#tish x you

[chadwickswidowspeak]

when dating tish...

- she surprises you with a set of diamond encrusted grills to match hers.

[expectiations]

I still find it funny that people call eleven a "deadbeat husband" and their marriage "toxic" but twelve is the "perfect husband" and their marriage "wedded bliss" all because of the few moments we'd seen between 11 and River were them being "toxic". yes of course! let's ignore how the minisodes show how that description isn't true and even how little moments in the episodes themselves – "what? that's it?" (why haven't you kissed me goodbye? are you being sly on purpose so I'd kiss you first?) and "they wouldn't bury my wife out here" and the music room is the heart of the home and it's not a ghost story, it's a love story – show 11 cared and put in the work and yes, they're going to have disagreements like the ones in TATM because duh who doesn't but it does not mean it is the entirety of their relationship but people have taken it and made it the entirety of their relationship.

[ridingtedlassosjetskimustache]

Might have been able to brush off the “You’re going to have a family” line from Tish as oh yeah, that’s just AFC Richmond but then she had to go and say “you’re going to be a mother” and now i am full of confusion and hope

[fl3shm4id3n]

𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓓𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐢 𝐓𝐢, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲.

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: child birth, past conflict but mostly fluff.

Author’s note: Since Yi Ti is based of imperial china, I did a deep dive on ancient Chinese morals and stuff. Sorry if a lot of stuff isn’t accurate. 

Part 2 of Like mother, like son

When your parents had heard what was happening in the Red Keep, they welcomed you back home with open arms for as long as you needed, they even allowed you along with Aemond and Aerys to stay with them forever. You father was delighted to know that his grandson will be around his home. That made him really happy.

Once you arrived in Yi Ti, you and your husband will be staying in your bed chambers, it was still the way you kept it, but now a crib was built in it for Aerys to sleep in. While you settled in, you looked around your room, remembering a lot things, you remembered how the maids would come in to wake you up and get you ready for the day. Or how you’d sneak out into the kitchen for some sweet egg buns that were left over. You felt like a child again.

“What’s on your mind my love?” Aemond asked as he sat next to you on the bed, with Aerys in his arms. “Oh nothing its just, I feel like a child again, it’s been so long since I’ve been here” you admited. Your husband smiled and kissed your cheek lovingly “well, you’ll have to teach me some things, the common tongue for sure” he teased, making you giggle. “Of course, I’ll teach you everything”

You did, you taught him the language and how to read in that common tongue. Your language is considered hard but Aemond was a fast learner. You also told him about what kinds of food you would eat, also teaching him how to eat with Chopsticks, it was funny seeing him kind of struggle and getting frustrated, you offered to feed him if he wasn’t able to master holding the chopsticks.

As time when on, your son began to walk and talk or should you said babble he only knew how to say 'mama' or 'baba', it made you happy knowing that your son will grow up in the way you were raised in, not just one culture but both his parents cultures. Even if you were still in the Red Keep you would of thought him anyway.

An unexpected thing has happened, you were with child. Your parents and husband were happy but this worried you a bit. What if what happened at the Red Keep happens again? You thought but you shrugged it off at the moment. You shouldn’t be worried, you should be calm.

Instead of the maids helping you during your pregnancy it your mother, she was pampering just like when you were little. She had a feeling that you’ll have a daughter, you weren’t so sure but she insisted that you will be having a girl. Months went on and your stomach was swelling larger and larger. You felt as if you were going to lay an egg, this pregnancy was a bit more complicated than when you were pregnant with Aerys.

You needed extra assistance with things. Your mother still had the idea of you having a daughter, she was very excited about having a granddaughter to spoil just like your father spoils Aerys.

Then the day came, the day you knew very well, of you bringing your babe into the world. This time it was painful, way more painful. You felt as if your body was on fire, also feelings as if scales were burning you skin. It was painful. Then finally your babe was out. This time it is a girl, your mother was right, a healthy baby girl.

After she had been cleaned up and handed to you, her head was covered in white hair with a little streak of dark hair. Once your husband was allowed in, he was happy knowing that you and the babe were okay. Your mother was practically jumping with happiness with your father since you had another healthy babe. When your daughter was able to open her eyes, her right eye was a lilac purple and her left eye was the same dark shade as yours.

Aemond got a hold of his daughter, looking at her closely. Seeing that just like his son, she shared your features, those being your eyes, your nose, your lips and the same color of your skin. A small tear ran down his cheekbone “she’s beautiful” he said, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “What shall we name her?” you asked still exhausted from the labor. “ Aelora” Aemond said as he wiped the tear of his cheek. You smiled seeing your husband hold his daughter. Then Aerys walked in with a maid trailing behind him.

“Mama!” he shreeked running towards you, climbing on the bed and laying next you. You giggled as he managed to get on the bed and hugged you. “Hello my sweet boy” you said as you hugged him back and removing some hair away from his face for you to kiss his forehead. “Meet Aelora, your sister” Aemond said making his way towards the bed, sitting on your left since your son sat on your right.

Aerys leaned over to get a look at the infant. He smiled as he gently poked her cheek making her fuzz a bit. Your mother was in tears of happiness seeing the small family sitting on the bed.

After, once you had got a bath and changed into a pink hanfu, you fed Aelora before putting her to sleep. When she fell asleep, you laid her on the crib that was still installed in your room. Aerys was napping on the bed as well. You sat next him trying not to make much noise to wake him. Making yourself comfortable, you groaned by the pain of the afterbirth. You placed a hand on your stomach trying to sooth the pain a bit, you were used to this but this time it felt a bit more painful.

