

Satoru watched the interaction with a tender expression. “He’s full of energy today,” he commented, stepping closer to place a hand on your back. “How are you feeling?”

You glanced up at him, your eyes filled with understanding. “Better, now that you two are here.” You looked back at Satoshi, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Were you good for Papa?”

“Yes, Mama,” Satoshi replied earnestly. “Papa said we should always listen to nurse-maid.”

You smiled, giving Satoru an appreciative look. “That’s right. It’s important to be careful.”

Satoru's gaze softened as he watched you interact with Satoshi. Despite the looming threat of Sukuna, these moments of normalcy and love filled him with a fierce determination to protect his family at all costs.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” you said, turning back to the stove. “Why don’t you two wash up?”

Satoshi wriggled in your arms, eager to comply. “Come on, Papa!” he urged, pulling at Satoru’s hand.

“Alright, alright,” Satoru laughed, letting himself be led towards the bathroom. As he helped Satoshi wash his hands, he marveled at how such simple acts could bring so much joy.

After washing up, they returned to the kitchen where you had set the table. The meal was a humble but hearty spread, the kind that brought warmth and comfort to the soul. Satoru helped Satoshi into his chair before taking his own seat beside you.

As you all sat down to eat, Satoshi’s chatter filled the room, his stories animated and full of wonder. Satoru listened with rapt attention, his heart swelling with pride and love. He reached out to squeeze your hand under the table, a silent promise that he would do everything in his power to keep this happiness intact.

After dinner, you all settled in the living room. Satoshi, full and content, curled up next to you on the couch, his little head resting on your lap. Satoru sat beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, casting a serene ambiance over the scene.

Satoru looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “We’re going to be okay,” he said softly, his voice steady. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. “Together,” you echoed, your hand resting gently on Satoshi’s back.

“Papa, let’s go!” Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, his little hand tugging at Satoru’s sleeve.

“Hm? Where, little lordling?” Satoru asked, his voice warm with affection.

“The koi pond!” Satoshi replied eagerly, his enthusiasm infectious.

Satoru looked at you, seeking your opinion. You nodded and offered him a warm smile. “Why not? It’s too nice today and it’s refreshing after a long play, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” Your husband nodded to you before turning his attention back to your son, his grin widening. “Does my little lordling want to be carried by papa, or is he wanting to be a big boy and walk?”

Satoshi puffed out his chest with pride, his tiny hands clenched into determined fists. “I’ll walk, Papa! I’m a big boy!”

Satoru chuckled, patting Satoshi’s head affectionately. “That’s my boy. Lead the way, then.”

The three of you made your way to the koi pond, the garden bathed in the golden glow of the moonshine The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of owls settling down for the evening. It was a tranquil scene, a stark contrast to the turbulent world outside your home.

The tranquil scene was framed by vibrant greenery and the soft murmur of a nearby stream. They were watching the koi fish swim lazily in the pond, their colorful scales glinting in the moonlight. Your son was immediately chattering excitedly about something he’d learned, his voice a melodic blend of enthusiasm and curiosity. Satoru listened intently, a fond smile playing on his lips.

Satoshi skipped ahead, his laughter ringing out like a melody. You and Satoru followed at a leisurely pace, hand in hand, savoring the peaceful moment.

As you reached the koi pond, Satoshi knelt by the water's edge, his eyes wide with wonder as he watched the colorful fish swim gracefully. “Look, Papa! The fish are so pretty!”

Satoru crouched beside him, pointing out different koi. “See that one with the golden scales? That’s the king of the pond. And that one over there, with the red spots, is the queen.”

Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with delight as he listened intently to Satoru’s explanations. “Can we feed them, Papa?”

Satoru glanced at you, and you smiled, pulling out a small container of fish food from your pocket. “Here you go, Satoshi. Just a little bit at a time, okay?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, carefully taking the container from you and sprinkling a small amount of food into the pond. The koi fish swarmed to the surface, their mouths opening and closing as they devoured the food. Satoshi giggled with delight, clapping his hands together.

“Papa, did you know that koi fish can live for over 200 years?” your son exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

Satoru nodded, his gaze never leaving your son’s animated face. “Really? That’s amazing, buddy. Imagine all the stories they could tell.”

Your son giggled, the sound pure and joyful. “Maybe they know magic, too!”

Satoru’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe they do. Maybe they’re the guardians of secret underwater realms.”

You and Satoru stood back, watching your son with fond smiles. “He’s growing up so fast.” you murmured, leaning into Satoru’s side. "Almost four already. He's not our baby anymore, hm?"

“He still is, y'know?” Satoru hummed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “but you're right. Soon, he’s going to grow up strong. Our beautiful boy, he’s always going to be loved, too.”

“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounded you, reminding you of the strength you found in each other. “This is everything we could ever want.

“It is.” Satoru agreed, his voice low and filled with emotion. “Everything is more than I imagined.”

As the moon echoed below the horizon, casting a warm evening glow over the garden, the three of you stood by the koi pond, savoring the simple joys of family and the promise of a future filled with love and hope. All Gojo Satoru had to do was defeat Sukuna. All he had to do was get this over with. Then all will be over. He’ll get to be with you. He’ll get to be with Satoshi. You could be a family in peace.

Gojo Satoru wouldn’t be the strongest then.

He could just be himself, he could just be this.

He could just be your husband, Satoshi’s father.

He can be a human being for the first time in his life.

“Papa, can we stay here forever?” your son asked suddenly, his eyes wide with innocence. Both of you look at him. “You and mama, can we all be here together?”

Your son's innocent question hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the simplicity of childhood dreams. Satoru's gaze softened as he looked down at your son, his expression a mixture of tenderness and wistfulness. It was a question that held a weight far beyond its years, touching on the deepest desires of the heart.

For a moment, neither of you knew quite how to respond. The idea of staying in this tranquil moment forever, frozen in time with your family by your side, was undeniably tempting. Yet, reality loomed on the horizon, with its uncertainties and responsibilities.

Satoru exchanged a glance with you, silently communicating the depth of his emotions. There was a longing in his eyes, a yearning for a life free from the burdens of duty and danger. But beneath it all, there was a fierce determination to protect what mattered most—your family.

With a gentle smile, you reached out and ruffled your son's hair. "We'll always be together, Satoshi. No matter what happens, we'll find a way to stay together."

Satoru's hand found yours, his grip reassuring and firm. "That's right, little lordling. We'll always be here for you, no matter where life takes us."

Your son's eyes sparkled with happiness at your reassurance, his small hand reaching out to clasp both of yours. "Promise?"

You exchanged a knowing look with Satoru, his expression mirroring your own determination. "Promise," you both said in unison, sealing the vow with a tender smile

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room as you lay entwined with your husband and son. In the tranquil silence of the night, you could hear the steady rhythm of their breathing, a comforting reminder of the love that bound you together.

Wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the ones you held most dear, that you found solace from the chaos of the outside world. Here, in the sanctuary of your shared love, you felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you.

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a serene smile graced your lips. In the arms of your beloved family, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would overcome them with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

“Satoru, my love.” you whispered, your hand entwined with his. “Thank you for being here. For being with us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, darling. You and our son… you’re my everything.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart. “And you’re ours. Always.”

The days turned into weeks, and the time for Satoru’s confrontation with Sukuna drew closer. But instead of being consumed by fear, you found strength in the love that surrounded you. The bond you shared with Satoru, the love you had for your son, and the support of your family gave you the courage to face whatever lay ahead.

On the last evening before Satoru was to leave with you, the three of you all gathered under the stars, the night sky a blanket of twinkling lights above you. Your son sat on Satoru’s lap, his head resting against his father’s chest.

“Papa, will you come back soon?” he asked, his voice small and filled with hope.

Satoru hugged him tightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll do everything I can to come back to you, buddy. You and your mama are my entire world. Papa can’t live without any of you.”

Your son nodded, content with his father’s promise. “Me too, papa.”

“Hm?”

“I can’t live without you and mama.” Your son whispers to his father, wiping his father’s tears tenderly. Satoru blinked at his son’s act. “So papa has to do well and come back, with mama?”

In that tender moment, the depth of the bond between father and son was palpable. Satoru's heart swelled with emotion as he gazed into his son's earnest eyes, filled with a love so pure and unconditional it took his breath away. With a lump in his throat, he tightened his embrace, savoring the warmth of his son's small body pressed against his own.

His voice was thick with emotion as he replied, "I promise, buddy. I'll do everything in my power to come back to you and mama. You both mean the world to me, and I can't bear the thought of being without you."

Your son's response was equally heartfelt, his voice soft yet resolute. "I believe in you, papa. We'll be waiting for you, always."

You leaned against Satoru, drawing comfort from his presence. “I love you so much.”

He takes a breath. “I love you too. With everything in me.”

The night was quiet, filled with the gentle sounds of nature and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in unison. As you closed your eyes, Satoru whispered a silent prayer, to any god listening above. If there ever was one. He prayed.

He wished that he could come home. He wished that he could be with you. He wished that he could watch Satoshi grow up. He wishes for that dream, for that hope, to come true.

That’s what all he could see as he lay there.

Shoko Ieiri looked him in the eyes as he struggled.

He smiles at her and then you, puddle full of tears.

“I love you.” He choked. “You and Satoshi, I love you.”

From faraway Hida, a boy sits by the koi pond and prays.

“I hope that my mama and papa return to good health soon.”

flashback epilogue

The hospital room was cast in a gentle, dim light, creating a serene atmosphere that belied the intensity of the recent events. Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders relaxed yet filled with a quiet strength as he cradled his newborn son,  little Gojo Satoshi, against his chest. 

With delicate care, he adjusted the soft blankets around little Satoshi, ensuring his newborn son was warm and comfortable. Despite the fatigue evident in his eyes, there was a palpable sense of wonder and tenderness in Satoru's touch as he looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms.

Meanwhile, you lay nearby, your form softened by the relief of finally finding respite after the long and arduous hours of labor. Your face, though etched with exhaustion, held a serene expression, a testament to the profound sense of fulfillment that accompanied the arrival of your precious child.

In that quiet moment, amidst the hushed sounds of the hospital room, the bond between parent and child blossomed, enveloping the room in an aura of warmth and love that seemed to transcend time itself. Satoru couldn’t be happier to carry his whole world in his arms.

Gazing down at the tiny bundle in his arms, Satoru felt a surge of overwhelming love wash over him. With a soft smile, he leaned in close to Satoshi's ear, whispering words of welcome and affection.

"Welcome to the world, my beautiful boy." Satoru murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "D’you know what your name is? What it means?”

The little boy cooed at his father’s words.

Satoru laughed softly, looking at him lovingly.

He was already so attentive towards his father.

“Mama and I decided together, y’know? Your name just had to be Satoshi.” Satoru takes a deep breath, smiling as the baby cooes again. “You’re satisfied, hm? But you’ll like the spelling more, little man.”

Satoru could only feel overwhelmed by what he felt.

He could only feel nothing but joy, nothing but elation.

The dawn was breaking, as it always had before this moment.

But now,  where his own dawn was in his hands, he just smiled.

“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."

There was a louder coo this time around.

He was more than happy, Satoru thinks.

And he couldn’t be happier than this moment.

This beautiful boy, his darling boy, his dawn.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to Satoshi's forehead, marveling at the precious life he held in his arms. "I love you so much, my son," he whispered, his heart overflowing with love and joy at the arrival of their little miracle. “My little dawn.”

[scarlet-star-witch]

yay... can you write one where you've heard all the nasty rumours about the Targaryens, especially how cruel they can be sometimes, but Aemond proves you wrong. He is sweet, kind, and compassionate towards you. You know he's not like that around other people, so you ask him why he acts different towards you.

Hope you like the request.

This took way too long for me write, but I hope this is what you were looking for!

Warnings: implied smut and a whole lotta fluff

WC: 3.2 K

~~

They say the Gods flip a coin when a Targaryen is born. Greatness or madness were the destinies that followed the otherworldly family. 

Closer to Gods than men, they would say. Quick to anger, that burned hotly, destroying those in its ruthless path.

That was all she knew of the Targaryen family. 

It was the only warning she had before she was shipped off to King’s Landing to marry the one-eyed prince. 

She knew nothing of her betrothed except for his reputation that gleamed nothing but anger and a fiercely cold nature. She didn’t want to listen to rumors, but she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive to meet the man of mystery that was Prince Aemond.

The night they first met, she had approached the table of royals, curtseying politely, her heart racing as she met the gaze of her betrothed for the first time. 

She smiled, hoping to start off on the right foot, but his expression never changed, beholding her as if bored, as if unmoved by the knowledge that she would soon be his wife. His disinterest seemed to confirm every fear she had. It left her shaken, the picture of a terrified woman at the altar who could barely meet the gaze of her new husband. 

The night of their wedding, she was terrified, practically trembling as he took her to bed. 

