#If I want to add something I might just make another little post

[dancingaliensfics]

Remmick NSFW Alphabet

This is pretty self explanatory. I haven't really formatted this or proof read it, I'll do that tomorrow. Right now I'm tired and need to sleep lol but I wanna get this posted since it just came to me. Wrote this in my notes app bc I couldn't be bothered opening docs, thats how quick this came to me lol so theres not even spell check really.

I do personally prefer sub remmick but I've tried to have a mix in here of both because I think it's more realistic to him as a character. I might add some more stuff it tomorrow idk.

Warnings: nsfw content, mentions of drinking blood, one section with gore mention that you can skip, idk i can't remember tbh

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He doesn't like to clean you up after sex. Not because he doesn't care but because he likes how you look all dirty and messy. So cleanup is out of the question unless you're willing to wait 30 minutes for him to have his fill, by which point he's usually ready to again lol. He does like to cuddle though, he's quite a physical guy and keeping contact with you is important to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He really likes your hands. I've made a post already about how he likes to have your fingers in his mouth and i stand by that. So i wont say too much about it again here.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's nasty guys. He like to cum on you. His favourite place is probably your stomach but he doesn't really care where as long as he can see it dripping down you. He cums a lot and because he's a vampire he can go again pretty quickly, probably after like 10 minutes, so by the end of the night you're covered. He also likes to spread it around with his fingers cause he's a weirdo.

He will absolutely eat his own cum. When he cums in your mouth make sure to kiss him afterwards because he loves it, it gets him hard so quick. Or you can just scoop it up with your fingers and push it into his mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ok I have two things for this. The first one isn't particularly scandalous but it is something I think he'd be embarrassed by. When he's alone and feeling himself he imagines you and him back in his home town from when he was alive, living a quiet life in his childhood home. He loves to imagine you in the dresses the pretty girls used to wear when he was young. Honestly he creates pretty vivid scenarios, bringing you flowers back after a day working on the farm, putting your children to bed after dinner, undressing you slowly, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders. Climbing into bed together and just making gentle love before falling asleep in each other's arms. He keeps this a secret because it goes against his whole philosophy that vampirism is a gift. You two can't have children, atleast not in that way, and he'll never be back in that little house on the farm.

Now for the actually dirty one. I'm not really sure how to explain this but I'm gonna try my best. Basically he likes being told to use parts of you. Like for example, being told he can only use your thighs or your hand to get off. There's something so degrading about it that just really gets him going. It's another one that he wouldn't be able to verbalise, but having to make himself cum while only being able to rut against the sole of your foot or the space between your thighs is humiliating in a hot way. He doesn't have specific body part fetishes, he's not into feet or anything specifically, it's just being told he can only touch that part of you i guess.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very but also not. He's had a lot of sex and he's very good at it, but he doesn't have much experience being vulnerable and having that Intimacy he would have with you if you're in an actual relationship. Remmick is also not very experienced with being cared for by someone and wanted in a way that goes beyond the physical. So yes, he can give you the best night you've ever had, but hold his hand and promise to stay with him forever and he's a bit stumped.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to look at your face so you'll often find yourself in some variation of missionary. Tbh I don't know all the fancy names and neither does remmick, he just wants to look at your eyes. He's quite fond of prone bone though and anything that let's him look up at you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely goes back and forth. I think simply through his nature or being a vampire, sex isn't always serious for him. He's very old and doesn't view sex in the same special way mortals might, especially in the 30s. But that doesn't mean it isn't special when he's with you. He always values your Intimacy together and often will be quite serious, especially if he's in a more melancholic mood. But he's a Goofy guy, he doesn't take things very seriously and he makes jokes in inappropriate situations that don't usually land. Obviously a lot of his silly guy persona was fake, but i think it's also clear from other interactions where he's trying to really connect with people that remmick is quite an odd guy and that does bleed through into sex. Sometimes he just does weird or random stuff. So yeah I think sex with remmick is a real mixed bag when it comes to seriousness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is not groomed at all. He is quite hairy and doesn't see a problem with that. He does trim every so often, but being from a time where shaving body hair just wasn't a thing, he doesn't often think about it. He has a lovely happy trail that leads right from his navel all the way down. He has thick dark curls down there that run wild. If it really bothered you, you could ask him to groom more but I don't think he would. He likes a hairy bush and doesn't get the modern fascination with hairless pussies and balls so he has no interest in it on himself. I just really isn't something he thinks about.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with remmick is always very intimate. Even when it isn't serious, the Intimacy is always there. There's a few reasons for this really. The first is that sex with remmick using involves one of you bleeding, and the exchange of blood is something he sees as very meaningful. It's not only his food source, the thing he survives on, but he also still has many old world believes about humours and the transfer of energy through blood. The second reason is that sex is one of the few times remmick will be vulnerable. You can really break down those walls and see another side of him, especially if you've been at it for a while. And the last is that if you're also a vampire, you and remmick have a mental link that connects all of your feelings, sensations and thoughts. There's really nothing more intimate than that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it a lot lol. Being in a relationship does nothing to slow him down. Whether you're away from each other, in another room or sat right in front of him, it doesn't matter, he loves to feel himself up. He actually is quite a voyeur and loves to Jack off while you watch, especially if you give him instructions on how to do it. He also loves to have your smell around him while feeling himself, whether it's by just straight up sniffing you or from something of yours he has with him. He always takes something of yours with him when he goes on trips away, usually underwear or a scarf since those have the strongest scent but he'll even take a handkerchief if you offer it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly, it's probably easier to list things he isn't into. But I'm gonna touch on one isn't haven't really seen or talked about before. Remmick is a masochist. He's also a sadist but there's plenty of fics about that. He loves being hurt. Honestly sometimes he goes too far with it, and he really needs a partner who cares about him enough to draw that line. He talks a big game but he has a lot of self hatred he refuses to acknowledge and pain is a good way for him to ignore that. So its good to put him in a control environment where you can make sure he doesn't go too far. Slap him, choke him, bite him, scratch him. He loves it all.

He also likes to be treated like a dog. I've mentioned this a few times on my blog now haha so hopefully I don't become that girl, but he is really into that. Make him crawl on his hands and knees, tell him to pick your hands, let him hump your leg, he loves it. He likes to lick your face a lot which can be a bit icky but indulge him. He like to be punished and rewarded, it's a good way to keep him in check. And he likes this dynamic outside of the bedroom as well. Send out on errands and call him a good boy when he does well. Give him head pats when hes good and smack him when he's bad. Ah I can't get carried away here.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere. I've already talked about this but he will fuck you on the side of the road or in the middle of a bar he doesn't give a shit. He likes for people to watch and he likes to be dirty. But there is something special to him about a private bed, it's somewhat nostalgic and makes his old man brain feel good or something I guess.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Again, anything and everything. This man is so horny, he is ready to go 24/7. But simple things like the wind blowing through your hair, watching you walk barefoot through a field or the smell of you as you walk past, are often the ones that do it the most him. Oh and watching you perform, if you're some kind of artist. That really drives him wild.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't thing he likes the thought of really degrading someone he's actually in love with much. Don't get me wrong, he can be a mean dom when he wants, but I don't think he would ever do something that would actually make you feel bad. His whole world revolves around his partner, they're his god in a weird, possessive way, and he wouldn't do something like brand you or insult your physical appearance. He would also never make you feel bad about your personality. While he might call you a slut or pathetic, things like insulting you for being needy he just wouldn't do. I think he also would be interested in others degrading you. So while he enjoys bringing others into your sex life, it's purely for them to service you. He'll never tolerate someone insulting you in anyway.

He also won't let any of the fresh vampires near you because he doesn't think it's a good idea. Even if you're also a vampire, they can be too rowdy and he doesn't like it so yeah there's a waiting time for anyone freshly turned.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

HES A MUNCH.

Cmon we all know that. This man loves eating pussy, day and night. If it was possible he would never stop. He loves the taste, the smell, the feeling of your legs squeezing his head. He just can't get enough. He eats like man starving, and he laps that shit up like a dog. He also moans so loud while eating you out. He honestly doesn't like 69 very much because he wants to focus on the task at hand lmao.

I also have to say, he loves sucking dick. He find it so relaxing, he could honestly fall asleep with a dick in his mouth. He loves to struggle on a big cock and he loves to take a small one fully into his mouth. The one thing I'm sad about is that I don't have a dick for this man to suck because it really is one of his favourite things.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ah it really depends. His mood changes quite quickly and that influences how he fucks. A session can start out one way and change up half way through. There's not much consistency with Remmick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Remmick loves a quickie. He'll ask for them all the time, at every opportunity. God forbid you have to be somewhere on time because he will stop you at some point to ask for a quick fuck. Most of the time he asks for a quickie though, it isn't so he can fuck you, it's so he can get a taste of your pussy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes yes yes. He will give almost anything a try atleast once, although most things he's already done. He's also a massive voyeur as I said before so he doesn't care about getting caught. I mean he shares a hive mind so it doesn't really matter to him anyway.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a vampire so his Stamina is very good but not impossibly so. He can if he wants to last a long time each round but remmick is not a patient man so he usually doesn't. You can tell him to hold out though and then he's happy to. But to him it doesn't matter because whether he's cum or not, your fussy is getting eaten. He can go for quite a lot of rounds honestly, probably 4 or 5 most days but stretching up to 7 if he pushes it. But he still needs time between and he doesn't like to over do things so most days it's gonna be more like 2 to 3.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

What toys did they have in the 1930s? I'm not sure i need to do some reading on that. But I think remmick quite likes involving toys both on himself and you, whatever they are. He especially likes bondage on you both although he keeps breaking all the pretty rope you get.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is the king of teasing. Good luck if he gets in one of these moods because there is no escape. It will start at dusk as soon you're up, with light touches and coy looks and continue right up until dawn when he finally let's you cum after hours of fucking you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Remmick is so loud jesus. If you have neighbours, they hate you. And if you're trying to stray hidden you'll have to gag him. Even then you can still hear his panting and muffled moans. He also talks none stop during sex, I mean really runs him mouth. The man does not know how to shut up.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Big gore warning here, i personally feel a bit sick reading stuff like this even though I wrote it so just warning you guys first.

