#Grow Taller Secrets

[lunacchi]

I had a sudden flash of inspiration while replaying Pokemon Colosseum and made some regional variants for one of my favorite Pokemon, Tropius! 🍒

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.

"Shouto,"

"Hm?"

"You're drunk,"

Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."

More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.

He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.

You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.

But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.

(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)

You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.

"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."

"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"

"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"

His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.

He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.

But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?""

He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.

"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."

"Something you can't tell me?"

"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."

"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."

He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."

"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."

He smiles at you more fully that time.

He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.

He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.

...A box?

Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.

"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."

Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.

"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.

"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."

You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"

He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."

"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"

"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."

"You're silly."

"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."

"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"

He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."

"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"

His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.

"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."

He smiles. "I'd like too."

You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.

"Anymore secrets?"

He thinks on it, then hums.

"We should get a cat."

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Alfred knows Danny from long ago during his secret service days. He always found the other odd, but his company was enjoyable enough to overlook. They were friends for a short while. Danny even saved his life once or twice. However, despite their trust in each other, they didn’t keep in touch. It was like Danny disappeared and he never heard from the jolly man again. That is until Danny showed up at the Wayne manor decades later looking the same as when they parted ways carrying the daughter he talked so much about.

Danny stood on the front porch with a toddler Ellie in his arms. She’s been behaving wonderfully. The new environment gave her curious self something to look at and distract her from a tantrum.

He rings the doorbell awkwardly with her in one arm and a bag of supplies resting on his shoulder.

If things were any different he wouldn’t be here, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do even if it’s the last scenario.

Footsteps can be heard on the other side before it opens to reveal a boy in sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s a little warm for the summer and Danny expects they have an expensive electric bill for this large place.

The kid, Damian Wayne he remembers, scowls. He gives Danny a once over with narrowed eyes.

“How’d you get through the gate?” Damian demands.

Danny blinks and adjusts Ellie on his hip.

“I walked of course.” Damian grows even more suspicious and Danny decides to change the subject. “I’m Danny. Danny Fenton. And this little monster is Ellie. Want to say hello, Ells?”

Ellie looks at Damian for all of three seconds before losing interest.

“No.”

Danny sighs. Yea, he was expecting that answer. It’s her favorite word at the moment.

“Why are you here?” Damian asks.

Straight to the point then.

“I’m looking for Alfred Pennyworth. Is he around? It’s urgent.”

“What is it concerning?” Damian straightens his spine to appear taller but it doesn’t change the head difference.

Danny sets Ellie down on the brick when she won’t stop squirming to be let down. She doesn’t waste a moment wandering away to investigate her surroundings. Damian raises a brow while watching her.

“I’m cashing in that favor he owns me.”

That got the boy’s attention. He studies the adult for a moment before opening the door wider for the both of them to enter.

Danny manages to wrangle Ellie into the house with Damian’s judgmental gaze following them. The bag had slid down to his elbow when he bends down to hold Ellie’s hand to steady her.

It’s as Damian is closing the front door that a man comes around the corner in a butler uniform. The same man he was looking for.

Alfred freezes after registering who was in front of him. The older of the two sighs heavily. Shoulders back and chin high, as expected he approaches this situation with a level head and posh dignity.

“Daniel,” addresses Alfred. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Danny cringes. He really should have called with a warning but there wasn’t time. He also always hated it when Alfred refused to use Danny’s preferred nickname, a sort of teasing that was consistent. If Alfred was anything, he’s stubborn enough to do what he wants and get away with it.

“Sorry, Alf. Next time for sure.” Danny sends a cheeky grin that doesn’t impress anyone. He glances over at his daughter to see her trying to touch the expensive looking vase on a side table.

“Ellie!” He dashes over to pull her away which immediately starts a struggle war and fussing. He knows if he lets this continue it will turn into a full blown tantrum.

“That’s not ours, we can’t touch it without permission.” She whines in frustration. “Do you want to ask if it’s okay to touch? Gently?”

Ellie thinks about it a second before looking up at him. Danny nods in understanding and turns her a bit to look at the two spectators.

“Toush?” She asks with an adorable chubby arm raised to point at the vase.

“Are you going to break it?” Damian asks with folded arms.

“Master Damian, I’m sure that’s not her intention.” Alfred turns with a smile back to Ellie. “That vase is fragile. Can you be very careful?”

Obviously her answer is a confident nod of the head and immediately trying to reach out again. Danny helps to lift her and hold her wrist steady.

She pets the vase like a kitten, feeling the raised edges of the design with her little hand. After a few long moments Danny pulls her away to set her on his hip like before, earning an annoyed huff in his direction for his efforts.

“Very good, Ellie. I knew you could do it.”

She hides her face in his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to send a look at Alfred. The older man understands immediately and inclines his head before turning to walk further into the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” Danny shoots Damian before following Alfred to what appears to be a parlor a few rooms away.

“I shall fetch some tea.”

Danny shakes his head as he sits.

“No time. I’m in a rush.”

Alfred eyes him up and down before gingerly sitting in the armchair across from him.

“Yes, so I have noticed.”

In other words, spill your guts for abruptly intruding like you have.

“Something…urgent has come up-“

“I assumed as much.”

“-and I know how good you are with kids-“

“Daniel, you cannot expect me to-“

“You owe me,” Danny says firmly. Alfred leans back at the reminder. He knows Danny would never hold that over his head without a good reason. “I have no one else to go to, to look after her. I normally would just take her with me, but I- it’s gotten dangerous. Too dangerous for her.”

He looks to Alfred with desperate eyes. Ellie tries to squirm out of his arms, which reflexively tighten securely around her middle. He can see the dark bags under the younger eyes.

Alfred sighs.

“How long?”

Danny sags and Ellie slips out of her father’s arms as soon as the chance presented itself. Alfred would need to keep a close eye on her in the future.

“A week, two, three tops.”

Alfred sends an unimpressed look and Danny cringes but doesn’t redact his statement.

“Anything I need to know?”

Danny looks down at the hastily packed diaper bag like it had all the answers.

“We’re kind of in the middle of potty training so I threw in some pull ups but those will go quick. She hates carrots. Won’t go to sleep without a bedtime story. Don’t give her any sugar after four or she’ll turn into a monster. Oh, and her powers are coming in so I packed a shield for at night.”

Alfred raises a single eyebrow.

“Could you be more specific?”

Danny waves it off like it was no big deal.

“Just the normal stuff. Invisibility, intangibility, and flight. It’s all very weak and sporadic right now. Keep calm until she figures it out on her own. She’s just learning.”

“So you are leaving a child in my care for an unknown amount of time, a child that can disappear, walk through walls, and fly. Anything else?”

Danny rubs the back of his neck guiltily.

“Why do you always have to make everything sound so…” He sighs heavily, glancing over at Ellie who has managed to take every blanket out of the basket in the corner and crawled in to make a nest out of the materials. He smiles fondly.

“I’ve probably forgotten something, but I know you can handle it. You can take care of her.”

Danny then stands and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over.

“My number is at the top in case of emergencies. Her favorite stuffy is in the bag, she won’t sleep without it. Her favorite word right now is ‘no’. I wrote down anything I could think of, which you probably can’t even read my chicken scratch…”

Alfred gently takes the paper from his hand and Danny slowly makes his way to the messy corner.

“Hey, Elles,” he says softly, far softer than anything Alfred has heard from him. Usually he was a rambunctious, jovial loudmouth, but right now he was hesitant. Prolonging the farewell they both know needs to happen with how urgent this mysterious problem was.

Ellie looks up for a moment before going back to maneuvering her fort.

“I gotta go away for a while. Alfred here will be watching over you while I’m gone, okay?”

That got her attention. For a child that young, she knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what. And now her dad, her protector, was leaving.

“No.”

Danny folds his lips together, expecting the response but still not ready to go through the hard part of leaving.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I am, but I have to go. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”

“No!”

Danny sighs and reaches in to pull her into his arms. She fights him valiantly, but he was stronger and bigger.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

They might as well have been empty words for the lack of effect it had on the struggling toddler. Danny sways with her for a few beats until he gets an idea.

“Danielle, look.”

He makes sure she’s watching as he creates a loop of ice, infused with his ectoplasm and therefore, his signature.

“Hold out your hand,” he coax.

She does so with a sniffle and he gently moves the glowing green ghost ice around her wrist to make an indestructible, unmeltable bracelet. He shrinks it until he’s sure it won’t fall off and won’t be too tight either.

“There. Now you have a piece of me wherever you go. Even when we’re far apart.”

She pointedly doesn’t look at him.

“I love you, Ellie. I’ll be back soon.”

He kisses her forehead, breathes in her soft scent, and turns to Alfred. The older man is watching carefully and makes his arms available for a new passenger.

With a deep breath Danny hands her over, Ellie immediately starts whining and tears fall from her eyes.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. Alfred here is a mighty warrior. He’ll keep you safe. I trust him.”

He does his best to wipe away her tears but he has to physically step away when she reaches for him. Instead he looks to Alfred.

Alfred holds her securely and nods in assurance.

“Not to worry. Danielle and I will be too busy to notice your absence.”

Danny smiles at the effort but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He can’t resist petting her head one last time, her pigtails in disarray, and wiping her tears from her cheeks.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he promises, marking it with another kiss to her head before backing away again. He looks at Alfred sending his gratitude without words. Alfred accepts it with a slight incline of the head. Danny nods once and leaves before he can’t.

The door opens and the young boy from earlier stumbles back with a glare to hide his embarrassment.

“Master Damian-“

Danny holds up a hand to stop Alfred. Of course the boy would eavesdrop, what did either of them expect?

The young father leans down to get eye level with Damian, looking him straight in the eye with seriousness. Damian straightens at the attention.

“It’s very important Ellie is safe and occupied while I’m away. It would mean a lot to me if you would help Alfred do that.”

Damian folds his arms.

“What would I get out of that useless goal?”

“What would you want?”

“Daniel, Master Bruce would not-“

“A knife,” Damian interrupts. “Not just any knife though. It has to be special.”

Danny hums in thought, studying Damian for a moment, almost making the boy squirm.

“Deal.”

He holds out his hand and Damian shakes it after a second of hesitation. Danny nods to the boy, then nods to Alfred, and he’s finally out the door making a portal as he walks from the gentle breeze of outside to the chill of ectoplasm, transforming into his kingly attire as he crosses the threshold.

The GIW had a lot to answer for and he couldn’t hold his subjects back any longer. The United States had declared war against the Infinite Realms and he would be the one to answer.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 05 - Dragon Cock]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Dragon!Yoongi, Fantasy!AU, Secret Love!AU

Kinks: dragon cock, cunnilingus, magical spit, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetrative sex, he tries so hard to be gentle with her, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, praise, strength kink, size kink (he is a lot bigger ‘cause dragon yk), giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him!! he is my beloved pookie and i’ve only known him for one day! also, click this link if you wanna see his delicacies :) i’m serious, do it :)

You lived in Bailemon, which liked to consider itself a town, but it was very far from that. It was small, perhaps even small enough to be considered a village instead of a town. Not many outsiders visited Bailemon because it was far from big cities, nestled between two high mountain ranges and hidden in a dense forest. The roads were passable, but not good. People here lived from the forest and from the little mountainous farming they were able to do during the warmer months.

Your town – or village – had a village square where each second day, the farmers and merchants gathered to sell their goods. In autumn, there was a festival of fire held on the square to ward off the evil spirits of winter. Bailemon also had a place of worship, which was considered holy beyond comparison. It was said that on its grounds, evil cannot tread and in times of danger, one should run to it for shelter.

The people in your village were superstitious, they believed in ghosts, dark magic and demons. You knew their superstition to be justified. This world was dark. The nights during the cold months were too long not to bring forth evil. But you also knew that stuff like holy grounds were nothing but lies to make life in the village easier. Evil walks where it pleases, it takes what it wants and leaves no room for escape.

You lived in the village with your aging parents, taking care of them as their only surviving child. You had a brother once, but he walked into the forest one day and never returned. People say that evil spirits got him, but you know that this was a lie because you looked for him. At least you tried to because you never found him nor traces of evil spirits. You are convinced that it was simply a pack of hungry wolves which took him from your family. Or perhaps he ran away to somewhere warmer and happier. You wouldn’t blame him.

As the only living child of your parents, it became your duty to tend to them in their growing age. You earned money forging swords for the Queen’s army and went hunting whenever food ran out. You also helped the farmers shoe their horses and ox and sometimes scared villagers came to you asking for yet another lock for their front door. Your family lived well thanks to you, even if work by the forge was hard and difficult.

If you weren’t sweating by the scorching fire or hunting in the forest, you walked it in search of berries and mushrooms or to train with your sword. The reason however why you walked the woods most, was the dragon living high up in the northern mountains.

Dragons. Yes, they were as real as evil spirits and wicked demons were and your village was under the protection of one.

Dragons didn’t look as one might imagine a dragon to look like, at least not always. They could morph their enormous dragonic bodies into human-like bodies and walk among people. Their eyes, however, always remained a fiery yellow and their canine teeth were always sharp and pointy. They were also taller than normal humans and had scales down their necks and torsos. Some even had scales on their hands and sharp claws which sliced deeper than any blade ever could. In the lands of humans, dragons were considered gods.

The festival of fire was held because of the dragon living in the mountains. A brave soul is sent to his lair to ask him for his presence each year. Then once the dragon comes down from his high home, he lights the fire with his hot breath and with it, wards off the evil winter spirits. Once the fire burns bright, the villagers begin dancing around the fire in pairs, thanking the dragon for the fire and his protection while he sits on a wooden throne, overlooking the dance. He is always alone during these festivities, drinking wine and eating meat, except for when one of the many willing women – and men – try catching his attention. He never reciprocates. 

Marrying a dragon was considered a gift from the gods and not many were successful. Dragons were a distant people – perhaps that is why they became so rare these days – and scarcely engaged with humans except for when they were needed. They lived longer than any human ever would and because of their bigger bodies, many who tried to be intimate with a human, ended up hurting their beloved counterpart. So for the safety of humans, of whom the dragons were very fond, they stayed away from them.

That doesn’t stop you however from regularly walking the path to the dragon’s lair. Sword strapped to your back and with a thick dress warming your body, you walk the steep and stony path. You put your parents to sleep already and locked the cottage. The priest spoke of evil spirits dancing on the wind tonight and you didn’t want to risk anything. You knew that they were safe in your house because you placed dragon ash by each window and door. It was the only thing which truly kept evil away and it is a regular present the dragon gives you.

You take a deep breather once you reach the mountain plateau in front of his cave. Marks of his dragon body landing dig deep into the grey gravel. Small autumn flowers grow in its deep crevices. The dragon placed a pot of flowers next to the cave entrance. You have to chuckle each time you pass it because of its peculiarity. It looks so out of place and yet fits his character so well.

“Yoongi!” you call out the dragon’s name, voice echoing in the big cave. You venture deeper into the cave, leaving the cold autumn air behind. “Yoongi, are you home?”

His lair consisted of two caves. One big and deep and one smaller. The big cave was in the front, welcoming you with endless darkness as it dug deep into the mountain. It smelled ancient and wet in here and there was always a faint sound of water trickling somewhere. Yoongi can fly in it when he is in his true form and hide on the ceiling when he doesn’t want to be found. The smaller cave was where he lived however. You have to take a sharp turn to the right for it and walk through a corridor-like walkway. The ceiling shrinks in height until it was but six meters.

“Yoongi, are you in here?” you try again, entering his true lair. Your voice doesn’t echo anymore. Lantern and torches light up the walls, a fireplace warms the space, expensive rugs cover the stone ground and golden furniture fills the room. Gold, jewels and crystals are scattered all around the cave in heaps or stuffed into big treasure chests. It feels homely here and tonight it is empty.

“Where the heavens are you?” you murmur, looking around the lair. An especially golden cup calls your attention. You bend down to inspect it better, fluttering your lashes at your own distorted reflection. It brings a chuckle to your lips and you straighten up, “how silly I looked.”

You ghost your fingers over a set of earrings next. They sparkle like stars in the sky. They are so beautiful.

“Careful, they’re worth more than your entire village.”

“Oh heavens”, you startle, pulling your sword in instinct and whipping around quickly. The blade graces against your stalker’s throat without cutting them.

“Don’t strike me down just yet”, Yoongi says, lifting his hands.

“You scared me”, you say, touching his chin with the tip of your sharp sword.

The right corner of his lips curls into an amused smirk, revealing glimpses of his long fangs.

“I could tell”, he says blithely despite the sword against his throat.

You put pressure on his chin, forcing his head to tilt up and for his amused smirk to grow. His fiery eyes flicker, a deep growl rumbles in his chest. 

“I could have cut your head off”, you say. 

“And yet you didn’t.”

You flip the blade to its side, forcing him to gulp because of the sharpness against his skin.

“Careful now”, he rasps.

“Mhm”, you decide with a cock of your brow, pulling your sword back. You twirl it once then put it back into its sheath, features warming as you laugh.

His golden eyes soften and a smile curls his lips. He closes the distance, placing his big hands on your waist and bending down to kiss your lips. You rest your hands on his strong chest, getting on your tiptoes to reach him better. He breaks the kiss, rubbing his nose against yours gently. His breath smells fresh and feels warm.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“The cottage was too cold.”

He laughs, “this is the only reason?”

You snicker, dancing your hands to the nape of his strong neck to trace the scales. You shake your head, “no, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm very much so.”

He draws a giggle to your lips. He smiles, tasting it with a tender kiss. “Come here you”, he mumbles and deepens the kiss. He lifts you off the ground for it just enough that you didn’t have to stand on your tiptoes any longer. 

You break the kiss to talk, even if he disagrees with a low growl. His golden eyes gaze longingly at your lips.

“Where were you before I called for you?”

“Deep in the caves, digging for gold.”

“I see and were-”

He interrupts you in laughed words, “will you kiss me or do I have to steal it from you?”

“No. No, I will kiss you. I got the message”, you laugh, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Yoongi purrs deeply, holding you tighter against him as his lips fall into a passionate dance with yours.  

You met Yoongi in the year your brother died. You knew him long before that, but up until then, never talked to him. You simply watched from a distance as he lit the fire and then sat on his throne overlooking the dance. You also watched him refuse countless suitors and return to his cave alone once the festival ended. Other than that, you never engaged with him. You had always found him interesting, because dragons are gods after all and he looked so very beautiful in his human form. His hair was as black as soot, his eyes as golden as flames and his scales were an iridescent of black and gold. He didn’t possess sharp claws, which made his touch so very gentle and tender and his lips were soft and pouty which made his kiss so very addicting.

You talked to Yoongi in the year your brother died. You spent too many days to count in the dense forest in search for him and it happened that one day, you got lost. You tried and tried to find your way back, but couldn’t. Night replaced the day and you already saw yourself freezing to death when he came. At first you thought him to be a bear, but then he asked you if you were lost and you knew that you were saved. You told him about why you were in the forest and he offered you comfort in your painful times of grief. He allowed you to talk about your brother as he walked you back to the village, he even allowed you to cry and assured you that your tears were not “entirely silly”. Once he led you back to your cottage, he gave you a bag of dragon ash and told you to spread it on each window and door to keep the rest of your family safe and you thanked him with promises of praying to him in the worship hall tomorrow. Back then, you thought that you were blessed and lucky to have an interaction with him, but you never could have imagined that this one time interaction became a regular thing.

Ever since that day, he began waiting for you by the forest road, offering you companionship in your search for your brother and like this, your walks in the forest became a regular thing until one day, you took his hand and he took yours, never wanting to let go again.

The people in the village didn’t know about your relationship with Yoongi. It was your wish to keep it secret because you knew that they would ruin it. They would force you to marry him, to bear his children, to become their goddess. You didn’t want this life, you wanted to take care of your parents and help the people with your smithies, not be someone to worship.

Yoongi didn’t mind that you wanted to keep him a secret. He liked it. He had many treasures taken from him because they were precious to him and if it was revealed that you were the most precious treasure of all, it would kill you and him in the process. He cannot lose you, not ever. Not when he walked the earth alone for so long, not when his fiery heart finally had someone to burn for.

Yoongi was lonely before he met you. He had other dragons to talk to, but he enjoyed the company of only a very, very few. He also had lots of suitors, which could have made the nights easier, but Yoongi wasn’t one for meaningless fucking. Yoongi craved connection above all. He craved intimacy and trust and conversation. He craved someone to care for and someone to see him as another living being not as a god. You give him all of this and more, but Yoongi knows that even if you didn’t give him any of that, he would love you. He loves you without reason after all. He loves you simply because it was right.

You break the kiss for air, vision just a little blurry as you look at him. You are eye to eye when you are in his arms, hands running along his scaly neck and strong shoulders. A black tunic sits on his torso, allowing his higher body heat to reach your palms. Even in the iciest nights he will warm you. Sometimes in winter, when your parents were already sleeping and the village was quiet, Yoongi sneaks into your cottage through the window (which is always hilarious because he is very big in comparison to the small frame) so he could warm you as you fell asleep. He is always gone the next morning, only having left behind a fresh bag of dragon ash and a few gold coins you could spent in the big city on food.