She had shut her eyes and prayed for the seconds to pass quickly. 

It had been awkward, stifling and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t awful. The pain was momentary and he didn’t take her like a mindless beast who only sought his own pleasure as she had been warned some men were known to act by her kind maids. 

Aemond only ever had gentle touches to give her. 

It was by no means the passionate love she had read about in books she hid from her mother, but she was at least grateful she bore no marks from a husband who only had anger to bestow upon her. 

Over the months together, they didn’t spare many words for each other. 

The Prince was polite and cordial, but their conversations never went any deeper than small talk that amounted to nothing important. 

She often found herself wondering if he even tolerated her, let alone liked her, but as the weeks passed and he stayed by her side, lingering in their chambers together, joining her for walks in the garden, did she begin to soften her opinion of him, no longer fearing his presence as she had in the beginning. 

Almost daily, she would spot him, his face impassive, almost hardened, but the moment he saw her his expression would lighten, a small smile growing as he approached her. 

He would always greet her politely and offer her his arm.

“Tell me about your home.” He asked her out of the blue one afternoon as they lounged under the shade of the Weirwood tree. 

She looked to her husband nervously, feeling exposed under his gaze that portrayed an undeniable curiosity. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Anything you would like to tell me.” He answered with a smile that brought one to her own lips. “I will gladly take anything you are willing to give me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, surprised by his words, so brazen, so unlike the man she had thought him to be. 

Before she could speak again, Ser Criston approached the pair and she watched as Aemond’s easy expression shifted so suddenly, his face now drawn tightly into a scowl. 

“My Prince, your mother is expecting your presence in her solar.” Ser Criston reminded him.

Aemond barely spared a moment of attention to the Knight, his hand squeezing hers as if in apology for the interruption of their time together.

“She will have to wait, Ser Crsiton. I am with my wife.” 

She knew that was a moment she would not soon forget, for it was the first time she felt as though her husband cared for her, the first time she realized he didn’t loathe their arrangement. 

There were moments, too many to count now, when she couldn’t help but wonder if he longed to be closer as she would feel his gaze on her, seeking her out no matter where they were. 

At every festivity, in the midst of crowds and countless lords pushing their way to bestow well wishes onto the royal family, it never failed that she always found Aemond’s eye, his attention focused solely on her. 

Her favorite would be the moments of quiet connection in the solace of their chambers. Her eyes would wander from the book she read to land on him, barely catching a glimpse of his face before he would quickly look away from her, as if not wanting to get caught admiring his own wife. 

It always left her breathless in ways she couldn’t explain, in ways she couldn’t make sense of. 

Despite the slowly growing bond, she felt lonely in her new home without her family, without a great love to lean on. 

Music was her only escape from the isolation. She often found herself in the grand hall, hours before the festivities were to start, dodging the servants that readied the tables, just to hear the musicians practice. 

They always spotted her and, as the months dragged on, no longer looked at her in annoyance, but would smile politely and play, as if just for her, enjoying their one woman audience who seemed to hold onto every note as if it meant the world to her. 

They indulged her in the many questions she asked about their music and their instruments, letting her have her moment of reprieve. 

At every feast, as she sat by her husband’s side, her gaze would remain on the band, admiring their work others in the room steadfastly ignored

One night, as she took in the music with tranquility, a gentle hand lay over her own, startling her out of her daze. She looked over at her husband with wide eyes, confused yet surprised by the gesture. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

She froze for a moment, taken aback by his question, but finally nodded, too surprised to answer with words. 

He took her hand in his, his touch soft, as if she were made of glass, as he guided her to the floor with the other dancing couples. 

They faced each other and Aemond wasted no time in laying his hand on her waist, bringing her in closer to him. 

She felt nerves creep through her as they danced. She could feel his eye on her as they twirled, as he brought her back into his arms, as he held her close. 

Finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze, she found his eye held nothing but light, a look of contentment watching her carefully. 

A flutter unfurled in her chest, a feeling she had never felt before. The way he looked at her made her cheeks heat and she could’ve sworn she saw him smile, as if he knew what he was doing to her. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if his touch was supposed to make her feel so cared for, if he knew it was making her melt. 

A part of her desperately hoped he did. 

~~

Aemond had been ready to write her off completely, to resign himself to the fact that he was to marry a spoiled girl who would cower at the sight of him. 

He’d had enough of meeting Ladies who flinched or outright winced at the sight of him and his scar, that whispered they could never lay with, let alone marry, a man with such a deformity. 

But the moment he met her, as she met his gaze with little hesitation, as she smiled his way, a gleam of hope in her eyes, did he feel as though his entire world tilted on its axis. 

It wasn’t until her smile faltered, her eyes averting from his shyly that he realized he hadn’t returned her smile, had only stared back at her as if disinterested. 

He had cursed to himself, close to letting Aegon smack him for being so hopeless. 

He could plainly see her fear on the day of the wedding, had whispered apologies he didn’t think she heard as he took her to bed for the first time, had tried his best to assuage her nerves, yet he knew it was because of him, because of that first damned look that he ruined everything before it even began.

 He longed to reach out to her, to apologize for his abysmal first impression, but he found he couldn’t muster the words, or the courage. 

So he settled for admiring her from afar, entirely discontented by the distance but unsure of how to bridge it. 

He spent his days with her, his mind torturously blank, no words coming to him to at least try to begin a bond with her, his sweet wife that never looked at him as though he was a deformed monster as the other ladies in the Keep had. 

He had no idea how, or that he was even capable of such a connection, but he couldn’t help but feel lighter in her presence. Knowing such a sweet woman who never had a harsh word to say about anyone, especially him, left him longing to bestow every praise and sweet nothing upon her. 

He never considered himself to be swayed by such romantic ideals, but whenever he was face to face with his wife, he found himself wishing he had spent more time perusing through the books of poetry in the library rather than the history tomes. 

He wished he had the words to tell her how absolutely magical he found her, how her smile lit any room she was in, how he wished he could bathe in her warmth, how much he appreciated that she looked at him so differently than any other lady in the court had. 

He found himself seeking her out any time he was not with her. 

“Have you seen my wife?” He asked a member of the White Cloaks, becoming desperate after having no luck finding her in the gardens or with Helaena or his mother. 

“There is a feast tonight. Your Lady wife is known to spend time watching the musicians practice. My best guess would be to look for her there.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed at the answer. 

“The musicians?”

“Yes, my Prince. She seems quite fond of them.” 

His stomach twisted at the realization there was something his wife was so obviously delighted by that he had no idea of and he quickly made his way towards the great hall, spotting, not his wife, but a group of musicians assembling their instruments. 

“My Prince.” The lead conductor bowed to him politely when he noticed his presence. “I am glad to see you, we were just discussing your Lady wife and we would appreciate if you would speak to her about her presence here as we prac-”

“You will allow her to watch.” Aemond interrupted the man, looking at him sternly, as if daring the man to defy him. “You will indulge her with your practice. You will answer any question she poses and if she deems it a want, you will let her play your damn instruments.”

After his warning, he began to watch his wife, smiling to himself as he noticed the look of delight in her gaze as she watched the musicians perform. 

It took weeks to build the courage, but one night as the band played and she watched with eagerness, he asked her to dance for the first time since their wedding. 

That night, he had never felt so nervous as he danced with her, but he felt closer to her than ever before. 

That night, she seemed to feel it too as she looked at him with a desire he had never seen from her before as they retreated to their chambers for the night. 

That night, he made love to her. He touched her so softly, reveling in her beautiful moans and cries of his name. He felt as though he was a God as she felt her touch on him, as he felt the sting of her nails in his back as he thrusted into her with a desperation so unknown to him. 

It was the first time they felt so connected to each other. 

As they lay with each other, their hearts slowing their rhythm from their peaks, he held her in his arms, not yet ready to lose the feel of her touch just yet. 

“Tell me about the music.” He asked softly. 

She laughed softly, the sound like heavenly bells to his ears. The knowledge that he had even noticed her infatuation with music was enough to have butterflies unleashed within her. 

“My mother used to play the harp. Apparently, when I was a babe, the sound of her harp was the only thing that could calm me down, the only thing that would stop my crying. She would always make up songs to sing me to sleep.” She explained wistfully and he listened to every word. 

“Sometimes I feel as though my mind gets too loud. There are too many thoughts that are entirely unhelpful and… I don’t know, it sounds silly, but I think music is the only thing that quiets it, that brings me back down to myself when those thoughts take over.”

“It’s not silly.” He told her earnestly. “I think it’s beautiful to admire something so passionately.” 

“I wish I could learn to play myself, but I don’t think I have the patience for it.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound holding nothing but disbelief. 

“My sweet wife, you are the most patient person I have ever met in my life. If you can conquer me, you can conquer anything.”

“Have I conquered you?” She asked, looking up at him with a playful challenge, to which he smiled. 

“You certainly have.”

She smiled and leaned in closer to his touch, finally feeling as though they were on the same wavelength. 

By the next morning, Aemond was gone before she woke. 

Her maids helped her get dressed for the morning and they couldn’t help but notice the lovesick smile that adorned her lips. 

“You seem quite happy this morning, my Lady.”

She blushed and bowed her head bashfully. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Prince, would it?” Her maid teased, the group of them laughing as their Lady swatted their hands playfully. 

“I have never seen Prince Aemond so smitten before.” One of the younger maids commented. “You seem to have him under a spell, my Lady. I don’t think I had ever seen him smile until you came around.”

“Oh yes, he was always so surly. I was terrified to even pass him in the halls.” They continued as if she were no longer there, not noticing the surprise on her face as they spoke of her husband. “He seems like a different person. He is nothing but a lovesick fool now.” 

She felt as though her heart would burst as she listened to their words. 

Only a few minutes later, as she was dressed, did her husband return. His smile faltered at the sight of her maids and he seemed to retreat into himself, his cool demeanor shifting into one of discomfort, his body rigid, his nod of acknowledgement stiff. 

Her maids giggled to themselves and bid her goodbye before leaving. 

Only then did Aemond relax once again, his expression now nothing but one of love as he approached her. 

“I have something for you.”

She raised a brow in question as he took a seat next to her. 

He then handed her a stack of papers. She didn’t recognize what they were at first, her eyes flitting over the markings over the page, before it suddenly dawned on her. 

It was sheet music. 

“You said you wished to learn.” 

Her lips parted, but no words came. She was stunned to silence, his gesture, so thoughtful, had her floored. 

“This is… I don’t know what to say.” She spoke quietly. She looked to her husband and felt so unprepared for the love she would feel for him, in disbelief that the man she had been terrified to marry could make her feel this way.

“What is it?” Aemond asked worriedly, watching as her expression became one of thoughtful contemplation, suddenly fearing he had overstepped in some way. 

“Why me?” 

The question caught him off guard and his frown deepened, his heart beginning to race as doubt crept through him.

“What do you mean?”

“You do not act this way with anyone else. The maids were practically terrified of you before. You never smile with anyone but me. I don’t understand what is so special about me to have a place in your heart.” 

The insecurities came spilling out before she could stop them, leaving her feeling more exposed than she intended and suddenly wishing the ground would swallow her whole. 

Aemond’s face shifted, his eye looking at her with a mix of disbelief and sadness. He leaned in close to her, his hand reaching out to cradle her jaw. 

“You cannot truly mean that.” He whispered, as if his words had physically hurt him. “Do you really not see how easily you have carved yourself into my heart?”

She didn’t have an answer and merely looked stunned by his words. 

He let out a long breath and hesitated, his teeth worrying his bottom lip for a moment before his hand reached out and slowly took his eyepatch off. 

She felt as though her breath was stolen from her as she saw the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

He watched her carefully and as he saw only awe in her gaze, did he feel as though he could melt into nothing. 

He smiled and took her hand, guiding her to the scarred side of his face, laying her palm against his skin. 

“I was ridiculed my entire life, looked at as if I were a monster because of what was taken from me the night I claimed Vhagar.” He told her, almost shuddering under her touch as her thumb grazed the edge of his scar. 

“You have never once looked at me as though I was less, or that my scar made me someone unlovable.” 

Her gaze met his and she was floored by the genuine reverence with which he looked at her. 

“That night, I was kicking myself for not returning your smile, but I…” He paused, letting out a small, bashful laugh. “I was too in awe of you to do anything but stare like a fool.” 

“You don’t understand what is so special about yourself?” He repeated, a tone of derision in his voice as if it disgusted him to even speak the words aloud. “Darling, you had me bewitched from the very first moment I saw you.”

She let out a laugh, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, his words wrapping around her like the warm embrace of a lover. 

He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers.

“I am truly sorry I made you feel as though there was any doubt. I’ll have to try harder to make you realize you are the most special being in this entire castle.”