He wants you to bite him. Ok yeah that's obvious. But not just a few times, he wants you to cover him all over in deep, bloody bites. He wants it to hurt. He wants people to look at him and think he's been attacked by some wild animal. Honestly he wants you to eat him. To tear chunks off and swallow them. To crack his bones and tear parts off him. Break open his ribs and pull out his heart and rip pieces out with your teeth. He finds the idea of being consumed deeply erotic and also very intimate. It makes him feel very safe, knowing pieces of him are inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nice and thick. Probably a solid 6 to 6.5 inches with a good girth. He stretches you out just right. Uncut and a red tip. Heavy balls that hang low.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

All day everyday, ask and you shall receive. He really is hungry as a dog lol.

You know he's ready for it when he starts drooling. The drool really isn't something he can control, it just happens when his body decides its time to eat which often gets mixed up with being horny. So yeah, it's pretty common for you to look over and see him covered in drool, mouth open and shameless.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall  asleep)

Depends. Some days he's straight to sleep while others he gets kinda sad and wistful after sex and stays awake watching you. He also gets kinda stressed you're gonna disappear or leave if he closes his eyes sometimes so you might occasionally find him staring at you for a long time. But your presence is very comforting for him and he always sleeps better with you.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ʏᴇᴛ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

friends to lovers, office romance, halloween, light angst, fluff, miscommunication, slow burn, humour, mutual pining

word count - 1k

The first thing Dotty hears on Halloween morning, aside from her coworker’s bluetooth speaker blasting Monster Mash in the hallway, is her boss saying the word “fire.”

She’s in his office with a notepad in hand, doing her best to write down the instructions he’s giving her about the costume contest (“put Dana in charge, she’s got glitter”) when he lowers his voice and mumbles into his phone:

“Yeah, I know. Someone’s gotta go. I just don’t understand why you’ve given me such a short deadline with this.”

Dotty blinks. The pen in her hand freezes. Her boss notices her silence, waves a hand, and mouths something like not you. But that doesn't settle the knot forming behind her ribs.

She’s still thinking about it twenty minutes later when she finds Matt sitting at his desk, peeling the wrapper off a mini twix bar and already wearing his costume, a wrinkled white shirt, a crooked tie, and a name tag that says Manager in Comic Sans.

“Are you… supposed to be the boss?” she asks, folding her arms.

Matt gives her a guilty smile. “Too much?”

Dotty shrugs, trying not to smile. “He’ll probably love it.”

He cocks his head. “You okay?”

And that’s when she blurts, “Someone’s getting fired.”

Matt’s face stills. “Wait, what?”

She sits down on the edge of his desk, notebook tucked against her chest. “I heard him on the phone. He said someone’s gotta go. I think it’s real.”

Matt leans back in his chair, wheels creaking. “It’s gotta be someone from accounting.”

Dotty winces. “Don’t say that.”

“Come on,” Matt argues, opening another piece of candy. “Should be Wyatt. He definitely has a secret YouTube channel for reviews of office chairs. And he knows what the difference between a number one and two pencil is.”

“He's… enthusiastic.”

“He's terrifying,” Matt corrects.“We should post his resume online. Just in case. Help him get a head start.”

Dotty stares. “That is wildly unethical.”

Matt grins. “So is using the work printer to print Taylor Swift trivia for your lunch breaks.”

“…Fine,” she says, laughing now. “But only because he definitely listed ‘karate’ as a soft skill.”

By noon, Operation Resume is in full swing.

They find a Word doc titled Wyatt_FINAL_REAL_ONE.docx in the shared drive and give it a little polish. Dotty adds buzzwords like synergistic and innovative mindset. Matt lists Wyatt’s hometown as “the cloud.”

Then Matt takes it one step further.

“Someone actually wants to do a phone interview,” he tells her, mid-afternoon, holding his desk phone like it might explode. “Should I… be him?”

“No,” Dotty says, trying to hide the smile in her voice. “Definitely not.”

He does it anyway.

She watches him lower his voice two octaves and say things like “I pride myself on punctuality and moral excellence.” He ends the call by solemnly stating, “I’ll speak to my superiors and get back to you.”

“You are going to hell,” she says, giggling into her sleeve.

It’s late when things go wrong.

Dotty’s helping clean up pumpkin guts in the breakroom, Matt leaning against the counter beside her with a soda can and his tie crooked.

He looks too handsome for his own good.

“Hey,” he says. “So… about that job offer.”

Dotty glances over.

“It was kinda real,” he says, trying to sound casual. “Like, it’s a startup. It pays better than here, but they said they want someone ‘creative’. I dunno.”

Dotty bites the inside of her cheek.

She doesn’t want him to leave. But she’s not allowed to say that. Not when she’s just the receptionist. Not when they’re just friends. Colleagues.

So she makes herself smile.

“You should take it.”

Matt goes quiet.

Dotty keeps talking, hoping it doesn’t sound nervous or like begging. “You’re… like, you’re smart. And funny. You get stuff done without being weird about it. You care about people, even if you act like you don’t. You don’t belong here forever.”

Matt nods. Too quickly. His mouth pulls into a flat line.

“Oh,” he says. “Right. Yeah. No, you’re right.”

He won’t look at her.

Dotty blinks. Something’s wrong.

“Just, you deserve it. Don’t undersell yourself.”

But Matt’s already brushing her off, his voice light and unreadable. “Right, well… I’ve gotta, um, go help with the cleanup. Wyatt’s skeleton lost a leg.”

And he walks away.

Dotty’s left standing in front of the fridge, hands sticky with pumpkin seeds, heart quietly breaking in her chest.

Just as it nears 4:30pm , Wyatt sends an all-office email:

Subject: WHO POSTED MY RESUME Hello. I received a job offer from a company I did not apply to. I have informed legal. I am no mutineer. Best, Wyatt Future CEO

Dotty reads the email twice before snorting into her coffee.

She finds Matt in the breakroom twenty minutes later, loading the dishwasher. He doesn’t say anything when she walks in. He just nods. She’s not used to that with Matt.

Dotty leans against the counter beside him.

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to go,” she says softly.

Matt stills.

“I meant it like… I believe in you. That’s all.”

He finally looks at her.

“I thought you meant you wouldn’t care if I left,” he says, voice quieter than she’s ever heard it.

Dotty swallows.

“Well, I would. I’d care a lot.”

A warm, slightly uncomfortable silence settles between them.

Then Matt smiles. Crooked and shy, a little lopsided.

“I’d miss you,” he says. “More than I’d miss the broken coffee machine and the boss’s 11 a.m. inspirational speeches in the conference room.”

Dotty bumps his arm with hers.

“I’d miss you too,” she says. “Even if you never refill the paper in the printer.”

They catch each other’s eyes for a moment, both genuinely happy.

“Guess I’m staying,” Matt says, grinning.

Dotty rolls her eyes. “For now.”

That night, as everyone leaves and the last pumpkin gets tossed in the bin, Matt walks her to her car.

She’s still wearing bits from her costume, and he’s got candy stuffed in his pockets from the communal bucket.

Before she unlocks the door, he says:

“If I ever do leave… I’ll, uh, make sure you know first.”

Dotty smiles, a little sad at the mention of him actually leaving.

“Good,” she says. “I’d want to say goodbye.”

He nods, soft and sincere, then turns to go. But not before he glances back with, “See you tomorrow, Dotty.”

“See you.”

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws ꨄ

a/n: sbsbfsdjbf trying to get more worldbuiding into this au, so i hope you enjoyed !! also ik it isn't halloween but this is the episode we're up to in the show and it's autumn where i live so :p

[palskippah]

Oooh mareach preg ftw!

Ngl Im kind of curious, how did mario and peach handle the birth? 😳

Hi! Yess 😭 Them expecting babies is so cute to me ;-;

They (mostly Mario) handled the labor and birth like champs, although at the beginning both had the downside of panicking, but later on they had the help of people with more experience than them (Luigi or the doctors) or that were less panicky during the situation (like Toad). Mario was scared shitless bc giving birth is intimidating, but once he's with Peach and Luigi he's much calmer.

Btw I don't think I'll set this on stone, bc there's other ways the labor and birth could've gone that I also had thought of and actually written or drawn askdlsa but I'm sharing this one bc I like it c: Like, Toad's singing (like that person at tiktok that dresses up as him and sings shakira's songs?? them) makes him laugh too hard and that makes him break his water and he's like 🧍 bc he doesn't realize at first and all-

Under the cut there's a much more (I mean it 😔) detailed description of how it went! It's pretty long (mostly the labor part) and you'll scroll a lot sorrie, I thought of shortening it, but then left it like it is- the moments are separated by star emojis, so if you wanna skip to the birth, go ahead jiji

Birth isn't explicit but I'll give you a warning about it anyway! Also, it's kinda cartoonish (I think? maybe not) for the fun of it, I'm not a big fan of serious stuff sdlksdks

BTW! here's the bebis :'v

[Nettarina was born like half an hour before Mariella was, so she had more experience with being out in the harsh, cold world out of the womb- so she was peacefully sleeping while her twin was being delivered akjsdkd

Imagine those scenes in TV where there's in the first plane a very peaceful thing going on and at the background there's a ruckus- something like that but with Nettarina wrapped in her warm blanket and sleeping comfortably in her bassinet, and in the background there's Mario grabbing the hell out of Peach's and Luigi's hands while he pushes and grunting in effort and the other two are encouraging him and stuff, she doesn't wake up at all despite the noise.]

Also, there are some drawings that are kinda vague about birth- and also the newborn baby will not look like an actual just newborn baby bc that's too much 🧍

Anyways, enjoy the thingie if you read it!

🌟So! The whole thing is very fast and tiring- like when Mario wakes up, he doesn't even hope he'll go into labor that day, and before the sun even sets, he already had both babies in his arms.

Also, I read that first-time pregnancies are a tiny bit more likely to go past full-term and I was like sure why not, let's put Mario in situations. So, he's overdue by just a few days and honestly the babies are really taking their time with getting there, and that's why he isn't even worried that particular day that he'll go into labor.

Also, the doctor had said they'd have to consider induction if the babies didn't make act of presence in the next week. Bc twins usually are expected to arrive like at the 38th week, where they are already full-term, and over that is considered overdue- so maybe Mario is like 38 weeks-and-something pregnant in this day where he has the babies.

