#I receive so many asks every day. I am on my hands and knees. I am up to my ears in desperate cries.

[cowgirlvi]

mdni.   cam-girl jinx.   loser-ish reader.   sex toys.   squirting. based off this ask.

wc; 1,476

you make sure to get home from work most days at precisely 5:00 PM—enough time to wash off the dirt and grime of the day in a quick shower, throw together a rushed meal, and settle in front of your computer by 6:30. your routine is second nature by now, the anticipation building as you watch the minutes tick by before jinx appears on screen.

jinx streams every other day, always at the same time, and you're careful never to be late. the moment her stream goes live, the screen fills with a warm glow. it illuminates her petite frame as she sits on her bed, poised and teasing. tonight, she wears a dark brown leather belt across her chest, cinched just enough to lift her small breasts, showing off her blue cloud tattoos. the worn leather is barely covering the soft, pink shade of her tiny nipples.

she has such a thin piece of fabric decorating her hips that you wouldn’t have even noticed it, if not for the way the black, lacy thong contrasts against her pale skin. she’s striking—utterly mesmerizing—and every movement is deliberate as she shifts, adjusting herself before flashing a sly smile at the camera.

the chat chirps with excitement when she leans in, offering a loud, enthusiastic greeting to her supporters. there’s an undeniable, mischievous confidence in the way she carries herself—a playful allure mixed with an effortless intimacy that only strokes the flames of your parasocial relationship with her.

heartseekerjinx: hi gorgeous!!!

spaceprincessjinx: you look so sexy, jinx <3

user3263288412: give us a show already.

jinx’s stream requires a hefty membership access fee, but you’d pay anything just to see her.

“hmmm,” she trails her fingers down the taut, creamy skin of stomach until they reach her panties. she toys with the lacy hem, saying, “i’ve been needing to play with my pussy all day . . . but i was waiting for you.”

you gasp. it feels like she’s speaking to you directly. you know you must stand out to her the most compared to her other subscribers, with the way you spam her with donations, flooding her chat with desperate compliments. she has to remember you.

you unbutton your jeans hurriedly, pushing your pants down your thighs and then you stuff your hand inside your underwear. you’re completely soaked already, as if jinx put a spell on you—on all her viewers. that would explain the all-consuming loyalty you feel towards her.

jinx plucks a sleek, blue vibrator from her toy basket, the one that’s directly attached to her many donations, where each contribution controls its intensity. it might be your favorite toy of hers. you enjoy the way her viewers can set the pace—how you can set the pace. of course, you love watching her stuff monstrous dildos inside her pussy too, but there’s something so intimate about being the one to force her to feel good, despite the distance between you two.

jinx plants her feet on the bed, spreading her knees. she turns the toy on, and then she hooks a finger in the crotch of her thong, pulling the thin frantic to the side so hundreds of eyes can see her glistening, pink pussy. she rubs the vibrator against her clit for a moment, groaning softly at the stimulation, and then pushes the bean-shaped toy inside her hole.

”oh fuck, look how wet i am for you,” jinx whines, staring up at the webcam. she looks tantalizing from underneath her thick lashes.

biting your lip in anticipation, you donate $20 without a second thought—just enough to speed up the vibrations of the toy slightly. jinx gasps on screen, surprised that she received a donation so quickly. she leans in to read off her computer screen, recognizing your username instantly and snickering.

purring your display-name like a cat, she says, “thank you, mydarlingjinx. you always take, ahh, such good care of me.”

you feel an immense sense of pride fill your chest. you love taking care of jinx, making her feel good, and you wish you could take things further. you often fantasize about laying her up in your bed, pulling off the skimpy clothes adorning her body, rubbing your hands all across her smooth skin, playing with her small breasts.

you know you could make her feel so good, stuffing her full of dildos and other phallic-shaped objects from her toy box, playing with every single one of her holes like you know she needs, pushing her to the brink of pleasure in ways that would leave her crying. her box of toys is filled with possibilities, each one capable of pulling the sweetest reactions from her. you can picture it so clearly; the way she'd squirm as you explore every inch of her skin—teasing, stretching, biting, filling. she craves it, you know she does—her slutty body was made for this sort of thing.

the speed of the toy is relatively fast now, but jinx keeps her composure—or at least, she tries to. she continues flirting with the camera, dedicated to keeping her supporters entertained. “unnghh—do you like watching me play with my pussy? i bet, ahh, you’re touching yourself too, huh?”

your breath hitches. it feels like a direct challenge, one you’re all too eager to accept. you type a quick response in chat, confirming her suspicions, and she giggles, her laughter raspy and sweet.

mydarlingjinx: yes you look so cute jinx!

”i knew it,” she coos. “i wish you were here—mmgh! you’d feel so much better—aghh—than this dumb toy.”

holy shit.

your pulse pounds in your ears. she wishes you were touching her, that you were the one making her feel this good. it’s almost too much for you to handle. your fingers fumble over your keyboard as you send another donation, barely registering the amount before the confirmation pops up. you're not the only one—her other viewers flood the chat with their own desperate contributions, the collective need to see her fall apart pushing the toy's vibrations even higher.

”unghh! please, ohh, slow down—i can’t t-take it, mmmf!” jinx squeals, which only entices you to send another donation.

her magenta eyes are trying to flutter closed and it seems like she can barely keep her legs open, but she has to give her viewers a show—it’s what they paid for, after all. so she hooks her elbows under her knees, forcing her legs to stay spread open so everyone can see the way her sweet pussy is gushing more and more arousal out of her little hole, trailing down to her heart-shaped ass.

her makeup is ruined—messy, dark eyeshadow running down her face, black cherry lipstick smudged around her chin, her tongue lolling out like a dumb dog. she looks completely debauched, and yet, she pushes herself further. 

your fingers are moving with newfound desperation inside your underwear, awestruck by the sight of jinx unraveling. every labored breath, every twitch of her delicate frame is a testament to just how close she is to reaching her breaking point, how desperate her pussy is to finally orgasm, to release more heavenly juices from her hole—and it’s all because of you.

the realization is dizzying, a fire pooling deep in your stomach as you drink in the sight of how utterly ruined and overwhelmed your girl is.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—!” jinx is repeating like a mantra, her raspy voice hitching with every syllable. “baby, ohh, i’m coming—hngggf!”

and then she goes crosseyed, nails digging into the skin of thighs hard enough to make her bleed. her back arches as she tips over the edge, pushing out her perky tits further. jinx squirts harshly from her pussy and you can see the powerful contractions of her hole as it pushes the blue toy out.

the vibrator falls onto the plush sheets of jinx’s bed with a bounce, but her orgasm continues. she’s trembling, her skin is clearly buzzing with electricity, and you think she looks like an angel.

the sight of her—shaking like a leaf and moaning whorishly—completely undoes you. heat coils tightly in your core before snapping like a rubber band all at once. a deep, shuddering wave of pleasure rolls through your entire body, your muscles tense and your fingers clenching as your breath catches in your throat. the intensity of your orgasm leaves you momentarily weightless. a full-body shiver overtakes you, every nerve alight with warmth and satisfaction.

your mind turns hazy, the world around you blurring until all that remains is her—jinx, who is sprawled out against her plush bedsheets, her chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, and her lips parted in a lazy, drunk smile.

jinx came because of you, and you because of her. it’s irrevocably intimate and she has no idea.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala, @ellieslob, @idontwannabehereatm, @rhian88, @kyur1jinx, @vivispace, @girlbeatings

(2/11/25)

[hirayalore]

Hi :) Can you read "Sirius Black x Mudblood!Slytherin fem!reader" story. It can also be platonic because of the home and blood status of the reader.

Thank you already

[ sirius black x slytherin!reader | fluff | 2.9k words ]

note. hehehe made a few alterations so that it’d make sense why the reader is put into slytherin despite being “muggle-born” since i don’t think a muggle-born would be placed in the said house (i blame my brain for being too invested that i can’t let it pass hsdjhsjdh).

this is also kinda unedited (unfortunately i too am lazy) and went way longer than intended because i couldn’t resist putting in a little backstory!!! ALSO did i mention that this sirius has me on my knees??????

Everybody always wondered how the Sorting Hat decided to put you in Slytherin.

In their eyes and in their mind, you were a Muggle-born—a filthy Mudblood—the exact kind of wizard that Salazar Slytherin detested and insisted not to invite in Hogwarts during its establishment.

Even now when it has been 7 years since the sorting ceremony, you could feel the curious eyes of everybody in the Great Hall whenever it was hard to sleep, could hear how those Slytherins murmured amongst themselves and asked which family you belonged, taking into consideration that the last name you bore didn’t sound familiar nor seemed like it came from the Sacred Twenty-Eight to be worthy of being part of their Hogwarts house.

But what they weren’t aware of—and what you only came to discover yourself many years later during adulthood—is that you actually came from an ancient and noble pure-blood family, a lineage that was acclaimed to be one of the oldest wizarding clans in Britain until its believed downfall in the late 1950s.

It was just that your parents, who have died for a reason that remained to be unknown (yet believed to be the cause of the Dark Lord), left you at the doorstep of an unsuspecting Muggle family just days before their passing, believing that you were safer at the hands of the non-magic folk.

They were right, of course. The Muggle family that raised you did their best in making sure that you were loved and cherished in every way possible. Hence when you received your Hogwarts letter at the age of 11, although they were confused as you were, they did the best they could to support you and lead you to the world they were convinced you always belonged in.

But contrary to your real parents who had great judgment in bringing you to a loving Muggle home, your Muggle parents were misled to think that it would be good for you to be with others like your kind, oblivious to the discrimination and hatred that you faced for merely growing up with non-wizards.

“That’s my seat, Mudblood,” Mallory Flint practically hissed at you upon finding you in the common room, reading on one of the leather sofas with the thought that you could have some peace and quiet even for a day.

You sighed, closing your book.

At this point, you were smart enough not to fight back and give people like Mallory the satisfaction of being affected by their harsh treatment.

However, as you stood up and attempted to walk past her, she grabbed your arm, holding you in place. “You have something you want to say to me, ____?” she taunted, smirking. “You look angry ‘cause I’m making you leave.”

You press your mouth together, your teeth gritting in self-restraint. “No, I’m not angry.”

Her smirk transformed into a sneer. “Is that so?” she said. “Good then–because you should really know by now that there’s no place for people like you here in Slytherin. Or perhaps do you still need a reminder? A little knock on the head to help you with what you’re always forgetting?”

At the word ‘knock’, Mallory tapped your head with the tip of her wand, leaving a slight sting that you couldn’t pretend didn’t exist.

You bit the insides of your cheeks, a scowl casting your features that she noticed.

She raised her eyebrows, understanding now what ticked you off, and without hesitating, tapped your head again, this time harder.

“Seemed like you do need a few little knocks to get your brain working. Must be due to being a Mudblood and all.”

Her minions laughed at the statement, the obnoxious and annoying sound of their laughter leading you to grow more pissed off than you should be.

It must have been that, and your impatience this evening—and the way Mallory didn’t stop sputtering nonsense, and how the initial peace you thought you were granted earlier was stolen, that brought you to abruptly whip your wand out at the motion of her attempting to hit your head again.

She paused, scoffing, eyes growing darker at the manner in which you pointed it in her direction in warning. “You sure you want to do that, ____?”

At your silence, she gave you another sneer and another hard knock.

On the forehead.

You no longer thought twice, your hand was already moving before you could properly think.

With a quick swish of your wand and a whispered incantation, a hex was sent to Mallory’s direction, hitting her on the front of her face and giving her a minor whiplash. 

“Bloody—” She began to scream in disbelief at your audacity, but her words cut off as her tongue started to change, elongating and hardening into a horn. It gave her the unsettling appearance of a twisted Pinocchio—only instead of an abnormally long nose, it was her tongue that had transformed.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the ridiculousness of how she looked.

But then Mallory’s friends turned to you (after fussing over their leader who was now red in the face and throwing some sort of tantrum), and you were immediately reminded that this standoff wasn’t over unless they already had their revenge.

So, in sudden fear for your life, you sprinted out of the Slytherin common room as fast as you could, hearing their footsteps follow after you with an even faster speed to catch up.

You had no idea where to go, and you were sure that it was past curfew already given the empty hallways that you darted past through. You kept on thinking of places to hide, of vacant classrooms you could run into for the meanwhile, yet given how your mind was in shambles and playing a loop of Mallory’s tongue turning into a frightening horn, you just couldn’t identify where the best hiding spot could be.

That is until you turned to the left corridor of the seventh floor and spotted a massive door you didn't recall ever seeing, its sight urging you to come closer and come in.

You took a pause, contemplating if it was wise to go inside a room you had a strange feeling about, but at the sound of your bullies’ footsteps getting louder, you deduced that you had no choice and grabbed the door handle, no time for second-guessing.

Quickly stepping inside, you tried to lock the door to prevent them from coming in if ever they realize that this is where you must have gone to. 

However, such measures didn’t need to be done because as soon as you were in the darkly lit room, catching your breath and making sense of what was happening—the door began to slowly deteriorate in front of you, slowly being absorbed in the wall and vanishing subsequently.

“Shite,” you whispered, panic bubbling in your system at the realization that you might be trapped here for the whole night.

You took a step back, examining the entirety of the wall, trying to see something that wasn’t there to help you with your case. But there was nothing, only granite or stale or whatever material it was that these stones were made of. 

“It’ll come back,” a sudden drawling voice interrupted your inner turmoil and made you freeze on the spot. “I’d say give it a few minutes or so.”

You swiveled around almost immediately, alerted by the presence of another person in this makeshift sanctuary the castle made for you. 

The moment you did, your gaze landed ahead to where a boy with dark mid-length hair was leaning forward against the balcony, his back turned to you. You couldn’t see his features clearly, even when he moved his head to the side to reveal a cigarette between his lips—yet the moment he looked in your direction and your eyes met, it dawned on you who this boy was.

Sirius Black, one of the four infamous troublemakers in Gryffindor.

You blinked in surprise while he kept his eyes locked on you, blowing a ring of smoke in the air with unusual ease.

The both of you have never interacted before despite being in the same batch and a few classes since first year. You were sure that the reason behind that was perhaps his great hatred towards Slytherins, as you were no stranger to how he often delivered biting remarks towards Severus Snape and yelled insults to your house at every acceptable opportunity he could find (e.g. Quidditch matches).

Nonetheless, you’ve always been silently thankful that his annoyance towards Slytherin never extended to you, as you reckoned you were already suffering enough with the majority of your housemates alone to deal with another menace like himself.

“I hope you’re not planning to stand there all evening,” he said.

At his comment, you forced yourself to march towards the balcony, not knowing how you should approach this peculiar situation. A part of you was convinced that being here was no better than being out there, but the other part was telling you that Sirius hasn’t hexed you yet so that must be a good sign.

When you reached the balcony, the cool air greeted you and tossed your hair back in the breeze. You squinted a bit, brushing aside the slight burning sensation it gave your eyes, and took in the beauty of the night horizon. You didn’t even think Hogwarts offered such a view, maybe due to how your common room was in dungeons and you were far too much of a coward when it came to extreme heights to reward yourself with this kind of scenery.

You could see the school grounds, the distant ridges of the Scottish Highlands… the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Pitch, the Black Lake that appeared serene in the moonlight…  

“Wow,” you breathed out, not realizing that you said it loud enough for Sirius to hear.

He glanced at you. Then, his hand suddenly stretched closer to where you were, offering a cigarette with a casual gesture. “You seem like you need it.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Regardless, you took the stick from his possession.

Sirius waited, staring, and upon feeling like you were left with no option but to finish what you started, you hesitantly took a drag, inhaling far too quickly that as soon as the smoke entered your lungs, you were coughing it out—your throat burning and eyes watering alongside it.

A smirk flickered across his face. “You’ve never done that before,” he said, his tone making it very apparent that he was stating a fact and not asking for a confirmation.

You urged him to reclaim the cigarette with haste, still coughing while also fanning the smoke away. “Merlin, why do you lot—” cough, cough— “enjoy that? It’s like gulping down a mouthful of dragon's breath!”

“It can be therapeutic.” He brought it again to his lips and drew deeply on the cigarette, releasing a slow puff of smoke. “And you should have told me you’ve never smoked before. Peer pressure isn’t exactly my style.”

“I wanted to give it a go.”

“Which clearly, you hated.”

“Clearly.” You were still coughing, your mouth awfully tasting like ash. 

Sirius grinned. “Well, at least you know better than to take a cigarette without knowing how to smoke next time.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

He watched in obvious amusement as you continued to cough, looking like you wished you could conjure water or whatever it was that would help the itching that you were still feeling inside your throat to go away. It was unlike you to go head on with something so unfamiliar and so… unorthodox as smoking, but there must have been something with the already unpredictable events of this evening or the presence of a mischief-maker as Sirius that coerced you to do it.

You twisted around once you calmed down, returning to your previous position to go back in admiring the starry sky, unbeknownst that Sirius was still staring at you. “Will it really take long before the door appears again?”

“Not too long.” He exhaled the last wisp of smoke away from you, then pressed the cigarette to the cool stone of the balcony, snuffing it out with a slow motion. “Just until the people you’re running from are far enough.”

Heat crept to your face. “I wasn’t running away from people.”

“Sure you weren’t.” That obnoxious smirk made a reappearance on his infuriatingly handsome features. “And I didn’t go here because I was running away from Filch.”

That made you scoff. “You were running away from Filch?”

“Yeah. James and I put Dungbombs in his office.” He seemed proud. “Then we almost got caught, and James ran back to the Gryffindor Tower while I went here to my favorite hiding spot.”

You looked at your surroundings, pretty much confused on which part of the castle you were supposed to be. “Where are we exactly?”

“No clue.” Sirius shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he indeed didn’t have a clue on where you two  were exactly. “Only thing I know about this place is that it’s here whenever I need it. The first time I found it, it was last year when I was sneaking out at night and almost ran into Professor McGonagall.”

“Of course, you were.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” He asked, going back to the main topic, curious. “Was it Filch too?”

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t Filch.”

“A professor?”

“No.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

A snort. “No.”

“Then who?”

You sighed, relenting on just disclosing who the person was since you reckoned it wasn’t information that needed to be kept secret at all cost anyways. “It was Mallory Flint—well, her minions, actually—but it’s because of her. Always been. I’m sure you’re well aware of who she is.”

“I am.” He narrowed his eyes, pretending to think. “She’s that Slytherin girl who looks like she might have been conceived from a troll, isn’t she?”

The unforeseen insult caused you to laugh out loud, your laughter slightly echoing in the walls. “Yes, you are absolutely right.”