“How is my lovely wife doing?” you turned seeing your husband coming in. You smiled at him as he approached you, adjusting your pillow so that you can lay back. “I’m alright” you said as he sat on the chair that was pulled next to the bed, taking your right hand into his, gently kissing it. “You did amazing” he admitted, you sighed as you then spoke “I might end up gaining some weight” you admitted, feeling your stomach, every time you had given birth, it felt as if your stomach had been growing. Even after you gave birth, you noticed how you had gain a bit of weight, not only that but you had got more stretch marks.

Aemond leans over kissing your stomach “that’s normal love, I’ll still love you if you did.” He said making you smile. “I sent a raven to Helaena, letting her know of her niece. I miss her along with my niece and nephews” you admitted. Your sister by law was a very good person, she deserved the world in your opinion. She was there during your pregnancy, she was also the only person in the Red Keep who didn’t believe in those accusations, she was actually delighted when she would hold Aerys when he was still a babe.

“We should invite her, I’m sure she’ll love it here” he said as you nodded. “I agree, she might find some new bugs for her collection.” You smiled, it would be nice having her here. “I’m sure she’ll love spending time here” he said smiling. He missed his beloved sister, along with his niece and nephews. One of these days he will fly to the Red Keep to see his mother, but his first priority is his family. You and his children.

[useyernamesteven]

In my world, in a BETTER world, Weems survives the Nightshade injection.

Maybe its cuz Thornhill/Laurel didn't make it right or diluted it wrong. Maybe its cuz Weems was able to shapeshift her veins/arteries to stop the bloodflow to her heart. Maybe Wednesday was quick enough, vigilant enough, to knock Thornhill aside so not all of the poison had been injected.

However it happens, when Wednesday tells the police/fire department/emts when they arrive that Weems is dead in the greenhouse, rescue finds her barely clinging to life. They immediately rush her to the hospital for treatment and she survives, but remains in a coma.

The Addams make the trek to pick up Wednesday and also to visit Weems in the hospital. Morticia and Gomez were distraught when they heard the news of everything that had happened, but seeing one of their best friends from school in such a condition truly shakes them. And its made even worse when they learn Larissa has no family and no next of kin; no one is coming to see her, no one to be there for her when she recovers, and no one she can turn to.

Obviously they take up that mantel quite immediately.

They move her to a hospital closer to the Addams estate, hiring specialists and the best staff to care for her until she wakes. They visit her offten and Morticia always brings a bouquet of fresh cut rose stems to keep at her bedside.

Its the rose stems Weems recognizes when she finally wakes up some months later. Morticia used to keep several rose bushes on their balcony back in school and she'd know those flowerless thorns anywhere.

Gomez and Morticia arrive just after she awakes, having dropped everything when they got the call. And when they walk into the room, Gomez with relieved tears in his eyes and his megawatt smile, and Morticia holding a single white rose (flower and all), Larissa breaksdown crying, overwhelmed by the rush of love she feels all over again; as if the past few decades never even happened and they're all just young dumb hopelessly romantic teenagers again.

When Weems is fit to be released for in-home care, the Addams insist she reside with them. At first she tries to refuse, but even her stubbornness is no match for the Addams charm (and by the Devil are they persistent!) She stays with them for a while, fitting in seemlessly with the rest of the household routine, and keeps herself up-to-date on the revival of Nevermore (apparently the new headmaster is not well liked by the staff or students, and Wednesday is giving him a wonderfully terrible time (she is secretly proud and very amused by this)).

Long story short, the Addams end up courting their bisexual-disaster high school friend/turned housemate until Weems returns to Nevermore to reclaim her school from the villainous headmaster who tried to take her place.

(Also she needed to give her heart a break bcuz when an Addams goes after something, its all or nothing, and having two of them pursue her was enough to nearly send her back to the grave!)

[izus-doll]

Are we expecting Tish on the red carpet tomorrow for the movie premiere or are we gonna get the Oscar’s treatment 🥲🥲

Either way if she’s happy so am I

[weltonlasso]

love that they expect me to buy the “Ted had to go home to his family (son), that’s the only thing that matters” and then said but Rebecca’s real true love will materialize out of nowhere and just move his daughter to London from ANOTHER COUNTRY hahaha away from HER mother… all because Nora Ephron inspired a sports story???

[namor-shuri]

ʟᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴀ ᴡʀɪɢʜᴛ x ᴘʀᴀᴅᴀ

[luminescentglow]

send me s3 ep2 tedbecca prompts????

☺️

[expectiations]

If DoctorRiver has a million fans, then I am one of them. If DoctorRiver has ten fans, then I am one of them. If DoctorRiver has only one fan then that is me. If DoctorRiver has no fans, then that means I have moved on to the afterlife. If the world is against DoctorRiver, then I am against the world.