🌟 About the labor-

For when Mario goes into labor, I'm torn between doing it sitcom-like, where Peach for ABC reason is very far away from Mario, and she has to go through frustrating drawbacks to get to him quickly, or go with that it happens when they're together and all comfortable and stuff sdkjskd

But going with the first option, imagine Peach is at a meeting that she definitely didn't want to go to, where the king was adamant about her presence and of other royals to see the matter (which in Peach's opinion, could've been handled via email!), so she couldn't send in Toadsworth to sort it through.

Peach warned the host king that Mario could go into labor at literally any minute, and she wished to stay with him when it happened (Mario was supposed to go into labor a few days ago, she was really anxious about it!), but the other thought she was being overdramatic, surely Super Mario would be fine without the princess for a few hours.

Many royals think that way initially, whenever Peach requested that meetings be held at her castle, or that may Toadsworth go in her behalf, since she doesn't want to leave Mario's side for too long. But, they wholly understand when they see Mario, who definitely looks like he's ready to pop. Others are more understanding, because they have been the pregnant person being fretted over, or the partner that frets, so they indulge the princess on her requests.

And well, she was overly worried the whole meeting, and barely paid any attention. At the beginning Peach texted Mario every few minutes to make sure he was okay and calm her anxiety, but after one too many judging looks from the host king, she apologized and asked one of the servants to take her phone until the meeting was over, knowing she'd keep using it otherwise- she had duties to attend as a princess, despite her worries as a soon-to-be mom.

Meanwhile, back at the Mushroom Kingdom, Mario had woken up not long ago, stretching as much as he could and groaning because he slept like hell. His back hurt a lot, like was usual lately. He briefly wondered when the babies would dignify themselves to show up, so he could have a proper night's sleep finally (as if! with two newborn babies it wouldn't be very likely), because they overstayed long enough, he was supposed to have them in his arms by now, while also he wished Peach was there to just magic his pain away.

Mario resigns himself to hurt and keep being pregnant for a few days more. He throws a look at his side, and then checks his phone, smiling at Peach's (fretting) texts, so he starts answering to each of them, while getting himself more comfortable on their bed.

[Good morning my love! 😚😚😚] Good morning bella mia :33 [Are you awake? 🥰🥰] I am [Maybe not, it took you a lot of time to fall asleep 🤕 just wait until the little rascals are born, I'll give them a harsh lecture right away] Me too bc my back hurts like a beach I wish you were here to make it better :c [I love you] I love you very much too! [Te amo mi amorchito pechocho💓] Ti amo la mia luce 💖 [Mi amore] ��� [Wake up mi amore] I did :D pick your phone peachy [King Calami keeps talking about I don't know what hepl] Pay attention and don't pick your phone peachy [Mario 🥺🥺] Peachy <3

Peach appears offline from not long ago; and Mario hoped she actually had put her focus on the meeting. After that, Mario does the extenuating routine of getting off of bed, showering, grooming, dressing on his own -which proves much harder than when Peach just does it for him, especially with the overalls and shoes, but he's in the mood for them, so he tries anyway (and almost falls off the bed trying to reach his feet- but at least no one's there to see him struggle). He does all this while feeling a bit restless the whole way, but it's been a few days of the same feeling, since the babies weren't born when they were supposed to.

Mario has a very late breakfast and then spends a while just nibbling on treats and lazing around (Resting! You're resting - says for the nth time a voice that sounds like Peach's). He made some plans with Toad over text, and soon he met Mario at the lounging room in the castle, ready for a walk around Toad Town.

Mario wasn't very sure if he still wanted to go, still feeling like something (read: labor) was about to happen. Toad offered staying at the castle, if he wasn't sure, and they could eat ice-cream right there too and maybe watch a movie, or just walk through Peach's gardens. The thought of the ice-cream stall at the middle of Toad Plaza makes him salivate and reconsider- oh his damned cravings. Also, to walk and enjoy the sun and bustling streets would do him good, so they go.

The walk to Toad Town is very slow but filled with conversation (mostly from Toad). At certain times Mario felt cramps on his belly, but he has been feeling them from weeks ago, so he doesn't get too worried about them. At the platforms Toad very carefully helps him. And while they walk down the steps, Mario looks at the pipes systems and all the toads going through them, which was a much quicker way of getting anywhere. Not for the first time Mario lamented that traveling through pipes was not safe for him anymore, and it made him too dizzy anyways (and in some of them he didn't even fit any longer- but whatevs).

Through the walk many toads greet both of them as usual, some commenting lightly about the babies not being there yet, which had Mario chuckling politely (bc, of course they're not there yet, Mario is clearly still huge!) and by the time they get to the ice-cream stand Mario's too tired and feeling kinda out of breath, so Toad tells him to sit and wait for him to get the ice-cream, and Mario does so gratefully.

When he's at the bench, the cramps only get worse, and he briefly wonders if maybe they're contractions- He hopes they are, because the babies are overdue and he is tired as hell of carrying them, but also- he wishes it's not the case, he doesn't want them to come out yet because he is still way too nervous of giving birth. Either way, the cramps hurt and are uncomfortable, and after a while they stop, and he realizes he'd have to pay closer attention to them, lest he actually was in labor.

Toad gets back with their stuff and they eat and talk and it's very nice, because the day is sunny and calm, and the babies aren't as energetic as other times (which is always good, because they would beat up Mario's ribs, bladder and whatever was in their way whenever they kicked or stretched).

Suddenly Mario feels a particularly bad cramp, and he has to take a moment to breathe through it, wincing in pain and placing his hand where he's kinda feeling it. It catches Toad's attention, and he gently pats Mario's arm to be of comfort.

Toad then gasps excitedly, "Wait- are you having contractions yet?"

Mario shakes his head, then signs, "I don't think so."

"Aw... I want to meet your babies already, Mario," Toad laments, taking a sad lick from his ice-cream cone. "I want to receive my Uncle Toad title from you too."

Mario smiles at him and shakes his head again, in amusement, the toad had said years back that he was happy to receive the title from Luigi, and now from Mario, as if they were some sort of university of unclehood by simply becoming parents.

At some moment, their conversation takes a turn towards Mario's relationship with Pauline, for some reason. Toad can't believe Mario had sung with the Pauline! And why is he just now finding out about it?!

It leads to Toad begging Mario to sing something for him someday, and Mario saying he can beg all he wants. Toad shakes his head in feigned disappointment and says, "I would never deprive you from my singing skills, Mario!" And Mario does a 'really? prove it' face, so Toad graces him with the most off-key, shrillest and loud cover of Pauline's Jump Up, Super Star!

It had Mario laughing almost hysterically- it probably wasn't even that funny, but he was caught off-guard bc Toad started off strong with the main vocals and from then on, his singing didn't get any better. He was holding his belly while trying not to drop his ice-cream and waving slightly at Toad with it to stop- or he's sure he'll... oh- have an accident.

Mario stops laughing all of a sudden and looks down with a grimace. For a few seconds he thinks not again! because he has two heavy babies resting right over his bladder, he can't help it sometimes! But this time it's much more than usual, and he can't even stop it.

He turns to Toad in panic and embarrassment, because he's sitting in the middle of the crowded plaza and there's no way other toads won't notice! Toad notices his exalted state and stops singing. He tilts his head in confusion and worry.

Mario signs "I peed myself."

"Oh- that's huh..." Mario looks more embarrassed. "That's okay! Don't worry, bestie, I'm going to fix it. You just stay here, Mario!"

Toad shoves the rest of his ice-cream in his mouth and while he munches the waffle cone, he jumps out of the bench and scoots somewhere in the crowded place. Mario huffs in discomfort, throwing nervous glances around him, hoping no one suddenly decided to speak to him. He looks at his cone still in his hand, melting down. He gives it some licks, entirely out of anxiety, because he doesn't have much appetite anymore.

Toad returns soon enough, carrying a folded blanket with himself. Very subtle, especially with the nice weather and Mario in his long overalls. The man kicks himself mentally for being picky about Toad's ideas, when his friend is clearly trying. Toad jumps on the bench and gets closer to whisper to Mario, "I asked some friends to bring you clothes. Don't worry though, I told them to be discreet about it- also got this blanket so we can walk to a bathroom."

Toad sits back down beside Mario on the bench, to wait for the other toads. Mario decides to occupy that brief time by finishing eating his ice-cream, and rubbing his belly while silently scowling at the babies for putting him in situations. When the toads arrive, carrying a little bag, they discreetly leave it on the bench, and walk casually in the other direction, not even looking at Mario or Toad. Mario lets out a relieved sigh, glad that they left them alone. Toad stands on his seat and extends the blanket, leaving it ready to use over the bench, and then jumps back to the floor.

"Let me help you up," he says, extending his little hands to him with a big smile. Mario smiles a bit funnily, knowing that Toad wasn't precisely strong enough to pull him up.

After much effort from both, Mario is on his feet, and he has to suppress a disgusted shiver, because the wetness is very uncomfortable and has gone cold. Toad notices his discomfort and hurries to hand the blanket to Mario, who wraps it around his shoulders. The toad makes sure it covers all the damp spots, and then they get to it, looking for the nearest bathroom either of them can think of.

Toad peaks his head in a restaurant, and quietly asks the receptionist to use the bathroom without being clients, who refuses, being strict about their rules, but Toad says with a knowing smile, 'it's for Mario' and the other toad quickly agrees for them to just come along, anything for the Mushroom Kingdom hero! (But Mario's sure it's because he's very pregnant, it's obvious).

When Mario's inside and Toad's doing guard outside the door, he strips from his wet clothes and rummages through the little bag, pulling out one of his red maternity dresses and underwear. He smiles to himself in relief as he thinks 'perfetto...' because having to ask for help from Toad to put on his overalls would probably be the last drop in the glass for Mario to- to have a breakdown or something.

When he's almost done and letting the dress down his arms, he feels such a strong cramp in his belly that he's just sure it must be a contraction. Mario panics for a few seconds because his arms are stuck in the dress and he's in pain and all he sees is red! He has to double over and support his weight with his hands against the wall the best he can, while he tries to quiet down his pained groans and tightly closes his eyes.

When it passes, he gives himself a bit of time to catch his breath back, and then quickly lowers the dress the rest of the way, to dress himself properly. Mario then holds his belly, looking around the bathroom nervously. He slowly paces on the small space in building panic- he's sure it was a contraction! It was way too strong- and- and the accident? What if that was his water?