Sirius laughed as well. “What’d she do?”

“Oh, you know, the standard. Insulting me, taunting me, rubbing it in my face that I’m a—” You abruptly stopped yourself, this sense of awareness that you were babbling too much hitting you hard.

This was Sirius Black for Merlin’s sake. He hated Slytherins, and you knew that he came from a lineage of respectable pure-blood wizards too (qualities of his that were awfully contradicting). Venting about the discrimination you constantly faced and the bullying you had to endure since you stepped foot in this school might not be the smartest decision to make.

“A Muggle-born.” He finished for you.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. That.”

“Typical. They always think that they’re bloody above everybody else.”

“You don’t think the same?” you asked. “I mean, you’re not much different than they are.”

Sirius scowled at that, like the implication of your words offended him. “Being a pure-blood is not something worth flaunting about.”

“It doesn’t look like it to other people.”

“Well,” he breathed in deeply, gray eyes flickering to the view ahead, “those kinds of people have nothing to brag about other than being a pure-blood. A bit tragic if you come to think of it.”

“I suppose.” Your fingers were absentmindedly scratching the material of your robes. “So, does that mean you have other things to brag about other than being in the noble house of Black?” You then added with a tease.

His lips curved up, displaying an expression that showed a combination of a smirk and grin. “Obviously. With a face like mine, do you really think anyone sees me and immediately thinks about my bloodline?”

The confidence, the way he looked at you, and the fact that he was goddamn correct made you blush. It led you to be speechless for a good minute, staring at him and his face that really could make anyone forget about his last name—something that you know he notices with how his grin takes its full form.

However, before he could comment about it and make you wish that the ground would swallow you whole, his gaze shifted to the doors, and you followed suit, exhaling in relief as the exit reappeared, granting you a chance to escape.

“Uh, I should go,” you said immediately, a statement that he raised an eyebrow at in obvious amusement. “Wouldn’t want to be caught or anything.”

“Sure, love. You do that.”

You ignored the hard beat of your heart. “And you? You’ll stay?”

“For a few minutes more, yeah.”

“Alright. Well…” You trailed, already inching towards the door. “Bye, then.”

You muttered curses under your breath as you made a run for it towards the doors, scolding yourself for appearing like a damn fool in front of Sirius. You were certain that he was making fun of you in his head, or that he was going to tell this encounter to James Potter, or that when you wake up tomorrow, your housemates will find another reason to torment you because of being chummy with a Gryffindor like Sirius.

“Hey, ____.”

You stopped in your tracks. Not only because he called your name, but because you were shocked that he even knew it in the first place.

With a slow turn, you saw him leaning backwards against the balcony, elbows supporting him.

“Hm?” You tried to act nonchalant.

He tilted his head slightly, smiling smugly, and carried on uttering the words that you’d come to replay in your mind over and over again.

“Same time tomorrow?”

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[the-muppet-joker]

helloooo?? How come ya haven't answered my Skip code message yet??! I'm disappointed

My inbox is slightly full at the moment.

[fawninthesnow]

𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: One Shot

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Empress Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+

Summary: Married to Emperor Geta, you decide to lift his spirits. (No plot smut.)

Warnings/contains: smut, fluff, mentions of violence, f4m, (somewhat) dom fem(?), male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), no aftercare, not proof read

Word Count: 1.3k

More on my Master list!

follow & like pls

The winds were strong on this day in the arena, the aim of the arrows shot by savage men were skewed. With every miss, the emperors groaned, and with every bloody wound, they cheered. From the large pits of fire beside the royal box, heat blew and fire blazed. A fighter, after a long duel, was put to death with a blade inside of his intestines. From your seat behind emperor Geta, you stood, holding your shawl over your arms.

**

You recall it like yesterday when you were informed by your parents that you would be the wife of a prince. Not just any prince, one of Rome.  “Father, he is younger than me. He will be irresponsible! Immature!” However, you knew what your job was. Marry him and they will spare your country. At the age of twenty-three, there was only one task left in this world for a royal daughter.

Along the long travel, you would bite into your bottom lip until it bled then healed. Repeatedly. The prince was described to you as immature and unruly by some. Deceitful and rough by others. However, that was every man at that age.

**

Later that evening.

Inside of the palace, you two sat across from each other. You read through a scroll as you were fanned. The emperor impatiently bounced his knee and his eyes on the door to his chambers. “He should be here by now.”

“Who?” You asked.

“You are not listening to me. My brother.” Your eyes lifted from the page, “What a nuisance!” As you tilted, your hair fell to the side.

You made your way to him, massaging his shoulders. “Why are you so tense? I am sure he meant no harm. He must be preoccupied.”

“You…have not touched me in a long time. A- and, now you mistaken my brother for an intentional man.” A soft chuckle left your lips as he whined, “Some days, I barely see you. Do you hide from me?”

“No, my love.”

“You do! I see you in the garden with the ladies of the court! I see you…everywhere it seems but not beside me.” Your fingers caressed his throat, his head tilted back.

“Have you shaven?” he shook his head; his red hair covered his eyes.

You sat by his side and held onto his neck with one hand. The other gently shaved down his face, taking the shaving soap along with it. When you were done, he wiped his face warm towel and tossed it elsewhere. Your fingers ran through his hair and moved his curls from his eyes. “Why did you leave during the games?”

“You know I do not like that violence. It is a masculine manner of expression. I am glad you enjoy it but…”

His smile was enough to make you content, “I guess. But when you leave,” Your hand reached around to his side, gently squeezing. Your lips pressed onto his ear as he settled into your hands. “It saddens me.”

“You cannot go everywhere I go, my love. I have duties and you have yours.” You hugged him, and he leaned his head against your bosom. “Please leave us.” You say to the servants as he nuzzled against your breasts. “Geta?” You asked as he pumped his cock beneath his clothes. He squeezed his shaft as he buried his face between. “Would you like help?” Your voice was sultry, and soft; his cheeks grew pink as the seconds passed.

Geta’s face scrunches as he was overwhelmed with sensation, biting his lower lip slightly as he fought for a hold of his breath. His mind goes elsewhere, as if he was reliving the experience.

Although his brother suggested concubines, you're the only one he wanted in this damn palace. The only woman that truly got to him.

When you both met, he was pleasantly surprised. You seemed to have such a kind, caring and nurturing side to you. Not many women would just say that she’ll be patient and understanding to a young man who has never experienced any kind of romance or intimacy. It was a dream come true for him.

Geta kept his chin to your chest when he spoke again. “T- thank you.”

“I love you, Geta.” He smiled and looked into your eyes. His expression was soft, his usual puppy eyes returning. He could sense how much you cared for him, just in the way you spoke to him. “I never want you to feel unwanted.”

“[Y/n]…” The feeling of your body pressed up against his was so euphoric, he'd missed feeling you like this.

You gently kiss his forehead and press your lips against the top of his head. He started to pump his fist around his cock again as you watched. He gently presses his lips along your jaw and neck, leaving several soft kisses along the flesh as he holds you close. His mouth wanders your neck for a few moments before planting another deep kiss on your lips. He held your face and pulled his close, moaning softly as you two shared a passionate kiss that grew heated in a matter of seconds.

He gently wraps his hand around your body, pulling you in closer and giving you a deep and passionate kiss, full of desire and need. He moaned as he felt your body pressed up against his, his skin heating up from the contact. “Make love to me, [Y/n].” He pants softly against your neck, his voice slightly breathy as he places more kisses along the sensitive flesh. He gently grabs your hips and pulls you in closer, so that your body was pressed up tightly against his own. He moans into your skin, desperately craving the feel of you. You tore the clothes from his body, panting into his mouth.

He pulls you close against him; a hand on the back of your knee as he positions himself between your hips.

When he sunk inside of your tight cunt, his eyelids twitched with need. Your hands held onto his face; you enjoyed the looks on his face when you both were intimate.

You kept your legs frayed as Geta fucked you into the pillows; Your thighs twitched, and you scratched the soft pillows behind you. “M- my love.” He gripped your wrists, feeling the strain of your pussy around his cock with every stroke and buck of his hips. He continued to hold himself up, sweat ran down his face; the sight of you beneath him. Your head fell back into the pillows; that expression was one that was earned. He was lost in the way your chest bounce and your eyes roll back. He stroked deeper, slowing the movement. You trembled at his actions; your fingertips drew him close against you. He grinds against your body as your moans echoed throughout the chamber. “Stay right there,” you said through breathless pants, a desperate need in your eyes.

He groaned; wetness seemed to coat his cock and, on his balls, the longer they fucked. “Dammit.” You stiffened, orgasming on his cock. Your hand gripped his throat as your back raised and arched. He lovingly suckled on your neck before continuing his deep strokes inside your snatch. “I- I cannot…last very much longer.” He whimpered into your ear. You caressed his head as he came inside of your pussy. He moaned, his arms gave up from under him and he lay on you; You kissed his lips as he pulled out of your cunt.

 You guide his head lower. He buried his face between your thighs. Geta slowly spreads your pussy with his fingers, dragging his middle finger down your labia. He admired his cum as it slid down to your asshole. “Fuck. I’m so lucky.” He kissed your inner thighs, taking his time. “I want you to ride my face after this.” You weakly moaned, closing your thighs around his head. He suckles on your sensitive clitoris as his middle fingers circled your opening. Your eyelids fluttered as your hips bucked on his face. He kissed your pussy a few times, gently stroking the clitoris.

Something quick while I finish up some requests!! <3

Thank you for everyone who have requested up to this point!

More on my Master list!

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 16

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; pregnancy; symptoms of pregnancy; pregnancy complications; vomit; mention of urination; attempted SA; injuries

A/N: I am still not convinced that I like this one or the direction it takes the story, but I agonized over it for too long. So here we are. 💙

It was one of those days, weak from hunger and dehydration, that you struggled. You couldn’t ride on the bike with Daryl and were confined to the bench seat in the back of a beat up van that the group had grabbed when the old truck had run out of fuel. 

You were freezing, even with the two blankets wrapped tightly around you. You refused to complain, though. It seemed like you always needed something. Daryl was barely eating, ensuring that you had most of his portions as well, meager as they already were. He always placed you closest to the fire when it wasn’t too dangerous to have one. You were to receive any anti-nausea medications that were happened upon, leaving Lori to suffer through her own morning sickness. It didn’t matter to you that hers was just run of the mill nausea and would fade. 

At 24 weeks, you felt the baby fluttering more often but only inside. It made you wonder if they weren’t growing as they should. You could see the same grim notion in Hershel’s eyes when he would check on you; the way the others avoided your gaze all together. 

But not Daryl. 

He’d just sit with you, letting you curl into him for warmth, while he displayed the tiniest of smirks. 

“S’a Dixon. They’ll be fine.”

The reassurance always made you smile. Sometimes, he’d even press his lips to the top of your head as he pulled a blanket snug around you. He had found this god awful poncho, colorful and not him in every way, which meant that it suited him perfectly. Always keeping you on your toes. He relied on that for his own source of warmth but never objected when you would pull him beneath the blanket as well. 

“Gotta keep my human furnace functional.”

The van rolled to a stop, prompting you to sit up. 

“Why’re we stopped?” You asked from behind Carol’s seat. Rick looked at you through the rear view mirror. 

“Getting late and we’re all exhausted.” He gestured to his right so you’d look out the window. A large, tattered house with a fence. “Haven’t seen too many walkers so we’ll clear that and maybe stay a few days.”

There hadn’t been many stops for the past several hours. There were probably buildings nearby to scavenge, but it was getting too dark to attempt. You gave the slightest nod and sat back to wait for the building to be cleared. Carol opened the door to help. She was learning and helping more and more with the walkers, becoming self-sufficient. You had the gun Daryl had given you but were under strict orders from the archer that you were to stay away from any altercations unless absolutely necessary. 

Just as Carol disappeared, the bowman peered inside. 

“Ya doin’ okay?”

You tried to offer a reassuring smile but it just wasn’t there. “Yeah.” 

He was doubtful, had every right to be, but morale just wasn’t anyone's strong suit anymore. Expression drawn, he reached back to squeeze your knee. His hand was warm through your sweatpants. You almost asked him to stay with you instead. He was needed out there though, part of the muscle that made things safer for everyone. 

“How are you feeling?” Lori asked from the passenger seat once the door had been closed. She was reclined slightly, eyes shut. She had already begun to show, even being several weeks behind you. 

You shrugged needlessly. She wasn’t looking at you. “Okay, I guess. The meds helped.” Cursing yourself the moment the words left your mouth, you tried to backpedal. “I have a few if you want one.”

“I’ve been through this before. Mine’ll pass.” You could hear the smile in her voice, though you didn’t understand why. She and Rick acted like strangers in recent weeks. Everyone had their theories but no one dared speak them. 

“Well, if you change your mind—” you trailed off, sitting back to deal with your own bout of nausea. You were feeling better. The episodes came less as your pregnancy progressed, but when it hit, it hit hard. IV fluids had long ago run out, no luck in finding more. It was up to you to keep yourself going now. 

The door slid open, startling you from a light doze. Daryl moved the seat in front of you and offered his hand. 

“S’clear. Let’s getcha inside. S’got a fireplace. Getcha all warm an’ make somethin’ horrible to eat.”

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, dragging your cocoon of blankets out with you. “I don’t know if I can eat but I’ll try.” You knew it bothered him when you didn’t at least take a couple of bites, make the attempt even if you weren’t feeling hungry. Because you should be hungry. You were pregnant in the middle of an apocalypse never knowing where your next meal might come from. So, you tried, if for no other reason than to see a few of the lines on his face smooth out. 

“S’all ya can do really.”

You couldn’t feel his hand on the small of your back but you knew it was there. That’s how he had taken to walking with you. It felt both possessive and protective, neither of which you minded. It had been weeks since you had realized you loved him. Weeks of never knowing where you stood. No one dared make an assumption other than Carol. She was convinced your feelings were reciprocated. You just didn’t know. 

“Sit down over there. I’ll get the fire goin’.”

“I can do it.” You attempted, knowing full well he was going to shoot down the idea. 

“Nah. Sit down.” He waved dismissively, not even turning around. You sat back with a pout, feeling utterly useless. You couldn’t fight. You couldn’t hunt. You couldn’t even start a bloody fire. 

Rolling up your sweater a little, you poked at your round belly. The air was cold, goosebumps rising as soon as it hit. “Guess I’m good at growing you, huh, Thumper?” When you thought about what you had said, you let your palm fall flat across the taut skin, tears stinging your eyes. “Fuck. Not even good at that, am I?” You sniffled, glancing up to make sure Daryl was preoccupied. The last thing he needed was to deal without another bout of your emotional whiplash. 

You watched the man work at the fire. Rick was bringing pieces of wood that weren’t soaked, too preoccupied with his task to pay you any mind. You could hear Glenn, T-Dog, and Carl chopping up furniture. Lori, Maggie, Carol, and Hershel were either snooping around or bringing in supplies. So, you could stare without risk of being caught. 

Like everyone else, Daryl had lost weight, his face more angular, clothes fitting looser. Not only did he barely eat, he was by far the most active. He’d scavenge, clear homes, lead the caravan on his bike, and still leave for a day of hunting that was usually unsuccessful. The only thing he did less of than eating was sleeping. You woke up at least twice in the few hours you had, usually to go pee. You never had to wake him to accompany you. He was always sitting up beside you. 

It was all starting to show. The dark circles under his eyes. The way he’d lose his balance sporadically. You were worried. You just wanted him to care for himself. 

Unconsciously tapping your middle finger on your stomach, you flinched when you felt a ripple beneath your hand. No way. You had frozen as if the baby would get spooked and run if you so much as breathed. When it happened again, you laughed out loud, startling Daryl. Upon seeing your shirt up, the archer was up and striding toward you. 

“S’wrong?” He asked with notable worry, crouching beside your knees. You shook your head, slinging your tears. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Gimme your hand.” You wiggled your fingers in front of him, elated and impatient. His hand barely made it up before you snatched it and pressed his palm to your belly, feeling bad for the way the sudden movement made him flinch. It was just out of surprise, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from muttering an apology. You were just too damn excited. 

But then nothing happened. 

“I, uh—the fire.” Daryl began to pull away but you weren’t ready to give up. 

“They were moving.” You pressed a little firmer against his hand. 

“Doc said ya’d feel ‘em ‘fore—”

You watched his face the moment the little ripple bumped against his palm. His eyes, wide as saucers, were shining with tears he didn’t seem able to blink away. Because he wasn’t blinking. You were about to question if he was even breathing when he drew in a gulp of air as if he’d forgotten. 

“Was that—”

You nodded. “Thumper’s thumping.” A tear trickled down your own cheek but you refused to move in order to wipe it away. Good moments were few and far in between and that was a great moment. Another movement within you had you laughing, Daryl glancing up and back down. “Feels funky but it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Your baby was moving. Alive and moving. It wasn’t a guarantee that nothing was wrong but it was something and you’d take that. 

The archer was still staring, cautious and curious, at his hand. He swiped his thumb back and forth over the skin, more than likely hoping for another movement. You were about to tell him it may not happen when he was rewarded with a small but firm bump to his palm. 

You laughed again, too engrossed in what was happening to notice Daryl leaning in. You lifted your head just in time for his lips to press against yours, both of your eyes shooting wide before he pulled away, hand and all. His reaction made it clear he’d been aiming for your cheek. 

“I should, uh—” 

The way he stood, nervously adjusting the crossbow’s strap as he backed away, made you anxious. The excitement was gone from his eyes, replaced with something you couldn’t even begin to decipher. 

“Daryl, it’s okay.” Shirt pulled down, you leaned forward, resisting the urge to reach for him.

“Nah, I—” he turned, making large strides out of the room. Foregoing your blankets, you were quick to follow. Daryl was standing a few feet from Rick, shifting from foot to foot like the panic was about to burst from within him if he stopped moving. 

“I’ll get the fire goin’ but man, it’s dark out. You can hunt tomorrow.” The former deputy shifted the wooden burden in his arms. He seemed to see something on the archer’s face that you couldn’t because he quickly relented. “Just be safe out there. What do you want me to tell Y/N?”

“Tell ‘er whatever ya want. She ain’t my problem, m’just here for my kid.” 

Your wet eyes stayed glued to where he had stood only seconds ago. At some point, Rick had noticed you, stopping beside you in the doorway. He would have squeezed your shoulder if not for the firewood he carried. 

“He didn’t mean it, Y/N.”

You couldn’t hide the hurt when you looked toward him, gaze seeming to look through him. “You sure about that?”

He wasn’t. 

Morning came and went, Daryl still hadn’t returned. Had he not left during the night, it wouldn’t be unusual. He spent many days out looking for anything that could be a potential dinner. But he always came back before dark. 