[ihearttish]

it’s a crime to be that damn fine girl 🫠! ( whoever made this edit is the 🐐 )

[syoddeye]

down the hatch / badgering

141 x f!reader | ~1.9k | series page tags: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, bad jokes, manipulation, spanking, manhandling a/n: you know that tunnel scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory? that's how it feels when i write this. a hoot and a half. banner by @/cafekitsune.

it’s an adjustment. living with roommates again. roommates who refuse to leave, thanks to all the death and destruction outside. convenient excuse, really.

no more naked mornings. you could go tits out—they fucking do—but you’re not entirely without reason. as salivating as they are, the hunks are your enemies.

even if they’ve showered, trimmed, and got some of the bloodstains out of their clothes. 

even if soap makes canned meat and powdered eggs palatable, whipping up a spam and rice bowl for you without asking.

even if gaz finds a five-hundred-piece puzzle on a scavenging trip and bites his tongue when you bat his hand away when he tries to help sort the pieces.

even if ghost slips a game of hangman under your door at lights out, and lets you guess a couple of letters each night. (first word? ‘wanker’. second? ‘larynx.’)

even if john—well, wait, no. the asshole hasn’t made a peace offering. probably because he knows you won’t honor them or because he’s sore about the whole ‘no cool nickname’ thing. whatever.

at night, alone in your room, you plot. how does one evict four man-roaches? make living with you worse than living outside.

in a weird way, your austrian neighbor and his aspirations for a fucking von trapp family: the squeakuel comes in handy. he hoarded all types of junk.

soap’s your guinea pig. he’s moody. something’s always itching under his skin. he snaps at the other men too easily and watches you like a dog admiring meat hanging off a bone. opportunity arrives one morning when john and gaz head topside and ghost settles in the living room. you corner the scotsman in the bunker’s tiny gym.

you linger in the doorway, fixated on the dark shapes under soap’s armpits. his mohawk sags, beads of sweat streaking over the freshly shorn hair. down his flexing muscles. and the grunting, christ. it’s a peek into heaven, which makes ruining it difficult.

without a word, you plop onto the other bench and take up the clarinet you found in your room. channeling the gusto of gus polinski, you wet your lips. how hard can it be? you don’t know polka, but you know rossini.

soap’s head snaps at the opening notes, nearly fumbling a pair of dumbbells, his face a flurry of anger, amusement, and annoyance. it’s a valiant effort, his ignoring you, but in the end, you only make it halfway through your best attempt at the william tell overture before he cracks. he rips the instrument from your hands and tosses it aside. he stands over you, smelly and slick, breathing heavily through his nose. 

you end up dragging him to your room.

soap is the definition of a romp in the sheets. a no-holds-barred deathmatch. it’s the first dick you’ve caught in months, and what a reintroduction. a miracle the bed survives. he starts with his mouth sealed to your clit, tongue working like it’s making up for lost time, as if your cunt and his face go way back. it’s refreshing, but you saw how fast he dropped to his knees for gaz.

two orgasms slip out by the time he wrenches off his damp clothes, chin glistening and eyes glittering. he goes cross-eyed the second his dick slaps against your folds, and you laugh at his desperate groaning when he sinks in. though, your laughs are choked off by his sudden, furious thumbing of your clit. (you punch him in the stomach—ignoring the filthy moan that elicits—and hiss out, “a genie isn’t gonna come out, stop fucking rubbing so hard!”) he ends up coming on your stomach and contorts to lick it off, muttering little gratitudes into your skin. it’s…cute. kind of gross, but cute. you kick him out after a power nap.

soap’s a wash. ba-dum tish. try, try again.

you set your sights on gaz. he’s tricky.

it quickly becomes apparent he’s the best at scavenging. smug about it, too, which you leverage. his ego’s easy enough to feed despite his unease. all it takes is batting your lashes and complimenting his hauls.

amazing. this must be the last jar of berbere ever.

pads? for me? so considerate, i’m stunned.

a mostly intact game of monopoly? wow, here, i thought we were done with landlords and taxes.

it’s simple. you begin with small requests. toothpicks. socks. lip balm. when he returns, he drops the goods in your lap like a cat with a mouse. stares at you with those pretty eyes while you lay it on thick. 

you escalate. either he’ll die on your absurd fetch quests or go crazy trying to fulfill them. brand new period panties. a specific type of hair dye. unopened baby lotion. naturally, he can’t find any of them. he still delivers approximations—granny pants, food coloring, and half a bottle of moisturizer—with a hopeful smile you crush under feigned hums of disappointment. ah, well, if this is the best you can do. it chips away at him. his smiles tighten.

you figure he’ll make a dumb mistake on his next outing out of some fucked desperation, and you’ll be down a roach. but after you tell him to keep an unopened pack of nail varnish because they aren’t your colors, he loses it. this time, you’re dragged to bed.

gaz pins you to the mattress, one hand on your throat and the other shoved into your leggings. pupils blown to the point where they’re shark-like. you’d spare a thought for all the poor creatures dead in aquarium tanks across the globe if he wasn’t hellbent on shoving a third finger in.

“so bloody irritating,” gaz seethes. “spoiled and greedy. have you always been a brat, or am i special?”

you spend your ration of oxygen wisely. “i think you think you’re special.”

for that, your knees meet your chest, and your pussy nearly chokes his dick. or so he tells you, pure filth spewing from his mouth. you giggle madly through the slight pinch of pain, mirroring the feral grin on his face. he’s big, and you could be wetter, but you’re not on your back for good behavior. he’s happy to tell you about that, too. how awful you are.

disappointingly, it doesn’t take long for him to lose his grasp on language. a shame, given his shit talk. 

he bats your hand away from your clit when you try to coax your orgasm along. clicks his tongue, eyes half-mast, and smirks. “gonna be good? gonna thank me?” 

in another world, you’d nod. whatever you say, beautiful. in this world, however, you flip the bird, and he flips you.

gaz pants like a bull, pulling you back onto his cock with an iron grip on your hips. his hand comes down across your ass, but there’s this je ne sais quoi missing. it’s the thought that counts, you guess.

after he makes a mess, you fully expect gaz to continue his tirade. instead, he finds a towel. he rolls you over and tucks you in. thanks you. it’s a shame memoirs are meaningless now as the perfect title comes to mind: ‘bunker bumping: backshots in the apocalypse’.