He stops waddling and looks down at his belly, placing his hands on it as if silently asking the babies if that was the very important liquid that signaled that he was indeed in labor. Mario notices that he's breathing way too quickly, so he tries to do the breathing exercises that Doctor Toadlina taught him to do- he clenches his fists tightly over his belly while the babies move leisurely as if their mamma wasn't freaking out.

Outside, Toad hums to himself patiently, giving Mario all the time he needs to get comfortable in the changing of clothes. He nods to passing waiters and clients alike, with a big smile.

Back inside, finally Mario's calm enough to think of what he should do now if the babies are coming- he immediately thinks of Peach and that she's far away and literally on another whole kingdom, with no pipe system attached to theirs! Mario scrambles as fast as he can for his phone, feeling his hands and his lower lip trembling in fright.

He calls her and places the phone by his ear, while trying still to breath calmly and failing spectacularly. His fear only spikes up when it sends to voicemail. Mario calls a couple more of times, each without success. He tries to write to her instead, being a bit difficult with his shaking fingers and his blurring gaze due to the tears.

Pech I don't wanna scare you but i think I'm in laborr Pelsa answer Nd come back soon I'm very scared

He holds his phone in his hands for a while, still trying to convince himself that everything will be okay... Mario frowns and looks to the side for a second, those words remind him of something.

Everything will be okay...? Right, Luigi! Mario should call Luigi. He calls him this time and smiles in relief when his twin answers right away.

"Ciao, fratellone!" Luigi says happily.

Mario's smile drops when he realizes just then that he must talk if he called- Oh, fuck! What an idiot! He's bringing more despair for himself on his own!

He opens his mouth and then closes it and shakes his head- why does he never think things through?! He curses himself, now with tears of frustration in his eyes and the thought of just hanging up and texting instead goes through his mind.

"Bro? Mario? Is everyth-" Mario quickly hangs up and goes to text him. He blinks his tears away the best he can and writes down while his phone rings and the notification of Weegee calling... appears just above the chat.

M in labor nd pach isn't here Can you come ?

A few seconds pass when Luigi answers:

On my way Where are you going to be?

Mario sniffles and thinks quickly, should they go to the castle, or maybe just wait for Luigi to get to the restaurant? Mario didn't want to be in that bathroom all alone, he felt too scared and defenseless. But he doesn't think he had the energy to go to the castle quick enough either.

Gret toadcimu restornat Oki I'll be right there bro Pls be calm Everything will be okay I promise Are you with someone? Let them help you Mario To stay cal M Ok

Mario opened Toad's chat this time, feeling at least a tad bit calmer now that he knew his brother was on the way.

Tod Come in pls

A short moment later, a knock sounds at the door, and Mario unlocks it and let his friend in, Toad closes the door and looks at Mario in thinly veiled worry when he notices his tears and panicked expression.

"What's wrong, Mario?"

"I'm in labor," he has difficulty even signing, his hands trembling too much. Toad seems to have difficulty to understand what he signed too, but when he does, he opens his eyes widely and seems absolutely ready to start panicking. Mario braces himself for his shrilly screaming, but the toad shakes his head quickly and sets his face on a determined expression, that Mario would not be surprised if he started speaking in a very deep voice.

"We have to go to the castle, then! I'll tidy this up, you- you just focus on not having the babies yet and calm down. Calm down, Mario!" he says in his regular voice, with a very subtle hint of panic that Mario can easily ignore for his own sake. The toad starts gathering his wet clothes in the little bag, then hurries on folding the blanket while Mario focuses on doing the breath exercises.

Another contraction hits in and Mario has to lean against the wall again, groaning in pain and holding his back. He feels like it lasts even longer and hurts worse than the previous- how is that possible? They were supposed to grow very gradually in intensity and time!

He feels a hand on his back, and he turns to look at Toad, with a pained expression on.

"Do I call the princess?" His friend knows Peach isn't in the Mushroom Kingdom, but Mario shakes his head. She didn't answer him, it'd probably be the same for Toad.

Mario breathes through the contraction the best he can, and when it's over he tells Toad that Luigi's on his way. The toad nods and leads them slowly to the outside of the restaurant, going through the tables occupied by many toads since it was lunch time, saying his thanks to the receptionist (and Mario awkwardly nods at them in thanks too).

Toad looks around quickly, looking for a bench for Mario to sit on, when he spots one, he leads them in its direction.

Just as Toad is helping Mario to take a seat, they hear, "Bro!" and Mario straightens up right away, looking around for his twin, almost losing his balance, and he and Toad and Luigi all panic that he'll fall, but Mario manages to keep standing as he grabs onto Toad's cap and the other hand supports his back, while Luigi runs to his side.

When Mario and Luigi are close to each other, the first thing Mario does is hug his twin, feeling like he wants to cry. And he does, actually, while Luigi gently shushes him and holds him tightly (albeit a bit awkwardly due to Mario's belly in the middle).

"It's-a okay, Mario, I'm here," Luigi says, subtly trying to catch his breath, he surely must have run all the way from the pipe that connected their kingdoms to the Great Toadchimu restaurant. Mario nods and buries his face on Luigi's shoulder, feeling much less scared than he did moments ago. The only thing to truly make him feel complete would be that Peach was there with him too.

Luigi takes care of the situation and instructs Toad to please get him a super mushroom so he could easily carry Mario to the castle. Once he eats it, he goes up the hills on a careful walk to not accidentally drop Mario or jostle him too much, while Toad hurriedly walks beside them, carrying Mario's stuff and calling Peach's father to let the doctor know they were on their way (and so were the babies-).

Back at Peach, the blessed (cursed) meeting that seemed like it lasted hours just ended, and the (damned) King Calami finally let them leave, but of course, he invited all the royals to have lunch first. But Peach is absolutely ready to tail it out of there and return to her own kingdom and to her Mario.

After exchanging quick pleasantries with the rest of royals, and passive-agressive words with King Calami that left no space to argue her reasons and determination to leave, the king kindly instructed a worker to prepare a vehicle for Princess Toadstool, as she's in such a hurry to leave already, and isn't even able to stay for lunch. The servant bows and leaves to do as instructed.

Peach smiles while inside she wishes unpleasant things for the king. She bows her head and walks calmly out of the meeting room, but one of the servants standing at the doors stopped her, "Princess Toadstool, your phone, your highness."

Right! Peach smiles thankfully as she receives it and immediately checks her notifications while walking out of the room. Her smile drops when she sees the three missed calls from Mario. With worry she clicks on the notification that says [New messages from Marito❤️] and her smile comes back in full force again while reading Mario's responses to each of her texts. And finally, her smile fully drops as does her stomach, all the way to her feet, when she reads the five last messages.

Mario's in labor?! Peach anxiously hurries to walk in a direction, then halts and turns around and prepares to walk the other way, then realizes she doesn't even know where she is supposedly going, and she's just panicking. Peach looks at her phone and quickly calls Mario's number, while trying to calm her breathing as she places a hand on her chest. There's no use on her losing her mind, she needs to stay calm.

Peach gets more anxious with each ring, until the line picks up and she jumps into talking.

"Mario, are you okay? Where-?"

"Princess, it's-a me!" She gets interrupted. It's Luigi.

"Luigi! Where is Mario?!" So much for keeping calm, she mentally scolded herself.

"He's-a with me, don't worry, we're-a going to the castle, oki? We'll wait for you there, Toad talked to Toadsworth, so he can notify the royal doctor."

"Hi! Princess, it's me, Toad, Mario's best friend- he's good and he's not talking now!"

Peach lets out a mildly relieved sigh, at least they had the situation under control.

"I hope you are okay, Mario," she says, lacing her words with the most fondness she can, while she smiles. "Please wait for me, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Luigi chuckles after a while, "He says he will, and he loves you, and you're his very beloved light- Hey! Don't-a hit me, I'm-a just adding-!"

Peach giggles to herself, imagining Mario swatting Luigi.

"I love you so much too, mi chaparrito bigotón pechocho," she says, allowing herself to be utterly corny, at least Luigi wouldn't get it.

"Aw please, Peach, that's so cheesy!" said Luigi while laughing and Peach's face burned. Right, he knows some Spanish, Daisy is teaching him only the things that are convenient for him to learn- like Peach's terms of endearment. When she hears Mario's own chuckles, she's glad she said what she said, despite her embarrassment. She smiles brightly, "I'll be there very soon, Mario! Stay strong, I love you!"

"Wait, when you're-a on your way here try ta do a videocall," says Luigi before she can hang up.

"Okie-dokie! Bye!"

Peach allows herself to jump in place for a few seconds, while holding her phone to her chest, closing tightly her eyes and smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt. Mario's in labor! They'll finally meet their babies! How exciting! She must get there as soon as possible.

As if on cue, the servant that King Calami talked to was walking to get closer to her. Peach walked to reach them quicker, expecting for them to tell her that her vehicle was ready.

"Your highness, I'm very sorry-" Oh great. "-but we have a few complications with the long-journey vehicles. But if you're willing to wait, by late afternoon-"

Peach shakes her head worriedly; Mario needed her now! Not by late afternoon- and she'd get to the Mushroom Kingdom by night if that were the case!

The servant patiently waits for the princess to arrange her thoughts, as she seems lost on her own mind.

What could she do? What to do... There wasn't a pipe system between this kingdom and hers, so she couldn't go quickly there, and the journey on any vehicle was longer than two hours, but there were closer, neighboring kingdoms to this one, that had agreed to install the pipes! She could go to them first, and then go to her wished destiny!

Peach is struck with a feeling-like-an-idiot urge to facepalm, because that's literally the way she got into King Calami's kingdom to begin with. She sighs, lamenting that her first-time parent panic is affecting her good reasoning.

"Are there available any vehicles for shorter journeys?" she asks with a falsely calmed smile.

The servant nods, "Yes, your royal highness. The smallest allow for a very fast travelling- but they fit only one member inside, you'd have to leave on your own."

Peach quickly nods, "Yes, I will- It's perfect. I'll, um- arrange for my toads to return the vehicle safely once I no longer use it, yes?" she says, trying to be convincing.

The servant nods and leads Peach to the room where the vehicles are (a royal garage i guess?), while mentioning how they will not notify the who was in charge (whoever that is-) first, if all because the princess looked so antsy that it was making the servant a bit nervous too.