“You are so warm”, you say, making his eyes smile.

“You are such a delight.”

Your eyes race between the other’s, you and he feel breathless. Your fingers run up to his slightly pointy ears, scratching him behind them.

Yoongi purrs, tilting his head back as his lids flutter. 

“If you touch me like this…”

“I know.”

It is a silent understanding between you and him. Yoongi sighs your name and pulls you into a kiss. His fangs clash with yours before he naturally fixes his roughness, kissing you oh so tenderly. Tenderly, but also incredibly hungry. You moan, fingers twisting his black locks and legs closing around his waist. He answers you in a guttural growl, fingers grasping you harder.

This is also why you walked the difficult path. Not only did you want to see him, you wanted his body and touch. You craved it like fire craves wood to burn.

Yoongi walks to his bed with you, laying you atop the big mattress. He climbs over you, caging you under his big, strong body. You open your legs willingly, hands slipping from his hair to grasp the sheets instead. 

The kiss breaks because he broke it. His hot breath graces your skin. He cradles your cheek, thumb caressing your temple.

“My treasure, I”, he begins, fingers dimpling your soft thigh possessively, “I need you. I need you so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

You nod your head vigorously, stomach fluttering in what was to come. 

“I need to hear it, please.”

“I will. I will have you”, you allow him, parting your legs. 

Yoongi moans your name and kisses you, pulling you up into a sitting position to take off your sword. Your fingers are busy with his shirt, undoing the knots and bows. You break apart for just a moment, taking off your clothes. You cannot bother to be dressed. 

A moment of calm after the undressing, used to stare at each other. You are both kneeling on the bed, facing each other. He is panting, growling deeply each time he exhales like a dragon ready to spit fire. The sound makes you wetter each time he does it. His torso is muscular and his scales hug his form as if he was wearing armour. They are mostly around his chest and upper back and fade out on his lower torso. His legs and crotch are free of scales, skin golden and sun-kissed and looking so human. You touch him, tracing the scales first before making your way down to his legs. 

He lets you, eyes mesmerised by the plumpness of your breasts and the curves of your bared body. He reaches out, sending his fingers on a walk along your landscape. 

“You are so beautiful”, he speaks softly, eyes gazing at the goosebumps his touch draws to the surface. 

“You are just as beautiful”, you tell him, caressing the silken skin of his stomach.

You reach his hips. His skin is so soft there and sensitive to scratches. You give him exactly that, making his cock twitch between his thighs. 

Yoongi’s cock wasn’t human and the first time you saw it in its full size, you understood why so many dragons ended up hurting their lovers. It was the cock of a dragon, made for dragon. If he was in his true form, you are actually unable to take it because of its enormous size. If he was in his human form, it shrunk with him, but it was still insanely big in comparison to human cocks. His cock curved slightly in the shape of an S. He wasn’t smooth as humans were, instead his length had an engorged tip with a textured shaft, which stimulated even your deepest spots. When he released inside you, his base swelled up, keeping his cock lodged inside you until your quivering walls had enough of drinking his nectar. 

You were scared at first and Yoongi, feeling just a little insecure that you couldn’t like his cock, told you that you could still escape if you so wished to do. The fear in his voice drew you closer to him back then and you assured him that you could make it work because you wanted nobody else to fill you than him. He took your virginity that night and for not one second, you felt pain or discomfort, lying in his arms afterwards while his fingertips drew shapes of adoration on your skin and he whispered how much he adored you.

The memories of countless shared nights draw you closer to him and your hand to his cock, tracing his textured shaft. Despite his many pumps and crevices, his skin was soft to the touch. He was hotter than humans and it made his length feel incredible inside. It is best described as a feeling of burning from the inside in the most pleasurable of ways and once he releases inside, oh, once his hot cream fills your belly to the point of bloating, the heat is so intense that you often end up screaming in ecstasy. 

You close your fingers around his base tightly and drag them up to his tip. The pressure is enough to squeeze droplets of precum out of his slit, eliciting a deep growl from him. 

He frowns, exhaling a hot swirl of breath on your face. It wasn’t painful, simply insanely arousing. His fingers dimple your hips as he grabs you. You wobble slightly from the intense touch, hand trembling around his large cockhead.

“You are playing with fire”, he lulls, eyelids heavy in pleasure.

“I like it hot”, you taunt, twisting your fist around his tip. 

“You drive me insane”, he gets out and slaps your hand away for the sole purpose of pushing you into the sheets. He pins your hands above your head. “One day it will end in your punishment.” 

You moan, writhing under him. You wouldn’t mind being punished if it meant that you could feel his touch.

“Stay like this.” 

You whimper, nodding your head in obedience. 

“I will be gentle, I promise.” 

He lowers his lips to your neck, kissing a path down to your heat. He is hasty in his kisses, letting his impatience shine through this way. Dragons, so he told you, are a greedy people. Once they lust for something - or in his case, someone - they would do anything to claim it as quickly as possible. Stuff like taking it slow and preparing you are foreign to his people, but he does it for you. He is so good in being patient, but sometimes his greed shines through. Tonight for example when he kisses a greedy and hasty path down your body just so he could be between your legs faster. 

He places one kiss on each of your inner thighs, strong fingers gripping your flesh afterwards to pull your legs apart. His fiery eyes race over your exposed cunt, flickering hungrily.  

“You are so wet already”, he rasps. 

“I wanted you all week.” 

“I wanted you more, you have no idea.” 

Patience finally leaves him and he claims what he lusts for most, drawing a yelp of pleasure from you. You arch your back, legs shaking in his hold and fingers grasping his thick hair as he feasts on your cunt sloppily. 

Yoongi pleases you with his mouth for two reasons, he told you. The first reason is his insatiable hunger and greed. You are sweeter than anything he could ever taste and your cunt’s nectar makes his head blurry in pleasure. The second reason is the more important one. It is to make you ready for his dragonic cock. The spit of a dragon is relaxing to a human, it contains elements which not only heighten the sensitivity of their nerve endings, but which also relaxes the muscles so their holes could take a dragon’s cock easily. Yoongi confessed to you back then that the reason why so many dragons hurt their human lovers is because they don’t take time to properly relax them. They let their lust and greed control them and as a result hurt their humans.

Yoongi would never. Yoongi takes his time with you. He licks every inch of your dripping heat, buries his long tongue deep in your walls and pumps it into you until your tightened walls loosened up and you are gaping for his cock. He licks you to orgasm whenever he prepares you and you always shake in his grip, forcing his greed to grow to unbearable levels. Yoongi loves your orgasms as much as he loves gold. 

Tonight is no different, Yoongi draws an overwhelming orgasm out of you. You scream, legs trying to close on his head and weakened body helplessly shaking on the sheets. Yoongi growls into you, pushing his fingers deep into your loose cunt so he could feel your walls tremble. 

He keeps them inside you after your high ebbed down, curling them greedily while his soiled lips kiss up your body. He grabs your wrists and holds them together, big body draped over yours and fingers rubbing your sensitive insides. 

“You’re sweating”, he rasps, gazing at you obsessively.

“Please fuck me, please”, you beg, voice so close to a sob. His fingers aren’t enough. “I need your cock, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I will be gentle, I promise”, he says, slipping his fingers from your cunt to jerk his own cock. He guides it to your gaping cunt, rubbing it through your folds. “You are so beautiful, my treasure”, he breathes, giving you all his adoration by pushing into you. 

You gasp, tensing up under him at the feeling of his engorged tip pushing past your entrance.

“Are you hurting?” he asks, moving as slowly as possible. 

You shake your head, gazing up at him droopily. 

“Tell me if it does. You are doing so well, my treasure”, he whispers, fingers rubbing your swollen clit to make the breach easier. 

“It feels so good…” 

You can feel his large tip as it digs deeper and deeper, but what truly feels like heaven are the many pumps and crevices filling you. Your entrance is on pleasurable fire, feeling every texture inch by inch. His saliva made your walls sensitive to the very end, forcing you to feel his textured cock even deep inside. He curves so perfectly that his large tip presses against you deepest pleasure spot, forcing your belly to bulge just a little because he was so, so big. 

“I’m in. Does it hurt?” he asks, keeping still for your sake. His greed tells him to take you rough. It takes everything inside him not to give into his animalistic side. 

You spill tears. 

“No. No, I’m sorry I-” he panics, but gets stopped when you rip your hands free from his grasp to cradle his face instead.

“I love you, Yoongi.” 

He shudders, melting into your hands.

“I love you too”, he gets out and twists the pillow above your head as he begins pumping his cock into you. “Does this please you?”

“A-ah”, you let out, trembling in reaction. 

“Is it too much?”

“No, please…don’t stop”, you croak, rolling your eyes back as you fall into the pleasurable fire. Your lips part, making way for the endless noises of bliss he draws out of you. It feels so good. He feels so good.

“You are so beautiful. Oh, I need you. I want you. I crave you, argh”, he growls, twisting the pillow rougher as his greedy hips pick up speed. Your moans drive him wild, the view of your glowing face has the same effect on him than the view of fresh gold does. He feels high, head pounding as he feeds his insatiable lust with each heavy, deep thrust. 

Your body is so small under him, looking so fragile and breakable and yet you take him so easily. Yoongi rips the pillow, grinding his fangs as he growls. He buries his cock deeper in your gaping walls, forcing your back to arch off the mattress and for your voice to rise in pitch. He lets his tail grow just so he could wrap it around your waist and hold you in this position while he rubbed your pulsating clit and fucked your soft cunt. 

“You’re mine. My treasure, my everything, my beloved”, he chants, deep voice contorted in pleasure.

He is still in disbelief that you can take him so easily. So small, so fragile, so soft and yet you can house him entirely. The first time he laid with you, Yoongi barely went past his first two inches, moving carefully and slowly just so he wouldn’t hurt you. He would have been fine if that was all that you could ever take, but you proved him so wrong. He can be free with you. You can fully take him and it makes you moan so blissfully that Yoongi feels high just from the sound of it.

He is so blessed to have you. His treasure, his beloved, his everything. His tail tightens around your waist possessively, angling your hips so he could go so much deeper. 

You wail his name, fingers gripping his strong arms and legs dropping as they stop working. Only his tail holds you up right now while you shake under him.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you wail, moaning loudly afterwards.

“I need you, I fucking need you”, he spits, cursing because you anger him in pure lust, “I’m going to fill you with my seed until you’re bursting. I will paint your walls golden, you will be mine. Mine forever, urgh.” 

“Please! Please make me yours, please!” 

Yoongi lets out a dragonic growl, ripping the pillow apart and throwing his head back as your pleas break him. His big balls empty themselves in your trembling heat, giving you so much pleasure that you orgasm again with screams of his name. There is so much of his seed and it doesn’t want to stop, filling you up past your limits so it squirts out of you with each angry thrust. And Yoongi keeps going until his base swells and he genuinely cannot move his cock anymore. 

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, huffing and puffing demonically. His cock is still releasing into you, making you sob because the pressure of his engorged base and swollen tip against your overly sensitive walls makes you orgasm again. 

“Yoongi, I can’t do this. I can’t, it feels too good”, you plead, walls clenching around his swollen cock as they drink his golden seed greedily. 

“I know, my treasure, I know”, he soothes you, “I can’t stop. I’m so greedy, I can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this, Yoongi. Yoongi please”, you beg, barely able to breathe. While dragon’s spit relaxes, their seed gives a human a rush of pleasure. The first time it happened, you cried because it was so overwhelming. You still need to cry often whenever he breeds you and tonight all that holds you back is the loving embrace of his tail around your waist. It feels so good but also like too much because you cannot stop orgasming.

“Not again, ah please Yoongi!!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s almost over, I promise. Please hold onto me, it’s almost over”, he soothes you, massaging your engorged clit to make it easier to bear. 

Your stomach is so bloated from his seed, you are sweating so much. He can feel one more load building up. 

“I need you to breathe for me. One last time, I promise”, he lulls and rolls his hips into you. 

You writhe and scream, scratching down his neck with all your might. You don’t draw blood because his scales protect him, but he still feels it as a pleasurable tingle. 

Yoongi lifts his head to look at you. It lasts one second because then his eyes roll back as the view of your ruined, drugged body sets him off. 

“I love you”, he wails, bursting into you one last time. He makes you orgasm with him, walls tightening to the point of milking him dry. 

This is what you both needed. To be so connected. 

He drops his head back into your neck, fingers slipping from the ruined pillow to pet your head instead.

“My treasure, oh my treasure, my golden beloved”, he croaks, kissing you gently, “I’m sorry for being so greedy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. I’m so happy”, you get out, body laying limp and ruined under him. His swollen cock is still inside you, keeping every droplet of his golden seed in you. It warms you so much, makes you feel so good.

“You are? You’re happy?” he asks.

“So happy.” You hug him with your weak arms, barely able to close them around his broad back. “I’m yours.”

He whimpers, seeking your closeness by hugging you against his chest with his strong arm and his tail. 

“Oh my most loved treasure.” He kisses a slow path up to your face, cradling your cheek with his unoccupied hand. “Will you stay the night? I promise to fly you down to the village by morning.” 

“Yes, I’d like to stay. I couldn’t possibly walk tonight. Not after how you ruined me.”

A shy giggle slips from his lips. You open your eyes, meeting his giddy gaze. His cheeks are flushed, his dark hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. The view of him makes his cock feel so much better inside you. You are his. So entirely and willingly his. 

“I couldn’t help it. I missed you so much and, and you are so tempting. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt so good. You still do”, you say, clenching around his swollen cock. He shudders slightly, drawing closer to you.

“I promise my cock will soften soon, you just feel so good. I’m trying, but he wants to bask in you longer, I’m sorry.” 

“I hope he doesn’t soften soon. I don’t want this to end.” 

He blushes, but needs to seek more reassurance still.

“Please forgive me for the way I acted when I bred you. I acted like a greedy animal.” 

“Mhm, you did. Because you are a greedy animal. My greedy dragon, mine”, you say caressing his soft cheek.

He leans into your touch, eyes lowering in adoration. You giggle, scrunching your nose cutely. He smiles, brushing some messy strands of hair out of your forehead. 

“I love you, my little human.”

“And I love you, my strong dragon.”

[scorpihoe1111]

Astrology Observations-Part 2🌙

Having both Taurus and Aries placements in a chart can indicate someone who enjoys pressuring/embarrassing people when underdeveloped. These people can be actual bullies towards others when they’re at their worst.

Gemini rising’s/Mercury in the 1H look younger than they actually are.

Scorpio rising women are sometimes shorter than average while Scorpio rising men are taller than average.

8H moon’s can have dreams about scenarios that end up happening IRL.

Capricorn Rising’s usually have a skinny/bony appearance.

Whatever sign and house Saturn is in your chart can tell you what other people’s karma is for messing with you. Ex: Taurus Saturn in 7H? Taurus is a Venusian sign so it rules over beauty/appearance as well as luxury and money and the 7H signifies relationships, partnerships and marriage etc. Their karma may be their physical appearance looking uglier, plus going broke as well as their relationships/love life going downhill.

People with Scorpio in the 6H may prone to UTI’s/yeast infections or very heavy and painful monthly periods.

Cancer Rising’s may attract a lot of jealousy because of how intelligent they are (Gemini 12H)

Aries Rising men are usually buff and naturally muscular in appearance.

Aquarius in the 11H can attract multiple friend groups from all walks of life way more easily than the average person.

Pisces Moon/Venus are a lot more skilled in manifesting the things they want than they think they are.

Venus/Libra in the 12H can signify a lot more people than you think having a crush on you/being attracted to you. Your secret admirers just keep it to themselves because they assume you already know and don’t wanna boost your ego.

Leo, Libra, Scorpio and Capricorn rising women consistently attract men who neg them as a way of trying to get them to notice them.

Sagittarius placements (esp mercury) are blunt and rude in their speech but they don’t mean any harm by it, they just say whatever they’re thinking.

Virgo placements on the other hand are also blunt, but they over analyze every encounter and conversation they have so they usually know what’s rude to say and what’s not. So if a Virgo’s saying shady things towards you, they mean it.

Libra Venus’ can not remain in a relationship if there isn’t constant flirting. It’s also important not to let yourself go if you’re in a relationship with them because they are visual asf.

12H sun’s rarely get acknowledgment for the good they do but get a lot of attention for the mistakes they make.

12H suns can also be kind of gullible and naive growing up.

Mercury in the 2H usually don’t like to talk about things that aren’t factual or don’t benefit them in some way.

Mars in the 12H can be prone to high blood pressure due to internalizing their anger most of the time.

Venus in the 1H are very attractive, even if not conventionally handsome/pretty there’s something very aesthetically pleasing about their facial features and their overall vibe.

Venus in 1H can also do no wrong in the eyes of the public. Basically pretty privilege.

Same goes for Pisces Risings ⬆️ they usually get away with a lot due to their innocent demeanor.

Your moon sign is usually a prominent sign in your mother’s chart.

Saturn in the 8H might not lose their virginity until later in life, or at least not as soon as their peers.

Your rising sign can tell you what everyone was feeling or what was going on during the time of your birth.

Leo women have this tendency of leaving or cheating on men who are good to them for guys who are terrible people. (Not all Leo women of course, but I’ve seen soooo many Leo girls do this)

Pisces men are very, very confusing. The type of person to be married for years with kids and still try to keep up with what you got going on in your life.

Cancer in the 12H usually have issues with women/mother in their life.

Aries Venus prefer the chase more than the actual relationship.

Scorpio/8H placements have an inherent fear of their spouse/loved ones dying.

Pisces mars are freakier in bed than most people think.

Moon sextile Neptune manifest through their dreams a lot.

Sun in the 5H is someone who doesn’t take life too seriously and prefers fun over responsibility a lot of the time.

Mars in Scorpio are more revengeful and unforgiving than any other Scorpio placement honestly. These people can get revenge and still not be happy.

Mars in Sagittarius usually have lots of flings and hookups throughout their life.

TW!: Some underdeveloped Virgo men have a weird tendency to actually want to harm women mentally and emotionally. They’re not the type to just break up with a partner and move on, they usually want to make the breakup as fucked up as possible so the thought of them remains in the persons mind forever. I’ve met over 6 Virgo men who’s admitted to this before and the girl didn’t even do anything wrong in the relationship, they just didn’t wanna be with her anymore but didn’t want her to forget them.

Capricorn women usually have very long, flowing luscious hair.

Part 3 coming soon 🌪️

[plathfiles]

Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective

gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n

————————————————————————

It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.

Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.

Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.

He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.

A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.

“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.

“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.

You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’

“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.

Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.

You let it be, too stunned to speak.

Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.

“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.

“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.

But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.

Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.

“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.

You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.

Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.

You saw now that no one was there.

Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.

You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.

Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.

“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.

You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”

The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.

Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.

You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.

Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.

Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.

“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.

“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.

Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.

Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.

“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.

Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Lick Back by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Cheating, Unprotected Sex, Illicit Extramarital Affair, Adultery, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond is stationed at the Camp Pendleton Marine Corps Base where he teaches incoming soldiers close quarters combat techniques as a MCMAP instructor. While hanging with rowdy fresh blood recruits at a bar, he meets Nova, the new wife of a fellow soldier who recently moved to Oceanside from South Carolina. Nova and her husband Jordan seem close at first, but Terry knows that Jordan cheats on her every chance he gets with secret weekend trysts. When Nova becomes pregnant and struggles to keep her marriage together, Terry steps in to cheer her up from Jordan's indifference. But he unintentionally embarks upon an illicit affair with Nova that turns his life upside down.

Word count: 18.2K

"In this world, concrete flowers grow

Heartache, she only doin' what she know

Weekends, get it poppin' on the low

Better days comin' for sure"

Kendrick Lamar & Sza – "Luther"

Terry never planned on having an affair.

Like the cliché excuse used the world over, it just…happened.

He'd been drinking and playing pool with his marine buddies Kevin and Von when Jordan Patterson stumbled into their favorite off-base dive bar with a group of rambunctious grunts that disturbed the peace of other patrons.

"Hey, Patterson…pipe down," Terry called out.

Jordan raised a hand to wave at Terry before his jarhead crew stopped at the bar to order drinks. Their loud laughter and conversation sounded celebratory.

"Cut him some slack, T. The man just got married," Kevin said.

"Patterson? Married? To who?" Terry asked.

He noticed several women near the bar rolling their eyes at Jordan and his party. Sticking his thumb and index finger in his mouth, Terry whistled and gestured for the rowdy group to join his side of the bar where he could preserve the peace.

"Hey! Sergeant Richmond! You're back!" Jordan said.

"Yep. My leave ends in two days."

"How was Louisiana?" Jordan asked.

"Same as I left it."

"Family good?"

"Yep."