Her laugh was cut off as he crashed his lips to hers, kissing her with the ferocity of a dragon in love. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Right Here, Right Now

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Matt had been working hard on a case for over a month now, meaning the two of you had barely seen each other in weeks. After he, Foggy, and Karen finally have their win in court, he invites you out to Josie's to celebrate with them. Though it soon becomes apparent to you that he has something in particular on his mind tonight.

Warnings/tags: 18+; smut, public fingering, and Matt being a little shit along with his filthy mouth also deserves a warning

a/n: Just a last minute smut fic I threw together as a little spicy treat for Valentine's Day for y'all. Hopefully you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @petrovafire39

Thumbnail caught between your teeth, you chewed it fiercely as you sat in the booth at the bar. Because ever since you'd come to Josie’s to meet up with Matt and your friends over an hour ago, he'd been doing nothing but intentionally working you up.

And he had been anything but subtle about it. 

Earlier today Matt, Foggy, and Karen had finally won their case in court, a case that you knew they'd been endlessly toiling away on for over a month. You'd barely just gotten back to your apartment after work when Matt had called and told you the good news, urging you to meet them down at Josie’s. Having been excited to celebrate with everyone–especially since you'd barely seen Matt in weeks–you'd hurried straight there. You hadn't even bothered to change out of your work clothes before you’d left because you’d been so eager to finally have a chance to see Matt again, which left you still wearing one of the dresses you occasionally wore to work on incredibly hot summer days like today. 

You knew Matt loved your dresses, he'd told you that plenty of times by now. And while you were very aware of the fact that the pair of you had barely spent time together since their firm had initially taken this case many weeks ago, you hadn't anticipated the reaction he'd be having to you tonight. 

At first you hadn't noticed much out of the ordinary when you’d arrived at the bar. Matt had wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in close to the side of him as he ordered your drink. Though you had noticed how he held onto you tighter tonight than he usually did whenever the pair of you were out together, as if he needed to have part of you constantly touching him this evening. Not long after you'd gotten your beer, Matt's hand had begun to dip lower and lower on your waist, the tips of his fingers teasingly grazing the top of your ass. You had almost choked on the sip of your drink you'd just taken when his fingers began toying with the waistband of your panties through the thin fabric of your dress. Struggling to remain focused on the conversation at the time, all you could think about was Matt's damn hands peeling them off of you later. Every slight snap of the material from his teasing fingers had your breath catching in your throat and your cheeks beginning to flush.

But if his wandering hands hadn't already been enough, he'd also been taking moments to lean over and whisper things into your ear whenever Karen and Foggy were talking. You'd slowly lost the ability to pay attention at all to what those two were saying as the things Matt's deep voice kept purring into your ear gradually became filthier and filthier.

At first the comments had been sweet; mainly Matt telling you that he'd missed you and how he was looking forward to finally having time to spend with you now that he wouldn't be working on that case anymore. But then he'd begun to tell you how good you smelled this evening. Which eventually led to him telling you how much he had missed you in his bed over the past few weeks and what he was looking forward to doing once the pair of you left Josie’s tonight–in explicit detail. 

That's when he began to tell you that he knew how aroused you were becoming; that he couldn't just smell the dampness forming between your legs, but that he could hear the slickness with every shift of your body beside him. It wasn't as if you could help it though because his voice alone always had an undeniable effect on you–which he damn well knew. And him catching the scent of your growing arousal only seemed to amplify the obscene things he kept whispering into your ear while he still wore that innocent smile on his face for Karen and Foggy. But there was one comment in particular that had been rolling around in your head over and over for the past hour now. You couldn't stop hearing it repeat in your mind in that same sultry growl in which he'd first said it in.

Before we even leave this bar tonight, sweetheart, I’m going to soak that dress and those panties more than they already are. I can promise you that.

You remembered the fresh bit of wet heat that formed between your thighs the moment those words had left his mouth, his hot breath dancing along your neck. You'd shuddered, becoming incredibly aware of every inch of your side he had pressed up against his. With the way he kept whispering in your ear all night, you figured that was his plan for the evening. To turn you on solely with his voice and the dirty things he was saying before leaving the bar tonight. But the moment everyone had sat down at the booth Karen had pointed out, you'd realized he might've had something else in mind.

Which is when you knew that you were in far more trouble tonight than you could have ever realized. 

For the past twenty minutes Matt's left hand kept touching you underneath the table, oscillating between one exhilarating touch after another. A firm squeeze to your knee, his palm just beneath the hem of your dress. His hand resting on your thigh, the warmth of it seeping through your dress and growing the heat already building inside of you. And, a few times, he'd actually slipped his hand up beneath the fabric itself, languidly sliding it deliciously slow until you felt a gentle graze of fingertips along the inside of your thigh, just below your already wet underwear.

You were without a doubt already a flustered mess in the booth. Yet Matt didn't seem remotely satisfied, his hand still relentlessly teasing you under the table while he continued on conversering with his friends like nothing more was occurring. He was drinking back his beer and actively participating in the conversation while occasionally flashing you knowing, devilish smiles. Meanwhile, you could still barely focus on the conversation long enough to add much to it. 

It was the sound of Foggy’s phone a little later alerting him to a text that finally caught your attention, tearing it away from the way Matt's index finger was currently drawing circles over your right knee. Both of your hands were fidgeting with your beer bottle above the table, your face feeling hot as you watched him pull the phone out of his pocket.

“It's Marci,” Foggy announced, still reading the text. “She's back from work and wondering when I'll be home.” He glanced up from his phone screen, a slight frown on his lips. “I should probably get going, I don't want to make her wait up for me.”

Beside him, Karen glanced down at her own phone on the table, unlocking the screen and checking the time. “Maybe I should head out too,” she said. “It is starting to get kind of late.”

A flood of relief instantly washed over you as you perked up across the table. If both of them were calling it a night, that meant you and Matt could leave, too. Which also meant you could head back to either of your apartments and do something about all the growing sexual tension and Matt's incessant teasing, because by now you were becoming desperate for some sort of relief. But just as you shifted in your seat, about to open your mouth and eagerly agree with the idea of leaving, Matt's hand tightened around your knee. Your brief hesitation gave him a chance to respond first.

“You both head on out,” he began, tone far too casual as he spoke. “I think we might actually stay a bit. It's been awhile since we've really gotten to spend time together with everything going on these past few weeks.”

“Just don't stay up too late tonight, kids,” Foggy joked, already sliding out of the seat across from you and Matt. “We've got a meeting bright and early tomorrow morning!”

Matt chuckled good-naturedly, his hand inching up under the hem of your dress as he did. You straightened in your seat at the touch, spine pressing against the back of the booth as you wondered why in the hell he wanted to stay.

“You don't have to worry about me, buddy,” he assured him. “I'll be ready for tomorrow morning.”

Karen slid out of the booth behind Foggy, one hand brushing some loose blonde hair out of her face as she sent you and Matt a warm smile. You returned the smile as best as you could, hoping neither of them had noticed how unusually quiet you'd been tonight. 

“I know how much we've been hogging Matt the past few weeks,” Karen told you, readjusting her purse strap as she rose to her feet beside the booth. “So I hope you two enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Thanks, I'm–I'm sure we will,” you replied, trying to fight back the quiver in your voice as Matt's thumb slid across the inside of your thigh. 

“Oh, we most certainly will,” he told her with a smile, his hand giving your thigh a slight squeeze.

Hips shifting along the booth's bench, you tried to ignore the growing ache between your legs, finding it hard to remain casual with how Matt was making you feel. You weren't sure what his reasoning was for not getting up and leaving right now with them, but you sure hoped you could convince him to get out of here fast once they'd left.

“It was good seeing you both again tonight,” you told the pair of them. “And congratulations again on winning that case.”

“We'll see you at the next big celebratory win!” Foggy said, shooting you a wave.

You sent them both a wave in return before they turned and headed towards the exit to Josie’s, the pair of them walking side by side. Matt's hand remained on your thigh as you watched them go, his other hand picking up his half-finished beer from the table. Your attention shifted to him beside you, watching as he drew the bottle up to his lips, taking a deep pull before he set the beer back down. Your gaze remained on his mouth, watching as the tip of his tongue slipped out and ran along his lips. The thought of that skilled tongue being put to use had your cunt pathetically clenching around nothing.

“You're so damn wet I can barely taste my own beer,” Matt said, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “All I have been able to taste for the past hour is you and your dripping cunt.”

Fighting a shudder threatening to roll down your spine, your own hands tightened around the neck of your beer bottle on the table. “That's your own doing, Matt,” you pointed out, sounding more breathless than you'd have liked. “You're the one who won't stop teasing me tonight.”

“And you're the one showing up in a dress,” he countered, his covered gaze finally landing on you. “You know I can't resist when you wear them.”

“I didn't feel like changing before I left,” you replied, heart pounding a little faster as you felt his hand begin to glide further up beneath your dress. “I was excited to see you and I hadn't thought–” you paused, eyelids fluttering momentarily when one of his fingers finally swiped ever so gently just over your soaked underwear.

“Hadn't thought what, sweetheart?” he asked cheekily. 

You could feel your pulse pounding in your own aching cunt by now, your body tense as it desperately begged for more stimulation than that light touch. Breath coming in a bit sharper, you tried to focus your thoughts to answer him.

“Hadn't thought you'd react like this,” you whispered. 

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, turning more towards you in the booth, his hand still lingering on the inside of your thigh, fingers dangerously close to where you wanted them. “Well it has been awhile since I've had the opportunity to properly take care of my girl because of that damn case. I suppose I just couldn't resist you tonight.”

“So then let's get out of here,” you urged. “My place or yours tonight, I don't care, Matt. Just stop teasing me because I can't take it any longer. I miss you.”

You heard the sharp intake of breath that came from him at the sound of your plea. Behind his dark lenses you saw the way his eyes had closed, his jaw tightening.

“Please, Matt,” you begged, hoping the distress in your voice would help convince him. “Let's just go.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, his nostrils flaring sharply as his eyes opened once more behind the red lenses. “I do love how you sound when you get like this,” he murmured. “But if you're that needy for a release already, why wait, sweetheart?”

Brows drawing together on your forehead, you eyed him in confusion. “What?” you asked.

The corner of his lip tugged up into a sinful smirk. “Why not let me get you off right here, right now? Right in this booth,” he suggested, tone darkening. 

Your eyes darted around the bar, the thought of Matt’s fingers on you right here raising goosebumps along your arms. While there were a handful of patrons scattered around Josie’s tonight, some were playing pool while others were at the bar, drinking down their drinks. There was no one even remotely near your booth. A nervous laugh slipped out of you as you focused back on Matt.

“You're not actually serious, are you?” you asked. “We're in the middle of a bar , Matt. And we aren't exactly here alone.”

He shrugged a single shoulder in response. “So?” he asked. “I can be discreet if you can be quiet.”

Lips parting in surprise, you sat there in stunned silence. The devilish smirk only grew on his lips as his right hand once again lifted his beer bottle from the table, bringing it slowly up to his mouth for another drink that he took so irritatingly calm and casual.

“Though it's entirely up to you, of course,” he continued after he'd swallowed, lowering the bottle back to the table. “You know I'd certainly never want to make you uncomfortable. So if you'd rather us wait until we've walked all the way back to my place–the closest option–then we most certainly can. Or,” he purred, his finger once again lightly gliding along your cunt over your wet underwear, your eyes nearly rolling back at the touch, “I can take care of you here. With my fingers. And then fuck you far more thoroughly back at my place after.” 

He shot you a charming smile that had you feeling weak already. He damn well knew what he had been doing to you all night, especially with those senses of his. Had this been his goal all along? To work you up so much that you'd actually want to do this? Because truthfully, it had worked. You were considering it.

“The choice is yours, sweetheart,” he told you. 

Once again your eyes darted around the bar, unable to believe that you were actually contemplating his offer. But this was Matt and you'd often found he had a way of making you comfortable and willing to try new things–like letting him get you off in the middle of a dive bar that the pair of you often frequented. But no one here was even remotely paying the pair of you any attention where you were sitting in the corner of the bar. If you kept quiet, no one would be able to see anything that was happening beneath the table. And did you really want to wait the ten minute walk back to Matt's apartment building? And then another few minutes on top of that while you both made it up to his apartment before getting any sort of release? 

No, no you really didn't. 

“Okay, you win,” you whispered.

Matt rested his right elbow up on the tabletop, his stubbled chin coming to land in his palm as he focused on you. That damn smile was still on his mouth.

“You're going to have to tell me what you want,” he replied. “I'm not a mind reader.”

You rolled your eyes at him and the way he was purposely drawing this out. He could be such a goddamn tease when he wanted to be.

“I want you to touch me,” you said. “Get me off here and then take me home after, Matthew. I can’t wait any longer.”

His head tilted to the side in his palm, his dark brows rising playfully up above his glasses. “You sure you can manage to keep quiet enough?” he asked.

With an irritated huff, you rolled your eyes at him again. “Yes, now can you stop toying with me and– fuck .”