“You need to eat, sweetheart.” Carol gently stroked your hair while you looked out the window. You were cross-legged, wishing you could draw your knees to your chest and shrink into yourself but baby Dixon made that impossible. 

“Do you think he’s okay?” You asked quietly. 

“It’s Daryl. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Something about that answer didn’t sit right, no matter the good intention behind it. Daryl was only human. Anything but weak but no less human. You helped drag him from a ravine when he was barely hanging on to consciousness. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, the walker would have certainly killed him.

“I should go after him.” Even if he doesn’t care about me. 

“No you absolutely should not.” Carol’s hand stilled on the back of your head. “You’re pregnant, Y/N. It’s dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” The quiver in your voice betrayed your attempted confidence. What if you couldn’t protect yourself anymore. Everyone had been treating you like a doll, fragile and useless. 

“You can’t go out there. Think of your baby.”

As if they could hear the concern echoing in the other woman’s voice, the baby moved, a whispered flutter just beneath your skin. Your hand moved of its own accord, gently massaging, reassuring the little life inside you that you were thinking of them. 

“I’ll wait.” You conceded, your shoulders slumping in defeat. Your baby needed to be your first priority. They certainly were Daryl’s. You supposed that was a good thing. At least he would be a present father. 

“I think he’s dealing with some serious emotions right now.” Carol had begun to pet your hair again, her voice soft and sure. As the first snow of the season began to fall, you leaned into her and allowed yourself some comfort. 

Still, your eyes never left the window. 

You had fallen asleep as Carol held you. You didn’t remember moving to the bed roll but when you forced your eyes open, the fire was burning brightly and you were bundled up. You stretched stiff muscles, pushing the blankets away. What had become a tradition, your bladder screamed for relief. You wouldn’t complain since it meant that you weren’t severely dehydrated. 

But it was cold and everyone was asleep. 

Biting your lip, you decided to venture out on your own. It wasn’t far to the tree line. Your holster was in the van, unable to wrap around your thickened waist. You decided to simply carry the gun and strapped your knife to your thigh. Your swollen belly altered your center of gravity, making it difficult to step over the lumps in blankets and sleeping bags. 

Glenn was nowhere to be seen, most likely patrolling the outside of the house. Hopefully you didn’t startle him. The snow had stuck, nearly two inches at least, and Daryl was still absent. It was beyond difficult to push down your worry, fight the urge to keep walking past the trees in the direction he had left. 

Just inside the treeline, you nearly moaned in relief that quickly passed into annoyance. With toilet paper and napkins being saved for the messier trips, you had to bear the cold biting your most intimate areas while you drip dried.

“God, the apocalypse sucks.” You complained under your breath. After an adequate—and brutal—amount of time, you were sure there was a layer of ice on your nethers. Panties, leggings, and sweatpants pulled up, you picked up your gun and stretched again. 

“Aw, the show’s over, boys.”

Your gun was aimed before the sentence was finished. Four shadows were spread out around you, one shoved toward you harshly. Glenn fell close to your feet, and you instinctively offered a hand and let him pull himself up. 

“Assholes jumped me.” Your friend staggered, choosing to hold onto the tree instead of putting his weight on you. 

“How many more of you are there?” One of the men asked, stepping forward so you could make out some of his features. 

“More than there are of you.” You silently clicked the safety off your gun.

“Getting knocked up when the world’s all fucked is pretty stupid.” The shadow to the left sneered. “Must be some good pussy if the daddy didn’t pull out.”

“You’ll never know.” You hissed, your freed hand clutching the sweater over your belly. “We scream, and our group will take you down before you can even reach us.”

“Y/N, there’s one missing.” Glenn was dazed, shaking his head as if he just couldn’t focus. 

“What?”

“There were four.”

Before his words could fully sink in, there was a knife pressed into the side of your belly, a bulky arm wrapping around to hold tightly to your left breast. 

“Drop it, or I’ll carve the little one out.” The tip of the blade pushed into your skin, enough for a small, damp patch of red to spread across your sweater. 

“Okay! Alright, I’m putting it down.” Flicking on the safety so the gun didn’t accidentally discharge, you let it fall to the ground with a dull thump. 

“Good girl.”

You visibly cringed, glancing over to find Glenn as his hands were restrained. He was having a hard time staying awake. Head injury. 

“Tie her hands and get her pants off.” Your breath hitched as the knife was pulled away, your holster ripped from your thigh. 

“Please don’t.” You begged, your body being jerked unnecessarily roughly to zip tie your wrists. A dirty hand ran across your stomach and down to your hip, squeezing uncomfortably. 

“She knows how to beg when she don’t got that gun.” He laughed huskily, leaning in too close. You reared back, turning your head to avoid his lips. “Don’t be like that, baby. We about to get to know each other real good.”

“Leave her alone!” Glenn tried to struggle upright, a boot to his stomach securing him to the ground. 

“Don’t worry, boy. You’re next.” The stranger standing over him chortled. 

What if these men were the reason Daryl hadn’t returned? What they had—

You flinched when the waistband of your pants was grabbed and pulled at, the hold too strong to struggle against. That sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying. If they were going to rape you, you wouldn’t make it easy. 

“Get off me!” You shrieked, not caring if you drew every walker in the vicinity. Maybe they’d hear you in the house. When your mouth opened to scream again, a dirty handkerchief was stuffed inside. The only thing worse than the taste was the smell, instantly triggering your nausea. 

The man grabbed behind your knees and pulled, sending you crashing to your back, your head smacking the unforgiving ground. The snow began to melt and seep through your sweater but your lower half was nearly exposed. Two men worked to undress you—maybe there was just one? They looked identical and moved in sync. After a moment, the two melted together. Now you had a head injury. 

It was futile to battle against the bile creeping up your throat. You had to tilt onto your shoulder to vomit, the viscous liquid seeping out around the fabric blocking its exit. With what little coherence you could summon you swallowed down what remained in your mouth. It would happen again but at least you wouldn’t choke on it this time. 

“Hoo, boys. Look at that pretty cunt!” 

Your face burned with shame, your gut churning, and your heart breaking. Daryl. It was the only logical explanation. They’d killed him and now they would kill you. One of them knelt between your legs, loudly working open his belt. Over the laughter and the clink of metal, you heard a sharp whistle. 

“What was that?”

“Where’d it come from?”

Another whistle, but this one was different. It was the sound of a projectile traveling to its target. Something warm ran down your right thigh. When you managed to raise your head, ignoring the throbbing, the man that was about to fuck you began toppling toward you, a familiar bolt through his eye. 

Daryl. You’re okay. 

You managed to move just far enough to avoid the dead weight before letting your head fall back into the snow, the cold soothing the ache. There were voices all around you, some distant part of you yearning to get up and help in the fight. 

“Stay awake, honey.” You opened your eyes to find Carol’s worried blue gaze looking you over while she ripped the disgusting cloth from your mouth. 

“Snuck up on us.” You breathed. 

“I know but they’re dead now. Or they will be.” 

You hummed, tuning her out when she began to admonish you for going outside alone. You were too tired to admit you fucked up. You could do that later. After a nice nap. 

“Nuh uh, girl. Open them eyes.” 

Something warm was wrapped around you, and you were gently lifted. The smell of leather and smoke wafted into your nostrils, and you knew you were safe. 

“Daryl—”

“This her blood? What th’fuck happened? Why wasn’t someone with her?!” 

When had he laid you on the bedroll? You squirmed against the cold hands on your skin, your clothes being completely removed. Had you dreamed it? Were you still out there?

“Be still, woman!” 

You exhaled. It wasn’t a dream after all. You were safe, the baby was safe. You could rest. Ignoring the pleas for you to stay awake, you followed the darkness into a blissful state of nothingness. 

“I’m fine!” You whined, swatting at Carol’s hands when she tried to roll up your shirt for the millionth time to check your stitches. “It wasn’t that deep and the baby’s been wiggling like a nightcrawler.” When the woman deflated, you leaned forward with a wince to grab her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

Daryl was perched on a chair in the corner of the bedroom they had moved you into, forever fiddling with his crossbow. He had long ago cleaned and prepped the two rabbits he’d brought back. Lori was handling those while Carol insisted on being your mother hen. The archer hadn’t left the room much, but he hadn’t spoken to you either. 

It wasn’t like you did anything damnable. You went to pee, thinking Glenn was safe and on watch. Why the hell was Daryl mad at you? He was the one that skulked off for over twenty four hours and scared the hell out of you! You should be giving him the silent treatment. 

You already kinda were. 

“Any headache?” Hershel asked, strolling into the room with some Tylenol. 

“Just a little.” You shrank back, suddenly feeling like a kid under the scrutiny of the older man. He held out the tablets and you took them without question. You stayed forward so he could probe the back of your head, hissing when he pressed against the sensitive lump left behind. 

“Swelling’s gone down but we still need to keep an eye on you. You took quite the tumble last night.”

“Wasn’t as much of a tumble as it was a thrown onto the back of my noggin.” From the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl go still, his fist clenching. “Doesn’t matter though. I’m good. Baby’s good. Glenn’s good. And we have meat for dinner! I’d say that’s a win.”

“Jesus fuck.” Daryl hissed from the corner. You turned your head so fast that your vision blurred and Hershel moved as if you’d slapped him. 

“What?” You clapped back, growing warm with anger. Carol and Hershel all but dashed out of the room. 

“Ya just gonna act like s’all good? No big deal? Ya almost got yourself killed, Y/N!” The crossbow was still on his lap, trembling from how hard he was gripping the stock. “Fuckin’ stupid.” 

“I was going to piss, Daryl! I usually have someone to go with me but you weren’t here!” You wanted to find the stricken expression on his face satisfying but somehow, it just felt bad. 

“Couldn’a got someone else?” His voice was calmer now, tired and raspy. 

“Why does it matter now anyway? Your baby’s safe.” You sank back against the headboard, grimacing when even the dusty but soft pillows made the back of your head sing with pain. 

“Yeah but you got hurt.” 

You heard his crossbow being placed against the wall but didn’t bother to look over. Your head was actually starting to hurt and dealing with Daryl wasn’t doing it any favors. “Your kid is your priority, Dixon. You don’t need to hover. They’re good.” Massaging your temples, you sighed. “I’m sure Hershel will tell you if anything changes.”

The mattress dipped beside you, your eyes opening and fingers ceasing their movements. Daryl wasn’t looking at you. He was actually looking at his knees, where one hand was clenched so tightly, his knuckles were white. His other hand was planted on the mattress, the trembling shaking the surface beneath you. 

“Ya heard that?”

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavy and suffocating beneath your ribcage. “I did.” You wanted to push him off the bed, yell at him until he felt as bad as he made you feel. 

“Didn’t mean it.”

You scoffed. “Then why’d you say it?” The archer looked pained, confused. “You know, it’s fine if you don’t want to be anything with me. Doesn’t mean we can’t raise our kid together.”

“That ain’t it.”

“Then what is it because this hot and cold with you is getting really old.” You laughed wryly. 

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He cleared his throat and sat back a little, hand hovering over your belly before he placed it on his thigh next to the other. “Kiss ya. Not, uh—not like that.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. His cheeks were tinted pink, the tips of his ears matching the shade. 

“That’s okay. I turned my head. It was—”

“I wanted to.” He clarified quickly, shutting you right the hell up. “Just didn’t mean to.” God, that man was confusing as fuck. Just like you had said: hot and cold. “Ain’t good with words. Never have been.”

You shrugged flippantly. “Always good with them when we’re fucking.”

“Y/N.” He deadpanned. 

“Sorry.” Licking your lips, you wiped away your smile. “So, you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah.”

“But it was an accident?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” This was beyond hot and cold. This was eternal hellfire and hypothermia. “Daryl, can you just—say what you want?” 

“Told ya, ain’t good with words.” You opened your mouth but then he was leaning forward pressing his lips to yours, gentle and chaste, leaving you yearning for just a little more. His eyes were dancing back and forth between yours, fear and uncertainty blooming in the cerulean pools. 

“Do you want to know what I want?” Your fingertip brushed over the scar on this temple, moving his hair a little. It was growing and he wasn’t stopping it. You kinda liked it. Your focus returned to his gaze, and he nodded. “You. Me. Thumper. I never thought I’d have a family and then I thought I’d be a mom and you’d be a dad and we’d coparent as friends.”

“That whatcha want?”

“Shut up and let me finish.” You struggled not to laugh when his mouth shut with a click of teeth. “I want you and me to raise little Thumper. Together. Not as friends. It’s okay if you don’t wan—”

This kiss was a bit more. More tongues, more teeth, more vigor. When he moved away, it was only to start pulling at your clothing, coaxing a hearty laugh from your throat as he wrestled your sweatpants off with a bit of a struggle. 

“Wait!” You called out, holding out a hand to have him freeze. Your chin trembled with the absolutely agonizing attempt to hold back more laughter. “Does this mean you like me?” 

Your sweatpants landed on your face. 

“Shuddup.”

[giuliettagaltieri]

Swarm of Bees

Pairing: Fiancé!Gojō x Fiancée!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, hints of dacryphilia, Gojō is a bully at heart.

Word Count: 1596

3 of 9

There are many things that Gojō Satoru hates.

One, the higher ups of the jujutsu society.

Two, when people say “No offense, but…” And proceed to insult him.

Three, people who get in his way.

And four, when he is not getting the attention he deserves.

In the past few years, Gojō has been working as a teacher in the Jujutsu High.  He still leaves for missions, it was only expected as he is the strongest sorcerer.  But he stays in the school quite often compared to when he was a field sorcerer.

And quite frankly, he expected more visits from a certain someone.

But he never got them anymore.

Shoko would often put out her cigarette to drop her face on her palms whenever Gojō talks about this.  And he cannot understand why she does that.

From time to time, he receives gifts from you.  But no more letters.  Nothing that adds a personal touch from you.  Just food.  As if you’re sending them so he won’t forget you existed.

But if he were to be asked, forgetting you was impossible as your time to be wedded comes closer and closer.

And now, you are celebrating your 20th naming day.

You turned into a beautiful young lady.  Truly worthy of him. 

But much to his aggravation, it seems like many took notice of your change too.

Men from different clans were hovering over you. 

Greeting you, complimenting you about the simplest of things.  It made something inside him itch and it bothered him to no end.

They only liked you now because you turned out to be a well-polished woman.  They did not see you with snot on your nose as you wailed after scraping your knee, which he absolutely had no involvement whatsoever or when your face bubbled like a squirrel when you did not get your way.

“You’re pouting.”  Shoko comments as she sips on her glass of champagne.

The celebration was at its peak.  The musical ensemble was playing a lively tune and gossips and giggles were filling the floral air of your estate house.

And you, the center of the event.

Almost every pair of eyes were on you.

Gone was the shy little lady of your house.  You are now a woman who is ready to take her first steps into society.  You were like a fresh fruit, ripe for the taking.  Had it not been for Gojō’s presence, many insolent men would have asked, no, begged for your hand right then.

Your hair glittered with every turn of your head.  Your painted lips curving up to a perfect smile whenever a gentleman compliments you.  Yet the innocent smile is always paired with the haughty spark in your eyes as you decline their offer to dance.

It was the fourth time that you declined an offer in the same hour.

And Gojō Satoru cannot stand to watch such blatant disrespect any longer.

Both Shoko and Nanami follow him with their watching eyes as he makes his way to you.  Their feet are ready to move as soon as the man makes a fool of himself or starts a fit in the middle of your perfect evening.  Or both.

They were at the edge of their seats when Gojō clears his throat to catch your attention.  The two of them watch very closely for any sudden movement from any of you.

But like fluid from the most graceful of waterfalls, you rise from your seat, standing on the tip of your toes to lean on Gojō’s chest.

All breaths halted at your action, including the man you were smiling up to.  His crystalline blue eyes watching you, almost calculating your every move.  But you smile slyly at him as your fingers trace his jaw and your lips find his cheek.

“I am delighted to see you.  But I am terribly sorry Gojō-sama, I would have to decline.”  Your thumb caresses his cold cheek.  “My dance card is full for the evening.”

Like a nymph, you slide away from him to accept the hand of a young man who was waiting for you.  And Gojō can only watch as you are being guided to the center of the floor.  

And you danced so beautifully.

The itch turned into a burn.  And Gojō had to sit the entire evening with such sensation nesting in his chest, almost clawing out into a form of aggression.

Whenever your dance partner spins you or their gloved hands wander closely to your bottom, Gojō has to quell the urge to pummel them to the ground.  He did not quite understand the urge to do so.  But after having the feeling for the rest of the night, he has come to terms with it.  Given up on trying to understand the impulse and just settled with the idea that every man who speaks with you is disrespecting him.

And you.

Oh, he is so cross with you.

How dare you fill in your dance card without reserving even a single dance for him.  Have you forgotten that you are betrothed to him?  Or do you just fancy the little game you are playing?  Acting as if he is not around.

The clock hand tells that the night was no longer young.  But you were still being twirled around in the middle of the dance hall.  It was your final dance for the evening.  And by the slight delay in your steps, he is well aware that you are exhausted from dancing for hours.

By the time the last note travels through the air, Gojō was already on his feet and marching towards you. 

You took no notice of course as you were smiling brightly at your dance partner as he bowed to place a kiss on your gloved hand.

But before his lips could touch you, Gojō Satoru unceremoniously grabs you by your midriff and carries you like a mannequin being set up for display.

Your startled squeal catches the attention of every person in the room and they watch as you wrap your arms around your fiancé’s neck in panic.

As the man carries you and disappears behind the doors to your garden, the chatter resumes but now, soft smiles are gracing the lips of every attendee.

They have been granted the front row seats to watch your game of push and pull with the strongest sorcerer.  Some of them have been watching ever since before you learned to walk.

It brought them great joy to see the man finally taking an action to claim you as his woman.

You, on the other hand, have your heart beating wildly on your chest.

Have you pushed too far?

Has your act of refusing his offer to dance been too much of a blow to his pride?

When Gojō places you down, you also pull your arms back to your sides.  You do not want to meet his eyes.  No, not at all.

“Sit.”

You still instinctively look up at him though.  “Huh?”

He gestures to the bench behind you.  “I said, sit.”

Immediately, you pull at your dress to smoothen the fabric as you sit down.  You did not appreciate how the act made you even smaller compared to his full height.

Your fingers twiddle with each other to release some of the budding nervousness in your chest.

“I-I am terribly sorry if I upset you, Gojō-sama.”  You stammer.

There you are.

A smirk finds itself on Gojō's lips.  You haven’t changed one bit.  You were only brave when there were other people around but you are the same shy little girl that he knew the moment you were alone.