Jordan had a gregarious personality that came off bigger than life. He was about four inches shorter than Terry, with a chiseled, penny-brown face that turned heads wherever he went. A natural lady-killer. Terry liked him well enough as a soldier, but away from work, he wasn't much for running around in the streets like the younger Lance Corporal was. He gave dap to Jordan and the others, and the quiet calm he exuded filtered down to the others. Terry bought a round of drinks for the newlywed and his friends. They settled into a good time quickly.

An attractive entourage of women walked in and joined their group. Most were girlfriends or wives of the men he hung with. That's when Terry first noticed Nova. She was taller than a few of the other women who were Filipino and Black. One Mexican woman mixed into their group pointed toward them in the back, and Nova caught his eye. She looked unsure of the surroundings and he could smell the country aura she exuded. A loose ponytail held back her black hair, and she wore a cute orange jumper that showed off slender legs. She was light brown like him, but the type of brown that would get darker in the California sunshine given time. Terry sipped his glass of whiskey and concentrated on the pool game he played with Von.

"Sarge…sarge…lemme introduce you to my wife…Nova. Nova…this is the baddest MCMAP instructor on base…Terry Richmond."

Nova's warm brown eyes twinkled. He held out a hand to shake. She took it.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Patterson?"

Nova giggled.

"That still sounds so strange to hear," she said. "Pleased to meet you Terry."

Her southcack accent sounded like warm honey molasses on thick buttered toast, and for a second, he couldn't believe Jordan's wild ass could pull a sweet country girl clear across the nation. Terry glanced at Jordan, but the younger man already had his eye on some other beauty playing pool at another table. The youngin always had a wandering eye, but Terry figured he'd shut that shit down with a wife present.

"You coming to the spot tomorrow? We're throwing a barbecue to celebrate me and Nova," Jordan said.

"I'll be there," Terry said. He looked at Nova again. "Enjoy your time here."

Von missed a shot, and Terry returned to his game, soon forgetting about Nova.

The bar had a small area where a live band played, and the music was a mix of millennial R&B and pop hits. Terry left tip money on a nearby table for his server and headed for the door. He glimpsed Jordan dancing with Nova, and they appeared happy. In love. He wished them well in his heart and went home.

Little did he know that their brief encounter would morph into something bigger than he could've imagined.

Terry wasn't hurting for companionship. Six-foot-three, fit, good looking, and single, he enjoyed a wide variety of women from Long Beach to San Diego. Living in Oceanside long enough had him looking away from the small seaside town for women. Military life attracted a certain kind of woman he wasn't interested in near the base. He was pleasantly surprised that Nova was nothing like the husband-hungry women his military buddies dealt with. For one, she was a university graduate. He found that out on the weekly flag football game he played at a park with the guys and their partners.

Playing flag football with men and women was something he and Von started seven years ago to create a tight bond of friends, especially for the younger men coming into the fold. It soon became a casual mentorship that fostered goodwill and was a lot of fun. It also helped the women find friends to help deal with homesickness for those who were far away from home for the first time. They became a support system when the men were called to do their tour of duty.

The crew played before eating, and Terry covered quarterback duty for Team A. He brought his friend Angie, who everyone thought he was fucking, to hang out and play. She was his beard to keep the other women from setting him up with their female friends who were desperate for a marine to marry. Angie was gay and always played her part well, plus she was a skilled football player.

Nova played with Jordan on Team B, facing a man twice her size. The sun beat down on them, and the odor of grilled ribs and brown sugar barbecue sauce flared his nostrils at the start of the game. Von and his wife Bethany started cooking early before everyone else arrived so that the food would be ready after the first quick game. Kevin played the role as ref and blew the whistle to start the game after Terry took a long huddle to explain to a new soldier's girlfriend her position. Her name was Cath, a white-looking mixed Filipina who seemed more interested in looking cute rather than actually playing. She kept batting her lashes at Terry and fiddling with her stringy dyed hair the color of a bleeding sunset.

"Let's go Team A, we ain't got all day!" Kevin called out.

Terry clapped his hands, and his teammates spread out. Angie hiked the ball to him, and Terry took a step back, cradling the football in his hand, ready to spring his powerful arm forward. His two wide-receivers, a man and woman, jetted down the grassy field and—

Nova snatched his blue flag from around his waist in less than six seconds.

Terry stared at her with an incredulous expression as Jordan danced around and talked mad shit. Nova grinned and twirled his flag belt in her hand. Terry glared at Conner, who was supposed to block her.

"Aye, she's fast, man," Conner said. "I pushed her back, but she got around me."

Team A huddled again. Terry glanced at Nova. An impish smirk creased her pretty lips. Angie hiked the ball, and Nova gunned it for him, blowing past Connor's bulky frame like he was a toddler. Terry ran and threw the ball fast. In fact, Nova kept him running and switching up his plays. When Team B finally had their chance to move the ball around, Terry and the others witnessed Nova's athleticism. Her lean build and speed were amazing. They switched up the teams after eating, and Terry took a break to watch and drink beer from the sidelines. He thought it was cute the way Jordan slapped his wife's butt each time she made a huge play. They were lovey-dovey and Terry hoped she would curb his explosive temper that he sometimes brought to the games. Jordan could be hard on new guys hanging out to play with them, and the addition of alcohol with testosterone didn't help.

Nova skipped playing the last game of the day and sat near Von's wife and Angie, chatting. Other women joined them as the guys stood or sat around arguing about their fantasy football picks or why Bronny James should ride his nepo ass on the Laker team bus. Terry ate another rib and licked his fingers, listening to the clash of several conversations. Jordan pulled a folding chair next to his wife and threaded his fingers with hers.

"Tired of them niggas arguing about the same shit every weekend," Jordan said.

"What do you think of California?" Angie asked Nova.

Jordan kissed her hand, and Nova fixed her eyes on Angie.

"It's different. A little faster than what I'm used to."

"You'll get used to it, baby," Jordan said.

The football landed in his lap. Kevin jogged over.

"You wanna play a quick game? These cholos nearby want to play," Kevin said.

Jordan glanced at Terry.

"You in man?" Jordan asked.

"I'm good."

Jordan bounced up from his seat and darted out to the field.

"He is so happy," Bethany said.

Nova gave a winsome smile while staring at her husband.

"We both are."

"How long were you dating before getting married?" Angie asked.

"Oh, Jordy's been my childhood sweetheart since I was thirteen."

"Really? Oh gosh, that's so cute," Bethany said.

Bethany gave a look to Terry. They both knew Jordan had been seeing other women while stationed there.

"We'd been on and off since high school. I went to the University of South Carolina in Columbia and got my degree in communications. I have to wait a year to get residency here, and then I'm going to apply to SDSU and get my masters in communications."

"What do you want to do?"

"News broadcasting. I'm starting an internship at KGTV next month. That means a lot of commuting to San Diego."

"It's not bad, thirty to forty minutes," Angie said.

"Jordy proposed to me last year when he came home to visit. I told him I wasn't getting married until I had my degree in my hand first."

"I know that's right," Bethany said, tossing back her Senegalese twists. "Von and I were married ten years ago. Two kids later and I'm still wishing I finished my education. I'm thinking about doing some online classes next year."

"Do it!" Angie said, patting Bethany's leg.

Nova sighed and watched Jordan play football.

Terry discreetly studied her and wondered if she knew her husband cheated on her all the time while she was in South Carolina. He couldn't let go of the disappointment he felt in Jordan who'd been his pet project for three years because the big brass felt he had the potential to be an outstanding soldier, but needed a personal hand to keep him in line. Terry took on that responsibility and kept the man under his wing. Jordan's biggest problem was his immaturity. At twenty-five, he was only two years younger than Terry, but their maturity levels were worlds apart. Nova seemed like a smart woman and had to know her man wasn't up to her level. He didn't want to assume anything because men often acted differently around their women sometimes. Terry just hated seeing good Black women choosing lames.

She caught him looking at her.

"You play football well," he blurted.

"Jordy and I played all the time back home. Our families are close and full of boys, so I got in to fit in. I ran track too, so that helps."

"Yeah, it does, cuz you did not let me rest out there."

They all laughed.

She kept him laughing. The others, too. Nova fit the group perfectly. She was funny and encouraging and smitten with Jordan.

While packing up, Bethany cornered Terry near his truck.

"Did you know Jordan was engaged all this time?"

"No."

"That man was at my house last month with some random woman. I feel so icky talking with his wife knowing he's been unfaithful with other women."

"Maybe they had an understanding while they were long distance."

"Stop making excuses for him, Terry. You know that's some janky ass shit to bring a wife around us out of the blue. No Black woman from here to Timbuktu is going to accept that."

"That's why we're all going to mind our business."

Bethany moved closer to him, her hard light brown eyes almost glowing in her dark brown face. She lifted an accusatory finger at him and wagged it.

"You need to have a talk with him, or else I will. You're his leader that he respects and listens to. Von would just curse him out and make things worse. Nova is a beautiful woman who deserves respect. We're lucky he brought none of those other women to our football games. Suppose one of those birds popped up today?"

"Alright…alright…I'll check in with Jordan, but I won't lecture him."

"Good. Let him know I'm watching out for Nova."

Von wandered over, carrying leftover bags of supplies.

"What are you fussing about over here?" Von asked.

"Jordan," Bethany said.

Von grit his teeth comically.

"You didn't say anything to Nova, did you?" Von asked.

"I'm not hurting a woman I just met on the first day. Terry's going to talk to him."

"Babe, we gotta stay outta other grown folk's business."

"Jordan and the word 'grown' do not compute. The man runs around town like a horny teenager," Bethany complained.

"He's married to a good woman, and she's living here with him now. Let's all be cool and act like we don't know a damn thing."

"Terry…check that man or I'm pulling the pin and blowing his shit up," Bethany said, climbing into their mini-van.

Von and Bethany left him standing alone.

Jordan and Nova embraced each other near their car.

Maybe Jordan got his dick wetting season over with and would finally settle down.

Six months passed by, and Terry didn't feel the need to say anything to Jordan. The man fell into a marriage routine that convinced even Bethany that matrimony cured his loose dick. The couple invited everyone to their new military home for a housewarming party and, seeing them together, Terry had to admit there was some growth in Jordan's behavior. He was attentive to his wife, and didn't hang at the bars with the single men as much anymore. When he did pop out, he brought Nova with him, and they left early. No more bar crawls or skirt chasing. Domestic bliss. Kevin married his fiancé during a winter wedding, and Jordan gave a moving speech about how marriage changed a man for the better. Babies were born, and other men in his circle got engaged or settled into long-term relationships. The more he looked around, the more he felt like the lone bachelor clinging to singledom.

Terry didn't want to think about a wife and kids until after he was out of the military. He had a good gig going with MCMAP. A decent wage. The respect of his peers. The freedom to come and go as he pleased with no strings. Pussy was easy to come by, and no woman was special enough to entice him into monogamy.

His schedule grew hectic as the military geared up for a new deployment. He never had to go anywhere because the Marines recognized his value in training. An elite soldier in his rank, the higher ups wanted Terry to mold thousands more just like him during his stint. He went in hard on his charges, building up the best trained soldiers he could.

Nova adjusted to California life. She and Jordan had to share the use of one car to save money for her future schooling. She'd drop Jordan off to work and make the drive to San Diego for her internship. After a month, he heard from Bethany that Nova quit the internship because it became too stressful to meet the requirements with Jordan's schedule. They couldn't afford another car at the moment because the cost of military housing had gone up.

Nova ended up taking a part-time job at a public library as she waited for her residency to kick in for school. She'd gained weight and Jordan didn't seem too happy about it. Terry thought she looked good, filling out more from living a slower lifestyle than when she was running around on a university campus. At the flag football games, they bickered a lot, and Nova stopped playing altogether, sometimes not even showing up at the park. Bethany gave Terry a look at the absence, and he finally pulled Jordan aside.

"Hey man…what's going on with you? Everything cool at home?" Terry asked nonchalantly on a park bench.

"Aw man…y'know, life is lifing. Things aren't going the way we planned…or rather, the way she planned."

"What's up with Nova?"

Jordan glanced at the grass on the ground and picked at a scratch on his knee that he injured earlier that day from falling. Terry had to pull him away from another player before a fight broke out. A dude named Marcus had simply tripped over his feet and fell into Jordan, but Jordan flipped out about it, shoving Marcus in the chest.

"Man…this marriage shit is for the birds."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Sarge."

"That's what I'm here for, Jordan."

He gave an exasperated sigh.

"I love Nova…I really do…but lately…she's been getting on my nerves."

"How?"

"Always asking me about shit that ain't really important right now. She wants another car for school, and I told her she should postpone going to SDSU, at least until I make a higher paygrade. She got a job to pay for a new car herself. Her library gig is within walking distance, so she doesn't need to have my car during the day. I need to use it more than her."

"For what? She drops you off and picks you up every day."

"Sometimes I wanna go to the bar with the fellas after work to chill."

"Then ride with them and hitch a ride home with 'em too…or catch an Uber or a Lyft."

"Man, I ain't doing all that."

"You expect her to do that, then?"

"She don't need the car every day," Jordan grumbled. "Walking will do her good, anyway. All she's doing is getting fat."

"That's how you talk about your wife?"

Jordan sucked his teeth.

"Her ass used to be fine as hell when she first got here."

"She's still fine."

Jordan glared at him.

"You lookin' at my wife funny?"

"No, what I'm saying is, Nova is still a beautiful woman. She's a lil thicker and in case you haven't noticed, no one else is complaining when she rides on base dropping your ass off early in the morning."

"I'ma get her a gym membership on base and whip that ass back into shape."

"You foul man."

"Not trying to have a sloppy booty wife."

Terry's jaw tightened. He thought Nova looked even better with the weight gain. She started wearing large T-shirts and sweatpants more, but he and the other guys on base appreciated the extra jiggles when she walked by. His daddy always told him a well-loved woman put on weight the first few years of marriage. That's how a man knew he was taking care of his wife.

Jordan looked off into the distance and Terry turned his head to see what he was checking out. One guy had brought an extra female friend to play football, a lithe Black woman from L.A. who modeled for department store flyers.

"Jordan, I hope you're staying true to your vows with Nova and not stepping out on her."

Jordan's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"You heard me. We all know you were fucking around before you brought her out here. None of us knew you had a fiancé, and you brought her back like a prized jewel. Now you're acting like you want to trade her in for some outhouse pussy cuz she put on a few pounds. You shouldn't have gotten married if you're acting like this."

"Jumping to conclusions and shit—"

"Nigga, I know you. Seen with my own eyes how you move. Is that why you want the car for yourself? To sneak around on Nova?"

Jordan wouldn't look Terry in the eye.

"You really are a piece of work. Here I am thinking you finally became a real man," Terry huffed.

He stood and narrowed his eyes at Jordan.

"Get your shit together. Stop trash talking your wife and take your ass home. Buy her some flowers and candy. Spoil her for even choosing your ungrateful ass."

"Whatever, man. You wouldn't understand… you ain't never been with anybody long-term."

"Because I have the maturity to know I'm not ready to settle down. Do better. Respect your wife. Don't let me catch wind of you fucking around on her."

"You her daddy or something?"

Terry held his tongue.

Shit hit the fan on a fourth of July cookout at Nova and Jordan's house.

Terry arrived, bringing ice and his homemade salmon croquettes. He mingled with the joyous gathering of co-workers and friends. Nova played the cheerful hostess, wearing a red, white, and blue summer dress that accentuated her new curves. Her face looked rounder, and she kept tugging on the back of her dress.

"This thing keeps riding up," Nova joked with Bethany.

"Welcome to the world of big booty life," Bethany said, patting her own high shelf donk.

Terry played d.j. with the music, synching his phone with the sound system. He put together a Black Barbecue playlist and let Frankie Beverly and Maze remind people of their childhoods. Bethany shouted and raised her hands when Roy Ayer's "Everybody Loves the Sunshine" popped on and the music fit the vibe of Black folks getting brown in the sunshine of the Patterson's backyard cookout.

Kevin handed Terry a glass of beer from the keg someone brought for the occasion. He gulped it down to cool off and watched the ecstatic faces around him. Life was good.

Terry's friend Raymond arrived with a bunch of people bearing drinks and lemon meringue pies. Jordan and Nova stood near him and greeted the new guests. Terry noticed Jordan's shifty eyes as he tried to ignore Lourdes, a Mexican chick known to Terry's crew as a pass around good time.

"I remember you," Lourdes purred, rubbing her hand up Jordan's arm.

Jordan grinned and nervously threw an arm around Nova's waist.

"Hey, good seeing you at another cookout…this is my wife, Nova," Jordan said.

"Hi," Nova said.

"Wife?" Lourdes squeaked.

Nova's lips pressed tightly together and Lourdes fluttered her eyes back to Jordan.

"Haven't seen you at Ringer's for a minute. Thought you got deployed," Lourdes said.

Nova glared at Jordan and stomped away.

Terry switched the music to upbeat, loud fun, and a few people started dancing. Jordan went after Nova. Lourdes grabbed a glass of beer from Raymond and flitted among the men, ignoring the other women completely.

Terry heard shouting from in the house and he followed behind Bethany and Von to check it out. Inside the kitchen, Nova screamed at Jordan, who only leaned against the kitchen island with a grim expression.

"Nova…Jordan? Everything okay in here?" Bethany asked.

Nova's wet face and agitated state told the complete story. Terry looked at Jordan.

"He's a liar…and a cheat. His hoe is walking around my home!" Nova screamed.

Jordan lowered his head. Terry was glad the man had an ounce of shame in him.

"I told you that bitch was from a long time ago. You're making a big deal about a past relationship," Jordan said.

"Past relationship? Jordan, we've been together forever! You promised that you were done disrespecting me. I should've listened to my friends and never come out here!"

Nova grabbed a glass from the dish rack near the sink and threw it at Jordan. It clipped him in the head.

"Nova…fuck!" he screeched.

Jordan lunged forward to stop her from throwing a dish, but Terry stepped between them, blocking him with his back.

"Okay, let's all calm down," Terry said.

Von put an arm around Jordan's shoulder and walked him out of the kitchen. Bethany stayed behind.

"I'll tell Raymond to get that woman out of here," Terry said.

Bethany nodded, and Nova burst into tears.

"Oh, sweetie…let the men handle this," Bethany said, hugging Nova.

Terry sought Von and Jordan.

Lourdes and Raymond left in a hurry with their group, and everyone at the party gossiped in hushed tones as music continued blasting. On the side of the house, Von cursed out Jordan whose only response was, "I know…I know…I know…"

"Are you still fucking Lourdes?" Terry asked.

"That shit is old. Ain't my fault Raymond brought her over here. I didn't invite that woman."

"How old?" Terry asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"I dead that shit back in January."

"January? Nigga, you're married!" Von shouted.

"Keep your voice down," Jordan said.

Terry stuck a finger in his face.

"You betta not trip when she leaves your ass," Terry said.

"She ain't going nowhere."

"Why not?"

Jordan closed his eyes and rested his head against the side of his house.

"She's pregnant."

Von and Terry groaned and rolled their eyes.

"See, niggas like you is why Black women hate us now," Von barked.

"I'm gonna change…watch and see. I gotta man up now…I'ma be a father and my kid needs his father."

"If she were smart, she'd abort and go home," Von said.

"Von…yo…ease up, man," Terry said.

"Nah, T…Jordan doesn't want a wife…and he damn sure don't deserve no children with how he acts toward Nova. I wouldn't be surprised if Bethany is in there now telling her the same thing! I oughta kick your punk ass."

"Stand down, Washington," Terry said, using Von's surname in a tone used at work.

Von threw up his hands and walked away. Jordan pushed past Terry and entered a side door that went into the garage and back into the house. Terry followed.

Nova stood in the kitchen with Bethany. Terry nodded his head for Bethany to leave, and he posted up by the fridge to watch over Jordan.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Please…don't make that face. I know I'm always sorry about shit and I hurt you. Don't abort my baby."

Nova glanced at Terry. The pregnancy had been a secret, apparently.

"Get out of my face," Nova said.

"Nova—"

Terry put a hand on Jordan's shoulder.

"Give her some space, c'mon."

He led Jordan back to the party. Everyone else partied on, ignoring the messy marital discord. Jordan drank some beer and joined Kevin and Von in a corner with some married men. Terry sauntered over to the food table and made himself a plate. Bethany had smoke coming out of her ears, commiserating with other women.

The mood had soured within the hour, and folks gathered to-go plates and said their goodbyes. Terry made himself a plate of pork ribs and macaroni salad with a couple of hot links thrown on top for good measure. Kevin took Jordan to his house for the night with his wife, Vivian, to keep him away from Nova. They both needed to sleep apart and figure out their situation in the morning.

Terry held up a hand to everyone left behind and headed out. Two blocks down the street, the glare of the sunset struck his eyes. He reached for the top of his head and couldn't find his sunglasses. Pulling over, he searched the truck seat to see if they fell off. Then he remembered. He put them down on the patio table at Jordan's. If they had been cheap drugstore shades, he would've let it go. But they were three hundred dollar wrap-around Oakley's.