A satisfied smile spread across his mouth as one of his fingers landed directly on your swollen clit over the fabric of your damp underwear. He'd only applied a faint bit of pressure with the pad of his finger, but already it had felt so damn good in comparison to the burning ache you'd been dealing with most of the night. 

“I told you we'd have to save that for when we got back to my place,” he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don't think we'd quite manage to get away unnoticed in the booth doing that .”

“You're such an asshole, Matthew,” you breathed out. 

He chuckled in response, his finger making a circle along the sensitive bud beneath it. “You sure now is the time for insults, sweetheart?” he asked. “Because I can stop.”

Your eyelids closed as you weakly shook your head, every part of you focused on the delicious pressure of his finger. “No,” you nearly whimpered. “Please don't stop, Matt.”

He hummed out a pleased noise in response, his finger continuing to circle your clit over the top of your underwear. Your breath was coming in sharp, short gasps as you fought to reopen your eyes and keep them open, remembering that you were both still in public and that you needed to keep your composure. Though keeping your expression neutral was difficult with Matt's smirking face directly in your line of sight. He looked so smug as his finger continued to gently rub against you. 

But he wasn’t doing nearly enough to ease the growing desire between your legs and get you off. And it was becoming obvious that it was purposeful.

“Come on, Matt,” you whined. “Haven't you teased me enough tonight? Can you please stop already?”

“Alright, sweetheart,” he replied. “If you insist.”

His fingers hooked around your underwear, pulling it to the side and out of his way. Two of his thick digits soon slid between your soaked folds, running back and forth along the length of them as he gathered your slick. A rumbling growl vibrated in Matt's chest as the expression on his face abruptly darkened, that teasing smirk quickly vanishing.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he snarled between gritted teeth.

Your mouth went dry instantly at the sound of the Devil’s voice. You hadn’t expected that.

“Need me that bad, do you?” he growled low. “Already soaked your panties because you're so eager? And all it took was my voice?” 

The tip of one of his fingers lightly brushed over your clit in a series of quick, gentle strokes. Your body gave a jolt in the booth, your breath hitching in your throat at the feather-light assault. 

“Maybe I should make you soak my fingers along with that dress, hmm?” he purred. “Right here in this bar. You'd like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?”

Hands releasing the bottle of your beer, they immediately clamped down onto the edge of the table. You had a feeling you were going to need to hold on to something if the Devil was about to play with you in the middle of Josie’s.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, spreading your legs a little wider beneath the table in open invitation. “Please.”

The corner of Matt’s lip pulled up into something feral as you felt his finger leave the little swollen nub, instead lining it up with your dripping entrance. You’d barely had a chance to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come before he plunged that lone digit straight inside of you. Teeth clamping down on your bottom lip, you fought back the noise that nearly flew out of your mouth, managing to trap it in the back of your throat instead as your hands gripped the table.

“That's right, keep quiet, sweetheart,” the Devil rumbled out. “Don't want anyone here to know that I'm touching you, do we?”

“No,” you breathed out, shaking your head.

His finger began to pump into your cunt painfully slow as he slid even closer next to you in the booth. His thigh pressed up right against yours and a whine managed to faintly slip out of your lips. The moment you felt his lips brush along the shell of your ear though, a lightheadedness washed over you.

“You're doing so good being quiet for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear with each word as his finger continued its unhurried rhythm. “Should we see just how quiet you can be?”

Your eyes clamped shut, your body feeling like it was burning up beside Matt's. A shuddering exhale left you as your hands clung tighter to the table as if that would somehow help you keep from making a single sound. 

Before you knew what was happening, Matt plunged a second finger inside of you. A surprised gasp flew out of your mouth, your eyes flying back open. His fingers increased their pace, the soft, obscene squelch of your wet cunt meeting your ears over the faint chatter of the bar and the quiet classic rock that was playing. Matt moaned quietly beside your ear, his hot breath cascading down the side of your neck only making you feel even more dizzy. 

“Good girl,” the Devil praised beside your ear. “Keeping so quiet for me while I fuck you with my fingers.”

A moan once again started in the back of your throat at his words, one you were desperately trying to hold back. But it was becoming difficult to stay aware of your surroundings and the need to not make a noise when his fingers started to curl inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that had white beginning to dance at the corner of your eyes. Matt's own ragged breaths in your ear wasn't helping your situation. You could tell he was becoming increasingly worked up beside you, too, at the sound of each of his own sharp growls.

“Should I let you cum already?” he whispered into your ear. “Would you like that?”

You nodded frantically in response, eager for the promise of a release from all the tension that had been building up inside of you tonight. 

“Yes,” you begged. “Please, Matt, please.”

Another rumbling growl from him met your ears and your cunt clenched around Matt's fingers. He groaned low beside you in response, the sound deep within his throat. 

“I love it when you beg, sweetheart,” he whispered. “And you have been so good for me tonight. So I want you to cum. I want you to drench my fingers here in the middle of Josie’s. But,” he continued, the Devil’s tone turning to that of a warning as you felt the pad of his thumb land on your clit, “you better not make a fucking sound when you do.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded obediently as you attempted to mutter out an affirmative response. Though it was hard to form much of a thought with the way his two fingers kept diligently fucking you now combined with the tantalizing movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit. His voice in your ear and the feel of his hard body against the side of yours was already pushing you over the edge now. 

Your climax was within reach, you could feel that familiar pressure building to its peak deep inside of you, begging to be let loose with each thrust of his fingers and brush of his thumb pad. Your hands had grown clammy as you fought to hold onto the table, your back arching in the booth as you struggled to keep your eyes from rolling back in ecstasy. 

But the closer and closer you inched to your release, the harder and harder it was becoming to keep silent. Whimpers and whines were falling out between your quivering lips, the sounds mingling with each wet thrust of his fingers inside of you and his own labored breaths in your ear.

“I know, I know,” he cooed. “You're so close, sweetheart. I can feel it. Just let go for me.”

Your body was beginning to shake under the strain of remaining composed in the booth. The pleased, encouraging noises coming from Matt weren't helping your efforts either, especially as that moan inside of you began to build just as your climax unexpectedly slammed into you like a brick wall. 

You'd barely opened your mouth before Matt lunged at you, his own lips practically crashing onto you and smothering yours. The moan you'd been about to loose throughout the bar was quickly muffled by his own mouth as he swallowed the sound of it down his throat. With his mouth feverishly attacking yours in a mix of tongue and teeth, his hand continued to work you through your climax beneath the table, dragging it out and drawing you through it. One of your hands released the death grip you had on the table, landing on Matt's thick thigh just beside yours. You dug your nails into his muscle through his dress pants as your body trembled along the bench, a low moan once more barreling out of you and straight into his mouth one last time as you came hard on his fingers. 

Gradually Matt's fingers slowed to a stop, your body sinking back into the booth as if it suddenly weighed far too much. His mouth broke away from yours, his own chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, still trying to recover from the body-shaking orgasm he’d just given you in public. His face was flushed, his cheeks slightly reddened. It almost looked like there was even the slightest sheen of sweat above his brow.

“That was not exactly quiet, sweetheart,” he lightly chastised, carefully withdrawing his fingers from inside of you. “You’re lucky I noticed before everyone else here did.”

You shot him a blissful, tired smile, your head resting against the back of the booth as you gazed back at him. “Thank God for your senses, then,” you joked, still a little breathless.

The corner of Matt’s mouth quirked up into a smirk as he continued to focus on you, the lenses of his glasses glinting under the red neon sign on the wall beside your booth. His left hand appeared from underneath the table moments later, coated and obviously glistening with your slick under the red light. He raised both fingers up to his lips before slipping them inside his mouth, sucking your arousal off of them with a satisfied moan that sounded low in the back of his throat. A shiver ran up your spine as you watched him slowly slide his two fingers back out from between his plush lips, his focus never leaving you.

“I don’t think it’s God that you should be thanking right now,” he murmured, the Devil once more grinning back at you. 

Your cunt immediately twitched back awake at that voice, bottom lip rolling between your teeth. Matt's tongue slid out between his lips, sensually running along the length of them before an impatient growl rumbled out of him.

“Now what’s going to happen next,” the Devil began, his voice raising the hair on the back of your neck, “is you’re going to get out of this booth like nothing happened,” he told you. “And then I’m going to take you and that deliciously drenched pussy back to my place where I’m going to have my fill of you. And this time, sweetheart?” he continued, the red of the neon light washing over his face as he leaned in towards you. “I want to hear every goddamn sound you make. You got that?”

Swallowing hard, you immediately sobered up in the booth beside him. You nodded in response, already eagerly beginning to slide out of the booth after him, incredibly aware of how pathetically wet you still were beneath your dress. But you weren’t about to deny the Devil what he wanted when you loved playing with him as much as you did.

[dragonsholygrail]

Hello!

God, I love the idea of werebirds/the bird colony!

What if the dance instructor did end up making a nest with all the nesting material they gave them (however/where ever they’d do that)? What would the colony think?

What if the colony got together and used their dance knowledge to create some sort of mating dance for the instructor? Teasing the instructor with their ruffling, colorful feathers in a mesmerizing display.

I need more of them lmao

Hope you have a great day/night💜💜

When word got around the all male Bird Hybrid Colony that you had made a nest in your office out of the materials they had gotten for you, loud fierce chirps rang throughout the studio. The bird hybrids wings flapping erratically at your acceptance of them.

Your building a nest they provided you in such a private place had to mean that you were finally agreeing to their mating offers. Their feathers ruffled and they all preened at the thought of claiming you as a mate should by fucking into you with abandon and filling you to the brim with cum till you’re growing their eggs inside of you.

But they knew they had to do something special, something really over the top in order to make sure you were ready for them to breed you till you were so fucked out you couldn’t see straight. What better way to do that than a mating dance?

They’d all show you just how much they had learned under your seductive and arousing teachings. Together they created the most powerful mating dance for you that anyone had ever seen.

It was an offer that was impossible to refuse and their minds couldn’t help but imagine the way your thick thighs would spread for them. Your pussy glistening with arousal. They can practically taste how good your fat cunt will be when they finally get their wings and hands on you.

Their eagerness to please you both in dance and by filling all your holes till you can’t take it anymore is clear in their burning gaze. The next week at dance class is filled with a crackling tension. Their feathers successfully hiding their hard cocks, tips red, angry, and dribbling pre cum with their mate so close.

When you heard your class had a surprise for you, you were immediately intrigued. The fact that they’re wanted to dance for you already turning you on as your panties flood with arousal. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the bird hybrids as your scent perfumed the air.

It only spurned them on and made them more desperate to dance for you and sink themselves inside your wet heat. Their feathers ruffled out, showcasing them all so that you can see just how lovely of mates they’ll be as the dance starts.

The colony begins dancing as one large machine, their colorful feathers spinning and mixing to create a truly brilliant show. You’re in awe as you watch it, a mix of moves you’ve taught them combined of more traditional mating dances. Their biology combining with what they’ve learned. Almost like you’re a part of them now. You squirm in place, thighs rubbing together, needy for some type of friction.

By now as you watch them you’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties, your skin unbearably hot with need. It’s not even the dance itself that’s getting you so hot and bothered but the fact that even with their attraction to you they still pay attention to the actual work. Their passion for you mingling with their passion for dance. And it has you wanting to take them all here and now.

As if being able to read your thoughts, the bird hybrids descend onto you. A part of the routine as they pull you into the middle of them. Hands touching every part of your body. You gasp as claws tease at your skin while others rip your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked before them.

A moment later they bring you down in the nest you lovingly made for them that they got from your office. Beautiful cocks of all shapes and sizes nudge at the openings of each of your holes. With your mind hazy with lust you let yourself give in, opening wide for them to push inside you. You moan lowly at the delicious stretch of your mouth, hands, cunt, and bottom. Every inch of you filled with them.

The music from their dance stops at one point but your bird hybrids are nowhere near done with you. Furiously fucking into you as if they’ve gone completely savage. Only knowing for certain that you need their cum.

Your moans and their chirps of pleasure echo against the walls as they slam themselves inside of you. Your body on fire as every inch of you is being stimulated with more pleasure than you’ve ever known.

They pass you around from hybrid to hybrid and you quickly lose track. Their forms becoming a blur of color and ecstasy as they fill with you cock after cock, the colony seemingly endless. You’re feeling so much of everything all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the past way possible as you try and meet all of their thrusts at once.

You cum countless times, your body shaking with the sensations overtaking you. You swear you black out for a moment only to wake up coming again, a strangled cry falling past your lips as a fresh wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your bird hybrids eventually get their fill of you, knowing their plump human needs a break. They slip out of you only once you’re fucked full of cum and limp on the floor, too tired to move let alone lift a limb.

So they take care of your every need, cleaning you up, whispering words of love and affection for you their mate, and cuddling up to you after. You nuzzle into their furry bodies, finding so much comfort in their embrace that you fall asleep in a matter of seconds.