Peach apologized for her clearly anxious state, delightedly (and unsubtly terrified) saying that Mario's in labor and she's in a hurry to leave. The servant looks back at her in surprise, because why didn't she say so before?!

After that, things go very quickly, both the servant and Peach hurry to get to the vehicle, where Peach puts her few belongings in and hops in, ready to drive as quickly (and safely-) as she can to the nearest kingdom with a working pipe system to the Mushroom Kingdom.

As she puts on her seatbelt, the servant, whose name Peach still doesn't know, bows respectfully, "I wish you luck and very healthy babies, your royal highness!" Peach smiles and nods hurriedly saying 'thank you so much!', and she starts her journey towards Mario.

Back with Mario, they are received by Toadsworth already fretting over the whole situation, while Luigi takes him to his bedroom, where Doctor Toadlina and two young toad nurses are already setting everything to attend his birth.

Luigi leaves Mario gingerly on the bed, in a sitting position. On the way up the hills Luigi asked Toad to take the time between each of Mario's contractions. They were way too close to each other if Mario supposedly started labor not long ago, Luigi is sure it must have been much earlier.

The doctor informs what will be done from then on, to pass labor and check his contractions and to check his dilation depending on how the labor progresses and the babies' position and all that (vague labor stuff, y'know 🧍).

Luigi (after asking one of the nurses to pinch him hard to wear off the super mushroom effect-) gently helps Mario into a more comfortable sleepshirt and underwear, while he makes some light conversation to distract him from his worry at Peach's absence. Toad isn't let in, and he asks to at least be updated if anything important happens, like the babies being born or Mario needing something. Doctor Toadlina politely closes the door on his face with a, "Thank you, Toad, we'll let you know!" while the nurses lightly giggle as they arrange water bottles, and very light snacks in their little coffee table, and arrange Mario and Peach's bed for more practical use, tying the bed drapes as tightly as possible to avoid them becoming a burden for any of them.

Mario breathes slowly and tries to keep himself as calm as he can, while closing his eyes as Luigi helps him to lay on the bed for a check up, Doctor Toadlina puts on a glove meanwhile. He feels Luigi's own gloved hand caressing his hair.

"It's-a okay, bro," he says softly, and Mario turns to look at him with a small smile, that turns wobbly after a second. He just wishes Peach was there too.

After the check-up, the doctor muses that he must be very far along in labor, because his dilation is very advanced. She announces that in no time he would be ready for the pushing stage. Mario nods with a very nervous smile, glad and also terrified to hear so.

So, Mario and Luigi do anything for him to dilate further, like walking around the spacey room, or doing different exercises together (the ones Luigi remembers from when he was in labor, and also the ones the toad doctor recommends them).

They are face to face a bit far away from the bed, both with their feet a bit apart and hands on their hips, both moving them in a swaying motion- Mario thinks his twin is doing much better than he is, and briefly wonders if he's doing it wrong himself, but then remembers that Luigi's not even pregnant, and Mario smacks himself mentally for being an idiot again, always realizing things too late. He shakes his head, he's not even sure anymore if it's the pregnancy brain or he's always been like this.

Luigi frowns, "No? But I thought you already settled on tha names-"

Mario blushes a bit, now realizing he and Luigi were supposedly talking. He shakes his head again with a bashful smile, letting Luigi know to just ignore him. His brother smiles comprehensively. "You're-a not even paying attention- Is your mind on tha princess? She hasn't called yet..."

Mario frowns and settles his gaze on the nurses quietly talking among themselves, a bit sad about the matter. He supposes she's still busy getting to their kingdom if she can't call, but still...

Back at Peach, she just exited the outskirts of King Calami's kingdom, now entering the long, deserted road that connected both realms. Now that the risk of running over someone were diminished almost to zero, she pulls out her phone, finally she can videocall Mario! She thumbs around on it, throwing brief glances at the road, and then back. As the phone dials she keeps it in her hand, not about to risk it flying away from the speed she was driving at.

The other end picks up and her big smile falls a bit when it's Toad's face that receives her, she muses that Mario must be a bit busy, then!

"Hello, Toad!"

"Hi, Princess Peach!"

"Where's Mario?"

"Oh, he's inside with the doctors and Luigi, he left his phone with me- when they kicked me out. I'll hand it to him, don't hang!"

The brothers end up going to the balcony for Mario to take some air after he realizes he's again way too nervous (so close to giving birth and Peach's nowhere to be seen!), while Luigi pats his back, and he leans on the railing. Mario looks up to the sky, the day is so nice and sunny, and it feels ironic with the way he feels- all heated up and tired already.

He gets another contraction and his hands clench on the railing while he whimpers and winces. Oh, Peach should get there sooner, she could help him to not feel pain! He tries to breathe through it as he's been doing it since they started, while Luigi rubs his lower back. It almost feels like the same rubs Peach usually did to ease his pain with her magic, only that Luigi's just brought him emotional comfort and nothing more.

They hear some commotion at the door that leads to the hall and both twins turn to look and see (nosey 🤨) what's going on. It's Doctor Toadlina scolding Toad-

"I told you already! You can't come in, Toad, only the queen and the princess can, Mario needs people that can bring him comfort and support-!"

"Yeah, I know, that's why I need to give him his phone, it's the princess!"

Mario gasps, Peachy is calling?!

He turns to Luigi and signals with his head for him to go deal with it. Luigi nods and leaves his side briefly (not before throwing a dirty look at Mario for ordering him around-) to go to the toads and see the situation. Mario doesn't have to wait long for Luigi to come back, talking to his phone with it in front of his face. Mario's heartbeat gets quicker at the idea of finally seeing Peach. When he sees her, he smiles brightly at Peach's face, being hit with a lot of wind and making her hair fly behind her.

"Hi, Mario!"

From then on, Peach and Mario talked as if she were right there with him, while Luigi did as an interpreter - given that the princess couldn't look too long at her phone while she was driving -, and Mario felt much better about the matter, now only longing that she was physically close to him.

He keeps doing exercises and staying hydrated and complaining from the contractions - at which Peach reassures she's going to calm all his pain away once she got there! -, while the doctor checked every now and then the position of the babies and stuff.

At a certain moment the connection halts because Peach had to go through the pipe system- and after that Mario had to resist the urge to laugh at her, because Peach was clearly running as fast as she could while still trying to keep her face on the camera. Mario also felt the excitement that she was very close to getting there. The background behind her changed fast from the outside of the castle to the main floor, and then to the hall where their quarters were, and finally she all but bolted inside the room, making Doctor Toadlina jump in fright and the nurses squeal in surprise.

"Mario!" she says, phone held in her hand. "Where- where are you?" She looks at the room, at the exalted toads, and then at her phone, looking at Mario's happy face.

"We're-a here!" says Luigi while waving his arm from the balcony's entrance.

"Oh!" she all but glides through the room, after saying quick hi's to the medical toads. And when her and Mario are finally face to face, they embrace the other so tightly and tenderly that Luigi quietly leaves to give them some privacy. Mario exhales in utter relief, at finally feeling completely safe. And Peach let her chin rest over his hair.

They walk to the bed and Peach lovingly helps Mario to sit close to the pillows, while the plumber keeps his hands at all times in hers.

Doctor Toadlina suggests Peach changes her royal clothes into something less cumbersome, so Peach obliges- and Mario reasonably knows it's better that way and it wouldn't take her very long, but he looked worried when she started to back away, in direction to their wardrobe- she smiled and said she wouldn't take long. Yet he still held into her hands until she pulled back too much, and they slipped from his.

At Mario's very puppy-kicked eyes, Luigi laughs and says Peach will be back to his side soon! Mario wipes his eyes and lays back on the pillows, smiling a bit ashamed of his reaction. Soon enough, Peach gets back from the bathroom where she changed, with her hair tied up, her crown still on and dressed in a white shirt and pink trousers, without her gloves or her blue brooch.

From there, Peach takes Luigi's place and is the one to help Mario with the exercises and helping him walk around or lay down or help with his contractions. She uses her healing magic several times each hour to numb his pain, and Mario sighs in relief each time she does. Also at certain times they sit at the little coffee table while she feeds him nibbles from the light snacks the nurses left. Luigi is glad to simply sit back as back-up support until the birth, enjoying the lovebirds' interactions, which in his opinion are adorable.

(Y'know those moms that do their make-up all pretty for when they give birth?) Since Mario had been crying and wiping his eyes so much, let's say his eyeliner had kind of wore off almost completely- and, in a moment of relative calmness while they waited for Mario to be able to push, Peach went to their bathroom and came back with his eyeliner. She proceded to apply it while humming to herself, as she has done many other times (this post!), while Mario smiled all relaxedly. He wasn't in pain, the babies were barely moving or bothering him, and both his girlfriend and brother were there with him (as were the doctor and nurses), so he was feeling all safe, although tired.

Mario doesn't feel pain anymore, but he is still so very tired. And the next few hours of labor and contractions became taxing way too soon, feeling the pressure at his pelvis as the babies got ready to be born and all that. As Peach helped him walk around, he finally decided he had enough of that, so he squeezed her arm to let her know, and from then on he kept himself out of his feet.

He looked tiredly at his brother from time to time, looking for additional support, while Luigi said comforting words, because he knew all too well how Mario was feeling. He spent the last moments before pushing mostly supporting his weight on the bed while on his knees, or laying propped up against the pillows, or sitting at the edge, all while still trying to vaguely do the exercises to help dilation and stuff.

🌟 During the whole ordeal Toad is outside and so is Toadsworth, because none of them were let in, for Mario's (and the medical toads) comfort. The old toad is more or less a nervous mess, so Toad takes on distracting the soon-to-be grandpa, while his daughter and son-in-law (never mind that Peach and Mario weren't married, he'd consider him so if he wished!) were going through the whole thing.

Mario at most was grunting or groaning loudly and stuff, not really screaming or anything, so from outside they couldn't hear much- which was more worrying than comforting, bc they couldn't guess what was going on.

Almost a couple of hours later, one of the nurses peaks their head out, excitedly saying that the first baby has been delivered and it was a healthy baby girl. It leads to Toadsworth being all tears while Toad excitedly (and quietly) celebrates.

Maybe he (or maybe even Luigi) had been keeping their friends updated on the matter? They have a big friend group chat or something and he's been writing the few updates he has been getting, like:

First baby's a girl!!!👶🥳🥳

And he receives a bunch of confetti emojis and crying faces and excited replies in the next few minutes, and asking for pictures (which are sent by Luigi a lot later, when Mariella had been born too, and Mario was sleeping and so were the babies).