He made a U-turn and parked in the Patterson driveway. Sneaking toward the side of the house, he crept toward the high wooden gate that led to the yard. He wanted to run in and out of the backyard without disturbing Nova.

The gate was locked.

He walked back to the front and rang the doorbell.

Nova answered with pink eyes, still wearing her holiday dress.

"Hey…Nova…sorry to bother you, but I left my shades in your backyard. Can I go get them?"

"Sure," she said, stepping aside.

Terry moved through the living room and into the kitchen, pushing on the sliding glass doors. He found his shades perched on a speaker. He tucked them into the neck of his t-shirt and looked at the other speaker.

"I can move these back in the house for you," he offered.

Nova nodded. He didn't want her straining to carry them. It took him less than a minute to move them and the cords inside the living room. Jordan could set them back up when he returned home.

"All done. See ya next time," he said.

Nova nodded with her back to him, facing the kitchen sink. Her shoulders shook and Terry felt awkward being there while she cried.

"You'll be okay, right? Maybe call a friend over?" he suggested.

"What friends? Everyone is Jordan's friend."

"Bethany?"

She shook her head.

"I can't bother her. She has kids and stuff to do. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for bringing the speakers in."

"No problem…alright. I'm going to bounce."

Nova turned her head to the side.

"Everyone knew, didn't they? That he's been cheating on me this entire time?"

"Nova…uh…"

She glanced at him with glossy eyes and a crinkle in her forehead.

"You don't have to lie to me, too, Terry. I've always suspected, but couldn't prove it back home. He swore up and down that he's been faithful and only loved me. Jordan made me look like the biggest dumb fool today. How many other women have come through my house and fucked my husband while smiling in my face?"

"We thought he would change…we didn't even know about you until you arrived a year ago."

"Not one of you said anything."

Terry moved over to the sink and stood next to her.

"Look, a few of us talked about it. Bethany wanted to tell you from day one, but we…the fellas…we thought Jordan would shape up. It became a matter of us not wanting to hurt you."

She closed her eyes. A single tear ran down her face. He felt like shit.

"Bros before hoes," she said.

"It's fucked up, but…yeah, that's what it came down to. None of us wanted this for you."

"Well… I got it, anyway."

Her face crumpled. She covered her eyes with her right hand.

"He's not attracted to me anymore…I've gained all this weight…now I'm pregnant and can't trust anyone around me!"

Her cry of pain bruised his insides.

Terry stood paralyzed next to her, not wanting to be inappropriate, although he thought he was supposed to hug her or something. No comforting words came to mind that sounded good enough for her. He pulled out his cell phone and called Von.

"Yo…man…can you put Bethany on the phone? I'm at Jordan's place and Nova is having a hard time…Bethany? Hey, can I ask for a big favor? Could you come over to Nova's? Yeah…it's bad…okay. Okay. Thanks."

He swiped his phone and stuck it in his back pocket.

"Bethany is coming over right now—"

Nova pushed her face against his chest and wept. The top of her hair tickled his chin, and he held his arms out, not knowing where to place them. He finally hugged her, and she broke down more, her warm tears soaking his shirt.

"I'm sorry you're going through this, Nova…I really am."

He stroked her back as she poured her wounded soul into his broad chest.

"Shh…shh…it hurts bad now, but it'll pass…I promise…" he whispered to her.

She nodded and leaned back, wiping her face.

"You're too pretty to be scrunching up your face like you tasted some lemons," he teased.

Nova laughed and blinked away tears.

He became cognizant that he still held her close against him. She smelled like sugar cookies and all the weight Jordan complained about felt good in his arms.

"Your smile lights up a room, and if that fool can't appreciate it, someone else will," he said.

Nova gazed into his eyes. With her hair up in a bun, Terry could enjoy every part of her sweet face. They'd never been that close together, and he became self-conscious. He dropped his hands to his sides, but kept his eyes on hers. Nova stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for caring so much," she said.

Uncomfortable. That was the first feeling that ran through him. He shouldn't be there with her. Alone. Seconds ticked by and they both stood there, looking at one another. Her eyes focused on his lips and she kissed him on the mouth.

Like an idiot, he kissed her back, parting his lips so her tongue could probe his mouth and find the comfort she needed. She didn't hold back, circling his neck with her arms and pressing into him hard, wanting to feel his muscles against her heavenly frame. Terry tilted his head more and thrust his tongue further into her mouth. He swallowed the soft moan Nova released against his lips. He licked her bottom lip and kissed her fully until they both started moaning from the illicit encounter.

One nasty thought kicked around in his brain.

He could fuck her raw and cum all inside her. Since she was already pregnant, there'd be no need to have a condom barrier to prevent knocking her up. His breeding kink revved up, and he seriously thought about fucking Nova in her marital bed to teach Jordan a lesson. Fill her up with his cum…treat her the way she deserved to be treated by a real man who appreciated a woman no matter what her size was. Jordan was crazy to think a once slender Nova didn't compete with the thicker one in his arms. And she was about to get even bigger while pregnant?

His dick got hard.

Nova felt it poking against her.

"We gotta stop," he whispered into her mouth.

"Why? I should be allowed to get my lick back with someone better than my husband."

Terry pulled away, afraid of the consequences if Nova kept talking to him reckless like that.

His erection tented his pants. It was undeniable how much he wanted her. Nova licked her lips, staring at the thick bulge she could have. She boldly reached out and touched it…squeezed it to see how big it was. He moaned, and she ran her fingers up and down his length, teasing him until she reached the wide head that strained against his zipper. Pulling her fingers away, he had to take a stand or else they'd do something that couldn't be undone.

"Bethany will be here. I better go."

Terry swiftly parted from her and rushed to his truck. The irrational part of his mind wanted to lay some good pipe down on her. He wiped her lipstick off of his mouth once he sat in the driver's seat. His dick throbbed in his pants.

Nova was married. Calm the fuck down.

Yes, Jordan Patterson was a selfish knucklehead, but that didn't mean snatching up the man's wife because he dogged her out.

Terry started his car and drove away before Bethany showed up. He spent the next two days relaxing in his bachelor's quarters on base. At work, he ran into Jordan briefly, but it was in passing to teach one of his martial arts classes. Jordan looked sheepish and apologetic, and Terry just gave a nod and kept on moving.

He skipped two weeks of flag football, not wanting to hear gossip or run into Nova. No one questioned his non-socializing. He sometimes dropped out of sight when his workload increased to cover staff leave or new training.

A third week of avoiding his friends continued, and his phone rang with a number he didn't recognize. He answered without thinking.

"Hello?"

"Hi Terry. It's me…Nova."

"Nova…hey…I don't—"

"I'm sorry. If you're avoiding everyone because of me…you don't have to stay away from your friends. I kissed you and it was wrong. I made things weird for you."

Terry sighed.

"I don't want any problems, Nova. You and Jordan have to sort your relationship out without adding more trouble."

"I don't know why I did that, Terry. You were just being kind, and I liked how you made me feel…wanted. Seen. I'm two months pregnant and my hormones could be messing with me, too. I want to apologize and ask that you not hide anymore. It makes me feel awful, like I chased you away being inappropriate when I was feeling low."

"It's understandable…but I really have been busy. Don't stress out about anything. That night has been forgotten."

"Good."

"See you around," he said.

He hung up and deleted her number from his phone.

Hearing her voice did something to him. He called up Von and went to his house to have a beer and catch up. Bethany wasn't home, so the men could chat openly without her chiming in or judging.

"How's Jordan been doing with Nova?"

"Hard to say, really. They seem okay. But he's at the bar after work a lot. Kevin hung out with him a few times. Tried talking sense into him. Looks like they're going to work things out."

"Good for them."

"He's being deployed to the Indo-Pacific at the end of the year."

Terry exhaled with a loud breath.

"Damn, that sucks. He'll miss the birth."

"Yep. But distance has a way of making the heart grow fonder. That's what they say, right?"

"With Jordan, it seems to do the opposite."

"He wants Nova to go back to South Carolina while he's gone. She wants to stay here."

"She doesn't have a support system here, though."

"Bethany has adopted her as the little sister she always wanted. Nova is good people. We'll look after her."

Terry left Von and took a drive up the coast to see a friend in Long Beach. He returned to Camp Pendleton and got a fresh line-up from his barber and hooked up with his buds for a baseball viewing party at an on-base pub. The Padres lost, and he ended up playing pool for the rest of the night, listening to tall tales and body counts among his peers. Unexpectedly, Jordan and Nova showed up to hang out.

He couldn't look at her the same way.

She'd fixed her hair into a sexy new pixie cut that had soft gelled waves making her look like a starlet and even more attractive. Their eyes met and something definitely changed between them. All he could think about was their kiss, and the way she wanted to feel on his dick. Her dewy gaze told him she was thinking the same thing, too. Terry avoided saying too much to her, giving a polite 'Hello' to them both before locking into his pool shots.

Jordan guzzled down beer and hammed it up with a few officers. Nova wandered over to his pool table, nursing a soda. She sipped and watched him play against his friend Luis, then slipped a quarter onto the end of the table, signaling she had the next game against whoever won. Of course, it was him because Luis was a lousy shot most of the time.

Nova chose a pool stick and chalked it down, eyeing him curiously with a playful smile. Terry glanced around, hoping someone else wanted to play instead, but the guys were too busy drinking and talking loud. The pub overflowed with patrons, blocking him and Nova from view of the others. He checked the watch on his arm.

"Gotta run. Early day tomorrow," he said.

He placed his pool stick on the rack and wiped his hands of chalk dust. Nova pursed her lips and her shoulders drooped. He forced himself to leave. Looking at her only increased a forbidden desire, and he'd be damned if he fell for a woman simply for lust. He had a roster of willing women on his phone if he needed sexual relief that badly. Nova was danger, and he read the warnings clearly.

He walked toward housing with hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. All he had to do was stay away from Jordan and their mutual friends until he deployed. Then he'd have no reason to worry about ever seeing Nova. By then, she'd have a baby and no longer feel like hanging out anywhere he'd likely be. The woman dredged up feelings he wasn't used to, like longing and nesting up with someone away from his male companions on base. Jordan Patterson had to be the luckiest motherfucker in the world and couldn't even appreciate what he had at his fingertips: a good woman who loved him with a pure heart.

Terry's parents raised him with morals and values. Thou shall not covet and Thou shall not commit adultery. Such simple tenets and yet his salacious mind quibbled over semantics, searching for loopholes. Could he really covet someone if the husband didn't really want the wife? If a husband broke the marital bond first, should the wife stay beholden to the rules? He shook his head, blaming the rambling thoughts on all the beer he drank. His brain marinated in liquor. Any unscrupulous thoughts he entertained weren't to be taken seriously. He believed that for a full thirty days, Nova-free.

Until the day Von called him over to hang out.

Bethany was out for the day with friends, and his kids were at a summer camp for the week. Von wanted to enjoy a house without his family in the presence of his best bud, and Terry was all for it. Bethany always bought the best snacks, so Terry and Von hunkered down, stuffing their faces with chips, Ding Dongs, string cheese, and Pepsi. They watched some action flicks and talked shit about their jobs and the people who irked them that week. Von and Terry had joined the marines on the buddy system. They were friends back in a small Louisiana parish and had each other's backs ever since. Terry was the one to introduce Von to Bethany. They attended a beach party in Mission Beach and Bethany hemmed Terry up, asking about his friend with the big chocolate malt ball-looking head and thick muscles. From that moment on, Terry, Von, and Bethany had become a family.

Von tapped his TV remote and flipped through a series of military espionage flicks. Terry leaned back and shoved a Hostess cupcake down his throat. The front door flung open and Bethany walked in carrying bags with Nova.

"Time to go," Terry said.

"No…stay. We've got Chinese food and wine. Where you been, stranger?" Bethany asked.

Von jumped up to help put the bags in the kitchen. Bethany gave Terry a kiss on the cheek. He nodded at Nova.

The woman glowed.

Ringlets of shiny black curls crowned her short cut and her skin looked like someone had dusted it with a light bronzer. Her white baby doll tank top and jean shorts reminded him of the Creole girls back home who walked to the corner store looking cute and summery.

"Wash up you two. We'll eat and catch up," Bethany ordered.

Terry headed for the nearest bathroom, and Nova followed him. He let her wash her hands first while he waited against the doorjamb. They switched places. She stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"It's good seeing you again, Terry. Jordan asks about you a lot."

"Been busy…work…y'know."

"Yeah. Guess you heard the news, huh? He's being shipped out. Bad timing for us…with the baby coming, and all."

He nodded and dried his hands.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping past her into the hallway.

"I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable…still."

"We're good."

He walked into the dining room where Bethany set up plates and Von poured white wine into three glasses.

"We put sparkling cider in your glass," Von said, winking at Nova.

Everyone sat down and passed around different containers of shrimp fried rice, chow mein, garlic paper chicken, and sweet and sour pork. They chowed down and talked, and Terry settled into falling for Nova against his will. A year of living in Oceanside had made her appear more confident and comfortable, and she didn't seem all that daunted by the idea of Jordan leaving. He listened to her and Bethany talk about having a baby shower before Jordan left, and they discussed birthing centers and hospitals. Nova genuinely looked happy, and Terry relaxed being with her. Any lascivious thoughts he had in the past about her left his mind. Bethany and Von treated her like family, and he fell in line with the sentiment. One indiscretion didn't doom him. He could turn the page and start fresh with Nova.

After dinner, Nova and Bethany went into the garage while Terry and Von cleaned up the dishes and put away leftovers. They sauntered back into the living room to watch more TV. Bethany and Nova passed them carrying boxes into the den.

"What's all that?" Von asked

"My old maternity clothes. I told you there was a good reason to keep them. Nova and I are going to look through these and find some things for her to take," Bethany said.

"Take it all, please!" Von joked.

Terry lounged on the couch, half watching the TV. He peeked at Nova and Bethany. The women chatted with excited voices and Bethany held up old clothing against Nova's body. Bethany kept drinking wine and snorting as she told maternity stories about birthing her own two girls. Nova sounded nervous and excited about welcoming a little one. He overheard her telling Bethany that the baby wasn't planned, but she hoped it would bring Jordan around to be a better man. Bethany tried to reassure her, but Terry doubted she believed a word she said to the younger woman.

It grew late, and Terry didn't want to overstay his welcome.

"I'ma head on out."

He slapped hands with Von and grabbed his keys from the coffee table.

"Terry, can you drop Nova at her house with the clothes?" Bethany asked.

Terry stood at the front door like a deer caught in headlights.

"I've had too much wine to be driving, plus it's on your way back to base," Bethany said.

She handed Terry a box to carry. Nova carried the second box.

"I can call an Uber," Nova said.

"Save your money, girl. Terry is right here and he can carry the boxes for you. Do you want to take some leftover Chinese food with you?"

"No thank you," Nova said.

"Terry?" Bethany said.

"No, I'm full and Chinese doesn't taste all that good heated back up to me."

Bethany took the large box from Nova and followed Terry out to his truck. They placed the maternity clothes in the truck bed. He opened the passenger door for Nova and she climbed in using the grab handle on his truck. Bethany patted his back.

"Thank you for taking her home. I don't feel safe taking a chance, plus it's supposed to rain in twenty minutes. Your truck is a battalion. Baby on board!"

Bethany hugged him. He accepted the affection.

"I owe you," she said.

Bethany tapped on the window, getting Nova's attention.

"Make sure you wash everything," Bethany said.

Nova nodded. Bethany leaned in toward him so Nova couldn't hear.

"Check on Jordan, will ya? Vivian told me he's been hanging with Kevin after work. I don't know why he's acting like he doesn't want to go home, but Nova needs his support."

Terry sighed and nodded.

"Truth is, I can drive, but I know if I see that man, I'll hurt his feelings. You know how to get through to him," she said.

"Night," he said.

Terry walked to the driver's side and climbed in. He started the car and lowered the air conditioning he had blasted earlier.

"Ready?" he said, trying to sound chipper.

"Yep."

They rode in silence, listening to the radio. It started sprinkling and traffic on the I-5 freeway slowed. By the time they neared her home, there was a full on downpour with sonic booms of thunder that rattled the truck. Nova cowered in her seat. With each thunderous clap, she jumped and trembled. The storm gathered gray ominous clouds that pressed the bolts of lightning lower in the atmosphere. Silver heat sliced erratic zig-zag lines across the horizon. The weather even made Terry feel uneasy. They arrived at her home just as a heavier shower drenched the roads.

"Go open the door, and I'll bring the boxes in," he said.

She hopped out with a mad dash to the front door. He lifted both the wet boxes from the back of his truck and strode indoors, expecting to see Jordan. No one else was in the house.

"Just bring those back here," she said.

She led him to the second bedroom that they were turning into a nursery. He placed the boxes against the closet door.

"Thank you for doing this…bringing me home and carrying all of that."

"No problem."

He glanced around and noticed cute little cartoon animal pictures on the walls. A brand new crib sat in an unopened box near the wall.

"I see you two are getting ready for the new bundle of joy," he said.

"Yeah, Jordan has a few things to put together for me. I am terrible at assembling stuff. We have a whole shelving unit and a baby play center waiting in the garage, still in boxes, too."

He followed her back into the living room. Nova shook rainwater off of her and checked her smartphone. She frowned. Her fingers flew across the text pad.

"Something wrong?"

"Jordan was supposed to be here by now."

She tapped her phone, and Terry heard the dial tone ring. A voice recording came on.

"Jordy, I'm back home. Where are you? Call me and let me know you're on your way back."

Nova placed the phone on a side table and wrung her hands. Hard rain pelted the roof. She pulled a curtain back from the front window.

"It's really coming down," she said.

Her voice carried the strain of worry.

"Jordy isn't a good driver in the rain…" she murmured.

She tried his number once more. Voicemail again. She didn't bother to leave a message.

"You mind if I use your restroom before I go?" he asked.

Nova nodded and sat down on her couch. Another powerful rumble vibrated across her roof. She turned on her TV and tried to ignore the sound outside. Her shoulders trembled.

Terry went to the guest bathroom, closed the door, and pulled out his phone. He called Jordan. The line rang four times and Jordan picked up.

"W'sup, sarge? Where you at? Come through Kevin's way, we're chopping it up over here."

Terry's jaw grew tight. The man ignored his wife but answered his phone for a friend? Trifling.

"I dropped your wife off at home. She's worried about you. You sound drunk and it's raining."

"Why did you drop her off? She's supposed to be with Bethany."

"Bethany was too tipsy to drive and asked me to drop Nova off on my way home. You need to answer your wife's calls."

"All she does is nag me. Every time I turn around, she wants me to put stuff together. We got six more months until the baby gets here."

"Call your wife…now."

Terry hung up and called Kevin.

"You missing out over here, Terry. Got a good spades game—"

"Kev, how sober is Jordan? Is he good to drive or nah?"

"That dude is buzzing."

"Don't let him drive. When the rain dies down, put him in an Uber and send his ass home."

"What's going on, man?"

"He needs to be with his wife. She's worried, and he's not answering her calls. The storm is scaring her, too."

"He said he talked to her."

"He's lying. She called him twice in front of me and he ignored her. I called, and he picked up."

Kevin sighed on the other end.

"This nigga…I'll have him call her."

"Right now, Kev."

"Okay. On it."

Kevin hung up. Terry flushed the toilet. He quickly washed his hands in the sink.

"I should not be babysitting a grown ass man," he mumbled to his reflection.

He took a deep breath and left the bathroom. Nova paced in the living room, arguing with Jordan on her cell. He eased his way toward the door, happy that they were at least talking to one another. Terry's phone vibrated in his pocket. Kevin.

"Aye, I'm going to keep Jordan here for the night. He's talking crazy to Nova on the phone," Kevin said.

Terry could only hear Jordan's muffled voice and Nova's bawling.

Fuck.

"What's he saying?"

"He's drunk off his ass…blaming her for fussing all the time and putting us in their business. All bullshit. Vivian thinks he might act up if he goes home."

Nova threw her phone on the couch and dashed down the hallway.

"Okay. Make sure he's back here in the morning."

Terry swiped his phone and waited by the front door.

"Nova? Kevin is going to keep Jordan at his place until tomorrow. He won't be driving in the rain."

"He can crash into a pole for all I care!"

He heard footsteps and the bathroom door slamming shut. The shower ran. She had a right to be upset. But it wasn't good for the baby. Terry's sister had miscarried from stress in her first trimester. Overactive hormones and an unhappy home weren't a good mix. He walked into the kitchen and searched a few cupboards and a pantry until he found some hot cocoa packets and tea. The cocoa seemed like the best choice for her. He turned on an electric kettle and ripped open a cocoa packet. Finding a decent mug, he mixed hot water, milk and cocoa together. Thunder kept rumbling and a flash of lightning streaked outside the kitchen window.