[naffeclipse]

Packmates

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

This is such a delightful little fic requested by @counterbalance involving Orca!Eclipse having a little heart-to-heart with Michael and Vanessa with, of course, Y/N overseeing it! It's very cathartic and sweet to see all of these characters talk to each other after everything that has happened. I hope you enjoy!

———

Spring in the Arctic is frigid. No flowers bloom along the frozen land. Sea smoke sends pale wisps into the rosy pink dawn light. Jutting mounts of hills and ice jag the landscape as you slip closer and closer to the edge of the snow-dotted ocean. 

You tuck your scarlet wool scarf tighter around your throat. Goggles and a hood protect your face and eyes from the wicked air so cold, it brandishes itself like a knife against exposed skin. 

The darkness of a blistering cold night in the polar region lifts away, and the sweet, soft light of a new, short day begins. Slowly, the days will get longer and longer, until there is only the hint of dusk before it brightens all over again. You marvel at the sunlight on the glittering frozen ground. The way it refracts upon the tips of waves as the ocean churns slowly in its below-zero temperature state. 

All of this is no matter to an orca siren. Eclipse has never been cold. Only alone.

That will change.

You trek across the plain with company. It’s taken you a few days to prepare Eclipse to meet your packmates as he refers to them properly. He’s not wrong. Michael and Vanessa form your little tightly knit group, forged by comradery from first being stuck in such a stark landscape in a tiny base, to then enduring the mysterious uncertainty of sirens and the lingering presence of those who hunted them. 

They tried to protect you and you protected them. On your left, Michael’s head is on a swivel. He strains his neck as he peers down into the deep and dark indigo waters as if he might spy Eclipse before he’s ready to emerge. His gloved hands clench, held in front of him as if a harpoon might materialize and drop into his waiting palms. The fur of his dark gray parka is red, pushed by the slight breeze as if he were an Arctic fox roaming, briskly attempting to keep away from a much larger threat.

Vanessa walks so close to you on your other side that her shoulder repeatedly brushes against your own with the thick scratch of durable fabric from your Arctic gear echoing. Her face repeatedly turns to you. A black aviator hat protects her head from the fierce cold, the white fur along the flops of her head attire serving to keep her safe and warm. She anxiously moves her arms. You wonder if she intends to hug you or drag you back to base—either way, she seems to want to grab onto you tightly, as if you might fall through the thick ice now. 

They have their reasons to fear, but it’s alright now. Eclipse isn’t going to hurt anyone.

Seeing is believing, it seems, as you lead them towards the icy coast. The water reveals a deeper teal hue to its soft waves and lapping against the edge of the sea as the sun glares across the horizon. You squint against the brightness. Holding up a hand to help shield your gaze, you search the salty edge of the ocean.

Eclipse said he would meet them. He said he wants to know your packmates better.

“Stay here,” you say softly.

Michael’s shoulders become rigid. His eyes, verdant and almost wild, like a creature about to snap with its fangs, follow you in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You turn back, smiling despite how well your Arctic gear covers you up. 

“I am. It’s okay, Michael.” In a firmer tone, you remind, “You said you would give him a chance.”

Inhaling deeply, he dips his chin once. “I did. But he’s still a siren.”

“And you’re a human who had a harpoon.” You face him, no longer shrinking in his presence. There are no more secrets, no more reasons to protect each other from the truth. You love Eclipse. That should be enough for Michael but it’s going to take a little more time.

But he’ll see.

“We don’t have them now,” Vanessa says. She crosses her arms in what might have been a pout but her gloved hands grip herself anxiously. “It—He can still sing.”

“He won’t. He promised me he wouldn’t.” You have to ask much of them, and winter isn’t enough time for change, but it’ll have to do. “Trust me.”

They can now. Michael and Vanessa glance at each other, reassuring and perhaps, reinspired by the other. 

You nod gratefully and turn back to the water. You kneel at its edge, searching for a tell-tale sign of a sharp dorsal fin or burning red flukes. He shouldn’t be bold—at least more than is excessive for him. You took great care to explain to him how wary Michael and Vanessa might be and that he needs to be on his best behavior. He promised but the way he held you close in an embrace left a grain of doubt in your mind.

In the distant dark teal of the Arctic Ocean, you spy the beautiful, red-tipped dorsal fin of an orca siren. Eclipse. He swims slowly, approaching in the way a shark might curiously regard fresh bait while it’s not currently hungry. You wait. In the corner of your vision, Michael and Vanessa tense. You remain, hands on your legs, inhaling the frost-bitten scent of the wind before the dorsal fin dips below.

Right before you, where ice meets water, Eclipse emerges dripping wet, maw wide open in a grin. His eyes burn through the chilled landscape. One yellow and one red eye greet you with a radiant wonder. His expression softens. Your heart warms as he reaches for you, black-tipped claws dripping wet.

“Happy day, birdie,” he singsongs in a low rumble of harmonics. 

His hands brush your gloved palms, and you hear a strange rush of steps behind you. Eclipse’s eyes narrow. He latches onto your wrists just as arms encircle you from behind, one over your shoulder, and another around your waist, and a breathless sound of panic touches the back of your hood. You look down to find the off-white garb of Vanessa’s Arctic gear clinging to you, her gloves twisting deeply into your coat.

“Vanessa,” Michael says, his tone unreadable. He steps closer just as Eclipse growls.

“It’s okay,” you pipe up over everyone. “We’re fine, everyone’s fine.”

Tensions soar as you slowly turn your head back to find Vanessa wide-eyed and breathless. Her gaze is locked onto Eclipse. A rumble on the threat of a snarl vibrates through Eclipse’s chest. Vanessa holds you tighter.

“Eclipse, will you let go of me?” You level him with a pointed stare. “I want to introduce you to my packmates.”

Eclipse’s teeth flash. His array of head frills, flaring in dark oranges and deep reds, cut through the blues and whites of the Arctic in his agitation. 

“Eclipse,” you say softly, “Let me go. Just for a moment.”

His gaze drops back to you. You are firm, and unyielding as he lowers his shoulders. A softness returns to his feature. Though he appears pained to release your wrists, his claws slip away. 

Vanessa’s death grip upon you loosens in the slightest.

“Vanessa, this is Eclipse.” You pat her arms once. “He’s not taking me anyway. You can stop grabbing me now.”

She drags in a ragged breath. She slowly blinks, her green eyes returning to a more sensible state as she at last withdraws her arms from around you. You pat her arm again. Yet, she sits close beside you, trembling with anticipation. 

Gently, you gesture towards her, “Eclipse, this is my packmate, Vanessa.”

He tilts his head. Hiding his teeth, he smiles. “Hello.”

A stare follows from Vanessa, caught somewhere before wariness and the strangeness of an orca siren speaking to her. Was she expecting a monstrous grable to leave his lips or perhaps a wicked song? 

“Hi.” she finally decides. She glances at you in confusion for a moment. 

Oh, right. Packmate. You’ll explain that later.

“Eclipse,” you then hold your hand out beyond Vanessa to Michael. He still stands on his feet, unwilling or unable to join you guys on the ice that the orca siren leans his arms against. “This is Michael.”

Eclipse’s eyes sharpen as if the tip of an icicle. He lifts his hand. Michael tenses, his fists balling into fists.

“You are the child of the human who took away my pod, my family,” his deep voice is abysmal with the accusations. “I thought you would be worse.”

Michael turns hard as stone. Tension laces his jaw as he clenches tightly. Your heart skips a beat, glancing sharply between the two.

Eclipse snarls. “Your father killed my mother.”

“Sirens are dangerous,” Michael retorts, his shoulders braced for an impact that you refuse to see.

“Eclipse, you said you would be good to my pack,” you say sharply. You reach out and touch the back of Eclipse’s slick, sheeny hand.

He pauses, his eyes flashing to you. His claws quickly curl around your wrist. 

“I am,” he says, but he lowers his voice. 

Vanessa tenses, her hand reaching to hook around the crook of your arm. Desperation fills you to the brim.

“Please, there’s been enough fighting and hatred.” You look between all three of them. “You all have suffered, haven’t you?”

You steely hold Michael’s gaze. His expression morphs between molten rage and seething hatred before melting into something less bitter. You turn on Eclipse. His expression is sharp, edged with rime and fangs. You squeeze his hand. He glances down at your small gloved fingers in his palm. Slowly, he breathes out a huff of misty air. When you turn to Vanessa, her head is already bowed. Her grip upon your arm is no longer a means to keep you close, but to anchor herself.

“My sister,” Michael says, then stops. He struggles for a moment before looking at Eclipse—truly looking at Eclipse for the first time. “My sister is gone because of my father.”

The beginnings of a snarl pulling over his teeth stop. Eclipse’s grip around your hand becomes gentle. A low sound of sympathy escapes him in a warble.

“Afton let my mother be taken by a siren.” Vanessa’s voice is so small, you almost don’t catch it. “He sacrificed her for the sake of his studies.”

Her fingers dig into your coat. You wish you had another hand so you might comfort her. 

Eclipse looks at your other packmate, much more gentle as he leans closer as if to console her. Then, for a moment, he’s pierced with a strange expression. He leans away. His hand slips out of yours as he clenches his hands. His claws rake over the ice.

“Did the siren take your mother as a mate?”

Vanessa’s head lifts. Her mouth contorts as if her very muscles are paralyzed before she says gravelly, “I think so.”

Eclipse’s gaze falls over you. A memory of a time of being stolen away, held underwater, and forced to swim leaves you with a chill. Eclipse, however, slowly inches his hand back to you, open and waiting, and you accept it again. His shiny black and white markings are still sea salt-slick. He whistles a soft sound.

“It is wicked to force your will upon another,” his voice is low, repentant. 

Michael and Vanessa share equal expressions of scrutiny and wonder. Perhaps you merely imagine the first shine of acceptance in their eyes, but it’s a start.

Visibly, they relax. Vanessa still holds to your elbow but her fingers are no longer hooking around you in the hope of keeping you from being reeled out. Gradually, Michael lowers himself onto one knee. He rests his arm on his leg and loses the tautness in his body. 

You hold tight to Eclipse’s fingers. You wish you could close the distance. It’s been a few days since you’ve returned to the Arctic and spent time with Eclipse, but you still yearn for more of him. It was a long and cold winter without your siren. 

Perhaps humans and sirens don’t have to stay enemies. Perhaps the past can die with the generation who couldn’t stop fighting. Maybe you all can be better, and happier.

“Eclipse, will you tell Vanessa what you told me before?” you nudge. You think it will sound better coming from a siren than from you. 

Straightening, Vanessa glances quizzically at you, then Eclipse as a few water droplets fall from his frills.

“Your mother may be alive.” He turns towards the sea without releasing your hand. “She may be out there. I can help find her if that is something you wish.”

A ripple of shock crosses your friend’s expression. Of course, you and Michael promised to help search for her mother now that she understood what may have become of her. This is one of your motivations for returning to the Arctic. Vanessa is almost speechless. You have never seen her emotional before, but you wonder if she may weep. Is she happy or angry that a siren would offer such a thing to her? Knowing what happened to her mother?

“You know where she is?” she asks.

“No,” Eclipse corrects promptly, “but I can aid in your search. I know these waters. I have swam them all my life. If she is here, I can locate her.”

She glances at you, her eyes shining. You smile reassuringly. Slowly, she turns to Michael. His expression is firm and difficult to read, but he gives a slight nod. 

This might not end up how you wish it would, but it’s something. It’s hope—a possible answer after never having her mother all of her life. You wonder what kind of tail her mother could possess, and shiver as you glance down to your legs covered in thick Arctic gear.

“I—Yes,” Vanessa says at last. She faces Eclipse. “I would owe you everything if you helped me find her.”

A wide grin splits the crescent marking of his face. Just below the water and beyond the edge of ice you sit upon, his tail snaps to one side.

“No need. I want nothing more than what I have.” He squeezes your hands. His claws carefully brush over the fabric of your gloves as your heart swells with pride. 

You face him. Gently tugging yourself free of Vanessa’s grip, her hold loosens and she lets you go, her hand hanging in the air while you close the distance between you and Eclipse. His arms open gladly. You enter his embrace. A spark of shyness flies through you, never having an audience before to witness the affection between you and the orca siren.

Eclipse makes you forget all else as he hums soothingly. He nuzzles softly along your hood, pushing your goggles up to touch the heat of your skin. You close your eyes. He squanders not the opportunity to press a slick kiss to one eyelid, then the other. You breathe softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him.

“I thought you would know there is no need to thank me,” he rumbles with mirth, “but I still enjoy it.”

You pull back and touch his cheek. He leans into it before you remember who is present. You turn back to Michael and Vanessa and bashfully ask where they should start looking first.

[morganxwritess]

Your new Carlos fic!! I’m obsessed💕 If you ever did a part 2 for it there would be no complaints lol. Will definitely be checking your other works out! Keep up the good work and thank you as well.