okay. zero for two. historically, settling for 50% isn’t unlike you. 

back at the drawing board, you reevaluate. annoying the men to death hasn’t worked, and they’re exceptionally durable in dogshit conditions. each day, they get closer to rigging the equipment necessary to contact their ‘friends’, seemingly unperturbed by your efforts. in fact, they seem more comfortable. at home. they poke around the utility room to assess what needs maintenance or improvement. the nerve.

it’s untenable. no matter what that dumb voice in your head insists, you miss solitude. miss not having an audience. you want to watch leon and the silence of the lambs without commentary. dance naked. leave the toilet door open. 

you withdraw.

the bedroom becomes your bunker within the bunker. you take meals alone. painstakingly move your puzzles and hoard books. shower at night after they go to bed. ignore them in the halls. keep your mouth shut when someone addresses you. it’s a fruitless endeavor, keeping your head in the sand, but a part of you hopes if you become as unobtrusive as possible, they’ll forget you exist. after all, they have each other. they put those squeaky single beds through the wringer.

problem is, you don’t account for scragglebeard himself. nosy fucker. 

it happens on shower night. towel-clad and testy, you trudge from the bathrooms and find your door open. you freeze in the hall, hearing clinking sounds and lowered voices. gaz and soap emerge, ferrying dishes and dirty clothes, not sparing so much as a glance. your stomach twists, immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. they’re reclaiming the space, and they’re finally going to kill you.

unfortunately, it’s not so simple.

“whatever this is,” john sternly says the second you enter the room, “we’re going to fix it.”

ghost traipses past, arms full of unopened cans and more dishware. you glare at his back, then turn to john.

“get the fuck out.”

he chuckles. “sweetheart, what’s not clickin’? this isn’t just your shelter anymore.”

“got it,” ghost reenters, a roll of duct tape held aloft. 

well. you had a nice run. sure, the calamity was a setback, but considering you probably lasted longer than everyone you ever hated, present company aside, that’s a tick in the win column. 

however, ghost doesn’t bind your limbs or cover your mouth. he crouches at the ventilation shaft connecting our rooms, rips off several pieces of tape, and covers most of the grid. “you fuckin’ talk in your sleep.” he points at the small hole he left uncovered and stands. “my bed’s right through ‘ere. it’s fuckin’ unsettlin’.” grumbling, he shuffles out once more.

john’s not shy about scanning you from top to bottom, but apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. he turns away. “what are we missing?”

you pick through what’s left of your clean clothes. “loaded question.” poking your head through a shirt, you shimmy the towel to your hips.

“where else would you find a clarinet?”

“up your–” he glares over his shoulder, and you smile sweetly. “there’s a small storage space in the closet here. it’s empty now.”

“we found the surveillance room and utilities. it stands to reason that there are others.” john scratches his chin, watching you like a hawk as you pull on shorts. 

“oh. you think?”

“i do.”

“well, think outside of my room. i’m going to bed.” you move to the bed and listen to john close the distance. he hovers, his breath hitting your neck in an exasperated huff. it sends a shiver down your spine. you bet he’s got what gaz was missing—experience behind the swing of his palm.

“like it or not, sweetheart, we’re sticking around. now, i’d prefer it if we kept things civil. based on what the boys told me, i know you’re capable of being friendly.”

it’s not the smartest decision in the world, wheeling on a man trained to kill. he catches your wrist as it winds up and twists it sharply behind your back. with one solid push, you get a mouthful of linen as your body promptly hinges at the waist. an angry string of obscenities gets lost in the sheets. you’ve never been so humiliated. or breathtakingly aroused.

john tuts.

“bad call, badger.”

[fl3shm4id3n]

My Visuals of different y/ns

If Rhaenyra had Ser Cole's Daughter

Velaryion (Strong) except she has purple eyes

Yi Tish Valyrian

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[zepskies]

Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ 

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.” 

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.  

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care. 

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

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[cloudshapedpatch]

Burgers and Lilies

Reth x Reader one shot

(canon compliant, no spoilers, ft. Shepp!Hassian)

Rated Teen for some spicy stuff at the end ;)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N’s hands were steady as she pulled the arrow back, feeling the pull of the bow deep in her shoulder, just like Hassian had taught her. The wind was gentle, rustling her hair and the grass gently as she focused on her prey. She knelt there, still as a tree, lining up the shot. The unsuspecting chapaa wouldn’t feel a thing. 

She heard a rustle in the grass behind her, and the chapaa must have heard it too, because it perked its ears, chirped, and ran in the opposite direction. 

“Sorry.” She heard a sweet voice behind her, and she could never be mad when he sounded so genuinely remorseful. 

“Its okay, Reth.” Y/N lowered the bow and put the arrow back in its holding case with the rest. She stood then, and turned around to face him with a smile. “There are plenty of others.”

Her smile only grew wider as she saw the picnic basket he was holding, and he held it up a little higher as he spoke. “When you didn’t come in for lunch like you usually do, I figured you were lost in the hunt again.”

“I never know how much time has passed when I’m out here.” Y/N said sheepishly. 

“I know. Should we sit?”

“Don’t you have to get back to the Inn? The dinner rush will be starting soon.”

“Ashura told me to take my time.” Reth was already getting comfortable in the grass, so she followed suit and watched him take out the sandwiches carefully. 