Nova stepped out of the bathroom wearing a thick red bathrobe. She smoothed back her damp hair, and he held out the hot cocoa to her.

"This should help you calm down," he said.

She padded over to him and took the mug, cradling it against her robe.

"Thank you. For everything."

He nodded.

"Could you stay here for a few more minutes and talk? I don't want to be alone just yet…I get scared of thunder. Jordan usually calms me down, but when I'm alone listening to it…I get nervous…scared. I know nothing will happen to me, but the booming noises…I've always been afraid of that sound. You can watch TV if you don't feel like talking."

Her tremulous voice brought out the protector in him.

"I'm sure there's a late-night horror movie I can watch to go with the weather," he said.

She grinned with relief all over her face.

He joined her on the couch and picked out the Twilight Zone on a streaming service. They watched a couple of episodes while Nova sipped the cocoa. The TV froze for about fifteen minutes, and they chatted about her day with Bethany. She jumped with each thunderclap, but having him next to her seemed to help her deep-rooted fear. Eventually, the TV started working again.

"A lot of these episodes have soldiers or talk about war a lot," she said.

He nodded.

"Rod Serling fought in World War Two. I read a biography about him a few years ago. He used war themes as an allegory in a lot of his episodes."

"Interesting," she said. "Oh! This is one of my favorite episodes…that guy is a prisoner on a planet and has to live with a robot."

"I remember it. He falls in love with her."

"But he can't keep her when he's freed…not enough room on the return space ship."

She put the cocoa mug on the end table.

"So sad. Do you think you could love a robot?"

"Maybe…if it looked real enough. People fall in love with all kinds of things."

"Like in that movie 'Her'. When that guy fell for an app program," she said.

"That was a good movie. Had me looking at my phone apps different. I have one that does a guided meditation and the A.I. voice has a female British accent. I think it's a Black woman…the voice sounds so sexy, telling me what to do."

They both laughed.

"I think your voice would be good for a guided meditation," she said.

"Maybe. People tell me it's deep enough to do voice overs."

"Let's try it."

"What?"

"Do a guided meditation for me so I will fall asleep and you can go home. I know you're tired of sitting here with me being a scardy cat."

"I don't think you're a scardy cat. A chicken maybe…"

She tossed a decorative pillow at him.

"Lay back in a comfortable position," he said.

He moved away from the couch and planted himself on the loveseat, allowing her to stretch out.

"Close your eyes," he said.

She did.

"Imagine that you're on a faraway island somewhere…there's a warm, sunny beach with clear waters for as far as the eye can see. Lie down on the soft warm sand…let the warmth of the sand cover you completely in a blanket of peace. No storms…no worries about thunder…just peace and tranquility…"

Terry kept talking and Nova settled into breathing deeply and relaxing her limbs.

"You can feel yourself floating to a safe place of calm…"

Nova drifted off to sleep.

Terry sat on the loveseat, quietly watching over her. The tension in her face relaxed while she slept. He glanced around at the other furniture, looking for a blanket or throw cover. Nothing caught his eye. He lifted Nova and carried her into a neat bedroom. The curtains were open and another pass of rolling thunder shook the window. Fat drops of rain smacked against the glass, fogging it up with condensation. He placed Nova on the high, queen-sized bed and closed the curtains. Feeling around for the lamp on the nightstand, he turned on a light and pulled the covers back. He reached across the bed and lifted her again. The bathrobe looked cumbersome on her. He untied the belt to make her more comfortable and didn't realize she was naked underneath. Embarrassed, he covered her back up and tied the belt, tucking her in.

Nova's eyes fluttered open.

"Jordan?" she said.

Her eyes adjusted to the light and peered at him with surprise. She glanced at the bed and then the room. Her eyes watered.

"He's probably with someone else right now," she whispered. "All of his friends cover for him."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Terry sat down on the bed and held her. He stroked her hair and murmured comforting words in her ear. All he wanted to do was erase the sadness in her eyes.

A slow-burning anger simmered in Terry's chest. He couldn't understand Jordan. Couldn't understand the neglect of a good woman. What was the point of getting married if you didn't want to be around your wife?

Terry kicked off his shoes and socks and climbed onto the bed, resting his large body next to Nova. If Jordan didn't want to be there, then he would take his place and comfort a lonely wife. She tucked her head under his neck and he rubbed her back with gentle hands.

"You deserve so much more, Nova," he said.

"I think I'll go back home," she huffed into his chest.

"Do what you think is best for you and your baby."

"I've tried my best…but he won't stop…I don't know what he sees in those other women. Why would he ask me to marry him? Why get me pregnant if that isn't what he wanted?"

"All you have to do is rest. In the morning, you can call your people and decide what you want to do."

"Okay," she said with a shuddery breath.

She snuggled against him, and he moved the blankets to make more room for himself.

That's when she did the unthinkable.

Took off the bathrobe.

Terry froze.

Nova tossed the bathrobe on the floor and tugged on his shirt.

"Take it off. You're still a little damp from the rain," she said.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head. Fuck it…he took his sweatpants off, too. He tossed his boxers and sweats on the floor, and in the lamplight, Nova looked over his body with heat in her eyes. She traced his right pec with her finger, and then curled against his side, hugging him. Her breasts pressed against him like soft, fluffy pillows. He looked down at her pretty brown areolas and dared to touch a nipple. Nova leaned back so he could get access to both breasts.

God…she felt so good in his hands. Her nipples stiffened like cute little buttons, and his dick thickened. Any thoughts of right or wrong flew away from his mind. Jordan didn't want to be in the bed with her. He did.

He fondled her breasts, getting more aroused as she sighed with pleasure, enjoying his large hands. What a difference a year made in her body. The once slender physique filled out into a new form, one that had his dick propped up saluting her. He glanced between her legs. Her trimmed thatch of pubic hair looked so pretty, especially with her inner labia plumped up and waiting for his touches. He kissed her first, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and her legs fell open wider. The pink of her pussy glistening with arousal had him gripping his dick and stroking himself. Nova's eyes widened, looking at the size of his erection out in the open. Whatever she thought his dick length was didn't match what her eyes feasted on.

She started playing with her pussy, and Terry groaned so loud that her opening throbbed at the sound. Nova pushed him back and crawled on top of him, letting her wet pussy lips slide up and down his erection. She made the veins on his dick shiny with her slickness.

Up and down she went across his length, teasing the bulbous head of his dick. His pre-cum spilled out, adding more lubricant, and that's how she pleasured herself, grinding slowly on his dick, letting her delicate inner labia slide across the hardness.

She rose and wound her hips, moving that wet pussy in circles, teasing his hardness, making him pant like a desperate man. Her tits hung in his face, doubled in size from the first time he met her. He thrust up to get more exterior friction from her labia. The inner pussy lips spread across his girth, making slippery sounds. She looked at his long dick slathered in her clear sticky fluid. He watched threads of it shine in the light. She rubbed those sticky lower lips against him harder, rocking her hips forward and back.

Nova liked what she felt.

Her mouth became reckless.

"It wouldn't be wrong for us to fuck, Terry. I want to feel you inside of me," she said.

He grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. "Nova…shit," he said.

"Will you fuck me?" she asked.

She started gyrating on his dick and her labia hit a spot that curled his toes. The thick ridge of his frenulum rubbed against her clit, and Nova kept that slow, tortuous grind going.

The woman courted danger. Offered him married pussy on a platter. He'd already wandered into sketchy waters by climbing into bed with her. What the fuck did he think was going to happen doing that? He finally had to come clean with himself.

He wanted Nova.

Wanted her the first time they met. He'd been in denial about his feelings for her. Somehow she got under his skin, and Jordan made it easy by neglecting a husband's duty. He adored her from afar, always waging an internal battle to stay away, so afraid to confront what he tried to hide. Now Jordan's wife humped Terry's dick, asking to be fucked.

"Can I cum inside you without a condom?" he asked.

Nova's glassy-looking eyes were full of lust for him.

"You can cum as much as you want inside of me."

He shut his eyes. Asked God to forgive him for the disrespectful mess he was about to make in that woman's pussy. Her man wasn't due back until morning. Terry was built for long strokes and going all night. His erection grew stiffer with anticipation.

He flipped her over and kissed her passionately, allowing himself the luxury of taking his time. All pretense of being a dutiful wife left Nova. Her man had scorned her, and she wanted the forbidden fruit of new dick.

Terry kissed down her throat and in between her breasts. He sucked both nipples, using his tongue like a brush to paint the most delightful shapes all over her tits. Delving further down, he licked her pussy and kissed her clit, claiming it all for himself.

"This is all mine now," he said, while staring at her with his disarming green eyes.

Nova nodded and whimpered, "Yes…yes…yes…baby it's all yours."

He groaned into her vulva and her legs wrapped around his head. Nothing would stop him from pleasing her. He ate her pussy like a charcuterie board, smacking his lips and sampling her clit, tasting her delightful opening by thrusting the tip of his tongue in, then gliding his full lips down the middle, giving her gentle kisses. Terry gazed at her while doing it with sensual eyes that dared Nova to give in to his cravings for more. He pampered her vulva as if that night would be his only chance to have her. She came so hard on his lips that they dripped with her natural lubricant. Spent from her orgasm, Nova cried, turning her face toward the pillow.

"We can stop…if you can't handle this…we can stop and forget it ever happened," he said, trying to soothe her.

She shook her head.

"I don't want to stop. I'm just…happy. Haven't had an orgasm like that in so long. I forgot how good they can feel," she said.

She hugged him tight and bawled in his arms.

"It feels good to be wanted again, Terry…thank you."

A smidgen of guilt tried to latch hold, but he threw it off like his morals.

"Don't cry, let me make you feel even better…I'll make you forget all your troubles," he whispered in her ear.

He gently pushed her legs back and draped them over his biceps. Nova watched the head of his dick rub on her clit, testing her sensitivity. She hissed and clamped her lips together when he pushed the tip in. Her pussy was tight at the entrance, and he waited for her to relax before he pushed in further.

"Ooh…Terry…its big…oh…wait…wait…oh God…oh God…"

Nova's eyes rolled back as he thrust in deeper. She tilted her hips, and he hit the bottom of her pussy so fast that he groaned out her name. Her walls clenched around him.

"Oh, fuck, Nova…baby this pussy is so tight…you're gripping me so good baby…you been wanting this dick, huh?"

"Yes…yes…yes…"

He pumped inside of her with assured thrusts, making sure she felt every inch dedicated to her pleasure.

"Oh, you feel so good, Terry…"

He hunched down lower, wanting to feel her breasts against his chest. Everything about her made him feel giddy and alive. He wondered if this was what love felt like while making love. His heart swelled with so many emotions. Happiness, desire…even revenge. Revenge for the lack of care Jordan had for his wife. He wanted Nova to get the best dick he could offer her.

They kissed while he gave her deep dick. Their tongues colluded in an illicit affair of their own, and Nova whimpered his name inside his mouth, casting her love magic all over him. He wanted to clap her cheeks and helped her turn onto her hands and knees as his balls slapped against her ass and clit with each doggy-style thrust. She gripped the sheets tight and looked back at him with a shocked face.

"You're stretching my pussy…Terry…it's so big."

"You're taking it so good, baby…I got you."

He reached around and played with her clit, giving it slow, circular strokes. Her ass bounced with his pounding and she locked her eyes on him, wanting to watch the satisfaction on his face.

"You like it?" she asked.

She knew damn well he did by the way he grunted and cursed with each stroke.

"I love it."

"You want to cum inside me?"

His mouth fell open, and his eyes narrowed. Her walls yanked on his dick. She had something to prove. He wished he'd been the one to put a baby in her. She threw that ass back on him and his nutsack pulsed, already gearing up for a release. He wanted her on her back. He wanted to nut deep inside of her in missionary. Pretend he was making a baby with her.

"Turn around…yeah baby…on your back…ooh yes, leave your legs wide open like that," he said.

Terry made love to her like she was his woman. Nova whipped her head back and forth and when he pinned her down, they locked eyes.

"Cum inside me…please…Terry…"

Nova touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes, unable to take the intensity she poured out from her gaze. She let him get deep in her guts. Her pussy stretched around him like she belonged on his dick and no one else. He stroked her clit, and she chewed on her lip. A look of ecstasy danced in her eyes and he begged her to cum on his dick first.

She broke apart easily…endlessly. Her orgasm flushed her light brown skin in a sheen of sweat that soaked his body and the sheets. Terry watched her climax with a feeling of gratitude. God allowed him to witness her pleasure, and it captivated him.

"Nova…I'm cumming…fuck…I'm cumming…all deep in your pussy baby…you're making me nut so hard! Fuck..I want to get you pregnant myself. Ohhhhhhh! Fuuckkk!"

She babbled something incoherent, but it didn't matter. Her tight pussy rocked his fucking world. The first spurt of semen made his anus clench and a heavy outpouring of cum spilled into her like it would never stop. He dug his toes into the mattress and rode out the wave of orgasmic pleasure that flowed out of him and into her like electricity. Knowing he was filling her up with so much jizz brought on another surge of semen that knocked him off his feet. He hollered out her name and jammed a hand on the headboard to keep from falling over as a rush of contractions squeezed his balls into pussy submission.

Gasping for air, Terry blinked sweat from his eyes and leaned back, pulling his dick out.

So much cum ran out of Nova's glossy pink opening. He stretched her open so much that he could see the tunnel he made in her walls. It was all flooded with white.

"Damn," he said.

He kissed her on the lips and held her close until she had to pee. She left his side briefly and returned, giving him soft kisses on his cheeks and lips. He took a restroom break and cleaned his dick for round two. Nova was up for it. She was over three months pregnant and her body acted like it wanted to get knocked up again. He let her ride his dick, and he enjoyed her so much it made his heart ache. Perhaps it was the illicit nature of the sex and the danger of Jordan walking in on them, but Terry and Nova made wild love like the night would never end.

"You're so beautiful. Look how pretty you look fucking my dick…such a good girl riding this big dick like that. Oh, bounce on it…yesssss…just like that. Let me stretch you out some more. Go up…all the way up…hold it…now slide back down…yes…you love this dick…dontcha? Tell me…tell me you love this dick."

"I love this dick…oh Terry…I love this dick…harder…fuck me harder."

"You sound like you want me to make another mess in that tight pussy."

"I do…oh! Right there!"

"Right there? Like that?"

"Yes!"

The give and take was unreal and by their final tryst, he'd drained his balls while holding her breasts in reverse cowgirl. He imagined her big tits spurting milk for the baby and nutted so hard that his eyes crossed. Nova leaned forward so he could watch his cum flow out of her in creamy rivulets. She helped push it out. He wiggled his fingers inside her to feel his liquid warmth coating her walls. He helped her change the ruined sheets afterward, and they snuggled up like husband and wife.

He put her to sleep and spent the last hours of the night watching over her and stroking her hair. By morning, he gave her a big kiss on her forehead and snuck away as she slept.

He thought their night together would be a onetime thing.

How wrong he had been.

That one night created a bond so tight that it was difficult to function anymore around their friends with normal interactions. He hated for her to be stuck with Jordan, and he hated being around them together because his eyes never stayed off of her. She was the same way. Any mention of leaving Jordan and going back to South Carolina never happened again. They had embarked on something that neither of them wanted to end. Her pregnancy didn't hamper anything. It actually enhanced their encounters.

At flag football games they pretended to be casual, but the longing gazes between them became overt and he ended up wearing his Oakley shades a lot. Von and Bethany threw more late summer barbecues at their home and he'd sneak into the bathroom to meet up with Nova just to kiss and fondle her body.

"I miss you," she'd whisper.

"I miss you more."

She sat on the closed toilet seat and sucked his dick, squeezing his balls and swallowing his load.

Her baby bump started showing by early fall, and he fucked her from behind in her own kitchen while Jordan sat outside in his backyard talking to their mutual male friends.

Terry was brazen about it.

Nova washed dishes in the sink, and he pretended to make a private call on his cell. He unfastened his jeans. The guys joked around outside, getting drunk and telling bawdy overseas stories. He lifted Nova's dress and slid her panties to the side, stuffing his heavy dick inside her pussy. She panted and begged for more. He clutched a breast with one hand and palmed her rounded belly with the other.

"You miss this dick?" he breathed into her ear.

"Always, baby. You make my pussy feel so good."

She watched the back of her husband's head as Jordan laughed it up, not knowing his wife's pussy was getting smashed to smithereens three feet away. He pumped in and out, listening to the squelching noises and enjoying the tight squeezes she gave him with each lewd thrust.

"The baby okay?" he asked.

"It's okay…oh Terry, you feel so good. I wish we could fuck in the bed. I want to ride your dick so bad right now."

"I know, baby. But we have to enjoy this for now."

She whimpered and clutched the sink for balance. He tried to control his moans, but her pussy weakened him.

"Ready for me to cum inside you?" he rasped in her ear.

The root of his dick pulsed, and he stopped holding her belly to stroke her swollen clit. It was sinful. So wrong. They didn't care. It felt good…felt right. He bit into her shoulder to stifle a loud groan as he spurt into her pussy. She came with him and they struggled to keep quiet, knowing that all it took to court disaster fully was for Jordan to turn around and see him pressed against his wife.

Terry pulled out, and a bit of semen fell to the floor. He didn't care. Nova fixed her panties, and they stepped away from the window so they could secretly kiss.

"I'm getting a new place soon," he said.

Her eyes lit up.

"Nothing fancy, just a one bedroom where we can be alone. Can't have you sneaking on base again," he said.

A week previous, Nova came on base during the night and they fucked in his truck. His buddy Ken walked through the parking lot to his car, but stopped when he saw Terry lifting Nova up and down in the pushed back driver's seat. Luckily, Ken didn't see her face in the darkness. Getting his own place seemed like the smartest move. They didn't want to risk hotels or motels.

Terry walked back outside with his phone in his hand and watched Nova walk out ten minutes later, bringing Jordan a beer. She sat next to her husband and Terry secretly loved the fact that Nova was full of his cum, acting like they didn't just bump uglies. He didn't care anymore. Nova was his woman…she just happened to be married to another man.

During her third trimester, Nova and Jordan planned a road trip to San Francisco for Thanksgiving. All of his friends had trips to other places. Von and Bethany planned for a trip to Indiana to see her family. Terry finally had his own place, and the day before she was to leave, Nova snuck away to see him. Their hookups became few. She waddled to the condo he ended up leasing. He waited for her by the elevator, and once she reached the third floor, they hugged each other so tight that he thought he'd never see her again. Her plump face and swollen feet made him smile.

He held her hand and walked her to his tastefully furnished home. Inside, he rubbed her feet and listened to her litany of body complaints. He didn't mind her complaining. Listening to her voice poured life into his spirit. Terry didn't realize how alone he was until Nova came into his life. Everyone in his clique had someone to come home to. He longed for the same.

He cooked Nova a healthy dinner of baked chicken and sliced squash with homemade garlic mashed potatoes the way his mama made it.

"How come you aren't going home for the holidays?" she said, stuffing her mouth with a second helping of potatoes.

"My family is going on a cruise out of New Orleans. Plus…I don't want to be far away from you."

Nova put down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. He put away the food and helped her rest on his bed. She slept for a long time and he spooned around her, rubbing her belly. He loved her. Loved the child inside of her.

Terry secretly wanted her to divorce Jordan and marry him instead.

She woke up and checked her phone on his nightstand.

"Baby, I'm sorry I slept so long," she said.

"I don't mind. I just want to be with you sleeping or awake."

"My doctor said I can still have sex…we can fool around before I go."

"You feel up to it?"

"I want to make you happy."

"You lying next to me makes me happy."

She hugged him, and he cradled her in his arms.

"I feel a kick," she said.

Nova moved his hand to where she lifted her maternity shirt. He spread his long fingers across some stretch marks on her side. He smiled.

"Somebody is punching up a storm in there," he said.

Nova clutched onto his arm.

"I want to be with you for Thanksgiving. I'm going to be miserable in San Francisco," she said.

"You get to see your parents."

"I know, but then they'll be down here through Christmas. That means…"

She pushed her face into his chest.

"Aw, Nova, I know. Our time is narrowing down. We knew it would happen the closer it came time for your birth," he said.

"When the baby comes…will you leave me?"

Terry wiped tears from her face. Their whirlwind affair was taking a toll on them both. What sane man starts a romance with a married pregnant woman?

"Let's enjoy right now. Don't worry your beautiful mind about the future. We're here…now."

They kissed. He helped her undress slowly and then shook off his clothes, anchoring himself around her. Pillows eased the weight of her belly. She turned on her side further and he entered her slowly. He squeezed and fondled her breasts that were engorged with milk, ready to feed an infant. Terry imagined himself being with her while she fed the baby, imagined what it would be like to hold it in his arms. He pinched her nipple and rocked into her wet softness. Her pussy still took care of him.