🌟 During the birth-

The birth of each baby is extremely quick.

Doctor Toadlina gives the ok to Mario that he's free to push, but he's nervous and he quickly turns to look at Luigi, with his eyes teary and clearly very scared. His brother hugs him and is quick to reassure him that it'll all be okay bc he's right there with him (the meaning behind the words is that as long as they're together everything will be okay :''''v cries in brotherly love), and Mario smiles and nods.

Despite that, he is still feeling terribly nervous, but he's determined to do it anyways (because what other option does he have? Not give birth? He has to do it!), so he firmly grabs Peach and Luigi's hands. He takes a deep breath to brace himself- and then he exhales and takes another breath. Then he quickly looks at Peach with a pout. She smiles brightly back, full of encouragement- so he takes one last breath.

And then, he pushes with all the strength he can muster, holding and clenching Peach's and Luigi's hands firmly, not bothering to hold back (so maybe it feels like the man is trying to break their fingers, but Peach and Luigi don't say anything about that, of course-)

(pipipi kinda sad of these drawings, in the sketches they looked better and like he was really putting force into it skdjks whatevs I lost them)

After the first push, the doctor is pleased to notice that he made a lot of progress right away. And Mario's all slumped back on the pillows and trying to catch his breath, but he smiles very slightly bc he's making it despite his tiredness, woo! Peach and Luigi congratulate him quietly on his efforts, while the princess squeezes his shoulder and his brother pads at his sweaty face with his wrist. That helps too in giving him more determination to keep pushing with all he got.

The thing is that (for the sake of funny, remember) Mario is very strong and it takes one more, really strong push and the first baby pops out in the whole sense of the expression. She just shots out and Doctor Toadlina is definitely caught off guard, but she still manages to hold the baby, the thing is that she stumbles back, and she would've fallen if the assisting nurse toads hadn't hurried to help her stay upright, all caught by surprise.

She's like obviously surprised, as are Peach, Mario and Luigi (who actually took a lot of effort to push his own baby out, so he's like 'wowie bro :0'), but she quickly snaps out of it and congratulates the now officially moms for their baby girl, while the baby cries with all her little lungs' strength, looking too big in the doctor's arms.

Then she instructs the nurses to cut the umbilical cord and do all the procedures to check on the baby's health, while Peach cries because "A baby girl! that means we'll have two baby girls! Oh, Mario!" and Mario looks almost heartbroken that they had to take their baby away (he knows it's for her own wellness, but he just wants to see and hold her already), but then smiles widely at Peach's words, and at his bro's excited congratulations and hugs.

Doctor Toadlina offers Peach to hold their first born so she can bring her to Mario, but Peach is kind of scared and feels shaky from excitement, so she hurriedly tells Luigi to hold their baby instead, since he has more experience. And when he does, Luigi first holds her to Mario's face, and after making the baby kiss his cheek, he places her in Mario's arms.

When the baby is placed in his arms, Mario can't help all his tears because she's so cute! (she's actually a bit ugly, like any newborn baby is) and small (not really, she's bigger than average, especially for a twin pregnancy), and she's utterly perfect (that part's true).

Peach and Mario lean their heads together while admiring their baby (and having so many tears running down their cheeks, but they don't care).

"Oh, Mario- she's perfect," Peach barely chokes out, feeling her heart overwhelmingly full. She turns to him and kisses his head a bunch of times, while Mario smiles brightly. "You did great!"

Then Doctor Toadlina tells Mario that, given baby two's position, it'd be a while for them to be born, so he's allowed to rest and maybe take a quick nap if he wishes to. And Mario takes up on the offer right away.

He leans his head back on the pillows and, with his baby still held in his arms, he knocks out immediately. Peach lets out a surprised but amused giggle. And Luigi shakes his head in amusement too, he gently brushes Mario's hair from his forehead, and then pats his head tenderly. Mario's arms go a bit lose around the baby, but Peach and Luigi make sure he still holds her firmly, supporting his arms with their hands. While Mario naps they whisper about the baby, and how cute she is, with her little cheek squished against Mario's chest.

Peach notes all the physical features that she notices, the clearest one being her round Mario™ nose! And her brown hair, and her little dot eyes, so similar to how she knew Mario's were when he was a baby!

(Mario and Peach totally fall in love when they see their oldest baby- and fall in love again with the second- who arrives almost half and hour later.)

🌟 Once both babies are in Mario's arms, Luigi takes 23429 pictures of the three while claiming that each picture is absolutely perfect, because Mario looks happy in them (and the babies look adorably ugly- like newborns usually do), and Peach, while crying her eyes out, says how she's going to put all 23429 of them in their photo album (that so far has many pictures of Mario's pregnancy process-).

Mario's sure he looks terrible, because despite his joy he feels really exhausted, he can barely keep his eyes open enough to look at Luigi's phone while he snaps several pictures, and even though Peach ran her fingers through his hair to fix it up a bit for that moment, he knew it probably was still a mess.

It's just that everything happened so quickly and it was taking its toll on him, but at least he's very glad that both babies (baby girls! They're Mariella and Nettarina!) are in his arms already.

After everything is done, and he knows his babies are going to be well-cared for, Mario just passes out the rest of the night, and nothing wakes him up. When the babies start to get fussy because they feel hungry, Peach and Luigi take care of them, and they keep doing it for the whole rest of the afternoon and night, all while quietly speaking among themselves how cute the baby girls are and how much they look like either Mario or Peach (definitely more like Mario). Peach tears up almost each time she looks down at the babies' little faces, but it's out of her overwhelming happiness, while she whispers to herself: 'stars, they're finally here!'

At some moment, Peach hands Mariella to Luigi's arms so she can drink some water, since the baby seemed adamant about not joining her twin (and mamma) in sleeping.

"I feel very dehydrated-" she says quietly and then serves herself a glass from their coffee table. Peach makes the mistake of looking back to her brother-in-law and the little bundle of light green blankets in his arms, and she has to cover her mouth to sob again, turning to look at her glass. Oh, she was so small! And so real and there already! She hadn't felt this overwhelmingly happy since... maybe ever. And also, Peach is sure the lack of sleep has something to do with her very emotional state.

"I don't blame you, you've-a cried so much, Peach," mutters Luigi distractedly, as if he hadn't been crying a lot too, while very gently rocking one of his newborn nieces as the baby slowly blinked at him.

She had a round nose like all the Marios did (he, his bro and Magma-), and very relaxed little eyebrows, and almost a full head of reddish chestnut hair. And her little mouth was not even pouting, but Luigi couldn't help but think that she (and her sister, since they were identical) reminded him very much of when Magma was a newborn, and just placed in his arms (he also briefly remembered Mario's and Bowser's weeping when they saw her properly, and he huffed a laugh to himself).

-By the end, Peach puts only some (but still many) of the pictures in their family album, several of Mario holding the girls, either smiling or kissing them, others of her holding them, others of both new moms with their babies, and others of Luigi holding his nieces.

🌟 The next morning, Mario wakes up and the first thing he does is stretch as much as he can, realizing that he actually slept pretty well (and he was even laying on his back!). He feels a bit sore and all but less... heavy. He looks down to his body and sees his still round and swollen belly, but much less than it should be if he had two babies inside. He panics for all of a few seconds as he looks around the room, and a huge relief envelops him as he sees the two wooden bassinets that hadn't been there the day before, until the previous afternoon, when one of the nurses brought them in from the nursery to lay the babies.

He looks at the other two sleeping adults in the room, at Peach sitting in one of the armchairs in their room, with her cheek against her fist in what must be an uncomfortable position, with her crown still placed perfectly on top of her head. And to Luigi, sprawled at the foot of the bed, hatless and snoring slightly.

He smiles to himself slightly and slowly gets out of bed, wincing a bit because he still feels kind of tender from the previous day and the toll it had in his body. Mario waddles sluggishly to the bassinets and his soft smile turns bright as he looks at the little babies' faces. They're still as perfect as they were the day before, when he had them in his arms.

He looks at the oldest baby, Nettarina, wrapped in the red-pink blanket, just like he and Peach accorded that the first baby to be born would be, and then to Mariella, who's wrapped in light green. And whose little dot eyes are blinking open. Mario gets closer to her bassinet, and he leans a bit while smiling softly to her.

"Hi, baby," he whispers, holding out a hand to lightly caress her very soft cheek with a finger. Mariella just keeps blinking, with her little closed fists close to her face. She does a big yawn with her eyes tightly closed, and then she keeps looking and blinking in Mario's direction.

She was just born yesterday, and of course her vision was just terrible, but Mario still smiled at her widely as if to show her how happy he was that she was finally there. After a while the baby fell asleep, all while Mario kept looking at her.

He spent some very good minutes on his feet beside his babies, until Peach stirred awake and, upon seeing Mario standing, scrambled to her feet and with a smile asks how he's feeling-

The morning goes all nicely and stuff while both new moms (and uncle!) spend the time caring for the babies and tending to them. When it's the afternoon and Mario's feeling much better, they first let Toadsworth in -who got there early to ask for Mario's and the babies' state- and he's all weepy while looking at his grandbabies!

Maybe a few days later their friends meet their babies, as do their niblings and Daisy and all :''v

[mechazushi]

Insane Dad Lore (Essential Errand)

[Slight Trigger Warning] Verbal Abuse.

[Notes] Sooooo.... change of plans.... Instead of posting the chapters in order even if I get them done out of order, I'm just going to post them as I finish them and then organize them once I port all the chapters to Ao3. Really, the ultimate goal here was to just get all the ideas on (electronic) paper anyway. So I guess ya'll are going to have fun wondering what order these are going to go in, {cuz' I'll be doing the same damn thing ᕙ (° ~ ° ~)}

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There had been a break in the lore gathering where there wasn't as many an opportunity to try and pry some new childhood history out of Kafka. That didn't mean there wasn't inciting incidents that led to new loose threads. It was after an early morning period of training did such an event arose. Reno and Kafka has just gotten back to barracks after hitting the gym just to come back and find Minase in a state of inconsolable crying. Hakua was sitting next to a tower of shaking blankets placed on the bed, desperately trying to appease the distraught soldier within by patting and rubbing its back as well as whispering words of comfort. She tried to say comforting things at least, but must have accidentally said something to make the crying worse.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Reno tried to ask as they passed through the door.