Y/N was glad for Reth’s company. Reth had been one of the first people she properly met after materializing in the ruins. She didn’t know much about what was supposed to be normal for humans, but she figured by how Jina, the resident Human Expert, had reacted, it wasn’t normal to appear in a cloud of pink mist and sparkles. At least, that’s not how the Majiri operated. Most of what she had learned about their way of life had come from Reth and his sister, Tish. They had taken a special liking to her almost immediately. 

“Copper for your thoughts?” Reth said, with his mouth full. She smiled at his boyish nature. 

“Just thinking about how much has changed for me since coming here. I’m sure my life before was very different than this.” She could tell this from a number of signs. Her hands had been soft, and her arms lithe when she first came into Kilima. Her body had not known a day’s work like she had grown accustomed to. Y/N’s hands were worn and rough with calluses now, and her muscles, while not much compared to Sifuu, were still visible. And she could run faster and farther and haul sernuk much easier now. She was sure the magic pack Zeki had given her, plus Kilima’s fresh air and pleasant weather was helping as well.

He nodded thoughtfully, considering his words before speaking. “Have you ever thought about what your life was like before? Not just human life in general, but yours specifically?”

She had heard the word ‘memory’ before, and while she was sure she had some memories, they were not the kind Reth was talking about. Like she could remember watering her plants this morning, and she could remember shooting her bow for the first time. But these memories were vivid in her mind, having been so recent. She was told older memories got fuzzy with the passing of time.

“I have.” She said shortly, not feeling like she wanted to get into it. “I really like my life now, though.” 

She leaned over and nudged her shoulder against Reth’s, pushing him slightly. He exaggerated the gesture and dramatically fell back into the grass. She placed her sandwich down on top of the basket and laid next to him and looked at the clouds. 

She could feel an uncomfortableness radiating from Reth, though, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Turning her head to look at him, she found him already looking at her, and he quickly looked up and away. 

Reth was… something. She wasn’t sure what this feeling was in her chest when he was around. It was different from the feeling of wanting to gossip or craft with Tish, or the feeling of wanting Hassian to be proud of her for hunting a large animal all by herself. It was deeper, and made her anxious, and made her feel warm all at once. 

Like she needed Reth to understand her, deeply, deeper than she knew herself. 

She was sure this was a purely human emotion, because Reth always seemed calm and collected. At least, now he did. When he had first spoken to her, though, he had tripped over his words greatly. 

“When I first met you,” he started, seeming to read her thoughts, “I had never seen a human before. And it surprised me.”

She let that hang there for a moment, feeling like there was something he still wasn’t saying. “What surprised you?”

She was still looking at him but he was none the wiser, his eyes locked on the sky. His cheeks slowly darkened to a magenta color. 

She felt something soft and gentle on her fingers, and upon looking down she found it was Reth’s own hand, slowly sliding in the grass closer to her own. She took in a quiet deep breath to calm herself, even as it felt like pure Flow was shooting up her arm at the contact. She was very confused, but allowed him to take her hand in his and intertwined their fingers. She didn’t understand the purpose of it, and yet she found it was quite pleasant and didn’t want to let go. So she relaxed into the grass, and gave his hand a small squeeze. He reciprocated the gesture, finally turning his head to look at her. He smiled at her then, a wide smile that made her toes curl in her boots and ingrained itself in her mind. His eyes sparkled in a way she had never seen before. 

Y/N looked away first, pointing out a cloud that looked like a star. Reth chuckled and squeezed her hand once more, agreeing with her, before he suddenly gasped and sat up, looking towards the basket. 

“Oh! I brought you something. Caleri waived my late fees so I could bring you this. I’m lucky she likes you so much.”

He handed her half-eaten sandwich to her, which she took another bite of as he opened the basket and produced a book, handing it over. Y/N sat up as well, taking it from him gently. Their hands touched briefly, and a burst of warmth blossomed in her chest. Ignoring it, she studied the strange writing on the worn red cover. It looked like English characters, but it was too worn to make out the words on the cover.

“You found this in the library?”

“I know, right? In the small Human section. I think it’s a cookbook. Look inside.”

She looked at him and shared his excited smile, then opened it to a random page. The pages were old and stuck together, and made a pleasant crackling sound as the spine expanded. Near the middle of the book, at the top of the page, was a full color picture of a cooked dish. It looked odd, it was a stack of bread and what looked like vegetables and meat. The writing at the top of the page read Burger.

Reth peeked over her shoulder, scooting closer to get a better look. Their legs were pressed together as he mouthed out the foreign word.

“Bur-jer.” He said confidently.

Y/N repeated the word. Jina would get a kick out of this. She wondered if she had read this book. She must have, but then again, Jina had never mentioned any human foods before. “I think it’s pronounced ‘bur-gur’, actually. Feels better in my human mouth.”

Reth laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, you’re the expert. Do you want to try and cook it?”

“But we can barely read the recipe!”

“Won’t it be fun? I’m sure we could figure it out.”

The idea did sound very appealing. She would love to get closer to her roots, and she would never deny spending time with Reth. 

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded, putting a handkerchief between the pages to mark the place.

They sat in the grass and talked a little while longer before Reth announced he had to get back to the Inn, so they packed up and parted ways. 

Back at her housing plot, after Y/N had washed the chapaa meat and furs in a bucket of pond water, she wondered about her odd feelings for Reth, and the tightness in her chest when she thought about him. She stood at her stove, grilling the savory meat and letting the smell fill the air. Sometimes, when she cooked, she felt sad, and wished she was cooking with others. Cooking alone felt deeply wrong to her, and she could not explain why. She let herself feel the sadness, and then let it wash away when she was done, just like Jel had taught her. And by that time the meat had finished cooking. But as she reached to grab a plate (from the set that Elouisa had gifted her) she accidentally hit the hot pan and burned her hand. 