Nova moaned with pleasure, and the sound heightened his arousal. Life played a cruel trick on them, bringing him the love he never knew he needed at the wrong point in time. He should've been the one to have her first. Terry would've run home to Louisiana with her in triumph, showing his family the love of his life. He would've set Nova up in a big country house and put a ton of babies in her. Her nipples leaked milk. He pinched one of them, letting the liquid express in a messy drizzle down her breast. The sight of it caused his balls to throb, and he pushed hot cum into her pussy.

"Ooh…it's so warm," Nova said.

He pinched her other nipple, and another trickle of milk wet his fingers.

"Fuck…fuck…Nova…"

His body tensed, watching her big tits drip milk while his dick pulsed inside her, shooting cum deep in her womb. He hollered out his climax loud enough for the neighbors to hear through the walls. His pelvic muscles contracted rhythmically, taking the thrusts of his hips out of his control. Another urge to ejaculate built up again, like the snapping of a rubber band back to square one.

"Soak that pussy, Terry," Nova urged him.

He obliged by resting for a minute to indulge in the sensations coursing through him by being inside of her. His ability to get another erection quickly was a blessing. He didn't worry about falling asleep on her because his refractory period was far off. Their time together was precious, and he was going to savor every second with Nova. His dick understood that and acted accordingly.

She left the bed to urinate, and they got right back to it on her return. He held her leg up the second time and she cried, telling him she loved the way he fucked her. She looked back at him.

"I love you, Terry…I love you…"

Her words struck him hard, and he roared his satisfaction by flooding her walls.

Nova's phone vibrated. They both peeped Jordan's avatar.

Terry turned away from her. Nova answered the phone, her voice flustered.

"Hey, I'm out shopping. I'll be home soon. Okay…yes, everything is packed. I put your blue tie in it with the red one… I'm calling an Uber now," she said, with rushed breath.

She hung up.

"Jordan's home. He wants to take me to dinner and leave early. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, and he wants to avoid all the traffic."

"That's smart. Gotta get you and the baby to your parents in one piece."

"I'm going to use your shower."

He nodded and watched her leave for the bathroom. The guilt and gnawing jealousy worked his nerves. He slammed a fist on the mattress and fought back uncontrollable tears.

Nova gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Terry heard about it through Bethany. He didn't communicate with Nova while her parents were staying in Oceanside for a month.

"Your godson is on his way," Bethany said on the phone.

Terry lifted weights at the gym. He had a martial arts class to teach in an hour and needed to finish a leg day before instructing.

"Oh, yeah?"

He tried to sound normal, but his heart thumped worrying about Nova.

"This boy must've known his daddy needed to see him before he shipped out. I'll call you when he gets here. I'm in the hospital waiting room with her parents."

"Okay, thanks."

Terry grew nauseous with anxiety. Nova was a strong woman. He wanted to be by her side, but it wasn't his place. He showered and went to his class on auto-pilot. His students put it all on the mat and he compartmentalized his thoughts to focus on them and not on his lover.

Godson.

Jordan Patterson Jr. came into the world at six pounds, two ounces. Bethany sent him pictures, and Terry stared at the little wonder with awe. Jordan approached him about being the boy's godfather after they did an ultrasound and found out they were having a son. He begged off from the title, but Von and Bethany insisted he couldn't let the couple down because they looked up to him. It was a punch to the gut, but he reluctantly accepted with Von's urging.

"That man needs guidance, T. Being a godfather means you can be his role model on another level," Von said.

Terry laughed from crying. Jordan Jr. should've been Terry Jr.

He sucked it up.

Nova stayed in the hospital for two days. Terry went to visit her late in the evening, after he hoped everyone was away. Unfortunately, her mother and mother-in-law were there, fussing over Nova and the baby. He walked in carrying rainbow balloons and a powder blue teddy bear.

The new mother rested in her hospital bed breastfeeding Junior. He watched her for a moment until her eyes rose to meet his. His vision grew blurry staring at her. She was so beautiful. Nova lowered a blanket on her shoulder over the baby's head and her breast. He knocked on the door, getting the other women's attention.

"Momma, this is Terry, Junior's godfather."

Mrs. Easton, Nova's mother, smiled and welcomed him in. He greeted Jordan's mother and handed her the teddy bear and balloons.

"I can sleep on my stomach now," Nova joked.

She pulled her hospital gown back over her breast and removed the small white blanket covering the baby's face. She burped him on her shoulder first, then held him out for Terry to hold.

"Hey little dude…look at you," he said.

Nova's lips trembled, and her eyes welled up. She blinked back tears and her mother came over to kiss her goodbye.

"Visiting hours are about to end. I'm going to go have dinner with Cindy," Mrs. Easton said.

"I should go, too," he said, pretending to leave.

The two older women left first, and he waited a minute before sitting down next to Nova, cradling the baby against his chest.

"He's a beautiful boy, Nova. You did good, baby."

"Thank you."

They hadn't seen one another for over a month. He would've given the world to scoop them both up and run off to his place. She was a mother now. His fantasy romance had to end. He sat quietly with her, unable to say anything of significance. She knew it was over, too. Her energy and time had to go toward the bundle in his hands. He leaned over and kissed her. Their love lingered in the space between their lips. All the unsaid things lived in the kiss.

Terry studied Junior's face. Tight black curls and cocoa brown skin. All Jordan. A nurse stopped by and he handed the baby back to Nova. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. Neither of them said goodbye.

Jordan left for the Indo-Pacific tour a week later.

Nova's mother stayed in town, and her father flew back home. He stayed busy with work and flag football. Von and Bethany invited him over for a birthday dinner in his honor two months later. Nova showed up with the baby. She looked stunning. The new-mother weight had shifted and morphed into something different. She looked like a sexy coke bottle bombshell. Without the maternity clothes, her new wardrobe highlighted her wider ass and fuller breasts. She still had a little belly fat with her stomach, and he liked it. The changes gave her a maternal shine that he couldn't get over. She seemed delighted to be around him again, and they both acted with decorum, despite his yearning to hold and kiss her.

Jordan Jr. was round and chunky, like the Michelin Man. Terry walked around with the boy like the proud godfather he was. Everyone at his party complimented him on how comfortable he looked with a baby and kidded him about getting married like everyone else. He only grinned and bounced Junior in his arms. At one point, folks started dancing, and Terry playfully grabbed Nova's hand and spun her around among their friends. Bethany held the baby, and it gave him the opportunity to touch Nova. He swung her out with some old-fashioned partner dancing to SWV and they lived inside a liminal space carved out just for them. Watching her laugh, feeling her warmth against him, having her catch his hand after he released her in time to the music was the best birthday gift he could have.

Von introduced him to a woman named April, and Terry became annoyed at the attempt at setting him up on his birthday. When the party became more raucous in the evening, Nova left. Terry followed her down the street to her car. She carried Junior in a car seat.

"Do you have to go?" he asked.

Nova placed her son in the back seat.

"Junior is a light sleeper. The noise will get to him. I had a great time today seeing everyone all together again. Happy Birthday, Terry."

She hugged him.

The moment they touched, everything felt the same. He sighed while holding her. Their lips couldn't stay apart and they kissed out in the open.

"I want to see you again," he said.

"We can't… things are different. I have the baby."

"Bring him. Let's just have dinner at my place. I'm supposed to spend time with my godson, right?"

She smirked.

"Bethany has someone more your speed waiting for you back at her house."

"April? She's cool, but she's not you, Nova. No one compares to you."

She shut the back passenger door and walked around to the driver's side.

"Dinner and nothing else?"

"Promise."

He kept the promise.

He cooked fettuccine with steak and played with the baby. Nova left with her dignity intact and they continued seeing each other without sex. He grew comfortable settling into a non-sexual relationship with her. Unfortunately, that only encouraged the stronger emotional attachment that grew between them. They acted like a couple raising a child together whenever they were alone.

When they hung out with their mutual friends, he gave off Big Uncle energy to his godson. On his days off, he offered to babysit so Nova could have a few hours to herself.

They didn't start sleeping together again until Jordan returned. The six-month tour changed him. He bonded with his son and, of course, this cut off Terry's time with Nova. She snuck away when she could and their relationship headed for a conclusion he didn't want to face. Nova knew they were about to plummet over a precipice, but he was determined to stay calm about it. The baby grew bigger and looked just like his daddy. He sensed the ambivalence in her about maintaining their affair. It was only a matter of time before he expected her to end it. He dreaded that moment.

One afternoon, he fucked the curls out of Nova's hair. She showed up wearing a sheer red negligee under a long coat and he sent her home dripping with semen in her panties. An hour later, Jordan came knocking on his door.

Terry stared at him through the keyhole and braced himself for some bullshit. He never gave Jordan his address. Other than Nova, only Von and Bethany knew that he'd moved off base.

"Who is it?" Terry called out, pretending not to know.

"Terry, it's me, Jordan. I need to talk to you…man to man."

Terry inhaled and opened the door, keeping his right leg behind him in case he needed to stick and move. Jordan had creases in his forehead and the whites of his eyes were pink.

"I need your advice," Jordan said.

Terry widened the door and invited Jordan in. He sat on the couch, and Terry sat on his recliner.

"What's going on?"

"It's Nova…I think…I think she's cheating on me."

Terry swallowed thickly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"What makes you believe that?"

Jordan stared at the floor.

"I've suspected it for a few months now. Since I came back. She's different, man."

"Motherhood changes women."

"Nah. Not like this. She's probably getting back at me because of Lourdes."

"Lourdes?"

"Some letters and a care package got forwarded to our house."

"You're still seeing her?"

"She was just a placeholder when Nova first got pregnant. I didn't have sex with Nova because of the baby and, well…shit…I got a blowjob here and there from Lourdes…ate some coochie and jerked off. I left overseas, and she started emailing and sending me shit. Nova didn't know until this fucking box showed up at the house today. But me and Lourdes were done…been over. That bitch stalked me with mail and gifts. Nova stormed out after we had a fight about it and left me with the baby. She came home smelling like sex and claimed she went to the gym and that I'm just projecting onto her. My wife is fucking another nigga and it's all because of that dumb bitch."

"So, none of this is your fault? Sneaking off to get your dick sucked? Constantly making poor choices?"

Jordan closed his eyes.

"Terry…listen to me. All that shit is over. I came home, and she put my son in my arms and I just…he looks just like me. Nova held it down by herself and now I'm gonna lose her to some fucker knocking her box out. She walks around humming and doesn't care if I go out anywhere. She don't nag or fuss at me like she used to. It's like she's plotting to leave the house every moment I turn my head. I'm thinking about dropping one of those Apple AirTags in her purse to track where she goes when she claims she's shopping or having lunch."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"And say what? Stop cheating on me? She's getting back at me and I can't say I blame her. But I'm different. I'm willing to do anything…in fact, I'm getting out of the marines and taking her and the baby back to Charleston. I'm not re-upping. I gotta get her outta Oceanside and away from whoever she's seeing. This nigga done shifted her entire personality. I know he's fucking the shit outta her cuz her body is ridiculous. She's probably been banging him since I've been gone. I snooped around the house and found Plan B and spermicides in her personal bathroom cabinet."

Jordan held his head in frustration.

"Nova ain't never used spermicides with me. I bet she's letting this fool raw dog her."

Terry tried not to grind his teeth and sat back in his chair.

"I can't lose my family, Terry!"

Jordan burst into tears and moaned in great pain. Terry could only watch him with pity and feel dirty about the whole situation. All three of them were moving foul. But now a baby was involved.

"I have loved that woman for so long," Jordan said.

"You have a weird way of showing it."

"I know…I can't make any excuses for it anymore."

Jordan rolled into a ball on the couch. He looked like a hurt little boy that got his ball taken away…a ball he kicked away himself.

"What am I going to do?" Jordan pleaded.

"Can I ask you something personal? I want you to be truthful with me, though."

Jordan lifted his head, teary-eyes and lost.

"What?"

"Why did you marry Nova? You could've spared her suffering if you didn't get married."

"I loved her."

"Beyond that, though. What were you thinking when you asked her? Why didn't you just leave her be until you'd got your hoeing out of your system?"

Jordan glanced around Terry's condo like he was searching for the shadow of an answer in the corners.

"She was always my girl."

"Dig deeper."

Jordan closed his eyes in thought. He sat up and looked at Terry directly.

"If I didn't snatch her up soon, someone else would take her. I didn't want to leave her in South Carolina single. I thought…if I locked her down, I'd be set. No one else would touch her. I got her pregnant, and I figured we'd work through the kinks and things would get better."

"How did that come through your pea brain, Jordan? She's not someone you can put in a box and ignore until you're ready to grow up. You sidetracked her life—"

"I didn't want to lose her, Terry. Maybe I wasn't ready…but we'd been close for years. Our families are locked in. I didn't…I can't lose her."

Jordan jumped up and angrily paced.

"I swear to God if I catch this nigga she's creepin' with, I'll kill him."

"If she's happier, let her go."

"Nigga what? Are you crazy?"

"You're getting care packages overseas from a woman you claim was a past side piece a year ago. Nova did nothing but love you, and you shit on her every chance you get!"

Terry stood and stared Jordan down with flared nostrils and narrow eyes.

"That woman has cried over you…prayed…done everything to keep your marriage together. Fuck, man! She had your baby! Gave up school because of it. You haven't thought about what she's sacrificed to be with you… everything revolves around your needs. I want her to divorce you!"

Jordan gawked. His mouth fell open, and he inched back. His eyes went up and down Terry's body. He held up a hand.

"Why would you want her to divorce me, Terry?"

Exasperated, Terry exhaled and put his hands on his hips.

"You can't make Nova happy if you keep hurting her. That's all I'm saying. Let her go if you can't get your shit together. For her sake, and your son."

Jordan glared at him.

"Are you fucking my wife?"

Terry mustered all the calm he could find in his bones.

"No."

Jordan closed his eyes and huffed.

"I love her. I love my son. He's the best thing that's happened to us," Jordan said.

Terry's legs shook. His stomach twisted in knots, and he tasted a sour liquid at the back of his throat. He wanted to blurt out the truth, but he probably would've vomited had he done that, knowing that Nova would suffer the consequences. So would Junior. He clamped a hand on Jordan's shoulder. His godson deserved to have a father who wanted to make things right once and for all.

"Jordan, go home to your wife. Beg her for forgiveness and show her with your deeds—not words—that you're deserving of her love. Don't worry about who she may or may not be fucking. This is your only chance to come correct."

Jordan nodded his head and started crying. He was a child in a man's body with the emotional intelligence to match. Terry had no faith in him to do better. However, every man deserved the opportunity to try. He wouldn't stand in the way. Terry knew he and Nova would hit a brick wall once Jordan came back. It was time for fate and Jordan to take over.

Terry reached over and hugged Jordan.

"Go home to your family."

Jordan stayed true to his word and didn't re-enlist. Von and Bethany threw them a going away barbecue at one of their flag football games. Nova played on an opposite team and snatched Terry's flag off a few times for old times' sake.

They spoke on the phone privately the night before and cried together. Despite her anger and bitterness toward her husband, Nova loved Jordan. Terry didn't reveal that he spoke with him in his condo. He also kept his opinion about having no faith in Jordan's ability to man up to himself. There was no need to pressure her into giving him what he wanted. She had to leave her husband on her own when she was ready. Pushing her to do it would cause resentment.

"I love you…always baby," he told her.

"My heart hurts…I love you—"

"Go hold on to that beautiful baby for me."

"Terry…please don't hate me for trying again."

"I could never hate you, Nova. Put that thought out of your mind."

"He stopped drinking. Most of his infidelity issues and unacceptable behavior came from that. We're starting counseling back home. Getting back into church again. I think he was so disconnected from who he was…maybe Junior helped remind him of who he used to be."

He respected her decision. Had he been in Jordan's position, he would've begged God to give him another chance, too.

"Nova?"

"Yes?"

He should've bitten his tongue, but he said it anyway.

"When you want me to come get you. You let me know. Okay?"

She stayed quiet.

There were so many friends at the park that it became easy for him to drift along and keep busy with other people. He wandered to his truck to get a jacket, and Nova thought he was leaving. She chased him down in the parking lot and threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her up and held her, their tears mixing in person. Emotionally drained after the sad goodbye, Terry drove home and cried.

Nova and Jordan flew out the next day with their baby, and it didn't surprise Terry at all that Nova left Jordan four months later. Bethany let slip at a cookout that Nova filed for divorce and moved in with her brother- and sister-in-law. Terry minded his business and hoped Nova would finally find happiness. She was with her people and had a strong, supportive family to carry her through. Inserting himself into her life in the middle of new turmoil was something he wouldn't do. God took her away for a reason. Terry worked on closing that chapter in his life, no matter how painful it was.

Another summer was upon him, and he made vacation plans to visit his family on a road trip. He cleaned his condo, dropped off some spare keys for his friend Angie to watch his place while he was gone, and gassed up his truck. The only thing he had left to do was collect his travel bags. He collected mail from his mailbox in the condo lobby and found a large white envelope addressed to him by name, but with no return address.

Terry took the elevator to his home and tossed the junk mail aside. He opened the envelope and pulled out a large color photo of a cute brown baby girl with green eyes so bright they seemed to leap off the photo paper. His heart thudded in his chest. He sat down on his couch and flipped the photo over. There was only a name and a phone number.

Terrina Richmond.

The phone number had an unfamiliar area code. He looked it up on his smartphone.

Charleston, South Carolina.

Terry's hands shook so badly he had to press them on his thighs. He stared at the photo again. The baby had wispy waves of dark brown hair like him, but the eyes…God the eyes were his, too. Especially the long curling eyelashes.

He picked up his phone, and with trembling fingers, called the number.

"Hello?"

"Nova?"

"Terry—"

"I have a photo in my hand. That's why I called this number…Nova—"

"Come get me…come get us."

"Send me the address, baby. I'm on my way."

He asked no questions. Didn't worry about how he would explain to his relatives that he had to make a detour from Louisiana to South Carolina. His prayers had been answered.

Terry Richmond booked a flight to Charleston. He had to get his woman back and meet his new daughter.

Lick Back 2 HERE.

A.N: Hey, shit happens. Just needed to write this one to see where it would go!

[pickingupmymercedes]

That girl (woman) - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: That girl - Olly Murs

pairing: Husband!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff

a/n: tried a little something different with the pov and the narrative, let me know what you guys think.

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

It was a regular Wednesday mid-autumn, the kind of quiet morning in the Hamilton household that felt precious in its ordinariness. Lewis sat at the edge of their bed, balancing a tray loaded with her favorite redberry pancakes and a fresh bouquet perched precariously on the side table.

Before we dive deeper, let me share a little secret about Lewis. He’s a legend on the track—speed, skill, mind, the whole package. But there, in their Monaco apartment, watching his wife sleep soundly as morning eased into afternoon, he was just a man.

And as he gazed at her with a strange mix of tenderness and a touch of guilt, it was clear he was reflecting on what he nearly threw away once.

You see, Y/n hadn’t been just any woman in his life. She’d been a force, a renowned stylist, beloved by many. And Lewis, in a past he now could only shake his head at, had once thought he was doing her a favor by pushing her away.

He’d believed that she deserved someone less weighed down by a career that dragged him across continents, with fame that threw him, and her by default, under every public spotlight.

So, in a moment of misguided self-sacrifice, he’d told her she deserved better. Needed to leave him, he’d said, so she could find someone who could give her the life she deserved.

But she’d seen through his words. She’d planted herself firmly in his life and told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he truly wanted her gone, he’d have to make the effort to really let her go.

He hadn’t, of course— couldn’t. And now, there she was, their child growing inside her, still by his side.

Back in the bedroom that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea, Y/n began to stir, her dark lashes fluttering as she woke.

The sunlight had climbed high, a clear sign she’d overslept. Not that it was surprising. Lately, the exhaustion came in waves—pregnancy was starting to demand more rest from her.

She shifted slightly, her bump visible under the soft rise of his oversized T-shirt she’d claimed as sleepwear. Lewis smiled at that, too, how she’d taken so much of him as her own.

As Y/n stretched, blinking sleep from her eyes, she spotted Lewis there, looking all too pleased with himself, balancing that breakfast tray as if he’d been waiting an hour to make his grand entrance.

“Why, Sir. To what do I owe this royal breakfast treatment?” she asked, her voice still drowsy, as she raised an eyebrow playfully though she wore a faint smile.

“Oh, nothing much,” he said, setting the tray in front of her. But there was something about the way he lingered, how his eyes traced her face a bit longer than usual, and how his hand found its way to her bump, lightly brushing circles over her stomach.

She noticed it too, of course. Y/n’s gaze slid from him to the pancakes, to the bouquet of wildflowers he’d set down beside her. His hand was still there, fingers spreading, gentle against her skin.

She tucked into the pancakes, savoring the tart sweetness of the berries, though one eye was still on him. He was keeping quiet, which was unusual enough to make her pause, fork halfway to her mouth.