"I'm not entirely sure? I just caught the tail end of a phone conversation and now she's like this." Hakua told them as she continued to hug the pile of blankets close, "Whatever it was, it sounded pretty distressing."

"Hey, Reno?" Kafka spoke softly down to his friend, not wanting to take his eyes of of their compatriot, "Can you do me a favor and go down to the vending machine and grab a water? I feel like she's going to need it."

Reno nodded quickly and turned back out the doorway, leaving Kafka. He approached Hakua and nodded his head away, silently asking permission to sit on the bed next to Minase. After she moved, Kafka sat down slowly so as to not make the pile of blankets jump. He mimiced Hakua's original position and wrapped his large arm around the tower, Squeezing it close to him as he tried to wrap his other arm around it.

"Heeeyyy, Minase." He said cheerfully, but not loudly, "Looks like you're not having a good go of things, huh?" The covered pile only continued to cry.

"Bad days are no fun, aren't they?" He chuckled in an attempt to brighten the mood, "It's safe to say that there's never going to be a shortage of those. You wanna know what makes me feel better about them though?" He tried to ask the sad menagerie of stolen blankets. It had stopped full on crying and had downgraded to some small sniffles.

"Much like our tears, it can't be raining all the time. Otherwise we wouldn't be able to see the sun!" He smiled brightly as the pile continued to sniff harshly. Eventually, a very red face with pink, tear stained eyes managed to poke her face out from under the blankets.

"Wow, are you corny." Minase said through a mixture of tearful snorts and half-efforted chuckles.

"Got our resident Sun to poke her pretty little head out, didn't it?" Kafka joked back as he gently tugged the edge of the blanket off from around her hair.

She giggled a little in return as she leaned in harder into Kafka's embrace. Seeing Minase in a more relaxed state that what she was in earlier, Hakua took the opportunity to seat herself behind Minase and lean her weight against her back as a show of support. They all took a few minutes of the calm for themselves, just letting their friend take deep soothing breaths and let the last of her tears drain from her eyes. Reno came in after Minase had gotten her heart under control and gladly took the offered water bottle. He had decided to sit on the floor in between Kafka's legs and Minase's.

"Want us to grab anything for you? I think they're selling strawberry ice cream fish cakes in the canteen." Hakua offered as a helpful gesture. Minase's tears almost triggered again as she thought about the offer.

"Sound's great." She said bitterly, "But I think I would rather have my dogs right now."

"Oh, you have dogs?" Reno asked innocently. He started to cringe and think he said something wrong once Minase started to cry again.

"Not for much longer apparently!" She wailed, "I think my horrible step-father is threatening to kill my dogs!" She tried to wipe her tears with the edge of the soiled blanket, but it wasn't very effective.

"Now why would someone do something like that?" Kafka asked, astonished at the thought.

"I don't know! I think he's just always had it out for me since he came into the family!" Minase's tears had slowed, but her sorrowful screams hadn't, "I had them stay with Aunti Mei before I left for the defense force, but apparently her new landlord is evicting the pets at her place, so she had to drop them off back at mom's, but Chase hates me; he's always hated me! And now he's taking it out on my bubbies!"

"Oh, baby…" Hakua said softly as she tried to give Minase a hug from behind.

"I just got off the phone with him, I don't even know how he got my number, but it's just… something he said, or how he said it… I don't know, I just feel like my babies aren't safe anymore!" She began to cry again as Kafka held her even harder, "I can't bring them here! I don't have any other relatives nearby to send them too! I refuse to send them to a shelter! I don't know what to do!"

As she continued to cry again, Reno could see Kafka's expression growing darker and darker. He had tucked Minase's head into his chest as he listened to her woes. Reno started to wonder if maybe it was so she couldn't see the quiet anger building up behind his eyes. Suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch in his head, Kafka donned as soft smile, one that barely managed to hide the softly rolling fury behind his expression. He brought a hand up to gently pat the top of her head. With a clearly sincere tone, Kafka spoke some more sweet words until she stopped crying again. When he could hear the hiccuping had slowed, he pulled her head back and made sure to look her in the eyes.

"Minase, I'm going to tell you this right now. You aren't going to worry your strong heart any longer, ya got me? Nothing is going to hurt your fluffy little friends, okay?" Minase just looked at him with a lot of burning questions in her eyes, but found that she didn't have the strength to say them.

"I wan't to hear you say 'Okay' too." Kafka gently placed both of his hands on either side of her face as he asked, "Please?"

"Oh-okay." she said meekly.

"Atta-girl." He responded as he gave her one last strong hug.

Kafka then looked at Hakua and gave her an expression that seemed to communicate a lot of things, most of which Reno just translated as 'Keep an eye on her'. He then got up loudly from the bed and stretched, groaning all the way. He walked over to his personal locker at the other side of the room and could be heard rummaging through it. Reno couldn't see what he was grabbing from his spot on the floor, but could definitely hear when he stopped going through his and suddenly started going through what he thought to be Aoi's.

"Sir, can I ask what you are doing?" Reno called out as he got up from the floor to investigate the weird behavior.

"Hm? Oh, just- uhh, changing into civilian clothes. I just remembered I had some business outside of base that I should probably take care of." Kafka said as he donned a large black jacket, thin gloves, a neck gaiter, and grabbed his over-sized black towel. The item he had seemed to grab from Aoi's locker was his spare set of combat boots.

"Okay… If it's just errands, then why do you need Aoi's boots? Aren't they bigger than your feet?" Reno continued to question as he followed Kafka out of the barracks and over to what appeared to be a supply closet.

"Oh, the boots? I-uh, noticed mine were pinching my feet, so I thought I'd take Aoi's for a spin." Kafka offered as an excuse, but Reno could tell what a poor excuse it was. It didn't distract him enough from questioning why Kafka was holding the door's handle a weird way and suddenly slamming his shoulder into it.

"Isn't that door locked?" Reno kept interrogating an uninterested Kafka. He didn't stop him once he somehow managed to bash the door open and walked inside like he owned everything.

"Only if you don't know how shittly made some of the doors are here on base." Kafka said nonchalantly as he scanned the shelves within. He found and grabbed a flat head screwdriver, a hammer, and a can of WD-40 and put them inside the towel before twisting the whole thing together and tying it in such a way as to not have the contents spill out.

"Hey, could you do me another favor? I know, I'm asking a lot today, but just this once? I'll even pay you back for the water bottle later, but first, could you help Hakua keep an eye on Minase while I'm gone?" Kafka asked as he left the supply closet and slung the impromptu bag over his shoulder.

"Wait, you're leaving now?" Reno asked as he followed him to the end of the hallway.

"Yeah, bud! I just said I had errands to do, didn't I? Don't worry, I'll be sure to tell Vice Cap where I'm going." Kafka said with an encouraging wink as he rounded the corner and quickly jogged out of sight.

Reno wasn't sure what was going on with his friend, but he was fairly certain it wasn't good. It certainly didn't make him feel better about knowing that Kafka was about to do it without him.

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It was about three am that night when Minase got woken up by another phone call. She shook the sleepy fog from her head as her pink flip-phone rang out it's cheery little chip tune. She grabbed her phone quickly and walked as fast as she could bring herself to in her groggy state out the barrack door. She walked a good distance away before sliding the device open and taking the call.

"Sweetie?" A familiar voice called out, not bothering to hide the distress it carried.

"Mom? Are you okay? What's going on?" Minase answered in a gravely tone, trying to get accustomed to understanding others on a lack of sleep.

"Listen Sweetie, I get you were upset at your father about what he said about the dogs-"

"He's not my dad." Minase interrupted in a quiet voice, knowing that her mother was just going to ignore the comment anyway,

"- But I don't think it warranted hiring a hit-man to get them!" Her mother whispered harshly. In the background, she could hear the sound of sirens and her step-father shouting at someone.

"Wait, what?" Minase asked as she rubbed her face.

"I understand you're attached to your little goobers, but Chase wasn't actually going to hurt them! He loves them too, he just has a hard time showing it and-"

"Mom, stop, back up. What was that about a hit-man?" Minase thought she had heard her mother wrong when she said something about a hit-man.

"A strange man broke into our house tonight and stole your dogs!" Her mom said as her quiet tone got increasingly shrill.

"Maybe start with that?!" Minase almost felt like she was shouting once she heard about the break-in.

"What, that someone stole the dogs? I thought I did?" her mom questioned.

"No-god, the break in! Someone broke in?" Minase's mind started to fray again. First with her step-father threatening her dogs and now this!

"Yes, I thought that was implied with the dog-napping?" her mother could be scatter-brained some days, but tonight was taking the cake. Minase was growling as she tried to think of her next question, but stopped once she heard her mother scuffling with someone on the other end of the line.

"god damn it woman just hand it here- YOU." A clearly irritated voice broke into the private conversation with an enraged bellow, "Listen here you dumb bitch, I get that being a Defense force officer might make you feel like such a big girl now, but getting one of your suped-up, mutant Kaiju super-freaks to come down here and take away your stupid mutts is a clear overstepping of where you stand in life! How many dicks did you have to suck off for that, Huh? Did you have to get on your hands and knees, bat your dull little eyes at the first dumb schmuck that would listen to you? It really speaks to the quality of your fellow members that if you were that desperate for your yippy rats, you somehow managed to find some deprived knuckle-dragger willing to dedicate some serious grey matter to this idiotic plan of yours and-"

"Shut up, just shut UP!" Minase yelled into her phone, "I didn't ask anyone to get my dogs back! No one even knows where you live because I actively try to forget you exist! We don't even have any mutant Kaiju hit-men for me to even bother sending out to your dilapidated rust bucket shed you call a house!"

"Oh yeah? Tell that to my right fist I just sent through someone's eye socket! Not to mention the fact the fridge has a dent in it now from where that stupid asshat sent me flying into it! Ya wanna come down and take a look at it and continue to be the stupid little bitch that you are, huh? Denying that you got someone from your freak division to come down here and fuck up my shit? You know your paying for the damages, right? I'll be expecting money for a new fridge, a nice one, from your paycheck and it better be before the sun rises on your precious bitch lackey's funereal!-" At that point, Minase just clicked the flip phone shut.