All at once, her mind’s eye was filled with the sight of a kitchen that wasn’t hers. The wallpaper was different, and there were many plants, and more cabinets. A woman whom she had never seen before, and yet felt so familiar, with skin tan like her own, fawned over her. 

“Oh dear, did you burn yourself, button? Come to the sink.”

The woman grabbed her wrist gently and led her to the sink, and turned the handle. Cool water started flowing from what she recollected was called a ‘faucet’. The woman, her mother, put her hand under the cold flow of the water until the burning sensation stopped. 

And then Y/N was standing alone once again, holding her injured hand to her chest. Luckily, her sink basin was already filled with fresh water from the pond, so she submerged her hand in the cool water until the familiar burning stopped once again. 

Was that a memory? Was that what remembering felt like? Her mother looked so similar to herself. She had so many questions, and she knew that no one else would have answers. Suddenly she felt so alone, even in this village of kind people, she felt totally isolated. 

– – – –

The next day felt very weird. After her odd kitchen experience the night before, Y/N had tossed and turned all night and didn’t get a wink of sleep. She ended up chopping many trees to take her mind off it, and after that didn’t help, she figured she would head into town and see if Hassian wanted help filling his meat supply for sale. The hunting in silence seemed to help a bit, and she always enjoyed his company, but every time she pulled back an arrow in the bow, the burn on her hand ached, and she remembered her mother’s face. And after that, she spent some time with Tish and Jel in the square before their shops opened. But as Tish complained of washing her cotton in pond water and finding a tadpole in her fabric later, the memory of the convenience of running water came flooding back. So she spent the day on her housing plot, alone and wallowing, unsure of what to do with herself.

When she didn’t show up for lunch again that day at the Inn, Reth thought at first it was because she was hunting. But after speaking with Hassian and learning she had already been hunting that morning, worry took over. It wasn’t like her to run off without telling someone where she was going. Everyone worried over her, being the only human any of them had ever seen, and having just materialized just a few months ago, the village as a whole didn’t want her to get lost or injured or worse. He couldn’t leave the Inn and go all the way to her house himself, but he could do one better. 

So late that afternoon, Y/N was surprised when she got a knock at her door, and was even more surprised to find Auni at her doorstep with a small paper bag. Usually he just left packages in the mailbox or on her porch, even if she was home, so she found it odd that he knocked. 

“Heya! Reth sent me with some food for ya. Wanted to know where you were.”

She smiled at him. Even though she didn’t feel like smiling, Auni was just a little ray of sunshine, and it was impossible not to be amused in his presence. And it warmed her heart to know Reth was thinking of her. 

“Hey Auni, long time no see. Do you want to come in; I caught a few new bugs I wanna show you.”

He nodded enthusiastically, and when she was done showing him the butterflies and beetles, she sent him on his way with some fresh crab meat for his mother. Now she was left with her lunch (now, she supposed she could call it dinner), some carrot soup. Her favorite. When she was done eating the warm meal, she laid on her bed and smiled, kicking her feet and giggling that Reth would be so kind. 

There were a lot of things she didn’t know, but maybe talking about them would be a good start.

– – – –

“Steady… Steady…” Nai’o hushed to the ormuu, patting it’s head while Y/N knelt beside the large animal, getting ready to milk it. She had never milked an ormuu before, and Nai’o was kind enough to offer to teach her after she had offhandedly expressed her curiosity about it a few sun cycles prior. Delaila even offered to share some of the resulting butter for her work.

He had taught her the hand motions, and once she started, it wasn’t so bad. Nai’o stood and watched and gave her encouragement as the bucket slowly filled with the good milk.

But her mind was elsewhere. Last week she had come around the corner of the City Hall and found him and Kenyatta behind the wall, doing what Tish called ‘sucking face’ but had learned the official word was ‘kissing’. It felt like an intrusion and she had pretended not to see them and had quietly snuck away, but the sight (and the curiosity) had stuck with her. 

“Can I ask you a personal question?” She said, sure to say it loud enough to be heard over the mooing of the ormuu. 

“Go ahead,” he replied instantly.

Y/N felt awkward bringing up the subject, and she wasn’t sure why. But she pushed ahead in the pursuit of answers. 

“When you first met Kenyatta, what did you feel?”

“That’s tough. Kenyatta and I grew up together. We’ve always known each other.”

That made sense, but it wasn’t what she meant. She took a deep breath and turned away from the ormuu for a second to meet his eyes.

“What about when you started dating?” The word ‘dating’ was still new to her, but she had heard Kenyatta use it, so she was sure it applied at least to her and Nai’o.

“Well, when I realized that I had feelings for her, I tried everything to get her attention. I just wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.”

“Had feelings? What did those feel like?”

“Why, are you feeling this way? I wonder who the object of your affections is?” Nai’o teased. 

She blushed, and went back to milking in hopes that Nai’o couldn’t see her dark cheeks. “Affections?” she asked, when she had found her voice. 

Occasionally, the Majiri would say a word that Y/N did not recognise. It felt childish to have to ask what a word’s definition was (even if Y/N couldn’t remember her childhood). She had heard this word before, but not used in this way. 

“Ah, how to explain it…” Nai’o said, mostly to himself as he thought for a moment. “If you have affections for someone, you like them more than you like everyone else. We call it love. It’s different than the love you feel for your parents or siblings or a close friend. You want to spend the rest of your life with that person.”