He didn’t speak, but his fingers had settled in, tracing softer circles on her tummy, as if trying to connect with their child through her skin.

“Alright, spill it, Hamilton,” she said at last, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. She hadn’t missed the glances, the softer smiles, or how his usual self-assured charm was just a little off this morning.

He fumbled. Oh yes, THE Lewis Hamilton—six inches taller than everyone else when it came to confidence—stumbling on his words now as he looked back at her, gathering himself as if preparing to speak before a packed audience.

“It’s nothing. Really, I just…” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to thank you. For yesterday. For coming to the factory with me.”

Ah, yes, the visit. Y/n had been there at his side all day, chatting with engineers and mechanics, giving them warm smiles, sometimes asking the kind of questions that endeared her to the team.

She’d been there, even though they both knew she’d been exhausted—he’d seen it in the way she leaned against surfaces or rested a hand on her bump when she thought he wasn’t looking.

But she’s the kind of person who’d walk the extra mile without a second thought if it meant making him feel grounded

“Oh” She waved it off. “I just know it’s important for you to have your support system there. Besides, we’ll leave you alone to those visits for a while, after this one gets here.” She gave him a smile, and it was enough to make Lewis sit back, humbled and deeply, thoroughly grateful.

Because that’s the thing about Y/n. She didn’t just say the right things. She showed up. She showed him, again and again, that he was worth it to her.

When he’d told her to leave, thinking he was noble, sacrificing himself for her own good, she’d thrown it right back at him. Said if he wanted her gone, he’d have to be a man and make it happen. He hadn’t. And in not doing it, he’d made a choice just as firmly as she had.

He reached out then, brushing his fingers on her cheek, his hand lingering for a moment, as if memorizing her face.

Y/n, ever observant, took his hand, resting it over hers. She could feel the weight of everything unsaid—how his grip was just a bit tighter, his thumb brushing her knuckles in slow circles. Her eyes softened, and for once, he allowed himself to drop the pretense.

“I know I’ve said it before,” he started, his voice quiet. “But I don’t think I can ever say it enough. I’m grateful. For you, for our little one. For everything.”

She let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. “Lewis, you don’t need to go poetic on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, but even then, there was a solemnity in his expression, an echo of the worry that had lived with him since that fateful night years ago when he’d tried to push her out.

He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to let her know he was serious.

They didn’t need words, not really. She knew, and he knew she knew.

That’s the magic they’d always shared. She didn’t need a grand speech to understand that in the way he carried her breakfast in, the way he’d brushed her cheek, he was telling her a thousand times over just how lucky he felt.

For Lewis, that single kiss said everything he couldn’t.

They sat there in quiet contentment, her finishing the last of her pancakes, his hand tracing that rhythmic pattern on her bump again, as if communicating with their little one in their secret code.

“Now” she said, breaking the silence as she watched him circling his fingers on her belly “I need you to go. This mama’s got work, and so do you, unless you plan on spending the rest of the day like this.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he said, flashing a mischievous grin.

But he stood regardless, though he couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss. Because that’s also the thing about Lewis—he’d had a brush with losing her once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again.

So there he was, savoring the sight of her, engraving this moment into memory. After all, being wrong about her had been the best mistake of his life.

______________________________________________________________

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[rinnstars]

time capsule!

in which you hesitate on calling him on his 19th

itoshi sae x reader: angst w comfort, happy ending, long distance rs, birthday fic ish, not proof read + likes n reblogs are appreciated

its cowardly - its been 30 minutes and you’ve still yet to dare to press his contact. you turn to the other side of the bed, facing the walls - ironically maybe you are truly talking to a wall. you could scroll through the chats between you and itoshi sae and half of it would be one-sided conversations - whether that be you chatting about your day with no replies, good morning and good nights that are left unreciprocated, i love yous that are left with blue ticks.

time. time is cruel to you and sae you think - compared to the youthful and heart-pumping love you once shared of secret love whispers and letters in the classroom you were once familiar with just down the street of your house. you’ve changed a lot since the last time you saw him when he was just seventeen, coming back for the first time from overseas - you’ve cut your hair shorter than what he’s used to yet just enough for him to still comb through it as he’s always done in your memories, you’ve changed your fashion style, ironically more similar to his with his stylish sweaters, sunglasses you’ve bought with him at the thrift shop, shoes that reminds you of him, you’ve changed your room from the youthful polaroid filled room to a simple room walls clean of any identity or evidence of you. and youre sure time has been even more cruel - he’s changed since the last time you’ve met him - he’s grown a lot taller than the fourteen year old he was when he waved goodbye to you in the airport yet that eye full of affection still remained back then, he’s much more determined you think, no longer giving up after once or twice failures at. the claw machines you used to take him to during the weekends, and he’s much quieter than he used to be, even more stoic and colder than you’ve remembered the quiet lover that sits beside you during class. and you wonder how much more has he changed during these two years - you could guess though: even colder with lesser texts from him gradually day by day week by week until it’ll soon be too late, even quieter than you can get used to with little to no words to tell you anymore to fix this torn apart house of cards, and maybe this will be the year where he finally leaves.

grief is a natural process of life - death, lost passions, and torn-apart friendships. and you’re pretty sure youre at the acceptance stage of grieving over this fallen apart romance story. it was denial - making excuses for him when he stopped the daily greetings through texts and photos of new places he’s been, making excuses for him to your skeptical friends that has always been right to see without the tinted-rose glasses, making excuses for him so that just maybe he’ll come back. then it was anger: the one week you refused to text him or answer his calls although there wasn’t any to interact with in the first place - how could he abandon you like that? why can’t he care about this relationship just as much as i do? why is he being so selfish? why.. doesn’t he love me anymore - sadness. you’ve practically sobbed the next week or two away - has he fallen out of love? distance makes the heart grow fonder they say, but you think it has made itoshi sae forgot all about you, all about the memories you’ve shared, all about japan and the person he’s left behind. you hate the physical heartache you face as you look at photos of you and him from the past, hearing at the voice calls and voicemail he’s sent to you with that same familiar voice that seem to still make your heart flutter. you hate the physical memories of him that reminds you of him everywhere that makes your stomach churn - from the bus stop that you seem to always see the phantom of you and him sitting there just like before in that school uniform that hangs in your closet, from the sweater on your bed that still somehow smells like him that you’ve grown way too attached to, from the candy that’s sugary-sweet taste that burst in your mouth reminds you of eating the candy pack with him during lunch break on days too tired to walk down long stairs to get to the canteen. you hate the dreams of you and him - wearing the white cloth that covers your face walking down the aisle, wearing stupid matching christmas sweaters going down to eat dinner together just you and him, wearing that stupid paper rings that matches with his that youre sure is long gone in his pile of abandoned mess and trash in his life. yet youre persistent - you don’t think you’ve ever given up before, not for anything you wanted so desperately to stay - you work hard and get sort of good results so that you have something to share with him only to be met with a thumbs up reaction, you force yourself to desperately like just a little bit of his favourite drinks that burns under your tongue, even worse you’ve considered and calculated the amount of money and everything just to run over to spain to find him, to fix this torn-apart love story that youre so desperate to fulfill, to build back this house of cards that has long crumbled without you even noticing.

and now its 11:59. you know logically, you should at least give him a call, tell him happy birthday even if it goes to voice mail - because at the end of the day you love him, you can’t leave him the way he left you, and truly to the deepest part of your broken heart, you want his life to go right, you want him to achieve his dreams out there even if it’s without him, you want him to smile even if from a memory far too long for him to recount these days. and so you do, pressing that call button - but its selfish, deep. down perhaps you just want to hear his voice even if its prerecorded and laced with the same annoyance that pricks your heart slightly you try to says, perhaps you want it to hurt so you can stop lingering on this ghost of his and stop loving him when the ceiling of this house of cards have fallen and practically ripping apart at your heart and stomach, and perhaps you want to say one last farewell before you run away from this mess that you know deep down you’ve contributed to.

“hello?”

and yet its that stupidly sweet voice that replies back, one that makes your heart flutter, makes your ear turn pinkish red, makes your stomach burst with butterflies. oh youre sure its love, the same love that you’ve felt the first time you’ve held hands with him and felt electric coursed through your veins and verve’s, the same love you’ve felt when your lips melted perfectly into his like you were made for each other by the universe, the same love you’ve felt when he’s first made you that paper ring in the middle of science class before that match that changed the entirety of yours and sae’s life. and you think, if it means feeling this pumping of your heart as though youre on a rollercoaster, feeling this warmth that rises through your entire face, feeling the love from your legs through your head - you think its all worth it.

“happy birthday sae. i love you”

“… thanks. i love you too. i’m coming back tomorrow by the way, i’ll come over..?”

and just maybe, you can fix this house of cards with him. with him - not alone, but with him. and just maybe those phantoms of you and sae at that bus stop, on your bed in your bedroom, at yours and his favourite cafe wont be ghosts anymore.

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.” 

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 

“Where were you?” 

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–” 

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say. 

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 

“Then I wish you never took me in!” 

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Party Girl P - p.b

‣ Clingy Drunk Paige Bueckers x Reader (inspired by our favorite girl partying on Ice's live on 06/24/23)

‣ wc: 1476

‣‣ Synopsis: r and paige were roommates freshman year of college due to a mixup between the wbb team and wsoccer team and started their secret relationship as Paige recovered from her sophomore year injuries. (highkey might write more fics about this????) Up until now they've been able to keep their one-year ish relationship a secret, despite the rumors circulating the internet about the two of them.

‣‣‣ a/n: this is my first time writing a fic ESPECIALLY dialogue, not just on tumblr but like as a whole so any suggestions on my writing is highly welcome (you guys have no idea how hard x reader was to write because it was so confusing to write and kept breaking my brain bc i've NEVER done second pov) and also, the live’s timeline in this fic is not super accurate because it's lowk inspired by that one clip of paige and azzi maybe? kissing but i couldn’t find the whole video (i also just didn’t have the brainpower) so please bear w me 🙏🙏

You made your way over to Ice, leaning over shoulder with the sole intent of taking a sip of her drink. Before you could grasp the cup however, she slightly nudged you, drawing your attention to the live she had streaming from her phone.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t even notice yall, what’s up live,” You forgot about the drink as you rested your arm and chin on Ice’s shoulder, giving a small wave to greet the hundred people watching you from Ice’s screen. You were at Ted’s, the local bar, partying with the uconn women’s basketball team. Despite being part of the soccer team yourself, you were close friends with the entirety of the wbb team since your freshman year, growing even closer when you and Paige began dating last year.

You nodded your head and sang some of the lyrics to the music playing, silently reading the comments slowly rolling in and only addressing the more appropriate ones, despite being slightly tipsy you still had majority of your media training intact. You answered a few questions about random things while recharging your social battery with Ice, thanking those who gave compliments on your outfit or hair and stifling your laughs at the comments addressing Azzi drinking in the background or Paige yelling about shots.

Thinking of Paige, you realized you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a few minutes as you perked your head up to look for her.

The entire team knew the two of you were practically attached at the hip in general, making it nearly impossible for anyone to separate your drunk clingy selves from each other. You parted ways with Ice, wrapping your arm around the shoulder of your slightly taller girlfriend as you also reached for a shot off the bar top in front of the two of you.

Paige turned her head to the side as her arm wrapped around the sliver of exposed skin on your waist. "Hey baby I missed you" her slight intoxication showing in her voice as she leaned in to kiss your jaw in greeting. Her face was flushed and you could feel the heat radiating off her body as you settled into her embrace, her hair tickling the back of your neck as you conversed with the girls around you.

You remained in her arms for the short time you danced, sang, and drank with Paige, KK, Azzi, and Kayla, the younger girls hanging out on the other side of the bar with Aubrey, either on their phones or talking to each other as they weren’t old enough for the bar to serve them. You excused yourself from the group as you ordered a dirty shirley from the bar and made your way back over to Ice, wanting to rest your feet for a few moments and have your favorite drink in peace.

"Hey guys your favorite is back!" You weren't a lightweight by any means, usually being able to hold your drinks well, but the night had clearly made you a little louder and outgoing as you rapidly began flipping through random conversation topics with Ice and the live. It had only been a minute or two before you had exited the live's view after discarding your leather jacket over the chair and setting your drink on the table in front of you to head further in the corner of the bar to text a few of your soccer friends back on your phone as you leaned against the wall.

Paige came up behind Ice as she wrapped her arms around Ice's neck while singing to the phone, knowing that if you had removed yourself from the camera's view it was to have a few moments of peace and privacy while on your phone. She sang the rest of the song with Ice before leaving her to walk over to your standing figure, leaning against the wall next to you and pulling your body in front of her as you closed your phone and looked up at her. She wrapped her arms around your waist once again, but this time without your jacket acting as a barrier between your two bodies.

"Mmm, you smell so good baby," Paige mumbled as she laid sweet kisses up your neck, drawing small circles up and down your bare waist to your skirt-covered hip. Her small touches only added to the warm fuzzy feeling in your head, having you melt into her touch.

"Thank you P," you giggle softly while tilting your head slightly upwards so you could see her properly, "You having fun out there?" you smile at the grin that spreads across her face.

"It's been a while since we've all been able to go out together, it's nice spending time with everyone outside of practice, especially with you," she says the last part while gently knocking her forehead into yours.

It was true, the two of you had been so busy with your respective sports, finals, and social lives that you hadn't been able to go out and truly enjoy a stress and carefree night, especially considering the fact that your relationship was a secret to everyone outside of your teams and close friend group.

"Yeah well, we'll be able to spend a lot more time together now, starting tonight," you whisper into her suggestively while trying to contain your wide smile. Paige pulled back to allow her eyes to roam over your face before slowly trailing down the rest of your body.

"That, we most definitely will," She whispered back as she gripped your hips to pull you in for a slow and languid kiss, your hands automatically moving to rest one on her neck and one into her hair, kissing her back slowly.

"OH SHIT, I mean shoot, um anyways," The two of you pull back from your kiss at Ice's exclamation, looking over at her and Aubrey, who was now standing in the middle of you three, to see what was wrong. She muted the live and turned the camera over from her face as she waved you both over frantically. "I accidentally turned the camera to Aubrey and you guys were in the background but I don't think the live saw your guys's faces like actually kissing, it was mostly just paige's back and a bit of you and I'm not sure if," her frantic ramble continued on before you stopped her.

"It's fine, it's fine, if they didn't actually see my face and us two actually kissing it'll be fine, just ignore it," You reassured her, immediately feeling more sober than just a few minutes prior. "Paige and I will just go back over to some of the other girls and you can come over to us with the live to say bye and we'll just pretend it didn't happen okay?" You concluded to her while grabbing Paige's hand and interlinking your fingers.

"That's fine with you right P?" You turned to her, making sure she was okay with potentially just being outed on a tiktok live. "Yeah it's not a big deal, don't stress too hard Ice," she reassured while squeezing your hand. You walked away from your two friends hand in hand to stand at a quiet spot at the bar, making sure to double check again with Paige, but now without Ice and Aubrey present in the conversation.

"Are you sure you're alright Paige? I know you wanted to keep this a secret for a while longer and it's okay if you're not comfortable with our relationship being out in the open like this and," Paige cut you off before you could continue.

"Hey hey, as long as I'm with you, everything is okay," she looked you in the eye as she consoled you, "We can talk about what we wanna do about the public knowing moving forward, but for right now, I'm content just being here with you."

You smiled at her, your anxiety relieved that the incident wasn't something that would negatively impact the stability and peace your relationship with Paige had. You leaned forward into her body, allowing her arms to encircle you in a comforting and tight hug as she kissed the top of your head gently.

It was safe to say the rest of your time spent at the bar with Paige was more relaxing than before, the two of you swapping your drinks for water and replacing your energetic dancing for simply standing and spending time with the other girls. You both even made sure to reserve a small amount of distance between the your bodies when Ice had all of you say goodbye to her live. The team had all decided to pack up for the night shortly after, and you and Paige walked hand in hand together to your dorm, enjoying the cool breeze of the night.

thank you for reading all the way through and sorry if this was kinda booty i couldn't force myself to read all the way through and edit once i finished but i'm excited to keep writing and hopefully get better with each fic! also lmk if you guys wanna see more of this specific paige x reader prompt as mentioned at the top of the post!!!!

[benevolentbones]

jealous much? | spencer reid x reader

warnings: !! violent behaviour towards someone, bar fight, alcohol consumption and attempted drink spiking, swearing !! 15+ gender neutral reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: the team goes out to bar, and you bring a date with you..

to say spencer was mad was an understatement. his blood was practically boiling. his jaw tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. his sights were set dead ahead, on your form.

after a long case the team had decided the best way to celebrate would be going out to the bar for a few drinks, garcia’s suggestion of course.

this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the team would often go out together whether it was for dinner or just drinks, but what shocked everyone was when you showed up with a date.

“this is simon, hope you don’t mind that i brought him along” you had mused, when you had arrived to meet the team at the local bar they frequented.

the taller man was probably ten years older than you, his hair was blond and slicked back, and he had an arm slinked around your waist.

the team stood around the bar, some sets of eyes flickering from you to spencer, who stood glaring at the man beside you.

it wasn’t much of a secret that spencer reid had feelings for you, he’s had a thing for you ever since you joined the team over a year ago, and as profilers it wasn’t hard for the rest of the team to pick up on his crush.

what shocked everyone was the fact that they thought you also had feelings for spencer.

“yeah- no problem, im emily nice to meet you.” the dark haired woman smiled.

“i need a drink.” spencer muttered under his breath, turning to the bartender before he said something rude.

and that brings us to right now.

the team had been in the bar for an hour or so, a few rounds of shots had been given out and the majority of the team were on the dance floor. all aside from spencer and derek.

spencer could not take his eyes off of you for the life of him, and he felt physically sick at the sight.

emily, jj and penelope were dancing along side you as they usually did, and then there was your date, simon, who was glued to your form.

spencer hated the sight, every movement and touch threatened to spill up the four beers he had downed in the hour he was there.

“you good man?” derek leant against the bar, his voice laced with concern.

spencer took another swig of his beer, breaking his eye contact on you to look morgan in the face.

“i don’t know what they see in him, he’s fucking pathetic.” he mumbled out before turning back his attention on you.

the music blared over the speakers, the dance floor was covered in a crowd of people as you swayed your hips to the music, arms raised above your head. your date, in close proximity eyeing you up.

“jealous much?” morgan sipped at his glass of whiskey.

“what do you mean.” spencer’s body stiffened, he turned on his bar stool to face derek.

“man, it’s obvious you like them. why don’t you just say something.”

“i can’t just- they don’t like me like that.” spencer was growing increasingly frustrated.

“mm that’s not what they told me..” derek trailed off, downing the rest of his drink and heading off to the dance floor before spencer could get another word in.

this left the genius in a state of confusion, what had you said to derek? spencer turned back to his original position to people watch, scanning the crowd for you. but you were nowhere to be found.

“one coke please.” you shouted over the music to the bartender, now stood right next to spencer. and of course, simon was at your side.

“you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, spence.” you turned to him.

your hair was unruly, unlike how you usually kept it. there was a small sheen of sweat covering your skin, from your forty five minutes of straight dancing, the flickering lights causing it to glow.

“i’m just tired, that’s all y/n.” he mumbled back, barely audible over justin timblerlakes ‘sexy back’ that had begun playing.

you frowned slightly, your brows creasing as the bartender handed you your drink. you took a small sip, setting it down on the bar counter.

“well i hope you feel better soon.” you gave spencer’s bicep a reassuring squeeze. i’d feel better if you left with me he thought

then you turned to simon, who was standing slightly agitated at your lack of attention.

“would you watch my drink? i’m just going to go to the bathroom.” you smiled as he nodded, running off in the direction of the toilets.

spencer avoided eye contact, staring back into the dance floor to see garcia practically grinding against morgan. what a sight.

from the corner of his vision, spencer could see simon shuffle awkwardly, before dumping a powdery substance into your drink, stirring it with your straw.

immediately he saw red, leaping out of his seat.

“what the fuck did you just do?” he yelled, his voice an octave lower than usual.

simon fidgeted, a shocked expression on his average features, not expecting the sudden outburst.

“n-nothing man- i think you’ve had too much to drink.” he tried to play it off with a nervous chuckle but spencer was having none of it.

he whipped his arm around, picking up your glass of coke in one swooping motion and smashing it against the older males head.

the glass completely shattered, shards of glass and coke spilling all over the floor and the blond man who had now fallen to the floor.

this caught people’s attention, a group of girls to the right of spencer letting out a frightened scream.

“what the fuck?!” simon barked, bringing a hand to the side of his face that was now pouring blood.

spencer had now lunged at simon, grabbing the collar of his shirt with one hand and landing punch after punch to his already bloodied face.

the commotion had caught the rest of the team’s attention, derek had run over and practically yanked the younger man off of simon, who’s face was now bloodied and swollen.

“what the fuck reid?” derek shouted, earning a glare from spencer.