He kneels before you to look you in the eye.  “Upset me? Whatever do you mean, my love?”  His tone was dark and dangerous despite him smiling playfully at you. 

You wanted to cry.

And his smile widens when your eyes turn glassy just as your lips wobble.

He just watched your suffering, willing yourself to hold back the tears.  Just as you thought you'd break, he clicks his tongue and digs through the poof of your gown to take off your sandals.

And as he expected, blisters covered your dainty feet.

“How were you dancing so beautifully with such discomfort.”  He says with his voice grim.

You can only watch him as his hands work on healing your wounds.

At times like this, you feel the safest.  As if nothing in the world could harm you.

And without much thinking, your hands cup his cheek.  And Gojō looks at you with still a tiny frown by his eyebrows.

“Are you upset with me?”  You ask with your voice barely above a whisper.

“That depends.  Are you done with your ruse?”  He cocks an eyebrow and you nod shyly.  “Then we’re good.”

“Will you dance with me now?” 

When you smile at him so softly, how can he say no?

But to your surprise, the man grabs you by your waist, lifts you up until your now healed feet are stepping on his shoes.

You hastily tried to get off but he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Stay.”

It was a simple command but you find yourself surrendering all that you are to him.

Your hands find themselves resting atop his shoulders and with the echoes of the music spilling to the dim garden, Gojō Satoru makes you feel as if you too were honored throughout heaven and earth, simply because he had you in his arms and he was swaying you to the faintest of melodies.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

[holyschnitzel]

I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY THAT I AM WRITING TO YOU AGAIN, BUT IT SEEMED TO ME THAT YOU DIDN'T NOTICE MY MESSAGE AND I DECIDED TO WRITE TO YOU WHILE YOU ARE ONLINE, I AM VERY SORRY, I AM ON MY KNEES😭😭😭 Greetings from Russia!👋👋 I ADORE YOU, YOU ARE GORGEOUS!!! I hope you're doing great and you're feeling good.💗💗❤️💕💞💕💕 AND I'M REALLY SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU AAH😭 Questions about Damon (I love him💘) 1. How would he react if MC committed suicide? 2. What if MC carved the name of a Demon and hearts on their hand as a sign of love? 3. How would he react to MC who walk and talk in their sleep? (I had so many questions, but I got nervous and forgot them all...) you don't have to answer if the answers are spoilers. "Oh, and one more thing.........Damon, I want to touch your breasts....."👉👈 (I think I'm going crazy XD )

aww thank you so much for your kind words 🥰 but please, PLEASE DO NOT send me your questions several times, it's too much 😭

quick info: I want to let you know that I do read all of your messages, but I receive so many each day that it's really hard to keep up with all of them. when I answer 5 questions, I get 20 new ones. I never thought it would be this many, but here we are. other questions are spoiler territory or - and this is usually the case - I simply do not know the answer. my knowledge is mainly limited to the game. I know almost nothing about all the other characters in the universe because they aren't relevant to the game. so I hope you all understand that I'm not able to answer every ask I get. it's impossible at this point 🙏

now to your questions:

Well, this one should be obvious, shouldn't it? :) He would be absolutely devastated. He might even go so far as to follow MC to his death.

If it's a sign of love, he wouldn't mind it, he would adore it <3

He would listen, after all MC could say something of importance. If you were to sleepwalk, he would make sure that nothing bad happened to you, even at the expense of his own sleep.

thank you again, you are so sweet 💗 and greetings to Russia 🇷🇺👋

[bucksangel]

okay you’re straight up ATTACKING ME!!!! It’s been two days and i’m still losing my mind (which is the natural response to seeing sebastian) this will be quick but it’s giving me soooo many ideas😫😫

pairing: alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

word count: 870

warnings: 18+ minors dni, mention of oral (f receiving), alpha!bucky being a complete menace, kinda dom/in charge!reader??, that’s it i think

It’s hard, so fucking hard trying to ignore him. It helps that you’re standing with your back to him, but you can feel his gaze - glare more like. He’s been like this ever since you woke up this morning: pouting when you refuse to kiss him, whining when you wiggle out of his hold every time he manages to wrap his arms around you, he even shuffled to the couch and flopped onto it with a dramatic huff when you slapped his hand away when he tried holding yours.

Bucky Barnes is a baby, but you’re too stubborn to give in to his wishes.

“Come on, darling,” He whines from the couch, and the low rumble he lets out soon after makes you want to give up the act, makes you want to sink to your knees and crawl to him, forgiving him for the earlier incident. “I said I was sorry, don’t you wanna come let your Alpha apologize properly? I’ll get on my knees -”

You cut him off by throwing a nearby pillow towards him, glancing over your shoulder for a brief moment to see that he’s now sitting up, resting one hand on his thigh with his other arm thrown over the top of the couch. It takes all your might to force yourself to look away and focus back on making your tea, but you do it anyway.

It lasts not even five seconds, because then Bucky pulls out the big stops, lowering his voice as he says, “Omega… Come on.”

With a huff, you turn on your heels, placing your hands on your hips and glaring at the man you’ve called yours for over two years. His pout is gone, replaced with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as he waits for the inevitable.

“No,” You say harshly, but your heart’s not in it. You want to forgive him so badly, but he needs to learn his lesson. “You threw away all of my underwear! What am I supposed to wear when I go out now?”

“First of all, I didn’t throw all of them away. I left you a couple of thongs and those sets I love so much.” Bucky’s musky Alpha scent is slowly filling the room, the sheer dominance he radiates is clear to anyone who comes in contact with him but it’s more prevalent now with his leather jacket hugging his biceps. “Plus, we hardly leave the house anyway. And you know very well how I feel about you wearin’ panties around here.”

It’s true, you do know. In the beginning of you two living together, you quickly learned it’s best to not wear pants. You don’t like wearing them in the comfort of your own home anyway - something Bucky is extremely appreciative of. But especially panties, they merely get in the way of his desire to fill you up at any chance he gets. And it’s not like you’re complaining, oh god no. The day you’re not ready to take Bucky’s cock at any given moment will be the day you die.

It’s just… You liked the pairs you had, and they were expensive. So for Bucky to just throw them away - even if you know he didn’t mean any actual ill-will by it - kind of irks you.

Though not nearly as much as the infuriatingly smug grin on his face as you falter, he knows you’re going to cave, you always do. You’re weak for him, always have been, and always will be.

It’s just good that he’s the same way. He’d jump fifty feet in the air if you asked him to, he’d go out at one in the morning and get you food if you even suggested you were hungry, and he’s proved time and time again that he’s worthy of being your Alpha.

But right now, all you want to do is continue to gripe and make him buy you more. But then an even better idea pops up, and it’s your turn to smile deviously.

“You’re right,” You start, crossing your arms over your chest and slowly walking towards him. “You and I both know how you feel about my panties, and I guess you did leave me the good ones. But a verbal apology isn't going to be good enough.”

“Ome-“

“No.” Your harsh tone shuts him up, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’ve already ripped up quite a few because you’re too impatient to actually take them off. But throwing them away is too far.” Stopping about a foot in front of him, you have to will yourself not to laugh at the shock on his face.

“Your ‘apology’ will be me sitting on your face until you give me as many orgasms as the underwear you tossed out, okay?”

At that, Bucky straightens up one of his eyebrows raising as he leans forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “Omega, you have no idea how okay with that I am.” With that, Bucky shoots up, wrapping you in his arms and literally sweeping you off your feet as he carries you toward the bedroom.

It’s going to be a long day, and it’s a good thing you don’t have anything planned.

[rae-pss]

Hello again rae! So I just saw that you read my ask about my think in chap 5 in whb. And I am so happy we have thing in common so here I give you some another imagine of whb self aware idea for you. Since I think about it long enough and want to share it with you. ( Just take you time to have a idea to writing about this content , I will be waiting 😄 ).

Just imagine that we ( the reader ) found out a way to control the mc in a short or long moment or talk through the mc body.

- Everytime sitri call the mc (Ra-on) solomon ( own sexy pewpaw , I can't lie the fact that he so beautiful , no wonder god like him ). the reader will be like ' I will find a way to control the mc to make them ignore him or make him cry on his knee to apologize and call out the MC's name correctly '.

- everytime the seraphim attack the hell or even talk nonsense about kill the mc or enything about god the reader will be like ' no wonder why god leave you all , because you all are so annoying and dumb '.

- ( Like I say in another ask about bully leviathan ) in his H-scent , the moment he talk shit about minhyeok and say human are weak then the reader like ' fuck this , I will teach you lesson ' control the Mc body and then dominant him back like choke him by the whip he give them and then choke him hard until he almost faint then I will stop. And no is not done yet. Is the mc not dominant the hell out of him then the reader will do it , until he beg for more and I will stop and get out of there leave him like that as a pay back. ( cockblock him make him so close to cum and then leave him like that ).

And that all what I want to say. And feel free to use my imagine is one of it make you have a idea to write , I even happy is you do ☺️😄🤔

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . shout out to the inspiration i suddenly got to do sitri and levi' parts. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 944 words, first it's sitri, then gabriel, and lastly leaviathan. mentions of the word cock and choking (character receiving) in levi's part since it has a little smut (?).

how you achieved that was something that not even you could understand. was there even a way to do it? well, the existential questions could wait for another time, now you had to take advantage of every damn second that fate had given you.

you couldn't waste this opportunity to talk to your beloved characters.

the walk seemed very normal for the blue-stranded demon, one more of the many that sitri had taken with his beloved solomon since his recent return. how much he missed those moments of quiet peace when it was just him, solomon, and their precious heartbeat.

—how are you feeling, sol-?

the demon didn't even have time before one hand grabbed the black cravat (handkerchief) of his shirt and then pulled with force, thus making his eyes come face to face with solomon's. and, once again gaining on him in time, they spoke loud and clear.

—call me by that dead man's name one more time and you'll end up crying on a street corner, ignored by me until the day I decide to forgive your sorry ass.

their eyes seemed to shine with a unique intensity. it was certainly similar to how satan's eyes did when someone alluded to his lack of height; however, something about them appeared different. it wasn't the usual way their irises looked, now they felt more… more alive.

regardless, a few seconds later their hand left his garment as quickly as they had first grabbed it. their expression showed some stupor, but sitri decided to disregard it for the moment. maybe the influence of his king was harming his beloved sol- his beloved ra-on.

no one could say exactly how many times they had already met, nor was it so crucial to know the number. not when, once again, the Seraph was flying over a devastated and decaying gehenna, looking down from the sky at the destruction he and his angels had brought to the kingdom of wrath.

despite the initial pleasure that such sights brought him, his smile was erased from his pale face when his eyes fell on the figure of a certain human.

"that damn descendant of that dead man..."

with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw already clenched, gabriel pointed the blade of his scythe at them.

—how annoying it's... you foolish human being still alive.

and, as usually happened in each of his meetings, not very pleasant ones to whoever had to listen to the white-haired angel, he began to talk and talk about his love for god, about how everyone who wasn’t in heaven were beings unworthy of being alive, of how god will return, of how he should kill them in an instant... in general, he began his long monologue with himself out loud.

—no wonder why god left you all, i mean, you’re so annoying.

that was as if a drop of water had fallen on his head. some words that he never expected to hear from that human's lips. a simple phrase that awakened every desire to end their pathetic existence once and for all.

—you, insolent child!

he could say little more when, as usually happened, the demons made an appearance and the battle started once more.

the day he had them in his hands... that day gabriel would make them pay for having dared to say such things, about him and his dear god.

this was new. it was the first time in his long existence as king that someone had left him in such a miserable state without even hesitating twice. so renewed was it that, even there leviathan was still lying on the ground with his right hand on his neck, caressing the irritated skin, and his cock standing proud waiting for any release.

not long ago he was with that descendant of solomon, that peculiar human, helping them with the dose of demonic essence they so much needed to stay alive down there. although, he thought he’d give it to them in his way.

what he never expected from such an excuse of a being was that they’d use his tactics against him so naturally.

it was the exact moment in which their gaze became more intense, their fist tightened the handle of the whip and, with a sigh escaping past their lips, they took a few assertive steps forward until, without even thinking about it, they wrapped the rope around his neck. and tightened the material.

seconds were what leviathan needed to notice how the air disappeared agonizingly from his lungs, how the little oxygen in him vanished after the oppression of the whip around his neck.

—don't think you can go around saying those things like it's nothing.

the human commented fiercely, letting themselves sit comfortably on his lap without any problem. the force they used on the object increased and decreased depending on how blue they noticed his face. yet, some other color also dared to be seen on his cheeks.

—this excites you, doesn't it? 

they spat hatefully, squeezing the ends of the whip harder, they let the demon beneath their body writhe in a mixture of the most lascivious of pleasures and the most tortuous of agonies. all of this would have been better if they hadn't noticed his hardened member twitching underneath their crotch.

—pathetic that you get so eager when being choked... as pathetic as only you could be.

from there, everything became a blurry memory for him. a memory blinded by the balance of passion and pain that ended once they had their fair fun with him. to then, leave him there on the floor like the waste they remarked him he was.

[anemoxlys]

Runaway

“They say a Stark keeps their vows, do they speak true?” “And if I asked you to make a vow to me, would you?” “Without hesitation.”

Cregan Stark x reader fic (mostly finished)

Word Count: 4480+

“Sister.” You heard the most unwanted voice of your eldest brother slur from behind you as he stumbled down the corridor, clearly drunk. “Aegon, I believe you should retire to your chambers.” You muttered, turning to walk away and continue on your way towards the library. “I do not think you should marry.” Aegon continued, clearly not taking note of your keenness to leave. “I couldn’t bear the thought of another man touching you, dear sister.” He finished before he tripped over his own feet and hurtled towards the ground. You left shortly afterwards. 

“I do not know why I must be present.” Aegon muttered, clearly unhappy at having to sit through the many men trying to win your titles, money and future children. “I do not know either brother, why don’t you just leave if this angers you so.” You retorted with a snarl before turning to face the next man. 

“Oh seven hells.” You cursed, staring down at the boy who stood before you, him being no older than two and ten. “You dare mock the princess with an infant?” Aegon laughed, eyes narrowing as the boy’s father stepped forwards. “I am aware that my son is young-” He began before he was cut off once more by Aegon, “What could he possibly offer to the princess except for wooden horses and games?” He jeered, causing the other suitors to snicker as well. “I have a good name, my grace, I could also offer my protection.” The child replied. “Your protection!” A man you could not remember the name of snorted, “Let us see how well you protect yourself before you claim to protect her highness.” The boisterous man continued, drawing his sword at the boy. “Aegon.” You said, standing as the man drew closer to the now trembling child. “Fear not sister, I doubt the child will harm Ser Horton.” He replied, a sick grin spreading across his lips. Your eyes scanned the sea of suitors, desperately trying to find someone who would stop this cruel mockery. 

You watched, mortified, as Horton brought his sword past his head and began to bring it back down on the child who’s own sword was stuck in the scabbard he clearly received a few days prior. “Pick on someone your own age.” A gruff voice spat as the sound of steel against steel sounded. A man with the most gorgeous brown hair stood with his back turned to you, blocking Horton’s sword from reaching the now snivelling child. With no hesitation, you ran down the steps in the throne room and fell to your knees before the child. “Are you alright?” You asked, taking the small boy’s hands on your own. “I apologise my lady.” He sobbed, head turned to the floor, “I am a fool to think myself worthy of you.” “Nonsense, you will grow to be a fine knight, you are simply not of the right age yet.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead before turning to his father with a glare. “He is far too young to be courting someone of my age, you have placed his life in danger by doing so. You disgust me.” You hissed, eyes blazing with fury as you turned to face the rest of the suitors, “Cowards, each and every one of you. You stood and watched as this poor child was about to be murdered before your very eyes, and yet none of you did anything. You are less worthy than the boy you failed to consider.” You finished your rant by turning to face the only man in the room you could stand to look at, “Thank you Ser…” You began before trailing off at the realisation that you neither knew his name nor noticed the striking grey eyes that stared at you as if you were the only woman alive. “Ser Cregan Stark, princess.” He replied, taking your hand in his as he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Well then, thank you my lord. You have proved yourself an honourable and just man. Would you care to accompany me to the gardens for a walk? I wish to clear my mind.” You offered, extending your hand for Cregan to take, which he did momentarily. 

“Is the north pleasant, my lord?” You asked, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had fallen into. “Very my lady, the views I believe would be much to your liking.” He replied with a fond smile. “Tell me my lord, are all men of the North as handsome as you, or did you just get lucky?” You grinned, leaning slightly closer to the man as he looked down at you. “I consider myself to be better looking than average, but I’ll leave that judgement up to you, your highness.” He replied with a smile. The two of you fell back into an easy going rhythm of silence before you once again broke it, “Do you have many direwolves Lord Stark?” “I do indeed princess, our lady just had a litter of pups a few moons ago.” He elaborated further. “I do so love Direwolves, I find them very beautiful.” You smiled, thinking back to your previous trip up north. “You have been North princess?” He asked, mildly surprised. “Yes, never as far as Winterfell though, and not for many years now.” You replied sadly. “I shall extend an invitation the moment I return home, if you are not with me that is.” He returned, a smile spreading across his lips as he finished speaking. “How very forward Lord Stark, whatever would my brother’s think?” You teased, a slight blush forming over your cheeks at the pleasant thought. “They would think that-” He began before he was interrupted, “Sister, Aegon has been searching all over for you.” Aemond muttered, pushing himself away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “Of course brother.” You replied, turning to face Cregan Stark and wishing him a brief farewell before pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering something into his ear, “I would very much like to take you up on your offer Lord Stark.” You finished, pulling away with a soft smile before following an awaiting Aemond out of the gardens. 

“You smell like wet dog.” Aemond muttered as you caught up to him. “Don’t be mean Aemond.” You replied, giving your brother a quick glare before continuing, “I rather like him.” You both fell into a silence shortly after and soon enough you were once more in the throne room. “Sister!” Aegon grinned as the room fell silent again. “Brother.” You replied, standing in the doorway, “What is it you needed me for?” You asked, refusing to step further into the room. “We must continue, my dear, there are many more suitors.” He grinned, inviting you to sit beside him as you reluctantly walked forwards. 

Suitor after suitor came and went before Cregan Stark was officially presented as a suitor himself. “Lord Stark, Warden of the North, your highnesses.” The herald announced as you immediately sat up straighter and a smile appeared on your lips. “Lord Stark, how good it is to see you again.” You smiled as the Lord bowed his head at your brother. “The sentiment is shared princess.” He replied with a smaller smile dusting his cheeks. “Have you seen a dragon before, my lord?” You asked. “I’m afraid to say I haven’t princess.” He answered. “Well then, you must allow me to show you mine, it is only fair that should I meet your direwolves you should meet my dragon, is it not?” You smiled before leaning back against your chair. “I believe so, your highness.” He grinned before turning to your brother to say the usual proposal. 