She thought about this for a moment. She didn’t have parents that she could remember, but Sifuu had joked many times that she had adopted Y/N and was her makeshift mother. And Y/N would do just about anything for Sifuu, so she guessed that was love, in a way. But she certainly did not want to kiss Sifuu. And she felt a camaraderie with Hassian, which Sifuu had also mentioned that Hassian, her Shepp, worried over her like an older brother (Hassian was not thrilled that his mother had mentioned his concerns, much like when he found out she had told Y/N about the poetry). And the mere thought of kissing Hassian made her want to throw up. And she felt proud of him in ways similar to how Tish described feeling over Reth. Now that she thought about it, she figured that Sifuu and Hassian were like her family, similar to the Daiya family. But what did that make Reth?

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Reth lately,” Nai’o continued when she didn’t say anything. 

She had brought up the subject thinking about Reth, but now felt like she should be doing more for Sifuu and Hassian. But she liked finishing what she started, so she circled back in her mind to her ultimate concern: the weird pressing in her chest when she was with Reth.

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that you want to kiss Reth, don’t you?”

Her words stuck in her throat at his bluntness. Did she? “I don’t know.”

“I know what you can do,” He said, looking very proud of himself, “Go to Zeki’s and buy a box of chocolates. And then give it to Reth. See what he does.” He said with a wide smile, and he leaned down to pick up the now full bucket of milk. Y/N took the cue and followed him into the house, leaving the ormuu with a small pat. 

“I thought chocolates were gifts for married folk only.”

“I give chocolates to Kenyatta all the time, and we aren’t married. Don’t you want to be like her and I?”

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure that she did, as the image of him and Ken with lips locked resurfaced, but she guessed it couldn’t hurt. “Alright, I’ll try it, and let you know.”

He clapped his hands and jumped up, in a demeanor she had never seen on Nai’o. His nosiness surprised her. “Good, tell me all the details. Ken is gonna love this.”

They went into the house and Delaila showed Y/N how the churn worked, and let her try her hand at churning the butter, but ultimately Del sent her on her way with some jam, and promised to have the butter delivered when it was finished. 

– – – –

It wasn’t for many sun cycles that Y/N and Reth could work their schedules around and meet up to try the recipe. Anxiety bubbled in her chest at the thought of what she was going to do, but she also was apprehensive to cook again. After burning her hand, she had avoided her kitchen like it was tainted with the plague. As much as she had relished and replayed the memory of her mother in her head multiple times, she was scared it was going to happen again. Even though she was slowly growing used to recalling such an old memory, having it spring up so suddenly that first time was alarming. 

She had already spoken to Jina about it, and she had urged Y/N to continue trying new things in hopes of triggering another memory to resurface. Y/N wasn’t exactly sure that she wanted that to happen, but maybe she could learn more about her own past, and about what happened to the humans in general. 

So when the time came where Reth was on his way to her home, she was a little out of sorts. The box of chocolates was hidden in a cupboard until the right moment appeared, the ingredients (what she had) for the recipe were laid out on the counter, fresh water in the sink basin, and her home cleaned and reorganized. She had only had time to build two rooms since coming to Kilima, but her living-kitchen-entry was tidy and her bed was made in the next room. Even Eshe would be proud of the decorating. 

After what felt like ages of pacing the floor, finally she heard a knock on her door. Wiping her sweaty hands on the new dress she had bought from Jel for the occasion, she opened the door. 

There he stood, in a crisp blue button-down shirt, a bouquet of heartdrop lilies in hand, and a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, sweet-tooth. Ready to make Majiri food history?”

The sight of him alone was enough to make her swoon, but the flowers were something else entirely. 

“Of course, come in, make yourself at home. Shoes off, please.” Y/N said hoping she masked the nervousness in her voice, and she accepted the flowers from him while he took off his boots. They were beautiful, and she had just bought a new vase the week prior too, so the timing was perfect. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re lovely.”

“Not as lovely as you.” He replied all too quickly, causing Y/N to blush profusely. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, reaching into her cupboard for the vase and filling it with water. The flowers sat pretty on her table for two (she had crafted the second chair just for Reth that day), and the two of them washed their hands in preparation to cook.

“So first the recipe says to make the… the patty? I think it says.” Y/N said, looking at the open cookbook on the counter. 

Reth came up behind her, putting an arm on the counter next to her and looking over her shoulder to attempt to read the book. She blushed at his close proximity. She could feel his breath gently on her neck. 

“Sounds about right. I’ve never ground up meat before. How do you think we should do it?”

“Maybe we should just mince it and hope for the best.” She looked at him and was surprised just how close their faces were to one another. Despite her pounding heart, she liked being close to him. 

“I can do that, easy peasy.” Reth smiled, locking eyes with her. “Where are your kitchen knives?”

“Um… I’ll get one.” Y/N sputtered. She had to get ahold of herself! She should be cool.

It was increasingly hard with the heartdrop lilies on the table, seemingly watching her. 

While Reth minced the chapaa meat, Y/N worked on washing and cutting the tomatoes, lettuce, and onion. The recipe also called for something called ‘cheese’, but neither of them knew what that was, so they decided to just leave it out. They seasoned the minced meat with spice sprouts, wild garlic, and an egg, formed it into round patties, and grilled them on the stove. The recipe was worn over the part talking about the onions, so Reth suggested putting the onions on raw. And they didn’t have any ‘burger buns’, so they made do with hot hound buns instead.

"Hey, Reth, I have some news."

"Oh? Like what?" He asked, flipping one of the burger patties in the pan. She watched the action, and got distracted for a moment watching the muscles in his forearm ripple.