⋆｡°✩ 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭.

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: once again, you can't resist capturing carlos's beauty, leading to some spicy photos you never would have taken if you had known your brother would stumble across them.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, cute fluffy smut, p in v sex, voyeurism, camera in the bedroom, oral sex (female receiving), essentially porn with plot

note: pt. 2 of picture perfect, and might i say i think it’s better than the original

word count: 3.3k

This Saturday was just another pulse-pounding race weekend, but with a touch of mischief that made it unforgettable. You woke up in Carlos's bed, the soft morning light spilling through the curtains and the lingering scent of his cologne mingling with the sheets. As you gently slipped out of his embrace, your heart fluttered with the thrill of the secret rendezvous. You crept back to your hotel room, the excitement of the morning still buzzing through your veins as you prepped for the day's work.

The circuit was alive with a crackling energy. Fans' cheers, engines roaring, and the palpable anticipation of the races electrified the air. You dove into your work, your camera capturing the raw intensity of Charles’s steely gaze and Carlos’s fierce determination. Each click of the shutter told a tale of competition and camaraderie. Between P3 and Qualifying, you navigated the paddock like a pro, snapping photos that showcased both the heat of the competition and the warmth of the drivers' friendships.

As the sun set, painting the sky in a mesmerizing blend of orange and pink, you headed back to your hotel room. After a quiet dinner, you felt the day's adrenaline begin to wane, replaced by eager anticipation for the evening's escapades.

You had wanted to go to Carlos’s room now, but you knew to wait for either his text to come over or Charles’s text letting you know he was going to bed. While you were really starting to fall for Carlos you didn’t want your relationship with him to affect your work or your relationship with your brother.

While you waited for the green light to go see him, you slipped into the matching red lace set that always made Carlos's eyes light up, layering a fluffy white hotel robe over it for that extra touch of mystery. With at least an hour to kill, you dove into editing the day's photos.

As you scanned through the shots uploading onto your computer, you couldn’t help but smile. The way the light danced off the red cars was simply breathtaking, and you knew the team would be just as impressed. But there was one photo that stood out among the rest: Carlos, fresh off setting pole in Qualifying, captured in a moment of pure intensity.

He was beside his race engineer, pouring over stats and data, with the top half of his race suit draped around his waist, revealing his fireproofs beneath. His powerful arms were crossed over his chest, sweat gleaming on his face and through his thick black hair. And then there was that secretive wink he shot towards the camera—an undeniable hint of the personal connection you shared.

Even though this shot was by far your favorite of the day, you knew you’d have to keep it under wraps. Sharing it with the team would be like accidentally sharing a love letter, and you weren’t quite ready for that plot twist just yet.

As you got lost in your photo edits, a sudden, assertive knock jolted you from your focus. Curious about who might be seeking you out at this late hour, you tiptoed over to the door with the grace of a cat on a mission. Peeking through the peephole, you squinted to make sure you knew exactly who was on the other side.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a smirk when you saw Carlos making a goofy face at the peephole, clearly hoping to make you laugh. With a chuckle, you undid the safety lock and swung open the door, letting him in but feeling a bit puzzled.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him in your room—far from it! It was just that it was usually simpler for you to head to his place, given his busier schedule during race weekends. Plus, his room was generally a lot nicer than yours. So, seeing him here now, looking like he was up to something, added a touch of delightful confusion to the evening.

As soon as you clicked the door shut behind you, Carlos didn't waste a second. He leaned in and delivered the sweetest, most tender kiss you’d ever felt, like a warm promise that everything was going to be just fine.

“How are you this evening, mi amor?” he whispered, his voice a soft caress.

Your heart skipped a beat at the endearing nickname he reserved just for you. You grinned and rose on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders like a warm, affectionate embrace.

“So much better now that I’m with you,” you murmured. “I thought you were going to text me when you wanted me to come over.”

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I got impatient and decided I couldn’t wait to see you any longer.”

Before you could even respond, his gaze darted to the desk in the corner where your camera and computer were set up. Noticing his own face on the screen, he grinned and made a beeline for it.

“Is that me?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

You darted in front of him, trying to shield the screen. “No, Carlos! I’m still editing these. They need a lot of work.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on his lips. “My face doesn’t need any editing, mi amor. Let me see your masterpiece.”

Despite being very protective of your work, you let Carlos by. You knew that if you really didn’t want him to see your photos he would respect that, but you also knew that if you’d let anyone look through your unfiltered shots, it was definitely him.

Carlos leaned closer, his eyes widening as he took in the photo on your screen. You could practically see the sparkle of admiration in his gaze.

“This is great, princessa!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine awe. “You really capture my essence. I wish I could take photos like this.”

You grinned mischievously, giving him a playful nudge. “Well, if your ‘essence’ is how badly you want to fuck me, then yeah, I’d say I nailed it.”

Carlos laughed heartily at your remark and zoomed in on his face, examining the playful wink he’d given the camera. “I was actually thinking about what I’d do to you later,” he confessed, his grin widening. “Come to think of it, I’m always thinking about what I’m going to do to you later.”

You couldn't help but giggle, giving him a playful shove. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Pole Position, you've got my full attention now. So, what’s the plan?”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer with a teasing glint in his eyes. “The plan, mi amor, involves a lot less editing and a lot more kissing.”

Carlos's arm around your waist felt warm and secure, pulling you in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief and anticipation, and you could feel the electricity in the air between you.

“You think you can just waltz in here and distract me from my work with a few sweet words?” you teased, your voice playful.

“Absolutely,” he said, his tone confident. “And I’m pretty sure I’m succeeding.”

With that, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more intensity. His lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and passion, making your heart race. You melted into the kiss, forgetting all about the photos and the long day you’d had. His hands found the edge of your robe, slipping inside to feel the lace beneath.

“Oh, mi amor,” Carlos groaned, his eyes devouring the sight of the red lace that hugged your curves, “Who takes photos of you when you look this good?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him a teasing smile. “No one ever takes photos of me. It’s the curse of being the photographer.”

Carlos's expression turned mischievous as he pulled you closer. “Well, that’s a tragedy we need to fix immediately.”

Before you could react, he snatched up your camera and started snapping playful photos of you in your lacy ensemble. “Strike a pose, princessa!” he commanded with a wink.

You laughed, throwing in exaggerated poses and goofy faces, fully embracing the moment. “You know, you’re not half bad at this!” you teased, twirling around.

Carlos grinned, lowering the camera to look at you with a gleam in his eye. “Let’s just say I’m inspired by my subject.”

He set the camera aside on the night stand and pulled you into his arms, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Now, let’s see if I can inspire you.”

As Carlos's arms wrapped around you, his lips found yours in a deep, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. The intensity of his embrace and the warmth of his body against yours made everything else fade away.

He gently guided you toward the bed, his hands tracing the curves that the red lace accentuated so perfectly. His touch was both tender and electrifying, sending waves of anticipation through you.

“You know,” he murmured between kisses, “I think that might’ve been my favorite photoshoot yet.”

You giggled, your hands exploring the firm muscles of his back. “You always know how to make things interesting.”

With a playful growl, Carlos gently pushed you onto the bed, following you down and hovering over you with a look of pure adoration. “I aim to please, mi amor.”

As Carlos began to kiss down your neck, he moved his hand between your legs touching your most intimate spot over your red lace underwear. Your head falls back as a loud moan escapes you. 

As Carlos began to kiss down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire, his hand slid between your legs, his touch teasing and tantalizing over the red lace. A shiver of pleasure ran through you as he found your most intimate spot, his fingers moving with expert precision.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a loud moan escaping your lips as waves of sensation crashed over you. “Carlos,” you gasped, your voice a mix of surprise and delight.

He grinned against your skin, his breath hot and enticing. “I love hearing you like this, mi amor,” he murmured, his fingers continuing their mesmerizing dance.

You squirmed beneath him, the lace adding a delicious friction that heightened every touch. “You’re driving me crazy,” you managed to say between moans, your body arching into his.

“That’s the idea,” he chuckled, his voice low and husky with desire. His kisses trailed lower, matching the rhythm of his hand, each touch sending you closer to the edge.

The intensity of his touch and the passion in his eyes made everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you lost in a moment of pure, unfiltered bliss.

As he kissed lower, his lips ghosting over your hip bone, an idea struck him that made him moan quietly into your skin. 

“Grab your camera,” he said breathily, his mouth leaving hot marks on your hips and lower stomach.

At first, you thought you misheard him, so you didn’t move, not until his fingers paused their tantalizing motions, making you groan in protest. He repeated, “Grab your camera.”

“My camera?” you asked, eyes wide as your chest rose and fell with anticipation.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice a mix of urgency and desire. “I want you to capture my essence again.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking he was joking. “Your essence still being how badly you want to fuck me?”

He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye as he bit down gently on your skin, drawing a moan from you. “Nothing will capture my essence better than a picture of me eating your pussy.”

His boldness sent a thrill through you, and with a mix of excitement and curiosity, you reached for your camera. As you positioned yourself to snap the photo, Carlos resumed his ministrations, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony. The click of the camera captured not just his essence, but the raw, passionate connection between you two. It was an intimate moment frozen in time, a testament to the electric chemistry that sparked between you.

With your camera in hand, you adjusted the focus, your breath hitching as Carlos continued his sensual exploration, pulling your panties off giving him easy access. The sight of him between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of hunger and adoration, was almost too much to bear.

He paused just long enough to give you a wicked grin. "Ready, princessa?"

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you aimed the lens. Carlos's lips found your most intimate spot, and the sensation was so intense that you nearly dropped the camera. But you steadied yourself, snapping photo after photo as he worked his magic.

The combination of his skilled mouth and the act of capturing this intimate moment was an intoxicating mix. Each click of the shutter seemed to amplify your pleasure, your moans and gasps echoing in the room. Carlos's hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he continued to drive you wild.

"You're doing amazing," he murmured against your skin, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through you.

You couldn't respond, too lost in the sensation and the sight of him through the camera lens. The photos were raw and unfiltered, capturing the pure, unbridled passion of the moment.

As you neared the edge, you dropped the camera onto the bed, your hands flying to Carlos's hair, tugging him closer. "Carlos, please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "I’ve got you, mi amor," he whispered before diving back in with renewed intensity.

The combination of his skilled tongue and the memories of the photos you'd taken sent you over the edge, your body trembling with release. Carlos didn't stop, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were utterly spent.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening and his eyes filled with satisfaction. You couldn't resist snapping a photo of his face, covered in your wetness and sporting that sweet, smug smirk. God, he was perfect.

“Will you fuck me? I want a photo of you inside me,” you begged, your voice as casual as if you were asking for the time.

Carlos nearly lost it right there. Sure, the camera idea was his, but he hadn’t been sure if you’d go along with it. Now, he was certain that this camera play was about to become a regular event. The thought of having these intimate photos to look back on whenever he missed you was thrilling.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

He quickly positioned himself above you, the anticipation in his eyes mirroring your own. As he entered you, the connection between you both was electric, a perfect blend of passion and intimacy. You managed to grab the camera, snapping a few photos of him lost in the moment, his face contorted with pleasure.

The sight of him inside you, captured forever, was intoxicating. You set the camera aside, your focus entirely on the sensations building between you. Carlos moved with a rhythm that drove you wild, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. You met his gaze, the intensity of his eyes almost overwhelming. “I want to see your face when you come.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name, your body trembling with release. Carlos followed soon after, his own climax shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you.

Breathless and spent, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there, tangled together, the camera forgotten for the moment.

“That was incredible,” you whispered, your head resting on his chest.

Carlos smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re incredible, mi amor. And these photos... they’re our little secret, our private memories.”

You nodded, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I can’t wait to make more.”

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

The next morning, Carlos was up before the crack of dawn, slipping out of the hotel room with the stealth of a ninja. While he was never one to shy away from public displays of affection, he knew you preferred a little discretion, so he made his exit early.

Before he left, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, made sure your alarm was set, and left a sweet note telling you to have an amazing day and that he would see you on the track.

When your alarm buzzed, you stretched luxuriously, savoring the lingering ache between your legs—a delicious reminder of the night before. As you sipped your coffee and slipped into your Ferrari red blouse, you began to feel the press of time against you. Just then, you heard a knock at the door.

Assuming it was Carlos, you flung open the door without a second thought, blissfully unaware that you were still in your underwear. Your surprise turned into confusion as you were met with your brother Charles’s puzzled face.

“Charles? What are you doing here?” you asked, slightly mortified.

“More importantly,” Charles raised an eyebrow, “Do you always answer the door in your underwear?”

“I’m getting dressed,” you replied, hurriedly searching for the black dress pants you had planned to wear. “What do you need?”

“I was wondering if you took that picture of me, Alex, and Leo yesterday. I want to post it on Instagram after getting it edited.”