“he fucking tried to spike y/n.”

you had come back from the bathroom, not expecting the sight in front of you. you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, you eyes darting to spencer.

the brunette pulled away from derek’s hold, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his long hair hung over his face as he used a bloodied hand to push it away. his hard gaze met with yours, his hazel eyes immediately softening.

“get the fuck out.” the bartender yelled out, alerting the bouncers.

derek locked eyes with you, giving you a knowing look and you nodded. you grabbed spencer and ushered him out of the bar leaving derek to clean up the mess that was your date on the ground.

once you left the bar, the cold air hit you like a truck causing a shiver to escape your lips. spencer sat against the curb, resting his hands on his knees, avoiding your gaze.

“spence, what was that?” you questioned, a slight wobble to your voice.

“he’s a piece of shit, y/n.” he mumbled out, anger laced in his tone, his eyes locked on the ground.

you let out a frustrated sigh, noticing spencer’s busted knuckles, blood dripping from his hands. you knelt down in front of him, causing his eyes to dart up and meet yours.

“please, spence.” you reached out to cup his cheek.

“i couldn’t stand to see him with you, holding you- and on top of it all- he tried to spike you- i just couldn’t-“ he breathed out, inhaling through his nose as his face settled into your hand.

you felt both sick and relieved at the same time. you didn’t even like simon, he wasn’t who you wanted at all.

“oh spencer..”

“i couldn’t let him- i just snapped. i’m sorry.” he mumbled out, trying to avert his eyes.

“thank you.” you began, catching him off guard. “for doing all that, for me.”

“i- of course i would, i’d do anything for you.” his eyes flickered over your features, over your soft lips, back to your doe eyes.

you didn’t hesitate to press your lips against his, almost knocking him over. he immediately kissed back, wrapping his bloodied hands around your waist trying his best not to stain your shirt.

you ran your hands through his dark locks, feeling the heat from his cheeks against yours, curling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck.

you pulled away, a breathy gasp leaving your lips, pressing your forehead against his. he breathed out, resting his hands on your hips.

“y/n…” he spoke softly, swallowing hard.

“let me take you home, let’s clean up your hands okay?” you suggested, he nodded against your forehead before you pulled away, standing back on your feet.

you helped him up, wrapping your arm around his to avoid hurting his hands further.

“i really wanted that coke.” you pouted as you walked the taller man to your car, a chuckle escaping his lips and you shuffled side by side.

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

[fauvester]

shortening their parents already functionally immortal lives

THE PRINCES OF THE NORTH!

i thought my little moshang kid could benefit from a baby brother

[ones-g]

Tense?

Dom!Caitlyn Kiramman x F!Reader.

Warning: Sex Public!, sex toy!, Curses.A bit soft at first!

Summary: Your girlfriend is stressed out from her exhausting job as an executive in the eye of the nation. You decide to handle the situation by surprising her in her office. A little break never hurts anyone, right?

—Uh no... Jayce listen I have plans today, leave the package at the front door okay?... Ok bye!— Your voice sounded hurried, somewhat calm and without ups and downs when answering a recent call from your childhood friend (it was already your habit to roll your eyes when hearing his voice).

The reason for your way of rushing things was simple, Caitlyn, your girlfriend, had spent days in her office looking for some useful trace to find and corner the most wanted criminal in the nation. Nothing made her leave her office. At first you gave her space, but the days passed, being incommunicado was overwhelming, of course you knew how important her work was, but you also knew how important her mental health and needs.

So you took your car and determinedly began to drive to where she was, her office and unit. It was clear that it was going to be a surprise, Cait rarely allowed you to visit her at her workplace, it was not to hide something from you (like a deception or something) she just thought that that place was not the best to see each other, there were tense situations, the atmosphere was heavy and believe, she hates criminals who dared to speak to you or make rude comments towards you while they were waiting to be thrown into the dungeons.

For those reasons and others you decided to keep your visit a secret, you had access to her office even if she wasn't there, you are HER woman, she made that clear in a thousand ways (yes, imagine that). You bit your lip as you looked down, seeing again the clothes you chose for the occasion. A simple and perfect black office skirt with a silk shirt (a gift from Caitlyn), a pair of black and formal high platform heels. But beneath this disguise of "decent and attentive girlfriend" was the true intention. Your new lingerie covered your intimate parts and Caitlyn adored them. Since she was absent, she couldn't properly enjoy how that detailed lingerie looked on your body. ¡Dammit! You wanted so much to see her expression when she saw you in the outfit.

After an eternity you finally arrived at the district parking lot. A couple of guards recognized you and immediately bowed their heads in greeting, maintaining respect. You sighed, somewhat nervous and super anxious. The doors opened for you, the secretary looked at you with a smile, she looked so tired. You murmured a cordial greeting and walked to the elevators, being alone you decided to apply more lipstick on your lips, touch up your hair in front of the elevator mirror and unbutton only two buttons on your shirt.

—Perfect...— You whispered looking from head to toe, the elevator door opened revealing the floor where the Kiramman heiress' office was located.

In front of his office, you hesitated whether to knock or just walk by as if nothing had happened. Of course, you opted for the second option.

—Get out— Your girlfriend's intimidating‐hoarse voice exploded in your ears. Caitlyn didn't even lift her head to see who it was, she just "subtly" asked him to go away.

—Are you kicking me out without even saying hello? - You responded, closing the office door, leaning your back against it while still smiling at the taller woman.

Her head snapped up as she recognized your voice, her hand resting on the top of her head slamming down on her desk. Caitlyn opened her mouth but didn't say a word, though the smile growing on her face at the sight of you couldn't be ignored. "What are you doing here..?." She whispered, getting up from her large chair and walking towards you in disbelief.

—You know, I came to see how you were doing—you answered, looking around her office, the papers scattered all over the place, the dust and the little light that filtered through the closed curtains left signs that the place had not been tidy since Caitlyn decided to stay.

The blue haired girl raised an eyebrow, her uniform shirt was rolled up to her elbow, her hair was parted in the middle and tied in a ponytail, her tired and almost dead eyes due to the black bags hanging from them were impossible to miss. —Is it wrong that I think you're hot when I see you like this?— you asked placing your arms on her shoulders, Caitlyn instead held your waist, laughing at what was said.

—I'm so glad you're here... sorry for not spending time with you— She apologized, resting her forehead against yours, feeling the warmth of her body again was something that made you happy, you didn't want to separate from her.

—You don't have to apologize for anything— you replied, giving her a kiss on the tip of her nose. —Did you miss me? — you asked, looking her straight in the eyes, with a certain mischievous glint in them.

—I think about you every day—She whispered with his face buried in his lover's neck, inhaling her fresh and addictive scent. —I think about what you do when you wake up alone in our bed... I think about wanting to hug you and never let go, I think about kissing you as soon as you open your eyes... I miss being present in the house so much, darling— She whispered with a hint of guilt in his voice.

—Maybe you should stop talking and kiss me more...—

—Maybe you should sit on my lap and be quiet...— She murmured, his thumb tracing the shape of your lip, adoring it. "Maybe" You grimaced, your already dilated pupils exposing the level of lust you had at this moment. Caitlyn smiled arrogantly.

—Huh... it's new ? I remember breaking the old one— She recalled running his hand along the strap of your provocative bra, his eyes fixed on your breasts.

"Don't even think about breaking it," you threatened. Caitlyn stepped back with her hands in the air. —I'm not promising anything—

She rolled his eyes and moved closer again. "If I have to rip your panties off to silence your moans I will do it without hesitation..." She whispered against your ear, his hot breath making your skin crawl. —Let me spoil each other, okay baby?—

Caitlyn smirks as she feels your body trembling under her touch, your moans muffled by her hand over your mouth. She loves seeing you like this - helpless and desperate for her.

"Shhh, keep it down," she whispers sternly, even as her fingers continue their relentless assault on your sensitive folds. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear what a needy little slut you are for me, would we?"

Her words drip with condescension and you feel a shameful thrill run through you at being put in your place like this. Caitlyn is in complete control and you are utterly at her mercy.

She leans in close, her breath hot against your ear as she murmurs, "You're mine. My pretty little fucktoy to use however I want. And right now, I want to make you cum so hard you forget your own name."

To punctuate her point, Caitlyn curls her fingers just right, hitting that special spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. Your hips buck involuntarily as you let out a strangled gasp, barely stifled by her palm.

She chuckles darkly, clearly reveling in your predicament. "That's it, take it like a good girl. Cum for me"

Her commanding tone brooks no argument. With a keening whimper, your body obeys, clenching tight around Caitlyn's fingers as an intense orgasm crashes over you. She works you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you collapse back against the desk, boneless and spent.

Caitlyn slowly withdraws her hand, bringing her slick fingers to her lips to lick them clean with a satisfied hum. "Mmm, you taste divine. I could do this all day..."

Caitlyn takes a moment to admire the sight before her - you sprawled out on her desk, chest heaving and skin flushed with post-orgasmic bliss. A wicked grin spreads across her face as she leans down to whisper in your ear.

"But we're not done yet, sweetheart. That was just the warm-up."

Caitlyn hums approvingly at the sight of your glistening folds, already swollen and sensitive from your recent climax. She runs a finger teasingly along your slit, collecting the slick arousal there before bringing it to her mouth to taste.

"Fuck...," she purrs, eyes dark with lust. "I could eat this pretty pussy all day and never get tired of it."

True to her word, Caitlyn settles between your legs, pushing your thighs further apart to give herself better access. She starts slow, lapping at your entrance with long, broad strokes of her tongue before focusing her attention on your clit.

The feeling is almost too much, your nerves still raw from your previous orgasm. You squirm and whimper under her ministrations, your hands fisting in her hair.

Caitlyn just chuckles against your skin, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. She redoubles her efforts, alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks, determined to work you up into a frenzy once more.

You can feel another orgasm building, coiling tight in your belly as Caitlyn drives you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you think you can't take any more, she pulls back, leaving you aching and empty.

She grins up at you, her lips and chin glistening with your juices. "Not yet, baby. We have all afternoon and I plan to make the most of it."

"Look at you," she murmurs huskily, "So desperate for me, so needy. I love seeing you like this. Completely at my mercy."

"I'm going to fuck you now, baby. Nice and slow, until you're begging me for release. And then I'm going to do it all over again."

She turns to one of her drawers, finding a damn vibrator

Caitlyn returns with the vibrator, switching it on to a low hum. She trails it teasingly along your inner thigh, the buzzing sensation making your skin tingle and jump.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," she commands, her voice low and rough with desire. You comply eagerly, opening yourself up to her completely.

She rewards you by dragging the tip of the toy along your slick folds, circling your clit before plunging it deep inside you. Your back arches off the desk at the sudden intrusion, a choked moan escaping your lips.

Caitlyn sets a slow, deliberate pace, withdrawing the vibrator almost completely before thrusting it back in. Each stroke brushes against that sensitive spot inside you, stoking the fire building in your core.

Her free hand comes up to play with your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between her fingers. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second.

Just as you're about to tumble over, Caitlyn cruelly pulls the vibrator out, leaving you empty and aching. She flips the switch to a higher setting and presses it firmly against your clit, the intense vibrations making you see stars.

"Look at you, so desperate for me. So hungry for my touch." She grinds the toy against you, her other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.

Her words are your undoing. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashes over you, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumes you. Caitlyn works you through it, the vibrator never stilling until the last aftershock passes.

Finally, she turns the toy off and sets it aside, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, the flavor heady and intoxicating.

Caitlyn pulls back from the kiss, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. She takes a moment to admire the sight before her - you sprawled out on her desk, chest heaving and skin flushed with post-orgasmic bliss.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come for me," she murmurs, trailing her fingers lightly over your trembling body. "I could watch you fall apart over and over again."

She sits back in her chair, spreading her legs wide in clear invitation. —Come here beautiful... use that little mouth—

[miupow]

「 ♫ 」 ── 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

you hated minho with everything you had, but you just couldn't stop yourself from coming back for more again and again... he was just so sexy when he was jealous, and no one else made you feel the way he did.

PAIRING ── lee know x fem!reader

RATING ── NSFW, MDNI !

WARNINGS ── college au, fwb!minho, frat boy!skz, toxic and possessive behavior, jealousy, he’s very mean in this im ngl, oral (m. rec), face-fucking, dirty talk, mean dom!lino, degredation kink and name-calling, humiliation kink, slut-shaming, facials, non-consentual photo-taking, i really mean it guys lino is not a good guy

WORDS ── 1.8k

A/N ── an old deleted work i've rewritten for toxic sneaky link minho hehe >< hope you enjoy!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you ♡

taglist: @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @linocz , @skzooluvr

Minho's white-knuckle grip on your wrist was bruising, his blunt nails threatening to leave little stinging crescents dug into your skin-- you bit your lip to mask your giddy, triumphant smile as he tugged you into the spare bathroom, dragged you through the pulsating crowd as you tripped over your strappy heels. He only let go of you to slam the door shut and lock it swiftly behind him, his wild, firey eyes and grit-tooth scowl melting away to the bored and emotionless glare you were all to familiar with. It pierced through your vodka-soaked confidence in an instant, sent you reeling and scrambling for words to say as a dull throbbing took ahold at the base of your wrist, just over your pulse point. The flourescent lights of the bathroom made your eyes sting, too adjusted to the dark of the party outside-- it just made you struggle even more to look Minho in the eye. He always made you feel so small, towering over you and looking down at you as if you were nothing at all... and you hated it more than anything.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you spat, rubbing your wrist, fighting to keep your strength as you leveled with his gaze. It wasn't like you to hold your ground like this-- you can tell it throws Minho off, pisses him off even further as he bullies his way into your personal space. The music that had been nearly deafening just moments before had been muffled into obscurity, stripped away to a booming bassline that nearly shook the floor; it reverberated through your body still, a thrumming under your skin that left you restless, nervous. Minho could read it all over your face.

“Excuse me?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed back venomously, taller frame advancing on you quickly. His arms come to brace themselves on either side of you, effectively trapping you against the sink-- he crowds your vision, his warm breath fanning across your face, and you try desperately to look anywhere except into his deep dark eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—" you began, as sturdy as you could, but Minho's rough, humorless laugh cuts you off. His hands grip either side of the sink with force, and you can see the veins in his forearms ripple under the fabric of his rolled-up jacket sleeves.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” there was something all too familiar about this, Minho’s voice poisoning and dripping with something that makes your thighs shake and rub together— those long fingers you came to hate and adore grabbed ahold of your chin, squeezing your plush cheeks together as he forced your eyes to meet his. a broken, barely-there whimper sneaks it’s way past your pursed lips. “Are you trying to piss me off? Is that it? Whoring around with other guys right in fucking front of me?!”

“We were just talking—“

Minho sneers. “Sure you were, rubbing up all over him and talking all sweet while dressed like a fuckin’ slut.”

He spits the words out like it was a nasty secret, jolting through you with a sickening shock— your cheeks flush hot between Minho’s cold fingers, your panties growing damp embarrassingly quickly, molded to your wet pussy folds… you loved it when Minho was jealous, loved how to see just how nasty you would make him when you hit him where it hurt.

And maybe you loved it because it proved to you, in some sick, backwards way, that Minho even cared about you at all.

“I’m not dressed like a whore,” you retort weakly, sounding far more petulant and pathetic than you meant to.

“Are you kidding me? Fucking look at you, shit. So damn beautiful. I can’t stand it.”

Minho let go of your face and backed away to take in your skin-tight dress, picked with care for the stupid frat party he had pulled you away from, the one that you didn't even want to go to— your hands twitched with the urge to cross your arms, hide and protect yourself in some way from Minho's piercing stare. Your little red dress barely covers the tops of your thighs, thin gold necklace sitting pretty just above the cleavage of your plush tits, spilling out over a push-up bra. Your outfit is complete with deep crimson lipstick painted on your quivering lips— Minho stared at them, wild and hungry, and it takes everything you have not to moan aloud.

"Slutty girl," Minho hummed, hand sliding up to caress at your exposed thigh. “So desperate for my attention… Gotta go whore yourself out so you can get put back in your fucking place? Remind you who you belong to?"

"I don't belong to you." You snapped. "We're not together, Minho-- you don't get to act like this when I see you with a different girl every week."

Minho just laughed, mean and ugly and right in your face, grabbing a rough handful of your thigh and squeezing. "Oh yeah?" he goads, the smirk on his lips doing little to hide the rage in his eyes. "You’re the one who keeps coming back for more, baby— just can’t live without this cock, huh? Constantly telling me it's over then crawling back into my bed. you’re not my girl but that pussy’s mine.”

"Fuck you," you spat, tears in your eyes.

Minho grinned venomously, opening up a pit in your stomach; his thumb ghosted across your skin, inched it's way underneath your dress, leaving a line of fire in it's wake. "Yeah, I know you want to."

You whimpered, torn halfway between pushing him off of you and begging for his touch-- the latter wins, despite all of your anger, your conflicted feelings. It always does. "please, Min--" you plead, desperate and wobbly, unsure of what you're even begging for.

"Get on your knees."

And like the slut you are, your knees hit the cold tile floor without any protest.

You were met immediately with the sight of Minho’s hard on, the outline of his thick cock straining the fly of his jeans. "'Atta girl,” Minho hummed, his voice low, one hand coming to cup your head and the other reaching to fumble with his belt. He looks his prettiest like this, you think, towering above you. Commanding attention and respect, no matter how lowly he treated you. He tugged his belt open, leaves it dangling from his belt loops, quick and rough in unzipping his fly; your mouth watered, eyes wide and hazy as you watch him pull his stiff cock out of his boxers, his shaft slapping obscenely against his belly. “Gonna fuck your face, gonna ruin that pretty throat— open wide, baby.”

His cock was flushed pretty pink and leaking precum, flared tip shiny and throbbing, begging for your tongue— you wasted no time to trail chaste kitten licks over the dripping slit, relish in the way Minho’s breath hitches from the feeling, his fingers tangling in your hair. You closed your eyes in rapture, lose yourself in the salty, bitter taste of his shaft… and Minho grunted low in his throat, tightened around a fistful of your hair and pulled you back off his dick harshly, shaking you out of your reverie and knocking you nearly on your ass in surprise.

“Said I was gonna fuck your throat, stupid bitch. Open your fucking mouth and stop teasing.”

Rougher than usual, he pushed you back to take his cock into your mouth, shoved you all the way down to his twitching balls. You gagged violently, tears collecting in your lash lines. “There we go,” Minho hissed, the hand in your hair rubbing soothingly over your burning scalp. “Take it like a good girl.”

He began to thrust into your throat in true earnest, uncaring for your comfort, heavy balls slapping against your chin in a dizzying rhythm— your whines and whimpers were muffled by his cock, nasty wet noises filling the bathroom as your boyfriend uses you like a toy; the perfect backing vocals for the slow song playing outside. “Shit!” Minho whined, his hips stuttering, your nose bumping up against his pelvis— your lips left smeared red marks along his shaft and the base of his dick, and some sick satisfaction bubbles up inside of you, makes you smile around the cock fucking your throat open; while Minho ruins your makeup, leaves you gasping, drooling and choking, you’re marking him up too. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl--!"

Your pussy throbbed, empty and aching, and it registered somewhere in the back of your mind that you were crying, hot tears and ruined mascara streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minho fucked your face. "I'm-- shit, I'm gonna cum! Gonna take it, yeah? Gonna make everyone know you're mine, all mine-- fuck, 'm cumming--!"

Your eyes rolled back in delight, pretty painted mouth opening impossibly wider in preparation to take his load, but it never came— to your shock and awe, Minho pulled you off of his cock with a sickening pop, just seconds before rope after rope of hot, thick semen shoots all over your face. On your nose, cheeks, chin, some droplets falling on the flat of your tongue— you moaned at the taste despite the abject horror settling in your chest. And you watch, wide eyed and too dazed and dizzy to fight back, as Minho pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you. He smirked down at his phone screen before turning it around for you to see.

You were a mess. Your hair was disheveled, tangled everywhere from Minho’s hands. Your makeup was ruined, all over your face in tear-stained streaks... your face was pink and blotchy, shiny with splatterings of Minho’s cum, and your lipstick was smeared across your cheek, nearly to your ear. You gasped, frozen in place, unable to react any other way... Minho's smirk broke into a laugh, hollow and evil and eating you alive.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?” Minho snickered, sliding his phone back in his back pocket. "Might just have to show you off-- such a pretty picture deserves to be shared, don't you think?"

He’s quick to tuck his soft— still lipstick stained— cock back into his jeans and buckle back up his belt, fix his hair in the mirror. He looks a little sweaty but otherwise well-kept, and you wish now that you had kissed him more, marked up his face and neck with lipstick too and not just his dick, when you had the chance. "Clean yourself up, won’t you? You look like a mess.” 

And with that, Minho unlocked  the door and stepped  out of the bathroom, shutting it behind him with a dull click.