She twiddled her hands in anticipation. "I think I remembered something. About my past life, I mean."

At this, Reth perked up and gave his full attention to her. "Really? What did you remember?"

"It was odd, it just came so suddenly," Y/N started, then backtracked. "I was just cooking last week and burned myself, and I remembered a time when I was younger and had also burned myself while cooking, and my mother had taken me to the sink and run my hand under cold water to relieve the burn."

He thought about it for a moment, then replied, "Do you think you'll remember more things?"

"I don't know. I kind of hope so, but it was a little startling. Maybe next time it won't be as surprising."

He nodded, understanding. He could only sympathize with her since he would never experience losing all his memories and waking up in a strange place, but he was sure this was a new and exciting time for Y/N.

"Thank you for telling me. I hope you get to remember more about your past life."

"Of course, thanks for being here for me. No matter what I remember, though, you'll still be my favorite part of my new life."

Reth blushed at this, and went back to tending the meat in the pan, lest it burn like his cheeks.

The result of their efforts was a little oddly shaped, but upon sitting down to eat, found it was absolutely delicious. They enjoyed their meal together with good conversation, about Tish’s latest creation, Y/N’s new dress (Reth told her she looked absolutely stunning, cause her to nearly choke on her human burger in surprise), and Ashura mentioning something about a raise for Reth. And after, they washed the dishes together, standing too close together, arms touching, laughing and splashing water everywhere. 

It was the best night Y/N had had in a long time. And it was all thanks to Reth. 

“Hey, I’m having such a good time, do you think I could stay a little while longer?” He asked, when the last dish had been dried and put away.

“Of course, I don’t want you to go home yet either.” She admitted. 

“What would you like to do?” He asked, plopping down on the couch and sinking back into the cushions. 

“Actually, I have something for you.” Y/N admitted, feeling nervous and excited. Reth made her feel like she could do anything, and like she was on top of the world, and she hoped her gift would instill similar feelings in him. “But you have to close your eyes.”

He closed his eyes immediately, and her heart leapt at the sight. “Alright, I do love surprises.”

With a wide smile and shaking hands, she carefully pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates and sat down on the couch next to him. He sat up as he felt her weight on the couch next to him, and instinctively, she scooched closer to him until their legs were completely pressed together. 

She placed the chocolates on his lap gingerly. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

She watched as he opened his eyes, looking down at the box in his lap, then turned to look at her with such boyish joy in his eyes. Nothing could have prepared her for the energy in that room, filled with tension and joy and pure happiness and nervousness all at once. It was nearly overwhelming.

“You really want me to have these?” He asked, his voice not much above a whisper. 

“Of course, all for you. You deserve them.” Y/n said simply, though she wanted to proclaim that he deserved so much more than a simple box of chocolates. 

But he looked at her like she hung the flaming moon, like she was all he had ever wanted. Because, simply put, that’s exactly how he felt. 

“Y/N,” he started, carefully placing the chocolates on the coffee table in front of him, never taking his eyes off of hers, “You are the most generous, kind, beautiful soul I have ever met,” Now that his hands were free, he reached for hers. Gently caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs, he gazed into her eyes with all the adoration in his heart. “I’m honored you would gift these to me. Thank you so much.”

Y/N was so happy she could cry. And she nearly did. Reth made her feel so safe and appreciated, and she knew he reciprocated everything she felt by the way he looked at her now. She glanced at his lips and wondered what they would feel like pressed to her own, and now she understood Kenyatta perfectly. 

He seemed to read her mind, moving one hand to her face, gliding his thumb over her cheekbone as he pressed his forehead to hers. With eyes closed to fully savor the moment, he whispered gently, “May I kiss you?”

Her heart was doing flips in her chest now as he moved ever closer, and she mewled out a meek ‘yes’, feeling the faint brush of his lips against her own due to their proximity. 

He wasted no time once she had consented, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. His hand on her face held her in place, and his other hand moved to her back to pull her closer. Her own hands rested on his strong forearm, and one on his shoulder as she deepened the kiss. He was all over her, invading her senses, and all she could think was more, more, more. She wasn’t sure what ‘more’ entailed, but she would happily spend the rest of her life figuring it out. She needed him impossibly closer, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing by the way his hands gripped the fabric of her dress. His tongue gently opened her mouth, allowing himself access to her. The sensation was foreign but she found it wasn’t unpleasant. She allowed him to explore her mouth for a little while, and just enjoyed the feeling of him pressed against her. 

Reth was ecstatic that Y/N returned his feelings, and was even happier that she was content to sit in his arms. He had dreamed of this moment ever since he first laid eyes on her, that first day she came into his world. He relished in the feeling of her so close, her warm body pressing ever closer, her hands wandering across his arms and back. She touched his neck at the base of his hair, and he simply melted into her touch. She was everything he could have ever wanted. 

He got so excited that he scooped his hands under her legs, chuckling at her gasp of surprise as he lifted her into his lap. Warm hands settled on her hips as she gazed into his eyes with all the love in her heart. He just wanted her closer, so he pulled her to his chest for a deep hug. He pet her hair, gently carding his fingers through as she sighed into his shoulder. Nuzzling her nose into his neck, Y/N sighed contentedly. She could sit like this forever, legs on either side of his, as close as she could possibly be, and wondered what she would have to do to make this a daily occurrence. 

“Reth?” She asked, after many minutes of just sitting in each other’s presence. 

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Will you be mine? Only mine?”

“Yes my love, I’m already yours.”