“So Lord Stark, are you ready?” You smiled, taking his hand as you pulled him down the corridor towards the dragon pit. He only laughed in response, a smile spreading across his features as you enthusiastically danced down the hallways. “Rhaegon Iksan kesīr! (I am here!)” You called out as you entered the pit. “Qilōni's iā sȳz valītsos? (Who’s a good boy)” You whispered as you approached your dragon, followed by Cregan Stark. “Bisa iksis cregan Stārke, issa iā raqiros, sagon sȳz (This is Cregan Stark, he is a friend, be good.)” You murmured, reaching your hand out to pet the dragon before turning to Cregan and speaking, “This is Rhaegon, he is nice, do not worry.” You smiled, reaching your hand out for Cregan to take. When he did, you slowly brought it up to Rhaegon’s nose before releasing your hold. “sȳz valītsos (good boy)” You whispered, walking along the side of your dragon before speaking again, “ilagon (down)” You spoke before Rhaegon lowered himself to the ground. “Come, lord Stark.” You grinned, once again offered your hand for Cregan to take. “You are very unexpected princess.” He chuckled, taking your hand. “What did you expect my lord?” You laughed, climbing on top of Rhaegon as Cregan followed after, more slowly. “Call me Cregan and maybe I will enlighten you princess.” He returned, hands wrapping around your waist as Rhaegon began to move. “Only if you stop calling me princess Cregan.” You replied, gripping onto the reigns as you felt Rhaegon about to take flight. “It would be my pleasure, Y/N.” He muttered, now fully pressed against you as Rhaegon took off. 

“Is it not freeing?” You laughed, turning to face Cregan who looked pale as a ghost. He silently nodded but the grip he held on your waist spoke otherwise. “You have to trust me for a moment.” You chuckled as he froze and stared up at you in horror as you handed him the reins, “You just have to hold them for a few minutes, Rhaegar knows what to do.” You finished, standing up as you spoke much to the horror of the Stark Lord. “gīda rhaegon, ao gīmigon skoros naejot gaomagon (calm Rhaegon, you know what to do).” You called before jumping off of your dragon. “Princess!” You heard Cregan call in horror after you. With a large smile you opened your arms and grabbed a hold of the pieces of fabric. “I told you to trust me my lord.” You said as you flew alongside your dragon. “Where are we going Princess?” He asked, his eyes now filled with amazed horror. “Where would you like to go Cregan?” You countered, a softer smile now spreading across your face at the sight of Cregan Stark atop your dragon, his cheeks pink and his eyes so beautifully alive. “You are very pretty my lord Stark.” You murmured, landing back on your dragon. “Many people have called me many things, no one has dared to call me pretty before my princess.” He chuckled as you sat down facing him. “No one has seen you like this before.” You returned, lying down on your dragon's back. “Well thank you princess, you too are pretty.” He chuckled, tentatively lying down beside you. “You never said where you would like to go, I hear Dorne has very pretty views.” You suggested, turning to face Cregan. “My lady, you are by far the prettiest view a man could ask for.” He replied, making your cheeks flush red as a flattered grin spread across your face. “If the fierce and scary wolf of the north thinks I’m pretty I must be doing something right, but do not flatter me too much else I will become insatiable.” You countered, attempting to cool your cheeks down. “Maybe that was my goal princess.” He replied, moving slightly closer to you. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” You returned, also moving slightly closer and then before you could continue your speech you felt lips press against your own. 

“I do believe that is the most forward you have been my lord.” You chuckled before pressing your lips to his after the first kiss ended. “Is that such a bad thing?” He chuckled as you began to kiss along his jawline, “I do believe it was rather attractive.” You replied, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Glad to hear it princess.” He smirked before chasing your lips. 

“Brother, where is our sister?” Aegon asked, storming through the doorway. “Riding.” Aemond replied nonchalantly, eyes not leaving the book he was reading. “And where is the Stark boy?” Aegon continued, Aemond immediately lifting his eye to stare in horror at his brother. “She would not…” Aemond muttered before realising that you very much would. 

“Sȳz Rhaegon (Nice Rhaegon).” You whispered, climbing down from your dragon before assisting Cregan to do the same. “He is most impressive, my lady.” He smiled before taking your hand in his and walking you out of the dragon pit. 

“Thank you Lord Stark, I shall discuss matters with my mother. I do hope to see your direwolves soon.” You smiled as Cregan pressed a kiss to your hand, the appearance of a gentleman returned to his face. “I shall make my proposal in the morning princess.” He smiled before bidding you goodnight. 

That night sleep entirely evaded you and, after much deliberation, you crept down the corridor, notebook in hand. When you reached the gardens, a sigh of relief at not being caught left your lips before you sat yourself down on the grass and began to draw the flowers surrounding you. 

“Princess.” You heard Cregan speak from behind you. “Lord Stark.” You replied with a smile, glancing at him before returning to your drawing. “Sleep evades you too I see.” He muttered, sitting beside you. “That it does my lord.” You agreed, closing your book as you grew content with the sketch. “I am very much looking   forward to seeing Winterfell my lord.” You murmured, briefly closing your eyes to imagine the future you were looking forward to. “There are a few things I may be looking forward to more.” He hummed, his hand coming to rest atop of yours. 

-

“No.” Your mother said after you enquired about your betrothal to Cregan Stark. “Why, mother, he is a fine candidate.” You pleaded with her only for a slap to arrive on your cheek. “You will not argue with me about this. You are to marry Ser Horton.” Alicent hissed before nodding to Ser Criston Cole who dragged you to your rooms. “Let me out!” You screamed, banging on the now locked door. “You are to remain here until your wedding day princess.” Ser Cole spoke through the now locked door before you heard the sounds of fading footsteps. 

That was all three days ago. You had refused to eat, drink and most importantly refused to comply with any wedding arrangements. When the seamstress arrived you refused to rise from your bed until you were dragged form it by Ser Cole, then you refused to stand still or upright, and when that failed once again thanks to your mother’s lapdog, you resorted to hitting the seamstress, not before slipping her some money as she worked alongside a whispered apology before you did so. Until your mother cancelled your wedding, you were determined to stop her from being able to wed you.

“My lady, I have a letter.” Your servant, and probable only friend, Elayne spoke as she walked into the room holding your breakfast. “If it is from my mother I would rather you burn it.” You groaned, refusing to rise from your bed. “It is from Lord Stark, my lady.” She spoke, causing you to sit up straight and quickly move to take the letter from her. “What does it say, my lady?” Elayne asked after a few moments in which you read the contents. “He wishes to meet me tonight.” You said happily, glancing up at your friend who nodded, “I shall do as you wish, my lady. Just be safe.” She agreed, curtseying slightly as she left your food on the table in your chambers. 

That night, you waited until Elayne arrived to prepare you for bed before quickly handing her your clothes and slipping yourself into one of your more light dresses. “Thank you.” You whispered before sneaking out through one of the many passages within the red keep. You quickly made your way out of the castle before moving in the direction of the town, only to realise probably too late, that you had very little clue as to where you were headed. It was mid way through your wondering when you felt an arm wrap around your waist causing you to attempt to let out a scream only for your mouth to be covered. “Easy, princess.” You heard the voice of Cregan Stark speak, turning his back to the street as golden cloaks patrolled past. “I thought you were a drunk.” You hissed, pressing your forehead to his chest. “I have missed you.” You murmured, a smile creeping onto your lips as you spoke. “And I you, princess. Now shall we?” He returned before offering you his arm which you happily accepted and together you entered the tavern.

He led you over to a table full of several other men, who you assumed to be Northerners as well, and three women who worked at the tavern. “Who’s this, Cregan?” One of the men spoke up as the two of you neared the table. “That’s the princess, Laroy. You fool!” Another one of the men answered for you. “By the gods, are you lost or something?” Laroy chuckled as you and Cregan sat down at the table. “Hardly, she looks utterly at home beside Lord Stark here.” A third man spoke up, causing the three of them to chuckle. “What can we do for you?” The second man asked, turning to you. “Wine, please. I’ll pay. Just put it on the royal tab.” You replied. “That alright?” Cregan asked, his arm moving around your waist. “The least I could do was make my mother pay extortionate amounts of money for alcohol she’s not drinking.” You replied with a smile. “Alright then, a wine for the lady and…” The man continued, now turning to Cregan. “Ale, as usual.” He answered before turning to you. “I heard of your sudden betrothal. I am sorry.” He spoke, his voice solemn. “My mother sprung it on me as well. I truly wish it were you.” You replied before an idea sprung to your head, “They say Stark’s keep their vows. Do they speak true?” You questioned, a grin coming across your mouth. “That they do.” Came your reply. “What if we were to say vows to each other, would you keep them then?” You continued, moving closer to Cregan. “Without a second thought, princess.” He replied, reciprocating your movements. “What would you vow?” You asked, lips nearly touching. “I would vow to ensure that you were never for hunger or thirst.” He replied, his voice deep. “And if I told you I was starved?” You replied, causing him to smirk in response. “Are you?” He murmured as a reply. “Of a sort.” You let your hand crawl up his leather clad thigh, the muscles rippling under your touch as the lord shuddered slightly as your fingers carried on up his chest. “Then, I would have to fix that.” He growled before pressing his lips to your own as his hand moved around the back of your neck. 

There was a sudden bang that interrupted the two of you as the doors to the tavern flew open to reveal your furious brother, Elayne in tow. “Fuck.” You hissed, fear spreading across your body as Cregan moved to cover you. “It’ll be fine, princess.” You heard him whisper in response, his hand resting on your thigh as he began to move it in an attempt to soothe you. You watched in terror as your brother scanned the room, searching for you. As his eyes fell on Cregan’s table, you watched as his jaw clenched in rage before he stormed over towards you. “Sister.” He snarled, looming over your shaking form, Cregan’s hand still on your leg. “Brother.” You replied nervously. “Mother has been looking for you. She went in only to find this whore asleep in your bed.” He continued, eye narrowing as he saw Cregan’s hand, “Or maybe you, sister, are the whore.” He spat before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you away from the table. “Ser Cole!” He called as Criston walked in. “Yes, my prince?” He replied, “Ser Criston, have these men escorted to the edge of the city, I want them gone by morning. I fear there has been treason this evening.” He commanded. Ser Cole nodded and he and his men stepped forward. You quickly looked at Cregan, wide eyed before he mouthed something to you that calmed your terror slightly. 

As Aemond dragged you out of the tavern, you dug your feet into the ground, trying to pull away from him, ignoring the slight twinge in your ankles as you did so. However he was too strong, his bruising grip growing tighter the further he dragged you away from the man you loved. “Aemond let me go!” You screamed, trying to yank your hand from his grasp as he pulled you into the keep. 

“What were you thinking!” Your mother screeched at you, sounding all too like a banshee for your own comfort. “Whoring yourself out to every man you saw?” She continued, eyes blazing with a fury you’ve never seen before. “If you would just let me wed Lord Sta-” You began before another slap landed on your cheek. Tears welled in your eyes at the sting before your mother sighed and knelt down, cradling your face, “I just want what’s best for you, my love.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead as she nodded to Aemond who dragged you towards your room. 

You waited there, furious, until the first signs of daybreak when you, yet again, ran from the keep. You ran until you reached the edge of the city where Cregan and his men were waiting. “Cregan.” You breathed, running up to him. ��Princess.” He replied, his arms pulling you against him. “Let us leave before they realise I’m gone.” You muttered hastily. You watched as he nodded and climbed onto his horse before offering you his hand, pulling you up in front of him. “Your dragon?” He questioned. “It’ll be too cold for him up north.” You replied sadly before smiling at him, “You are all I need. Do not worry.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw as the horses began to depart. The trip was harsh, the bad weather initially slowing the horses, but the further you got from King’s Landing the easier the roads were to travel, meaning the journey only took just over two months opposed to the expected three and potential four depending on the weather. As you rode up to Winterfell you felt relief like you’d never experienced. A wave of sudden, unexpected, happiness came over you. As you left the saddle of your horse, you turned to Cregan and pressed your lips to his. “Thank you.” You murmured against his lips before kissing him again in the middle of the courtyard. “Brother, must you surprise me every time you return?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Sara.” You watched Cregan grin, wrapping his arms around the woman. “Princess, this is my sister Sara.” He introduced. “It is a pleasure to meet you Sara.” You smiled as she brought you in for a hug. “What’s a princess doing all the way up north?” She asked after releasing you. “It’s a long story, but she is to be Lady Stark soon enough.” Cregan replied, noticing your hesitancy to speak of your running away. “Then, I am pleased to meet you, sister.” Sara spoke, her smile growing wider as she took your arm and spoke of a tour of the keep whilst the men unpacked. 

You and Cregan were wed the following moon under the Weirwood tree and before the old gods, and since you left King’s Landing you had not been happier. 

-

“We do not have to attend my love, it is a long trip, and I worry that something may go wrong.” Cregan murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek before moving them down your jaw. “I know, but my aunt is fighting for her family, I feel it is only right we show our support for her as well.” You replied, bringing one hand into his hair and the other to rest on your stomach. “It won’t be long now, my love.” He smiled, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to the bump. “I know. I still believe it’s a boy.” You sigh, leaning against the bed frame. “I know, however, I have always wanted a girl.” He muttered, leaning against your stomach as he spoke, one hand rubbing gently along your skin. 

The journey down south was not as horrible as it could have been, but due to your current physical state it was significantly harder than the journey to Winterfell. Upon your arrival, you were greeted by Rhaeyra and her three children, alongside your uncle. “Princess.” You greeted, dismounting from your horse. “Niece.” She replied before the two of you broke into a grin. “I am happy for you.” She spoke, pulling you carefully into a hug. “And I for you, Rhaenyra.” You replied, happily embracing your eldest sister. “Lord Stark.” You heard Daemon greet your husband as he emerged from tying up your horses. “Prince Daemon.” He replied, smiling as you walked over to him. “Hello my love.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he spoke. “Be nice.” You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before the two of you moved to greet Rhaenyra’s children. “They are beautiful Rhae.” You smiled up at your sister. “Thank you, how far along are you?” She asked, wrapping her arm around her eldest child. “Six months now.” You answered, leaning your head against your husband. “I hope you will be as blessed with your children as I have been with mine.” She smiled before you all fell silent upon the arrival of your family. 

“Sister.” Aemond was the first to speak, his voice cold and his eyes full of anger. “Aemond.” You replied, moving closer to your husband as your hand came to rest on his chest. “Daughter.” Alicent greeted, seemingly happy but as you watched you saw the same hatred in her eyes the night you left. “Your majesty.” You replied coldly. “It appears we have been too late to greet either of you immediately, our apologies.” She spoke, turning to face Rhaenyra and Daemon who both looked highly unimpressed. “I imagine plotting does take some time.” Daemon replied, the faintest smirk gracing his lips as you smiled softly at his words. 

I have a Harwin Strong version (similar not exact) if anyone is intrested in that either?

[nanamimizz]

please. please elaborate on gale penis (imagine me on my knees looking up at you pathetically shaking with big tears in my eyes)

a/n: ask and you shall receive

tags: 18+ minors dni, cleric reader, sacrilegious content (i think), male receiving oral, set in act 3, cum swallowing, fem reader - let me know if i missed something!

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝚶𝐍 𝚶𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐏𝚬𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐑𝚶𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘

Gale thinks you to be sweet - and finds you can be messy in equal measure. You are not refined, you are young and inexperienced. The latter changes everyday and night, however, when you grow more familiar with the taste of his lips and the pleasure he brings onto your skin. Which usually means his head is buried in between your legs for just shy of an hour.

Gale is many things to many people, a charming gentleman, a learned wizard but not coy. Never does he not know what he wants and most nights what he wants is you crying on his tongue while he squeezes as much of your pleasure he can from you at the end of each day. It appears even this is being proven part in what he teaches you, the way you drop to your knees with the same fluidity you display when you pray to your god, after tugging his robes most insistently. You murmur pleas, begging for him to disrobe and Gale wishes he had the heart to soothe you with words before letting the fabrics that cover his form loose from their bindings. His purple overcoat is undone but still on his shoulders when you tug at his bottom layers until they are down to his thighs. His cock is half hard - you always pull at the strings of his lust with a simple smile and Gale blames it on his year of celibacy for his sensitivity.

You take the head of him into your mouth, the tip of his cock that leaks pearls that can be found in the clams that enjoy the Waterhavian sea and lick him sweetly, reverently. Your pretty eyes are closed - settled into the rhythm that you suckling mouth sets. You lick, you suck and wrap your hands that heal his wounds so lovingly around the base of his shaft. He shivers under your grasp like your touch alone electrifies him. It most likely does given the way he breaks into gooseflesh and shivers at the sight of his slick clinging your lips when you pull away to take a breath. His hand settles on your head, thumb rubbing at the pointed tip of your ear.

“I didn’t expect a cleric to be so ravenous - you should maintain a bit of your holiness shouldn’t you?” Gale teases emptily, his petulance for verbosity shining even when on the frayed ends of lust that seek to devour him just as the dormant orb that rests on his chest. You open your eyes at just half mast; it’s almost to drive him to madness to gaze at with such sinful eyes.

“I’m not a holy person tonight,” you utter with your voice rough. Your hand, the right one finds itself setting a soft pumping pace that makes heat curl around the base of his spin. You press the gentlest of kisses to his slit, let him leak over your lips that shape the words of prayer often to your dawn god now taste like the salt of him. His cock has a weight that makes it burn in your soft grasp, seven inches from tip to hilt and the thick hair free from any gray strands tickle you when your hand or head brushes against it. Every inch of Gale is perfect in your eyes, and you close them to place more saccharine presses of your lips to the shaft of him.

“I am weak to my desires. My need for you transcends any holiness.” you confess, the words heavy just like the cock you taste your tongue. Eyes closing as you let it slip on the underside of his shaft slowly and sweetly. Gale whines, high and thin letting his head knock back against the wood of the room you tugged him into but manages to let out one quip before succumbing to the pleasure you give him so easily.