You nodded, recalling yesterday’s events. “Yeah, it’s somewhere on my camera. Just grab it and show me which one you want.”

As you rummaged through your stuff, it completely slipped your mind that along with Charles’s family photo were some very intimate snapshots of you and Carlos from the night before. You headed to the bathroom to do a last-minute touch-up on your hair and makeup.

“What the fuck?!” Charles’s voice rang out, filled with shock.

Thinking he must have accidentally dropped your camera, you sprinted back into the room, heart pounding with fear. “What?! What happened?!”

Charles, looking like he’d seen a ghost, turned the camera toward you. “Why did you take photos of yourself in lingerie?”

Your heart sank, and you stammered, “I can explain.”

Charles waved a hand dismissively. “You know what, it’s none of my business. I’ll just find the photo of me and Alex and get out of here—”

Realizing he was about to see everything from last night, you panicked. “Wait! Stop!”

But it was too late. Charles’s eyes widened in horror as he saw Carlos’s face between your legs on the small screen. “Is that Carlos?!”

And just like that, your secret was out. Charles knew about you and Carlos, and you had a feeling that the rest of the Ferrari garage wouldn’t be far behind. While you’d tried to keep your relationship under wraps, it was clear that hiding it was becoming a losing battle.

Carlos had a way of making you fall for him faster than you could keep up, and it showed in every photo you snapped of him—and in every snap he took of you. The connection between you two was undeniable, a radiant energy that even the best camera couldn’t fully capture.

You were head over heels, and it was more than obvious. From the way his eyes lit up when he saw you to the way you practically glowed whenever he was around, the love between you was as clear as day.

So, while the secret might be out, you decided to embrace it. The thrill of your relationship was too exhilarating to hide away. With a cheeky grin, you prepared for the day, ready to face whatever came next—knowing that with Carlos by your side, every moment was bound to be an adventure.

"Yeah, that's him." You replied, proudly.

[adore-laur]

the girls asking Harry & their mom how they fell in love ?

——

With bath time for the kids done and dusted, you fall onto the couch like a rag doll with your eldest daughter in your arms wearing a fluffy white robe. She's about to get the princess treatment—her favorite thing is when you comb through her curls with apple-scented detangling spray. Harry holds your youngest and rhythmically walks around the living room to make her sleepy. She's in her zip-up pajamas, and she smells like fresh lavender. Her eyes are not yet closed, but Harry knows what tricks to use. Before long, she'll drift off and be transferred to her crib, all clean and fed.

As you yawn, the little arm tucked in your embrace wiggles free. It'll take significantly longer for her to become sleepy, but you're hoping some snuggles and soothing hair brushing under the dim lights will speed up the process.

She points aimlessly toward the fireplace, yet her eyes track above it. The artificial plant? The pillar candle? The row of picture frames?

"What, baby?" you ask, kissing her damp curls while readying the comb and spray.

"Pretty dress," she says, aiming her finger more precisely. You follow it and smile sweetly. On the mantel shelf, there’s a photograph in an elegant gold frame. It has been proudly displayed there for nearly five years as a keepsake from one of the most euphoric days of your life. It's an eight-by-ten photo of you and Harry after your marriage ceremony, sitting in the sleek black limousine that chauffeured you both to the reception venue. Through the open window, the hired photographer captured the moment Harry tried to unclip your lace bridal veil. Your legs, covered by the lush and heavy silhouette of your gown, were thrown over his lap even when there was plenty of space to spread out.

The reason that particular photo is the chosen one for the living room is because of how you and Harry are looking at each other in it. His fingers, one in particular the forever home of a gold wedding band, were tangled in your intricately styled hair, working to unclasp the many pins lost in the strands. But his eyes were feasting on you—captivated, ecstatic, and soaking you in like you were the only thing that existed. His smile was the brightest part of the photo. He was mid-laugh, with his dimples deep, nose scrunched, and cheeks pushed up so that crinkles formed near his eyes. You can hardly remember what he was laughing at. He was giddier than a kid in a candy store, with unrestrained hands and excitement. He never did end up successfully removing your veil. His mother later helped him out, and it's now packed away in a storage box in the back of your closet.

Your expression in the photo is quite similar to his—irrepressible joy mixed with fierce love for your better half. The high resolution captured the residual tears in your eyes, which were caused by the overwhelming emotions from when you greeted family and friends after the ceremony concluded. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. The afternoon sunshine poured into the limousine and accentuated the details of your exquisite gown and Harry's traditional tuxedo. You parsed through countless photos after the honeymoon, and Harry agreed that this one encapsulated the intimate love you shared with each other the best. It always brought you back to that day and that indescribable feeling. It still makes your heart pound. You would marry him a million times over just to cherish every single second again.

When you and Harry started a family together, the mantle shelf was filled with more precious photographs over the years. Now, with two children, anniversary milestones, and vacation memories under your belt, it's a beautiful display of the life you built and experienced with Harry. It's a reminder of what life is all about.

"That's mommy's wedding dress," you say proudly, beginning to comb through her hair. Harry stops his laps around the rug and stares at the picture too.

"You wore it when you met Daddy?" she replies, a cute sense of curiosity quieting her voice.

You laugh and catch Harry's gaze just as a crooked smile breaks loose on his lips. "No, I wore it when I married him."

"Oh. What did you wear when you met Daddy?"

"Gosh, I don't think I even remember," you say, searching your brain for that night at the dive bar. It was a late-night encounter, and you were tipsy.

Harry, still staring at the wedding photo, says, "An open-back dress. Black, long, and form-fitting." He shakes his head, lost in thought. "Effortlessly gorgeous."

"How in the world do you remember that?" you ask, a blush crawling up your neck.

"The disco lights were dancing across your bare back." He shrugs, like the memory is permanently stamped inside his brain. "I'll never forget that sight."

"It was a funeral dress?" your daughter asks, piecing together the visual her father verbally painted.

"Definitely not," Harry says, sending a secret smirk your way.

"Where did you see mommy in the black dress?" She lets you move her head around as you spritz her hair with the detangling spray.

"We were at the same... restaurant," you say slowly, careful not to mention bars around her. Better to keep her innocence alive as long as possible.

"What did you eat?"

"We didn't eat," you reply. "We had strawberry and lemon drinks." You intentionally leave out the infused with alcohol part.

"What did Daddy say?"

You smile, loving her endless questions. "He asked me questions about myself. Made me feel comfortable and special. Unfortunately, our conversation didn't last very long. Mommy was tired and had to go home."

"And Daddy thought he was never going to see her again," Harry added theatrically. "He was really bummed out about it, but by some magical force, he crossed paths with her a month later."

"Magic?" Your daughter whispers the childlike word, her eyes wide with interest.

"It sure seemed like it," Harry says, gently sitting beside you so as not to wake the baby. He looks at you, and somehow, his eyes transport you right back to the start of it all. "Took us three tries to finally get things right."

You lean forward to kiss him tenderly. "Look at us now."

He reciprocates the kiss—his is a bit more urgent and sentimental. He then admires his daughters, both on the verge of sleep, and rubs his palm over where his heart is. "Thank you for choosing me, baby," he says to you. There seems to be emotion lodging in his throat, but he clears it away and breathes in deeply. "I'm yours every day. And I love you for infinite reasons, but growing our little family has the number one spot in my heart."

You toss the comb aside and hug him, your daughters cocooned by two souls that somehow found each other more than once. By magic, fate, or simply coincidence, you truly lucked out.

——

[enviedear]

Hi!! Saw you wanted Jace requests, and I absolutely adore him soooo...

Something where Jace and the reader are training together(with war looming over them, the reader asked him to teach her some about sword fighting. She gets hurt somehow and she tries to hide it, but Jace notices obviously. So he's just like "let me see." And he tends to the cut on her hand or whatever wound you decide to give her and they're all sweet with each other.

Ahhh I love this man so much😭 Thank you in advance!💖

i really love hurt/comfort so despite the glaringly obvious fact that i could have combined this req with the other one abt training w/ him… i did not! i like to keep u guys on ur toes. i hope you like it nonnie <3

request (pls) ⊹ send me your thoughts

"you need to keep your stance lower," jace advises, his eyes keen as he watches your every move, “you balance will improve."

you nod, adjusting your position. the weight of the sword feeling foreign in your hand, but the resolve in your heart is unyielding. war is coming, and you refuse to be helpless. you refuse to be unable to protect yourself, or jacaerys.

you’re acutely aware of your betrothed and the kept dragons— fierce creatures. what you’re stranger to, is the looming threat of a war fueled by them.

you must be vigilant if you hope to survive.

"like this?" you ask, lowering yourself into a more stable stance.

jace smiles, a mix of pride and amusement in his eyes, "better. now, try to evade."

you raise your sword just in time to block his strike, the force of the impact reverberating through your arm. despite the intensity of the training, there's a strange sense of peace that comes from being close to him, from shared purpose.

hours pass, and your body begins to protest. muscles ache, sweat trickling down your back, but you push on, determined to keep going. you’re unsure if you’re torturing yourself at this point, head pounding.

finally you misstep, body unable to keep up with jace’s hits. your foot slips on the loose gravel, allowing jace's blade to catch the back of your hand, leaving a shallow but searing cut in its wake.

you bite back a gasp, quickly hiding your hand behind your back. "i'm fine," you insist, hoping he didn't notice.

but jace is not so easily fooled. he lowers his sword, stepping closer with concern etched on his face. "let me see."

you hesitate, but the sincerity in his eyes is impossible to resist. reluctantly, you extend your hand, revealing the bleeding wound. he takes it gently, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"it's not deep," he says softly, examining the cut. "but you need to care for it." he leads you to a nearby bench, where he pulls out a cloth and a small flask of water.

as he tends to your wound, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. the sounds of training fade, leaving only the quiet murmur of his voice and the gentle touch of his hands. he cleans the cut with care, then wraps it with the cloth, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"you didn't have to hide it," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "i want to help you, dōna dāria. always."

your heart swells at his words, the weight of the impending war momentarily lifting. "i know," you reply, your voice equally soft. "i just… didn't want to seem weak."

jace looks at you, his eyes filled with something deeper than mere affection. "you're anything but weak. it takes strength to face what you're afraid of. you do it every day with grace. i am beyond proud of you for that."

the sincerity in his gaze makes your breathing quicken, “thank you, jace."

he smiles, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "nothing to thank me for." he offers you his hand, “come, it’s growing dark, our chambers await.”

[entitled-fangirl]

The best thing for Marcus.

Marcus Volturi x human!reader

Summary: His darling mate falls asleep on his throne while he works.

Words: 511 (she's a short one)

Warnings: Too sweet for your teeth maybe? Idk vampires?

Author's note: I love Marcus so much. Younger or older version I literally don't care. He deserves the world, honestly.

Masterlist

.........................................................................

Marcus stood at the side table in the throne room, books scattered around him and his brothers. His hair is pulled back in a bun to secure it away from his face. He scans each page carefully, flipping through them quite quickly. 

The sound of soft breathing brings him out of his focused mind. His head turns slightly. 

His beautiful mate has fallen asleep on his throne.

Her head rests against one armrest, her legs draping over the other. His lips pull into a small smile as he admires her. The smell of her begins to distract him further, his eyes closing at the smell. This was his favorite smell in the world. The feeling of draining her blood from her body would be the greatest rush of adrenaline he’d ever receive, but he knew if he did so, he would become a hollow form of himself without her.

Aro and Caius are brought out of their work as well, the sight of Marcus in such bliss a welcoming and warming sight. He was a fierce king, but a lovely one at that. Love was what he did best. And while seemingly intolerable at times, his brothers had become harder to give him room to flourish. 

His ears perk up at a sound. A soft, quiet sigh escapes her lips. She was fully relaxed at this stage. Not that Marcus needed to know small facts like that, for he could see it in front of him, himself. His darling dove seemed to be completely relaxed. What he’d do to pick her up now and whisk her away forever. 

He approached her resting body, kneeling down in front of it. How strange to see one of the vampire kings kneeling before his own throne, where a measly sleeping human lay. A gentle hand brushes the hairs from her forehead. “Dove, you must awaken so I may take you to bed properly.”

She stirs slightly, her voice a soft whisper, “No, I… I’m fine. This is fine…”

He chuckled. She was a sweet and affectionate thing, always wanting to be near him. His hand reached to the back of her neck, cradling her head. “I’ll tell you what.”

Her eyes open only slightly more as he continues, “Let’s go to bed, the two of us, until you are well rested.”

She considered the proposal. It did sound rather nice. Her hands reach for his collar, “The entire time? Just the two of us?”

He nods, “Yes, Nightingale. I promise.”

Her arms move further back to wrap around his neck, “Alright.”

He smiles, positioning his hands under her before picking her up easily. He turns, beginning to walk out of the room before stopping. “Dear brothers?”

They both turned to him.

“I am excused for the day. I have other matters to attend to.”