“That’s quite bold..even vulgar perhaps.” He pants, eyes just as hazed as yours when begin to take the top of his into your mouth. You don’t say anything back this time, only moan at the taste of him and relax your mouth - and let your instincts do the work. You make it to the middle of him before swallowing again, breathing deeply through your nose as you keep pumping the parts of him you can’t take yet. His cock has a curve to it, going up to the sky the tiniest bit in a way that makes you squeal when it’s inside of you but rears its ugly head when you want it down your throat. You persist, your stubbornness won’t deny him his pleasure, he recalls fondly as you gag when the leaking slit of his cock pressed against the top of your throat. Through his own lidded gaze he watches how your thighs tighten - pressing together and growing sticky and wet with arousal.

Your pleasure is his pleasure, and his is yours. A rule written in between the marrow of your union and Gale groans at the idea of returning this sweet favor with the taste of your honey in between his lips. He whines when you succeed, taking all of him to the base with your nose pressed up against the hair on his pelvis. You are a sight for sore eyes, one that makes him almost weep from aching pleasure as you begin to grow teary eyed at the strain of your jaw to accommodate him. His bones burn, his blood bubbles and he murmurs your name like a prayer. His heart stops and he wonders if the orb could be going off.

Let it, Gale thinks as everything in him is spilling out for you to lick - to taste and to swallow, nothing could take him from this moment.

“Oh - oh, my sweet let me, let me pull out-” Gale begs with a ruined voice and a half thinking mind. There’s the vague notion of releasing into a tissue or in your hand, something that’s easier to clean but you don’t let him. You nudge yourself closer, letting the softness of your chest be pressed up against the thickness of his thighs as the river of your arms meets the ocean of his waist to keep him still as he finishes with a rough groan of your name. Pleasure makes his ears ring, blood thrumming behind his spotted vision as you swallow around the salty-sweetness of his release. You stay where you are, humming and moaning around his length sweetly until he hisses; pushing your head back until the final pearl rosary bead is spilled from him and onto your lips.

The satin skin is flushed, brightened and glistening from the shine of what you couldn’t swallow. Gale found himself in a trance, eyes blown out like the dark abyss that sucked the Weave into his chest as he let his thumb drag to wipe at a small bead left on his spent on your lip. You did not remove your gaze from his, letting your tongue catch and drag against the pad of his thumb with a small pleased huff. You kiss the digit faithfully and Gale shudders beneath the gentleness of your affection.

“Oh, my love. You will be the end of me.”he confesses to you, face lax and posture only supported by the Elfsong Tavern’s walls. You kiss the still sensitive, still reeling head of his cock and smile saccharinely at how he jumps from the sensitivity.

“I hope not, I can’t wait to worship you again.”

Well, Gale thinks, maybe he can hold on just a little longer.

[intynidad]

The cult leader yan fic is so @#*")-/_+&-?! I can't explain it but *eats fic from how good it is*

Also, I would like to know what does the deity think about the influx of followers, but not for him but for them?

-teacher anon (am I really an anon if I don't ask anonymously LMAO anyways)

I hope my fix tasted well lol

I’m glad you like it so much! Welcome teacher anon!! Also have anyone play cult of the lamb? Because this is inspire by it lol

Yandere cult x cult leaver reader x yandere deity pt2

You sink to your knees, your hands clasped in prayer, as your consciousness begins to drift away, transcending to the ethereal realm of your master.

In the depths of this mystical connection, a resounding voice booms around you, its source elusive yet all-encompassing. It speaks with a commanding presence, echoing from every corner of your being, as if the very fabric of existence is alive with its words.

"Little lamb..." the voice reverberates, its power resonating through your core, drawing you deeper into its enigmatic embrace.

“Master, may I speak freely?” You said still looking into the ground

“You may, my little priest…” Only when your master gives you permission do you dare to rise from your feet, no longer in you cabin but in a dark void where you feel the very fabric of darkness crawls and grabbing your body, not in a malicious way but in a way of making sure you don’t fall.

“You did what I asked you…?”your master say with difficulty

“Yes master, your flock is growing and many people have done the oath in your name”

“Yet they do not follow me” your master booming voice rise in volume

You get to your Knees again and put your hands together.

“They are-are just mindless lambs that do not understand the magnificent of your presence my lord, give them some time and they shall learn” you say not fearing for your life, yet for the ones of YOUR followers

You felt an invisible hand take your cheek delicately

“Make them understand, little lamb and i shall reward you with pleasures and salvation that your human mind cannot comprehend yet”

And with a movement of the same hand you were gone,back into your cavin with a small tear falling down your face.

Meanwhile, in the ethereal realms of your master, a powerful figure gazes upon the chains that bind their form. The once unyielding iron seems to have weakened, but its grip remains firm and unyielding. Despite the exertion and relentless struggle, every attempt to break free is met with the unrelenting resistance of the chains that hold them in place.

However, your master is a patient and tenacious being, having endured the weight of captivity for what feels like an eternity. The longing for freedom courses through their veins, fueling their determination and resolve. They refuse to surrender, even in the face of imminent liberation. The shackles may hold them for now, but the spirit of liberation burns brightly within, ready to seize the moment when the chains finally yield.

When he amasses a multitude of devoted followers and receives the offerings and sacrifices needed, the barriers separating the mortal realm and his ethereal existence will weaken. With each loyal disciple and every sacrificial act, his power grows, edging closer to the coveted goal of manifesting in a tangible form. The anticipation of that transformative moment fills him with an intoxicating mix of anticipation for when he finally gains a physical presence in the mortal realm, he will unleash his divine influence upon the world…

And claim you as his rightful spouse, he dreams of the day he might finally claim you and hear you scream but not from pain but from the pleasure he is planning to give you.

Once he get a physical form he will not let you go,his little lamb

[sandwitchstories]

Chance Encounter- Part 3: Epiphany

Part 3 of Chance Encounter was totally and completely unplanned, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

To read this fic on AO3 please click here!

Sukuna returns from a trip with Kenjaku to find out reader has been ill. The morning after a night of passion with his spouse, Sukuna has an epiphany.

(Better if you have read part one and two, but this can be read as a stand alone one shot. This is the backstory for Reader x Sukuna in my AU)

Part 1: Curiosity can be found here: Tumblr or AO3

Part 2: Serendipity can be found here: Tumblr or AO3

WC: 3100

CW: MDNI, Smut, AFAB reader, AFAB terms used to describe reader's naughty bits, creampie, oral f!receiving, true form Sukuna, four armed Sukuna, two <redacted> Sukuna (iykyk), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingingering, Sukuna's tummy mouth is absolutely its own warning, pregnancy mentioned at the very end, mentioned morning sickness but not described

You smiled as Sukuna filled you in on the details of his most recent jaunt with Kenjaku while he undressed in the privacy of your joint room. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the leech known as Kenjaku, but you could spend hours listening to Sukuna speak about anything.

You loved the way he spoke and the sound of his voice. He spoke with an elegance one would not expect. You had once asked him about that and he had replied with something along the lines of just because others think you are trash does not make it true and that one should always hold themselves to the highest standards.

Your mind wandered to the past and you took a moment to reflect on it. That day in the market, when you decided to come home with him, had been the first day of the rest of your life and you hadn’t even known it. Coming back to this estate with him that day was the best decision you had ever made. 

The first time you saw him, that chance encounter, would always be etched within your mind. He was beautiful, and you had wanted to have him for the night. And then that night turned into many more. Now three years later you sat here, married, and basking in the glow of the life you were building together.

Sukuna interrupted your thoughts with a sudden statement in a stern tone. “I am concerned.”

“About what, my love?” You asked as you lounged naked in bed watching your husband disrobe. Sukuna was just so damn beautiful. At 7’3” made of solid, bulging muscles with 4 arms, he was an imposing sight. But every single inch of that man was carved perfection to you. You couldn’t wait for him to slide into these silk sheets next to you To climb on top of him and-

“Uraume told me you were vomiting the whole time I was gone,” Sukuna looked at you over his shoulder.

“They are such a busy body,” You huffed and crossed your arms. 

“So you have been,” he removed his kimono and threw it over the bamboo changing partition before turning back to you, hands on his hips. “What ails you?”

“I’m fine,” you smiled at him. “Now, hurry up. Get naked and get over here. Your wife has missed you.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, “Are you feeling ill currently?”

“No, far, far from it,” you bit your lip and unabashedly ran your eyes over his form. That was your man. Your territory. Your beloved. Your everything. 

He hummed at you, eyes narrowing and head tilting back slightly as he decided if he believed you. You knew exactly how to derail his thought process and stop his line of questioning. You slid the crimson sheets off of you as you rose to sit facing him on your knees. His eyes hungrily took in your nude form, pausing on your breasts before going lower. You parted your thighs as his gaze drifted lower. His belly mouth licked its lips and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. 

“Tell me. How much did you miss me?”

“I would much rather show you. Come. Here.” You crooked yer finger at him, beckoning him to move towards you. 

“Show me then.” He chuckled at your pouty face. “Aw… What’s the matter, precious one? Can’t show me from here?”

“Not the way I want to,” you gave him an even more exaggerated pout with your plump bottom lip as low as it could go. 

“And what is it that you want to show me?”

“All the things I have been missing and dreaming of while I was left here all by my lonesome.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Uraume was here.” One of his large hands moved to cup his hardening cock through his pants. “Tell me about these things you missed so much.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your eyes followed the movements of his hand on his cock. Well, two can play that game. You moved to be sitting with your legs stretched out in front of you. You ran your hands down your body to cup your breasts, staring at him as you squeezed them. “I’ve dreamed of how much I missed your hands on my body, touching my skin.”

“Keep going.”

You bit your lip as you toyed with your nipples, pulling on them as they hardened. One hand drifted lower down your stomach. You watched all 4 of his eyes following your hand, making you clench around nothing but your own longing. You braced on one hand as you brought your knees up and placed your feet on the bed, spreading your legs wide open for him. You stopped with your hand on your lower stomach.

“I did not say to stop, did I?” he asked, his voice taking on a tone that made molten lava pool between your thighs. 

You slid your hand lower, sliding your fingers through your slick lips, moaning softly as your fingers brushed over your throbbing pearl. You closed your eyes as you slid two fingers into your cunt, pumping several times. Your head leaned back just slightly as pleasure started coursing through your veins. “My fingers don’t feel nearly as good as yours or your cock.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said with a snide chuckle.

You opened your eyes, fingers still slowly, just barely pumping. You moaned softly at how hard you could see he was by the twin  tents in his pants he was palming. “Why must you keep me waiting?”

“You’re the one stalling, brat. You know what I want.,” he said, pulling his pants low enough to free his cock and balls. “Show me how you get yourself off when I am not here. Let me see you cum for me, precious one. And then I will make all of our dreams come true.”

“Our dreams? Have you dreamed of me too while you were away?” You asked, fingers smearing your slick up and down your pussy. “Did you miss me, Sukuna?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“I just like to hear it,” you bit your lip and rocked on your fingers before using your fingers to spread your soaked cunt open to his gaze. “Can’t you see how badly I need you? How wet I am for you?”

“Oh, I can. But I told you what to do to end this. Now, be a good little kitten and cum for me.” His eyes watched your hands as he stroked himself, his thumb smearing the pre across the tip. He decided to take a little bit of pity on you, merely because he was tired of your game and wanted to be buried balls deep inside of you already. “Cum for me so I can give you my cock. So I can fuck everyhold on that beautiful body that belongs to me. Cum for me so I can show you how much I missed you as well.”

His words along with frenzied strokes of your clit sent you over the edge. You cried out his name, throwing your head back as you came. You hadn’t finished riding your high before he was on you. One hand braced by your head. The lower two grabbed your legs behind your knees, spreading you wide and rolling your hips back so he had unfettered aspect to your pretty little cunt. The final hand gripped your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze as he shoved his belly tongue into your dripping hole. 

He grinned as you cried out again, louder this time, another orgasm slamming into you as you pulsed and throbbed on his large tongue. “That’s it, precious one. That’s it.”

Your hands buried in his hair, pulling him down into a passionate frenzied kiss as his belly tongue still licked, prodded, and swirled inside of you, devouring every single drop of your essence he could. Sukuna dominated the kiss from the start as he always did. One of his hands quickly gathered both of your hands and pressed them into the bed above your head, shackled by his grip. The hand that had been on your chin quickly replaced the tongue in your cunt. He wasted not a second on slow and tender. His finger thrust into you over and over again, making you cry out and arch your back as much as you could. 

“So wet for me,”  he growled, adding a second finger.

“Please,” You begged, trying to move against his fingers even with your thighs held open and pinned. 

He removed his hand from your pussy, sucking his fingers clean and groaning softly at your flavor. He shoved his fingers back into your pussy, pumping and circling the long thing digits several times before pulling them out and bringing them to your lips. You opened your mouth, taking in the digits and sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact. His little pervert.

“Make sure to leave some spit,” he said, leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth.

You did as he asked, moaning as his tongue replaced his fingers in your mouth. You shivered as you felt the fingers covered in your spit start teasing the tight muscle of your ass. His finger circling and dipping in a teasing manner before working it into you. 

Even though he broke the kiss, he easily kept you too occupied to focus on the discomfort as he worked you open for him. The giant tongue on his stomach was doing things inside of you that you couldn’t even try to comprehend. All you could do was writhe in pleasure beneath him. A trembling, whimpering, mess. 

Your orgasm came on suddenly and violently, making your whole body tense and arch before pleasure flooded your veins. You looked up at him with eyes clouded in pleasure and longing. “Please, Suk. Please. Need to feel you inside me.”

“You look so beautiful when you beg for my cocks,” Sukuna said, leaning down to kiss you again before sitting back on his haunches, eyes fixed between your legs. 

He gripped his cock, gathering your cream on the tip before pressing into you. The fingers still holding you spread for him tensed and he bit his lip at the feel of your hot, velvet tunnel welcoming him home.

He held your gaze as he rocked, feeding you more and more of his cock. Inch by thick inch. While he was not in the mood for the slow shit tonight, he was not going to hurt the one he loved by slamming balls deep into you in one thrust. He was aware of his size, and he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure. He never wanted you to feel anything negative associated with his touch.

You let out a soft groan as he bottomed out. “You feel so good.”

He leaned over and pressed kisses to your forehead and cheeks, gentle kisses and nips trailing down your neck to your shoulder. Sweet kisses on your lips while he tucked hair behind your ear. His large hands let your thighs relax and gently massaged the muscles. 

This gentle side of him was reserved for you and you alone. You relished the soft caresses from every one of his hands on your body. His teeth began sinking deeper into your flesh and you could feel his nails sharpening just enough to have a slight sting when they pressed in as his grip tightened. He ground his hips against you and you knew the, always short lived, sweet side of him had reached its end. 

“Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll make you feel even better.” 

Your heart sped up in anticipation and your pussy and ass clenched around his thick lengths. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling on it and letting it bounce back.  “Show me how much you missed me, Suk.”

His mouth captured yours and his tongue shoved between your lips demanding entrance as his hips started to move, pulling out a little more each time until he was pulling all the way out and shoving himself all the way back in. Sukuna was filling every part of you at once and your body felt like lightening was spreading like wildfire, coming alive for him. 

Sukuna broke the kiss. The hand pinning your wrists tightened and he yanked you back into the cradle of his lap, the nails of two hands biting into the skin of your hips. The third hand wrapped loosely around your throat, applying just enough pressure to be aware of its presence and make a shiver run down your spine. 

He smirked down into your cock drunk face with a lazy smirk that reminded you of a large cat taunting its prey. His hand tightened just a little as his hips picked up speed. “Did I dream of you? Did I miss you? What foolish questions those were. I’ll just have to fuck you, ruin you, until you understand you never have to ask such pathetic questions again, precious one.”

“So you did,” you smirked, moaning when he gave a sharp thrust in return, both cocks thumping deep inside of you.

He began thrusting harder and faster, taking pleasure in the way your tight little cunt squeezed and fluttered around one cock and your ass fit so snug and warm around the other. The tongue on his belly dove down to give your bundle of nerves a seat before diving in to feast, making you cry out loudly in pleasure and over stimulation. 

“I did, precious one, I did.”

Sukuna awoke to a god awful sound. “So you are still feeling like shit.”

“I wasn’t last night,” you quipped back, resting your forehead against your arm as it braced on the rim of the wash bucket you had grabbed to be sick in. You knelt on the floor not far from the bed, trying to summon any strength you had left. You took some slow deep breaths before you sat up. You wobbled a little as you stood, head pounding from the vomiting.

Sukuna scooped you up in his arms and laid you back down in your bed. He glared daggers at you as he knelt on one knee on the bed, leaning over you. His annoyance was plain as day. You could see the unvoiced questions being launched as almost accusations in his mind.

He was probably thinking about how you could use RCT or soul eating to heal yourself. He was probably thinking about how he could use RCT to heal and you hadn’t asked. Hell, even Uraume could have helped you. He was undoubtedly confused and frustrated by why you hadn’t gotten treatment but you knew more than anything he just wanted you to feel better, even if he would most likely never voice it.

He pressed his palm to your stomach and used his RCT to flood your body with the positive energy to heal you. He felt the warmth spreading from his hand. Except it shot back at him. He grunted and closed his eyes, focusing his senses more to snuff out the issue. He froze. His eyes shot open and locked with yours as he had an epiphany.

“I’m not sick, Sukuna and you cannot heal me,” you said, cupping his cheek. You gave him a teary eyed smile as your thumbs traced the line of his jaw. You pulled his head down to kiss his lips gently three times before resting your foreheads together as you spoke, hands still lovingly holding the back of his head. “I’m pregnant, Suk. You’re going to be such a wonderful father.”

[happiest-hotch]

Appreciation

a/n: so i was watching Don't Worry, Darling for the first time and all I could think about was the dining room table scene with Aaron, so I had to write it

Summary: You cook your husband dinner and he makes sure you get the appreciation you deserve

CW: oral sex (fem receiving)

WC: 1.5k

There's an evergrowing list of things you love about your life post-BAU. The reason you had to go into WITSEC was terrifying, and it changed your world and perception of security, but now that you're out of protective custody, things are better than ever.

Vermont being so beautiful helps, as does the lack of stress from Aaron choosing not to return to Quantico and his endless list of Unit Chief duties. After being with Aaron for a crazy six years, the slower-paced life is perfect. There are no missed dates and mutual guilt because Aaron always felt terrible for canceling last minute, and you felt bad that he felt bad. 

One of your favorite things is when he comes back from work. There's more than enough money between his FBI 'retirement' and your shared investments for him not to work, but he's thrived off structure for so many years that he's not ready to give it up. His hours are nothing like when he was at the BAU. There are no missed holidays, and he's never missed a school event of Jack's.

That morning, Aaron told you he'd be home 'late,' which is 6 pm these days, not 2 am. Although Fridays are date nights, you like surprising him, and you've got a few extra hours, so it seems like the perfect chance to make a more elaborate meal.

You're just turning off the oven to let the roast sit when you hear Aaron's key in the door. Excitedly, you skip over to greet him. 

"Hey, handsome." You say with a grin. Aaron in a suit is a pleasure you get to see every day.

He puts his bag and keys down on the side table. "It smells amazing in here." He notes. "Did you make a pork roast?"

You nod, not having the time to answer before he kisses you. Unlike the peck you were expecting, his lips are firm against yours as he walks you back through the house with his hands on your hips.

"With roast vegetables?" He checks when he pulls back, his lips only an inch from yours. 

"Mhm." You agree, but you can't tell him what specific vegetables you've cooked before he kisses you again. You're boring together, but you usually have a routine: a welcome home kiss, a drink, maybe some hugs in the kitchen, and dinner. His affection isn't anything new or unwanted, but it's notable.

"And those nice brussel sprouts?" He asks. 

You have to grab his face to move it away from yours so you can actually answer. "Yeah, because the only way you'll at them is with cheese."

Aaron kisses you firmly again, guiding you until your butt hits the table. "You love me." He sing-songs teasingly. 

You chuckle. "Yeah, I love you." 

"Good because I love you too." He replies sweetly. 

Then he's kissing you again with renewed vigor, and you're slightly stunned by his boldness. His hands drift from your waist to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the table with ease. On instinct, your thighs spread to let him stand between them.

"Mmm." You mumble against his lips, pulling back for some air. "What's gotten into you?"

"What? I can't thank my darling wife for a delicious homecooked meal?" He wonders, making it easy for you to identify what's made his eyes darken. "Jack's out, right?"

You brush your nose against his with a soft smile that he mimics. "He is, but how do you know it's going to be delicious?" You joke. 

Aaron chuckles, quickly coming up with a witty reply. "I'll thank you for the effort then." He decides.

You grin. "Alright, get to it." 

He winks, planting another kiss on your lips before sinking down to his knee. 

You're thanking yourself for wearing a dress that gives him quick access when he bunches the skirt further up your thighs. 

He starts with gentle kisses trailing up your inner thighs, designed to be loving and teasing. Your skin heats with his mouth on it.

"Someone had after-dinner plans for tonight." He teases, fingers tracing along your underwear- your lacy white underwear- to accentuate his point.

"The order wasn't important." You say through pressed-together lips to keep from moaning. 

His laugh pushes warm air against your core, making you tense on reflex. "Relax, baby." He instructs. "Let me take care of you."

You lay back, getting ready for what'll no doubt be a mindblowing orgasm. Aaron pushes your panties to the side, fingertip tracing over your most delicate skin. You can feel him smirking at how you quiver, completely at his mercy. Because this technically is your reward, he doesn't excessively tease you, and you barely have a few seconds before his lips are right where you need them. He starts with slow kisses up and down your slit before his tongue finally dives in, making you gasp.

"Fuck, Aaron." You moan as his tongue darts around, tasting every inch of you. "Feels so good."

Your praises make him double his efforts, pressing firmer into you with his tongue. Your walls flutter around him, but it doesn't do anything to dissuade his work as he keeps lapping you up. 

You card your hand through Aaron's hair, tugging him closer to you, and he gets the message. He moves his head from side to side, brushing his nose against your clit and making you squeal with delight. Like the expert at working your body that he is, he focuses on a different part of you, licking a fat strip with his tongue flat against you before reaching your clit. He anticipates your next move as well because his hand has been ghosting over your thigh, knowing you'd tease and try to close them, so when you do, he grips your thigh, spreading you again. 

"Baby." He growls in his low, warning tone. "Keep your thighs spread." 

"Okay." You agree, biting your bottom lip to keep from moaning at his hot breath fanning your clit. 

He notices because, of course, he does. "And I want to hear every one of those beautiful moans." To test that you're going to follow his instruction, his lips latch onto your clit, sucking firmly, and your jaw drops open, and a loud moan falls out.

Satisfied with you, he keeps the same movement going, focusing all his attention on your bundle of nerves, cycling between sucking and blowing and licking, with no order. You're screaming a mix of his name and curse words above him, feeling pleasure stream through your body. There's no doubt a proud smirk on his face, but your eyes are so tightly shut from the bliss that you can't see it.

"Please don't stop." You whimper, subconsciously rolling your hips against his face as you chase your high. 

"Ready to take my fingers?" He asks, his voice all low and deep against you.

"Please." You whimper out, overcome by the pleasure but still wanting more. As his middle finger slightly nudges you, you grip the edge of the table. He momentarily pulls off your clit, forcing you to focus on the feel of his fingers. He's swift with his motion to push it deep into you, resulting in a loud moan falling from your lips. His ring finger joins, stretching you open, and you silently thank the universe that he's part of the ten percent of left-handed people because the coldness of his wedding ring against your warm core is a delightful contrast.

You see stars when he starts to move his fingers, thrusting them in and out of you. "So good." You manage to moan out as you arch your back. 

"Here." He offers out his free hand to you, and you stop gripping the table's edge to hold it. You know he likes to feel how much pleasure he's giving you, so you squeeze it as he works you. 

His lips reattach to your clit, giving you so much bliss from both places, and you scream out as you get closer. 

"A-Aaron, I need to- shit- cum." You say, words no doubt slurred together. 

He knows, and he knows how to get you over the edge. "Mm-hmm." He mumbles against you. The added vibrations are enough to do it, making you moan his name while squirming on the table as you reach your high. He works you through it, lips, fingers, and tongue not letting up until you're gasping at the overstimulation.

Spent, you lay against the table as Aaron readjusts your underwear and dress before standing up. 

"That good, huh?" He asks despite knowing that, yeah, it really was that good. 

"Absolutely." You agree, letting him pull you upright with the hand you're holding his with. He leans in to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. "Thank you." 

"Thank you." He says. "Do you think dinner's burnt by now?" 

You shake your head, hopping off the table. His hands hold your hips, helping support your unstable legs. "The oven was off, so it's just probably cold." You assure him before smirking. "Oh, I meant to ask, since that was just appreciation for me cooking, what do I get if the meal actually is delicious?"

Aaron chuckles. "We'll see, but I have a feeling you've already got some requests." 

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 11

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here, ten here

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out. Like why are you even here leave. Very domestic, lots of fluff, established relationship, some anxiety, shower sex, P in V, Oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, marking, biting, possessiveness, slight sub/dom if you squint, cleaning, idk look I am tired and trying..

Synopsis: Updated synopsis, Travelling down to LA for the first time on Red Eye, you're both tired and a shower leads to some exploration.

Note: These are going to be spacd out going further as I have a fallout AU I want to start releasing. But these will still be coming out every 2-3 days <3 Thank you for all the love and support it's greatly appreciated!

The airport was somewhat quiet, the perks of taking a red-eye flight. The week had been a blur, Liz had resigned Wednesday leaving them to try and pick up the pieces. It meant a lot of early mornings late nights and meetings with production to try and make sure the end of filming went smoothly. No one batted an eye when you and Walton would hold hands on set. Or steal kisses in between trailers. It was nice to not have to hide things. Even though it seemed like everyone had known about the relationship long before you’d said much. From what you'd heard Walton never shut up about you. The thought made you flush, he'd taken to hanging out at your place. Making sure you actually consumed something besides coffee and whatever craft services had cooked up. 

Waking up next to him would never get old. He would often keep you snuggled in most mornings, playing with your hair, talking about people he had met. One evening you'd fallen asleep listening to him read one of the novels he had. There was a night he'd paced around your room spouting off lines as you plug info into your laptop. He had a heck of time sitting still, always moving and wiggling. 

You'd seen a few people watch the two of you move through the airport. It was a strange feeling always being watched. Security had recognized Walt asking for a photo which he happily obliged to. You’d snapped a couple of photos and then continued to your gate. The two of you tucked yourselves a good distance from everyone. Walton’s hand rested on your knee as his eyes moved over the sparsely filled space.

“Are you excited to see the city?” He asks, fingers playing along the inner seam of your pants. 

“Yes, I haven't traveled in a while. Little nervous,” You say, hand laying on top of his as you lean your head against his shoulder. 

“I'll get you used to traveling. Have a few places in mind we could go to.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head.

“Mmm, what plans do you have for us?” You reply, watching as a woman walks by for the third time. 

“Think maybe South America, I've always wanted to explore Peru, go south to Chili, see where it takes us. Go hike up the mountains, explore the jungles, and lie on beaches. Where no one will know us, just the two of us some good drinks and long nights.” He winked at you. 

“Going to sweep me off my feet, go on a grand adventure,” You tease, your hand dragging his up your thigh. 

He looks down at where his hand is situated, licking his lips before looking back up at you. 

“Oh, I am gonna take you on adventures, baby,” That southern drawl dripping out as he traces small circles over your inner thigh.

You let your hand slide along his pant leg, eyes still fixed on his face. Watching his cheeks turn pink. “So many promises, Mr. Goggins.” 

He grins leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your cheeks. You kiss him back leaning over the seat divider, you nip at his lips wanting access. Walton pulls away shaking his head.

“Gonna have to wait till we get home,” His voice is thick as he looks at you. 

You groan shifting in the chair, feeling yourself get hot as you rock slightly. “That is an awfully long time to have me wait. Don’t want to join the mile-high club.”

A chuckle escapes from him as he continues to rub at your leg, “I don’t know about you but those bathrooms are a lot smaller than they make them in the movies.”

“Well could always have a little nap,” You sigh resting your head on his shoulder. “Got to make sure I can keep up to my old man.”

“Hold on a second, who are you calling old? Pretty sure you were the one drooling in the car over here.” He poked at you, his hand grabbing at your pants.

“Cause I didn’t pass out in my trailer at lunch,” You jest, returning the squeeze.

“I am pretty sure you could have come over,” He grins standing up as the flight attendant calls for them.

“Kristy was having a breakdown, pretty sure she’d have quit if I hadn’t come to help.” You state as you walk up with your ticket on your phone.

The flight attendant blushes slightly when you walk up with Walton, she fumbles with the scanner slightly, apologizing several times. Walton assures her it’s fine and runs a hand over your waist. Her eyes looked between the two of you before handing you back your phones.  The two of you walk down the walkway to your plane, his hand firmly around your waist as he lead you into your seats.

“Oh, this is nice,” You state, first-class seats, enough legroom you could easily stretch out. Bags tucked away you settle in, the week seeming to catch up to you now that you’re finally on the plane. 

“Want to make sure you were comfy,” He says, getting himself settled beside you, lifting the armrest out of the way so he can drag you close to him. 

“You seem awfully possessive tonight,” You whisper in his ear as you slide up next to him.

“Got to make sure everyone knows that the pretty lady is mine,” He whispers back, voice so low that only you could hear. 

You can’t help leaning in to kiss him again, you loved kissing him. “Didn’t take you for the jealous type. Then again the number of bruises I have may have been an indication.”

Walton shifted in his seat, watching as the few remaining passengers boarded. “You interested in getting a few more marks added to that collection you have.”

You go pink and turn your face into his neck failing to hide the flush. Things had been pretty vanilla still besides the marking, but you knew he had plans for this weekend. What those plans were he wouldn’t tell you, but he had hinted that Saturday and Sunday were for you two to explore new things together. Then Monday and Tuesday would be spent going to various interviews and keeping him company. You had to stop yourself from wondering if you’d be able to walk on Monday if the ‘vanilla’ sex was any indication you were in for a ride. 

***

You woke to Walton kissing the top of your fingers, you had fallen asleep on the short journey to LA. The plane was unloading and a car was waiting for you both. The night sky was ablaze with city lights for as far as you could see in either direction. The airport was surprisingly full of people moving in and out. The one nice thing was everyone was way too busy to pay attention to you. 

Awake now as the car took you through the city, the lanes on the highways were insane, and you wondered how anyone could even drive there. You travel through the various streets and highways that would have you yelling at google maps. You finally pull up to his place, it’s sat back on the streets, with a tasteful rock garden out front. The driver drops you both off, helping to unload your bags into the house. It was beautifully decorated, with large windmill palms in the front entry, and several skylights to let in the sun. The walls are filled with tasteful artwork, it's a barrage of colors as you get into the living room. A patterned soft with a velvety green rug, one wall lined with heavy wooden bookcases full of books. You can see how each piece is something he picked out and has a story for each. You pause looking out to the backyard, a covered pool shaded by various trees. The place was glorious, elegant, and at the same time so him. You feel fingers twining with yours, turning to follow him down the hallway. Big wood doors open into a large bedroom. The bed is a simple navy bedcover with several large pillows, a wood headboard, two side tables everything matching, and plush carpet squishing under your toes. You tuck your suitcase against one of the walls, the far wall is all windows leading into the backyard. Turning all the way around you can see an open entrance to a large bathroom. 

Walton comes up behind you and wraps you up in his arms “Not too shabby hey?”

“It’s beautiful, can tell you put a lot of love into this place.” You say with a small smile, leaning against him, eyes closing as you just let yourself relax. It was nearly three in the morning and you desperately needed to sleep. But also the gross feeling from travel made your skin feel tacky. 

“Shower,” Walt, asked unwrapping himself from you, his hands pulling his shirt over his head. 

“I would love that, I always feel sort of gross after traveling,” You reply, as both of you strip out of clothes, you grab your toiletry bag out of your suitcase and follow him. A large deep tub was set against one side, and an equally large glass shower was at the foot. Walton dug out some towels, turning on the water. 

You couldn’t really remember the last time you’d been comfortable being completely naked with someone else in the room, besides during sex. A creeping realization that you had never really been in a ‘long term’ relationship. You’d dated and flirted, but nothing like this. This right here was so new, it froze you in place watching the man completely bare move around the space like he was clothed on a set.

“You alright, darling,” Walton asks moving over to you, your eyes watching how his skin moved, the way his hands came up to rest gently on your hips.

You had long since given up trying to hide anything from him, the man saw through your bullshit like he could read minds, “I’ve never been with someone like this.” Your cheeks grow hot as he watches you,  “I’ve never been in a long-term relationship.” 

The words hanging in the air for a moment, Walton pulling you closer to him tipping your head up to look at him. He leaned down and kissed you, the two of you standing chest to chest. Space cool and warm at the same time as he held you close. It was so strangely intimate and soft. Gooseflesh rippled over you as you just took in the moment. 

He pulls away just enough that you can both speak. “I couldn’t be happier, that you are comfortable here. But. Let’s not forget it’s 3 am, and I have several ideas for tomorrow that will not be half as fun if you’re exhausted.”

You smile snuggling against him, “Why do you always make sense?”

“Cause, I am wise beyond my years,” He scoffed leading you into the hot water, the water feeling incredibly comforting for a change.  

You lean into the water letting it flow over your body, his hands reaching out with soap to start cleaning you. Taking his time to wash your legs, and feet, scrolling up under your ass, and hands staying there a little longer which made you wiggle. He came up over your back, spinning you to face him, his eyes watching the water go down over your breast and stomach. Your eyes doing the same, his hair is wet and disheveled in his head, droplets following the expanse of his chest down along his abdomen. You lick your lips leaning down to lick from the middle of his abs up in between his pectoral muscles. Eyes looking up at his, the way his lids drooped eyes darkening. It doesn’t stop him, continuing to drag the soap over your stomach, under your armpits, breast fingers brushing against your nipples which make them perk up. You grab the soap from him turning him so he is more under the water, and you treat him to the same treatment he gave you. You stop, moving to drop to your knees, but his hand wraps around your waist and drags you up. 

“We need sleep first,” He says, but you can feel his cock poking against your abdomen. You can’t help reaching forward fingers sliding over the soft but hard skin.

You watch him swallow, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, as you work your hand up and down his shaft. A small hitch in his breath as his head tips up, you grin knowing you’ve won this battle. You let yourself slide down he moves so that you aren’t going to drown under the water. Licking your lips you keep your hand moving, you drag it out slightly, his eyes following you. Mouth parted slightly, delicious groans coming out, you look back down to where your hand is. You open your mouth and lean forward licking along the slit, his hands running into your hair, swirling your tongue under the head before sucking at it. The wide head and shaft fill your mouth as you do your best to take him all the way in. Breathing through your nose you hum at the salty musky flavor, holding yourself there until his fingers grip your hair. 

One hand resting on his hips, the other finding its way between your legs, you suck in through your nose and swallow. Getting a lovely echoing moan from the man above you. His hands gripping the side of your head adjusting your pace. You can feel between your folds how wet you are. Looking up at him his head tipped back as his hips move. You still yourself letting him use your mouth, he doesn’t push all the way pulling back when he feels you gag. You aren’t having it grabbing at his hips and pushing yourself down until your nose touches his stomach. Throat pulsing at the head as you do your best to fight your gag reflex. A stream of curses comes out a his thrust picks up speed, one of his hands coming to cup under your chin so he can feel himself going in and out. 

Pulling you off, you groan rocking against your hand as he pops out of your mouth. He motions you to stand and you comply, strong hands guiding you up to your feet. His mouth slammed against yours kissing you deeply, before he turned around, pushing your legs apart and tipping you over. Your hands catch you as you lean against the glass, water running over your back. His fingers push their way into your cunt, the quickness sending a small jolt of pain down you, keening as he thrust in and out quickly. Fingers were replaced soon with the tip of his cock. You rock back on your heels standing on tips so that it can slide in. Filling you up in ways that make you whine. 

His hips snap in and out of you with a fast pace that makes you feel almost dizzy as you try to keep yourself up, his hands gripped onto your hips tight enough that there will be bruises. He lets go briefly only to rub at your aching clit. Whimpering at the strain of keeping yourself on tiptoe and the punishing pace making you dizzy. The pressure on your clit having you right there. 

“Oh god, don’t stop,” You whimper, free arm tipping you up so that his cock changes his angle. Stars blind you as you climax, his fingers not stopping the movements around your bud, and your legs are shaking. He goes to pull out, but you’re grabbing him holding him there. His hips stutter until he pushes in holding you tight against him. You groan as you feel him filling you up, your breath caught in your throat as you go near limp. The water of the shower started to feel cool. He slips himself out, fingers running over your now aching hole. You move to stand but the day has finally caught up to you, he easily holds you up. Angling the shower to clean both of you of your excursion. 

“You just had to push my buttons,” He grins at you helping you out of the shower and wrapping you up in a fluffy towel. 

“Didn’t seem to mind,” You grin, eyelids heavy as you flop yourself down onto the bed. 

He humms his approval getting you under the covers before he snuggles up against you. 

“You better not complain tomorrow about being sore,” He pokes, letting himself slide in so he can rest his head against your chest. Your hand tucks under him running through the mess of wet hair. 