Aro nods, watching Marcus and the human walk away. Oh, how that human would either be the best thing to happen to the Volturi, or the worst.

But one thing is for sure: She was the best thing for Marcus.

[princesspae]

until i found you.

eddie munson x shy!reader

eddie munson knew everyone in the small town of hawkins, indiana. or at least he thought he did. it was a normal tuesday at hawkins high school when eddie was sitting with his friends from the hellfire club discussing the next campaign as per usual in the school cafeteria. he was laughing at a stupid joke one of the boys made before his eyes landed upon what he believed to be the most beautiful girl his cynical eyes have ever come across. she was sitting at a lunch table by herself with a chapter book in front of her and she seemed greatly interested in whatever she was reading. her eyebrows were furrowed and her tongue poked out of her mouth as she read what was in front of her. 

eddie knew it was weird to stare, but he just could not help himself. “dude, what are you staring at…oh god” dustin henderson trailed off as he watched eddie get up from his seat and make his way over to the girl’s table. the hellfire club watched in anticipation, wondering which way this was going to go. eddie sat down in front of her and she pulled her attention from the book in front of her. even up close, she was just as beautiful. she watched as his chocolate brown eyes widened and he gulped a bit. “i-uh… what are you reading?” he asked nervously as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers. 

she could feel her heartbeat quicken with each second. she never would have thought that the cutest guy in school would just walk up to her and start a conversation. “um..the princess bride.” she spoke. her voice was so soft and sweet, eddie swore he could have collapsed right then and there. they sat there for a split second, gazing into each other’s eyes. at that moment, it didn’t even feel like they were in public. “i-i’m eddie by the way. leader of the infamous hellfire club” he introduced. she smiled. a beautiful genuine smile. 

“yes, the hellfire club. i’ve seen you guys around” she said. eddie felt his heart immediately skip a beat. “you’ve seen us around, huh? don’t know how i could miss such a beautiful face” he smirked. he watched as her cheeks tinted a light red shade and she looked down at her closed book with a smile on her face. “you’re cute” she chuckled. her eyes immediately widened at the words that slipped past her lips while eddie smiled so hard his dimples were visible. 

“hm.. well, you think i’m cute and i think you’re absolutely breathtaking so..would you wanna get some coffee with me sometime?” eddie asked, holding in a nervous breath. her heart was doing somersaults at this point. she’d had a crush on the metalhead since the beginning of her freshman year and now, here she was being asked out by him. eddie waited for her response with a heart full of hope. she nodded her head. “i’d love to” she smiled and eddie let out that breath he was keeping in. “good, good..i’m glad” he smiled at her.

it was that exact weekend they went on their coffee date. they talked and got to know each other to the point where there was nothing left to tell. eddie admired her love for books and cliche movies while she admired his love for music and dungeons and dragons. ever since that date, their friendship grew quickly. it seemed that no matter where eddie was, you could always find her by his side, following him around like a lost puppy. and eddie absolutely adored it. he never thought a girl would enjoy being around him as much as she did. 

she didn’t care for the way people viewed him. she didn’t care for the weird looks she received from other students in the hallways. to the town, he was a “freak”. but to her, he was the sweetest angel she had ever crossed paths with. and eddie seemed to grow fiercely protective of her once he came to notice how emotionally sensitive she could be and how she wasn’t necessarily a social butterfly. after a few months of hanging out nearly every day, their friendship started to change. but not in a negative way. they both looked at each other in a way he didn’t understand. it was a look of admiration and love. one day after school, eddie drove her to lovers lake where he already had a picnic laid out on the grass with a soft blanket. 

he held her hand as they walked over to the little setup. they sat there until the sun began to set. they talked, laughed, ate snacks, and flirted with each other. as she stared at the beautiful sunset, eddie took this as a chance to make his move. he gently put a finger under her chin and turned her head softly to look at him.

 he didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “can I kiss you?” he asked. their faces were so close that their lips were already brushing. she almost immediately nodded her head. “yeah..please” her voice came out in almost a whisper. in that moment with their lips pressed against each other, eddie swore he could melt. he loved how soft her lips were. how perfectly they both moved together in sync when kissing. “i never thought i’d ever fall in love until i found you” he mumbled with a smile as his forehead rested on hers.

just wanna say, i haven’t written anything in such a long time so, i’m so sorry if this is horrible. but thank you for taking the time to read it ♡

[into-the-very-fires-of-mordor]

Do you think…

That in private, in the deep dark recesses of their bedroom, the night before he sailed away for war, he took her face in his hands and smoothed away the tears, his cool palms soothing her hot cheeks, her anguished eyes meeting his longing ones. Do you think he kissed her forehead with his soft yet slightly chapped lips, bringing his lips to her ears and softly whispering that if he didn’t return, he wouldn’t blame her. He truly wouldn’t. Telemachus would need a father after all. This was a thought that could not be said except in the darkest recesses of night. After all, the queen had to keep the throne safe for the king, everyone knew this. But Odysseus knew what the lonely nights would be like, and he ached for the same fate to befall his Penelope. The dearest person to him, the deepest he’s ever loved, the joy of his life. All these applied to his son too, of course. But in a different way. 

Do you think she jerked away from him then, shock and betrayal flashing through her eyes a moment until, coming back an instant later she took his head in her hands, her slender arms wrapping around her husband as she nuzzled deeply into his face and neck. Do you think her husband’s voice broke as he repeated this sentiment to the fierce shaking of his wife’s head as she emphatically retorted “no nO NO! Never, Odysseus, NEVER. You are ᾰ̓γᾰπητός. Most beloved.” And do you think that that’s when Penelope feels Odysseus let himself go, when he starts trembling and shaking and surrendering to the feeling of total wrongness and terror and despair at this entire situation. That Agamemnon’s delegation of men slept soundly downstairs, waiting to rip him away from his life for the next however many years of war there would be? And do you think then that Odysseus and Penelope clung to each other then, in the darkest recesses of the night, their desires and minds and hearts all tangled up together as one as they felt the fullness of each other’s love for the last time in twenty years?

And do you think that, twenty years later, far greyer and far more aged, that they sprang into that very same bed again, together, rejoicing and worshipping in the revelation of their reunion. Clinging to each other with the same longing as before, now tinged with the disbelieving ecstasy of one whose life had been over but now had just begun. Do you think that their lovemaking lasted long into the night and far into the morning? And do you think that more importantly than that they learned each other’s hearts and minds again while learning each other’s new bodies again with the same glee and abandon that they’d had when they were young and carefree. 

Do you think every kiss after their reunion was as full of surprise and hope as their first had been, behind the great tree that they had eventually formed into their bed. Do you think that, blushing and stammering as children, they were shy with one another at first, until, as in the beginning, one of them cracked a joke or said a line that just set them off laughing…and then it was all as it had been before. 

Do you think that they loved one another through it all?

Yes. 

Yes, I really think they did. 

[veritas-scribblings]

complex - @jegulus-microfic - words: 856 [explicit / NSFW]

[warnings: breath-play | inspired by @lexithwrites's post]

They are good at this, James thinks. It’s like they were made for this, to fit together perfectly. Mirror images of one another. James is warm and open and bright like the sun where Regulus is distant and closed and shines in the dark. James is quick to love, exposed for the world to see where Regulus takes his time to let others in.

So James loved Regulus quickly and fiercely. He knew long before Regulus did. Gave his heart up without hesitation. Regulus was slower to love, James thinks. Surveyed the area for signs of potential danger. Sent his friends in after to double check. He gave his heart up reluctantly, hesitant to trust James with something so delicate and precious.

But when Regulus loves, he loves eternally. And now that James has his love, James fears nothing. He does not fear losing Regulus’s love, no, though sometimes he does fear losing Regulus himself.

They are in sync in many ways. They echo each other perfectly. Because they were made for this. To complement each other in life. To fit together perfectly in bed.

Regulus likes to be on top, because he likes the control of it all. Likes controlling the pace and the rhythm and the depth. Like’s torturing James with it. Likes pleasuring James with it. Likes giving James access to the entirety of himself so James can tend to his pleasure or watch as Regulus tends to it. And James loves it too.

Merlin, Morgana both, does James love it too.

Regulus uses James’s chest for leverage and support, one hand planted firmly so he can grind his hips, rock back and forth in a way that is winding the coil of tension inside James tighter and tighter and tighter. Regulus’s head is thrown back, exposing the perfect, pale length of his neck. He works his hand between his legs in time to his thrusts. Rubs his swollen, hard arousal between his fingers. He’s biting his lip, moaning, the rhythm he has established faltering and stuttering.

And James can’t help but whimper, because he can see it building in the way Regulus’s breathing has quickened, his chest rising and falling rapidly, in the way his brow is furrowed and the way his eyes flutter shut.

Regulus arches and then pitches forwards onto James, hips bucking unevenly, convulsing, crying out. His orgasm is long, and it’s an intense one that squeezes every rational thought out of him. And when he lands on James, his arm is thrown forwards and ends up pressed against James’s windpipe all but crushing it.

Regulus, James realises, is in absolutely no state of mind to notice what he’s doing.

For a moment, James can’t breathe. He panics. There is a part of his brain that completely spirals out of control, thinks that Regulus’s orgasm may last forever and that it will quite literally kill James. And maybe that is not the worst way to go, with Regulus orgasming on James’s cock.

But the panic subsides and soon James is overcome by a heady, dizzy rush. He cannot breathe, no, but for now that’s okay because he feels light, like he’s floating. Like he’s flying. And he’s so very aware of the sensations in his own body: the pleasure and bliss and euphoria shooting through him, lighting up his nerves, setting flame to his skin. He can feel Regulus coming still, the twitches in his body, the feeling of Regulus so-very-wet and warm and clenching around him. So fierce and tight at first, and then gentler, fluttering. Regulus moans, hot and breathy and rumbling against James’s neck.

‘James.’

When the air rushes back into James’s lungs, the world is spinning beneath him and he thinks that he might be spinning with it.

‘James.’

James blinks, groans, shudders. Thinks closecloseclose and ohgod and sogood and doitagainplease.

Regulus has picked himself up, his hands now planted on James’s chest. He grins down at James. There is devious wickedness in his expression as he begins to roll his hips and rock intently on James’s cock, drawing shaky desperate moans out of James.

‘Jamie,’ Regulus murmurs. He raises an eyebrow. They are on the same page, James realises. Of course they are. They are always so in sync.

James nods, a whine caught in his throat, his hands raising to find Regulus’s sides and hold him. Pulling back slightly, Regulus grins and begins a brutal pace.

‘Fuck,’ James gasps, writhing beneath him, barely able to string a coherent thought together. So close to losing his mind. ‘Fuck, Reg, I can’t…I’ll…’

‘Yeah,’ Regulus breathes. He leans forwards, a hand fluttering to James’s throat where he holds him very, very gently. Questioning. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ James echos, gasping, whimpering, mirroring Regulus who has not slowed the pace of his thrusts. He grips the bedsheets, fisting them in anticipation.

And with a grin, Regulus squeezes.

And James’s mind spirals, overcome with the light, heady, dizzy rush.

And everything whites out.

[allysdelta]

Some long-overdue fan art for @asleepyyy 's delicious Good Omens roleswap AU, Oopsie!Omens. They are cranking out comic pages like an absolute maniac right now, and I can't help but be in awe of both the commitment and the creativity.

Thoughts below:

Oopsie!Omens, for those who don't keep up with the comic, roughly follows the events of the Good Omens TV show, but with one significant change: Aziraphale deliberately takes the fall on the Starmaker's behalf back before the Beginning, so here, our ineffable duo are the demon Azazel and the Archangel Jophiel. So far, Jophiel hasn't learned what exactly transpired, but bless it if this odd little barn owl demon isn't both strangely familiar and inexplicably endearing...

This has been the first roleswap/reverse Omens AU that I have been able to get on board with, largely because our heavenly/hellish pair are recognizably them; Azazel is devout, meticulous, and willing to march into the unthinkable to defend what he loves, while Jophiel is clever, snarky, jaded, fiercely protective, and will let nothing stand in the way of finding the truth.

Besides the above, there are two things I really love about this comic: One is that the artist has taken considerable liberty with the ways that the two appear over time, through mannerisms and costume, and every form they take, whether it's a palette change or gender presentation, is a delight. The other is watching how the comic, from a technical and storytelling standpoint, keeps outdoing itself. The artist was always skilled, but it is sheer pleasure to see how much their work advances with each update.

Did I mention that the comic is also funny? It is FUNNY. Brace yourself for the occasional heart stab, though.

Azazel's hands burn when he attempts to pray to God. The thought of the smoke forming art nouveau-esque swirls was entirely too good to pass up.

The actual art (watercolor pencil, layered over with standard colored pencil) looks a bit more radiant in person. My camera was more interested in the pencil marks than the colors.

Asleepyy, if you're reading this, stay well, don't burn yourself out, and know we'll always understand if you need to take a break!