“No, complaints,” Your free hand making a cross over your heart. He chuckles kissing at an old bruise.

“Get some sleep,” He grumbles hand wrapped around your waist. 

Chap Twelve here

*if you'd like to be added to tag list, please comment below.

*sharing iscaring, and I am so happy you're all here. Much love <3

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 12

Masterlist HERE.

"I'm moving in so high

these visions overwhelm my mind

dimensions transcending by worlds

they tumble on in time

i'm pushing in so high

i'm searching for a piece of mind

this journey through inner skies we've got to fly"

The Rebirth – "This Journey In"

Was it possible to fall in love with someone all over again?

That was the question N'Jadaka asked himself watching his wife sunbathe topless on the deck while she chatted about her women friends back in Birnin Zana. Her evenly sun-baked skin looked liked the tops of baked dinner rolls drenched in butter from all the coconut oil she slathered all over. Her voice tinkled like delicate glass chimes and he gazed at her with heart eyes and a silly grin on his face.

His chest filled up with bubbly feelings listening to her talk. He melted in her presence, as softness flowed all through his insides.

A new bond had forged between them.

Encountering the sacred together transcended his feelings for Yani. That young woman had traveled in darkness on a hover bike to receive a message from his mother and in the process she was able to meet his parents and great-grandmother. They knew her. Loved her. Watched over her as their own daughter. Yani was given such a precious gift and her love for him poured out into him all that day.

"Your mother…not only was she beautiful, but she was so…I can't find the words. Glamorous? She looked like a goddess herself along with Nana Jean," she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

She lowered her gaze.

"And your father…I see why he was known as a heartbreaker here."

N'Jadaka grinned.

"They were a good-looking couple. No doubt about that," he said.

Yani sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. They had spent time recuperating from their trip in the cave an entire day. N'Jadaka watched over Yani as her body finally decompressed in a deep slumber. He had sat by her side on the loft bed making sure she was not alone in case she woke up in the night remembering the spiritual realm she had skimmed across. His own brush with the sacred twice in a lifetime still humbled him, so he knew that Yani would probably feel as he did from a profound encounter, and wake up many times adjusting to a new reality she was expected to move in henceforth. Encountering gods had an impact on the body and mind. As he knew she would, Yani roused from sleep several times, her body trembling and her grasp on his nearby hand anchoring her back to the human world. It took her several attempts to reach full sleep, and in that time, he left her side to eat and hydrate his own body.

The next day he ate on the top deck with her and they moved the houseboat closer to the shore in order to catch glimpses of the first flamingo arrivals into the territory. He urged her to relax and she chose to sunbathe seated next to him while he glanced through a book of Wakandan philosophers. He used a dictionary to help him with difficult Wakandan translations that had no English word equivalents.

"Riki looks so much like Califia that it's spooky. You, know what? Joba has N'Jobu's eyes, and his deep rich skin color for sure, and his energy. That calmness…she inherited his temperament…that gentleness with just a hint of fierceness underneath. I love the fact that Sydette has the same color eyes as Joba. It makes them look like true blood sisters."

"Mmmhmmm."

Yani stared at him.

"You are both of your parents in every way. Grandpop always said that, but I was able to see it for myself."

Her eyes welled up.

"I wish they could be here with us. They should be here with us," she said.

She wiped her eyes quickly. He stroked her leg and she clasped his hand, lifting it to her lips.

"I'm so lucky…so blessed," she whispered into his fingers.

He put down his book and pulled her against him.

"So am I, Yani."

They agreed not to speak of their experience to anyone.

That afternoon N'Jadaka moved the boat again out toward the cove view of the oldest forest in Wakanda. He watched his wife swim past him as they explored Umbono Cove's beautiful waters using specialized diving masks to keep up with a school of fish they followed underwater. Yani wanted to dive deeper and stay under longer.

Hunger brought them back to the surface and they ate beef patties and fried rice with jerk shrimp. Yani knocked out in a food coma on the deck lounger and he carried her back to the loft to sleep off her meal where she wouldn't get sunburned. He napped next to her for an hour and woke up energized.

His wife snored softly next to him.

He left her side and went for a swim alone. The sun had warmed up the tranquil clear water into a balmy soak for his skin. He had to be two shades darker by now. Floating on his back, N'Jadaka stared at the blue sky. He and Yani had a few more days left before they stayed at his family's private villa before the children joined them. Grinning in the water, he couldn't wait to see his kids. Time alone with Yani was a blessing, but having all of his babies with him and his wife gave him joy. He couldn't wait to have Sydette filling him in on all the happenings in Birnin Zana, and Riki sharing all of the gossip among his friend group and cousins. Joba would play in his hair and share her opinion on the opinions of Umama and the rest of the family. There was a synergy the children created when they were all together that made N'Jadaka proud to be a father. Fatherhood was not his dream for a long time. When he asked Disa to marry him as a young man, he knew children were a possibility, but they were not on his vision board. It was Yani that gave him the gift of fatherhood, and he learned to love it with Sweet Pea first and foremost.

He wanted to be an intentional parent with Yani, and once they returned to the palace, they'd have to start preparing Sydette for her rites of passage trials. Every child in Wakanda went through it at the age of twelve, and parents began to prep for it once their child turned nine. Sydette was excited, especially with Umama and Ramonda teaching Yani and him the proper way to prepare. When Sydette came of age, they would release her to women elders for a month in the ancient forests he could see from the water he floated in. The first step would be to prepare her hair, and Umama was ready to do it for Sydette after the honeymoon trip. His oldest child couldn't wait to wear the hairstyle for three years that told the public she was becoming a young lady.

N'Jadaka dove under the water. He wasn't ready for his firstborn to grow up already. She would always be his baby, but time would march on. In a few years she would be a teenager like he had once been. She'd probably want to test her limits and push against boundaries he and Yani set as loving parents. The best thing about being a father was having Yani be the mother of his children. Her love for them knew no bounds. She proved it by traveling to the edge of the ancestral plane for them…and him.

He couldn't get over that. His mind replayed finding Yani in the cave and hearing the voice of his unborn baby in his head over and over. Braving the wrath of Bast was something special. Her bold move to protect them warmed his heart all over again. He glanced at the houseboat. She was still asleep, hopefully resting well.

A large drone swooped over head and landed on the deck of the houseboat carrying a fresh load of gourmet food for the royal couple. N'Jadaka swam back to the boat ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He checked the list of food against what was inside the refrigerated container and began putting goods away before sending the drone back to the Royal Talon Fighter. Yani requested more Caribbean supplies with spices and food from the islands. Twyla made sure there were freshly prepared jars of green seasoning to save Yani cooking time.

His wife walked down from the bedroom wiping her eyes of sleep.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, pouring himself a glass of red wine.

"I heard the buzzing from the drone. Figured I'd better come down and start cooking. How does stewed fish and spicy dumplings sound?"

He rubbed his hands together, "Can you make the fried oyster rolls too?"

"Your wish is my command. Pour me a glass too, my sexy husband," she said.

He grinned.

"Swim trunks are sexy now?"

Yani trailed her index finger up his midsection.

"Everything is sexy about you. The first time I saw you swimming naked my mouth watered. I cursed your name too for being in my private space, but this body and that face could not be denied their due," she said.

"Are you flirting with me to get some dick tonight?"

Yani laughed and pinched his left nipple. She stepped away from him and washed her hands in the wide sink of the galley.

"I dreamed about your parents again," she said.

"Oh, yeah? Good dream?"

She nodded and paused her work gathering the ingredients needed for their meal prep.

"We were seated around a campfire and holding long sticks to toast marshmallows. Your father was telling me a story about teaching you to swim. Your mother kept touching his face and laughing…it was so real. They gave me comfort…like they knew I needed that from them. I looked up at the night sky and saw so many stars twinkling above me and I was at peace."

N'Jadaka grinned, pleased that she was in a good place mentally. He drank wine with her and she cooked a full meal that tasted better than any fancy restaurant could throw together. With a heavy belly, he sat on the deck with her and watched the sun go down and usher in a solitude they both needed. Yani lifted a fresh glass of red wine and he did the same. They clinked glasses and sipped all night.

Five days at the family villa invigorated Yani. The property had been in the Udaku family for three generations, but most recently had been used by Prince N'Jobu before he became a War Dog. An eager staff had greeted the royals when they arrived on a warm afternoon, and that same day, Yani and N'Jadaka learned about N'Jobu's playboy ways in detail. One of the housekeepers, Gorata, was an older woman who looked after N'Jobu. Her caretaking of the property gave her privy to the goings on of the villa and the dashing prince who treated her well. Although she was in her mid-fifties, Gorata held a youthful zeal in her face and movement, her long thick beaded locs only sporting a tiny sprinkle of gray at the roots. She gave Yani and N'Jadaka a tour of the grounds and showed them where the Royal Talon Fighter would land in an open grassy area when it brought the children later.

"Prince N'Jobu loved meditating out here. This place was like his bachelor vacation retreat. He'd walk along the river reciting poetry, or sometimes he would listen to music and sing. I loved his singing voice…so rich and full-bodied. The ladies loved that," Gorata said.

"Ladies?" Yani asked, peeking at N'Jadaka's face as she spoke.

The king stared at Gorata and the older woman grinned.

"Oh yes…Prince N'Jobu entertained many young noble women here. Sometimes he had parties with his friends that lasted for days when they wanted privacy. He was very popular. The young nobles loved coming here."

"I bet my grandmother was not very happy about parties here," N'Jadaka said.

"Kumkani, we were never allowed to let any of the elder royals know of his stay here. Sometimes…sometimes the women guests were not appropriate for the prince to be around," Gorata said.

"He had hookers come here?" Yani said.

"Oh no…Queen Yani…never. Prince N'Jobu often entertained non-noble elites, but they were not prostitutes. He was too good for anything like that. Royals are always supposed to be in the company of their status, but Prince N'Jobu liked commoners too."

"Commoners, huh?"

"High quality my queen."

"So this was his sex party house," N'Jadaka said.

Gorata laughed and covered her mouth.

"King N'Jadaka, you jest!" Gorata said.

"I mean, it is what it is…my father came here to be with women so my grandparents wouldn't know."

"Your father was very respectful and very discreet."

"Hmmm, I wonder if I should even be here," Yani said, flouncing around the area.

Gorata held up her hands toward Yani.

"Oh…Queen Yani, I did not mean to make you feel unwelcome. This villa is now your family abode. A bachelor pad no more."

"I'm only teasing, Gorata. Thank you for showing us around."

"I will take my leave now. The staff will have lunch ready for when the royal children arrive."

"Thank you, Gorata," N'Jadaka said.

The caretaker departed and Yani smirked at the king.

"Your daddy's hoe house!"

Yani cackled and N'Jadaka only smiled.

"I was told that they still have women and men on standby for private royal favors. Seems like a few of my older Wakandan cousins still use the place often."

"Interesting."

N'Jadaka glanced around.

"Are you ready to get the munchkins back?" he said.

"Yes. It's actually been too quiet without them."

She noticed his kimoyo beads lighting up in several different colors. His palace staff used color codes to prioritize his work load. He was already putting together his docket for his return. N'Jadaka tapped the beads and the colors dulled on his wrist. Yani patted his arm. She hadn't bothered to turn on her beads, preferring to hit the ground running once she returned. Her office manager S'Indiphile was left in charge of preparing Yani's calendar for her return with strict guidelines to prioritize charitable works overseas and her coming out events for the next two months. The elites from every tribe vyed for her attention and she was being very selective based on how she was treated by noble families tied to the Udaku clan. She knew the moment she turned her work beads on, her wrist would light up in rainbow colors like N'Jadaka's.

N'Jadaka reached for her hand and she took it. They strolled along the river's edge waiting for the Royal Talon Fighter.

"Kumkani, we are arriving in five minutes," Okoye said from N'Jadaka's beads.

Yani already sensed the vibratory hum of the aircraft and her heart thumped faster anticipating holding her children again.

"Here they come!' she yelped as they watched the Talon Fighter float over the landing ground.

N'Jadaka squeezed her hand. The aircraft landed with a gentle shaking of the ground around them and the off-ramp slid out. Okoye and Ayo walked out ahead of the children and waited at the end of the ramp.

Sydette held Riki and Joba's hands and they strode out into the bright sun wearing big wide smiles on their faces. Riki jerked away from her hold and Joba ran behind him to greet Yani first. Sydette hugged N'Jadaka's waist and looked up at his face.

"I missed you Baba," Sydette said.

He kissed her forehead before reaching over for the bouncy "twins".

"Sweet Pea, oh my love…I'm so happy to see you," Yani said.

She gave her oldest a deep long hug. Both parents couldn't stop hugging and kissing their babies and the children responded in kind. Love lingered all around them and Yani breathed a sigh of contentment. She carried a watchful energy around her brood too.

"Were you well-behaved with the Doras? It was your first trip traveling without the nannies," Yani said.

"We were good," Sydette said.

"Hungry?"

"Starving!" Riki yelled.

Yani caught sight of the villa staff bringing their lunch meal into the two-story villa. The comforting cool breeze made the interior pleasant for everyone. Yani led the children to the restroom on the first floor to wash their hands. N'Jadaka spoke to the Doras before relieving them for a long break. They would head out for the houseboat in the evening which only allowed their children a few hours in the villa.

Lunch was thick spicy sausage rolls and fries with a cool refreshing dessert of sliced fruit in thick sweetened cream. The children devoured everything like they had bottomless pits for stomachs and Yani admired her family being all together again. Sydette was of course spilling all the tea back home. Riki seemed happier since Twyla re-braided his hair differently from the girls. Joba was especially talkative revealing all of Umama's plans for Yani and N'Jadaka when they returned home. Their marriage pleased Umama to no end from the way Joba described it. For one thing it shut down the negative chatter from naysayers about the king being an unmarried father of three among her class. It also legitimized the children in a way that pushed the agenda of other nobles wanting to align with the family intimately. It was uncouth to overtly pressure match-making so young, but Yani was aware of elite families quietly leaning on Umama to favor their children for consideration in future betrothal marches when the time came. Umama was fiercely protective of her great-grandchildren, even more so since the Infinity War, but she was also a forceful mover and shaker since her return to Birnin Zana. People knew she was the only way to get into N'Jadaka's ear and stay close to the royal inner circle. Yani was much more in favor of letting the children develop their friend groups, grow into Wakandan culture more, and then letting them decide what life partners they wanted. Alas, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. Citizens were aware that she and N'Jadaka would have more children, and unlike the recent monarchs who only had one or two children, the possibility of snagging more than two direct descendants with choices that could join them with the most powerful family in the country was too valuable to ignore.

Joba waved her spoon around to get Yani's attention.

"What is it Sunshine?"

Joba glanced at Riki and he nodded his head encouraging her to speak for them.

"Mama, Riki and I want to have a pool party when we go back home. We told our friends we could have one when we came back before iholide starts. Can we? I know we are supposed to ask permission before we tell people things, but everyone might leave early before we get home," Joba said.

Sydette stared at Yani.

"We wanted to ask sooner but you were already gone and Umama was keeping us from disturbing you. It'll only be a few friends."

"How many is a few?" N'Jadaka asked.

Sydette's gaze dropped to her finished plate of food.

"About twelve…of my friends. And then there's Riki and Joba's friends…and Uncle M'Baku's kids."

N'Jadaka let out a whistle and Yani giggled.

"That's not a few people Sweet Pea, that's about forty kids running around the palace," he said.

"It won't be the palace, just the pool room, Baba," Riki interjected.

N'Jadaka glanced at Yani.

"I have a spa day with Twyla and my Ladies in waiting before my first day as Queen. You'll have to supervise," Yani said quickly before he dropped it all in her lap.

"Baba…please…" Joba whined.

N'Jadaka tossed his linen napkin on the table. He couldn't deny his youngest child anything.

"Okay, okay. Swim party it is. But just for the day, we're not dragging this out…what, Sweet Pea?"

Sydette's dimples popped out and she held up a finger.

"We kinda told everyone it would be a sleepover too. Camping in the garden to see the fireflies."

"Anything else?" N'Jadaka said crossing his arms.

"No dassit, Baba," Riki said grinning like he knew they pulled one over on them.

N'Jadaka latched his gaze onto Yani's. She sipped water from a glass.

"You are in charge," Yani declared.

N'Jadaka stood up from their meal table and the children pounced on him, knocking him onto the carpeted floor and wrestling him. He tickled every underarm and sandaled foot and the peals of laughter flew all around the room. The king lifted back to his feet and led them all back outside where he showed the kids the beauty of the grounds. Riki grabbed N'Jadaka's hand.

"I'm ready to get on the boat, Baba. Let's go!" Riki said.

Sydette and Joba bounced around him agreeing.

"You guys can't be bored with this place already," Yani said.

"We want to go diving and play on the water bouncy mat," Sydette said.

"The Doras have to rest," N'Jadaka said.

"Then you fly the Talon Fighter, they can sleep there," Riki insisted.

Yani touched Riki's shoulder.

"We respect our staff, Dumpling. They work hard to protect you and they deserve rest and time to eat. I know you're excited about the boat, but be mindful, yeah?"

Riki nodded.

"What's over there?" Joba asked.

She pointed to a big tree with thick limbs outstretched across the tranquil part of the river.

"Let's go see,' N'Jadaka said.

He took off running and their children squealed and chased after him. Yani strolled behind them enjoying the sight of her husband playing. It was so rare for him. The eager and excited chatter delighted her once the children noticed the swing tied to the tree that swung out over a giant pond.

Okoye met up with them holding a purple gym travel bag.

"I suppose the little ones would like to have their swimming suits?" Okoye asked.

N'Jadaka put his hands on his hips.

"I dunno Okoye, Riki said he was ready to go out to the houseboat already. I don't think he wants to stick around and use the pond swing."

Riki held up his hands in denial.

"I changed mi mind. I want to stay longer, Baba!"

"You sure? Because I'm pretty sure you were eager to jet outta here."

"Forget what I said. Thank you Dora Okoye."

Riki took the bag from her hand and his sisters followed him back to the villa to change.

"Thank you, Okoye," N'Jadaka said.

Yani grinned, "We'll probably end up leaving later than planned now that the children have this swing to play with."

"No problem, Queen Yani. We'll be ready," Okoye said.

Five minutes later the kids were tearing back down the path wearing colorful swim suits and arm floaties, all thoughts of leaving forgotten. Their bright excited expressions reminded Yani that life was for joy with her family. She turned to look at N'Jadaka, and he was already swinging over the bright green water fully clothed. He released the rope and dropped into the pond with a giant splash, acting like the biggest kid of them all.

Chapter 13 HERE.

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