The creaking of its case echoed slightly into the empty hallway as her fist tightened around it in restrained rage. Her arm shook with the force of her quiet wrath before launching her phone into the nearest wall with the full force of everything she wanted to hold back. She watched as it bounced off the wall and bench under it before coming to a stop a few feet from her. The phone looked like it remained intact, with was more than what one could say about her emotions right now. Minase tried not to fall directly onto her knees and instead stumbled quickly over to a nearby vending machine, its light acting as a pleasant beacon in her mind. She tried to stop herself from falling onto it, but her knees gave out at the worse time and caused the machine to rattle a little from the force of her landing. Tears had been welling up for a while, but now fell freely from her tired eyes. She felt her legs lose their strength as she slipped quietly onto the floor, covering up her sobs as best she could.

"Minase? Is… that you?" A tired voice cracked the night's stillness, causing her to turn and face the newcomer.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Minase whispered as she gathered herself up just enough to ask Iharu, who was standing in the hallway with just a pair of sleep shorts.

"No… Well, kinda. But that's not important." Iharu rubbed the sleep from his face as he came over to the vending machine and helped Minase onto her feet just enough to help shuffle her over to the bench next to it.

He turned around and went back to the barracks and returned shortly with cash, and paid for a can of hot corn soup from the machine. He chugged some of it and hissed from the heat before sitting down next to her on the bench.

"Here, it's cold out here. You should get something warm in ya." He said as he offered the half eaten can.

She took the offered can with reserved appreciation and took a small sip for herself. A part of her didn't want the company, but considering it could have been anyone else that found her, she was at least glad that it was Iharu. When growing up with a family life that was less than ideal, it tends to make one yearn for anything stable in their life. Minase initially left because she wanted just that, and joining the Defense Force gave her the perfect opportunity. While continuing her training, she came to hear all about how the Defense Force was a great place to not only meet great people, but a place to form deep bonds with them. Something she wanted to experience with all her heart.

It wasn't hard to make friends here with everyone being fairly like minded people. It had only been about a month and she already felt like she was a sister to everyone here. She couldn't even begin to explain just how quickly she became attached to everyone, including the witty old guy in their battalion. Minase knew it was way too early to admit this, but she really did like to think of Kafka as the dad she wished she had. And if Kafka was her dad, then Iharu felt like the brother she always wanted. Most girls here probably would have had their hearts racing at the thought of having an indirect kiss with the resident hot-shot, but to her it just felt like something a caring brother would have done.

"So can I ask what happened, or do you want to sit in silence together until you feel like letting me walk you back to bed?" Iharu asked with a yawn, slouching over until his elbows hit his knees.

Minase bitterly chuckled, "I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep for a while, let alone tonight."

"What, did the fucked-up old man say something stupid and insane like usual?" Iharu tried to be helpful as he tried to cut her step-father down.

"No." Minase tried to playfully counter before contradicting herself, "Well, yes, and it's actually kinda serious, but it wasn't what he said about me."

She took a deep breath before she spoke, "Someone broke into my parent's place tonight."

"Anyone hurt?" Iharu reflexively fired back.

"No one that didn't deserve it. Chase got thrown into the fridge after he slugged the guy, but the biggest problem is that the guy that broke in stole my dogs." Minase answered before she took another sip of the hot canned soup.

"Fuuuuck." Iharu sleepily droned out, "Ain't that a swift kick in the nuts."

"You know what hurts the most?" Minase hinted at, "Is that I feel a little relieved that it happened." She tried to hold back another wave of sobs which caused her lungs to hiccup and her frame to shake again.

"Nooo, Minase! You don't mean that, come on." Iharu drawled as he scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. She tucked her head into his chest as a hand came up to hold back her tears.

"They have a chance to go to a nicer family this way, right? They practically look like pure-breeds so some fancy, upper-crust family would have to pay out the nose to give them a happy life." Minase continued to quietly sob as she did her best to hug Iharu back for personal support.

"Look, it's been reported to the police, right? Maybe in the morning we can head to your parents' place and we can ask your mother for details. Or maybe we just spend a day or two posting flyers, I don't know. Either way, we can all pitch in to get your dogs back." Iharu tried to comfort her as he rubbed soothing circles into her shaking back.

"There's no point if I have no where to keep them!" Minase did her best to muffle her pitiful wails behind her already occupied hands.

Off in the distance down the hallway, they heard a strange noise, loud enough to be heard over their emotional conversation. Iharu spared a glance down the darkened hallway in what he hoped was the direction the noise was from. Since Minase didn't seem to hear it the first time, he ignored his instincts and went back to comforting her. However, he couldn't bring himself to ignore his gut feelings any longer once he heard what sounded like chairs crashing and a muffled curse.

"What was that?" Iharu muttered suspiciously as he shifted on the bench.

"Yeah, I heard it too." Minase confirmed as she wiped away the last of her tears.

The two of them looked at each other before deciding to get up and follow the noise. They traveled down the almost pitch black hallway with Minase peering into the dark panes of glass that lined the corridor with the light from her phone. Iharu quickly found a janitor's closet in the dark and began to brutally shoulder the door open. He reached inside and grabbed a wide broom and met back up with Minase.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"Intruders?" Iharu answered with an unsure shrug.

"Why would anyone want to break into a Defense Force Base?" Minase countered.

"I'm sorry, do you think we get paid enough to ask that kind of question right now?" Iharu retaliated as he brandished the makeshift weapon.

They didn't have to continue very far before they noticed something strange in one of the offices on that floor. Looking through the inner window, they both noticed that one office was a lot brighter than the others, mainly due to the fact that one of the outer windows was open and the blinds covering it were drawn up. The full moon outside gave out enough light to let the duo see what was a clear outline of a large, hunched figure currently ducked behind a desk. They quietly rushed to the office door, and once finding it unlocked, let themselves inside. With her phone off, they stealthily rounded the desks behind the lumbering figure.

Iharu couldn't tell what the person was saying, but could tell that they were struggling with something wriggling in their jacket. As he lifted the full weight of the broom to come down on the intruder's head, he accidentally knocked the head of it against the lip of a desk next to him. As he let out a clipped curse, the stranger in front of them quickly turned around and scrambled backwards across the floor screaming. Startled by his screaming, both Iharu and Minase began to scream as well. Once everyone started screaming, did two little yapping fluff balls make their presence known.

"Wait, dogs?" Iharu called out first once he heard the unusual disturbance.

"Shit, Iharu?" The barely masked stranger guessed after he calmed down.

"Kafka?" Minase and Iharu both answered once they heard the intruder's voice.

"Well, so much for anonymity." Kafka groaned sarcastically as he pulled down his face mask.

Minase turned and bolted for the light switches back next to the door to the office and turned the lights on. Coming back she saw two familiar looking lumps of hyperactive fur rapidly shaking in the confines of the large black jacket Kafka was still wearing.

"Ronny! Tototo!" She cried as she scrambled for her twin Pomeranian pups.

Kafka unzipped his jacket and very carefully pulled them out so he could hand them over to a very teary eyes Minase. Iharu let the broom drop to the floor as he watched with astonishment while Minase fell to her knees and lavished her once forsaken pets. She held them close as she lovingly pelted them with loud kisses before fully falling to the floor and laid on her side, letting them lick her back with equal voracity. More tears came to spill out, not of sadness for once, but out of happiness and was now mixing into a layer of joyous dog slobber being lathered on her face. Her enthusiastic giggles could not be contained and instead echoed slightly in the mostly empty office. As the scene unfolded before them, Iharu slowly moved closer to Kafka and helped the quietly elated man off the floor.

"Jeezus, man! What the hell happened to your eye?" Iharu asked once Kafka had dusted himself off.

"Hmm! Oh, this?" Kafka answered as he pointed to the fresh shiner blooming over his right eye, "Got distracted and walked right into a light pole! Can ya believe it!" He tacked on a great big smile to hopefully sell the lie.

"Uh huh." Iharu grunted, already suspicious, "Was the distraction caused by the dogs or from recovering getting knocked in the head first?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." Kafka muttered as he innocently shrugged.

"Really?" Iharu incredulously countered, "You seriously expect us to believe that you didn't just break into Minase's Dad's house, knock his front door in, and make away with the dogs in question."

"Yes, because what the story actually is-" Kafka began with a mischievous glint in his good eye, "That I graciously intervened in what was clearly a home invasion gone wrong, rescued the dogs off the street after failing to apprehend the suspect that just so happened to be a similar build and height to me, and have so humbly decided that I could bring these poor, distraught, and fluffy victims to a safe location before notifying their proper owner. Who, come to find out, I just so happen to work with." Kafka finished smugly, "There's already a police report and everything."

Iharu rubbed his hands over his tired face for a moment and groaned loudly, "Oh, this is bad. Oh, you are going to get so caught." Those same hands came up to pull back on his hair, "How did you even know which house to hit? Minase never says anything about her family. E-e-even then, what's your excuse for being out so late? You have to know that Vice-Cap is going to kill you for being out this long."

"I don't know if you know this, but there aren't a whole lot of guys living in Western Japan with the legal name Chase, let alone living with a woman whose last name is Akari." Kafka informed as he patted Iharu's back, "And look, just leave the rest of the scary shit up to me. This may come as a shock, but this isn't the first time I've had to duck an assault charge as well as B+E." Upon hearing this, Iharu slowly turned and looked up at the fellow brother-in-arms, now a complete stranger to him once again.

"Please tell me this is just another Germany thing?" He asked, wanting it to coax out some reassurance that Kafka wasn't as crazy as he was being led to believe.

Kafka just let out a breathy chuckle, "I'll tell you about it some other time." He left cryptically open-ended.

Iharu watched as Kafka walked off and joined Minase on the floor, pulling out strips of cold, precooked bacon from the pocket of his jeans and teased the Pomeranian brothers with it. Iharu, still being too tired to continue to question any of this, just shook his head gave up, preceding to join the other two people on the floor and introduced himself to the new ferociously furry company.

"i really appreciate you doing this for me Kafka!" Minase cheered as she held her pups close to her chest, "But it doesn't change the fact that they can't stay here. I'm sure the higher-ups wouldn't let us."

"You let me worry about that too." Kafka countered as he tore up the last strip of bacon he owned, "Who knows, maybe Bakko could do with a pair of friends."

"Or a set of snacks." Iharu mumbled as he reached out a hand for one of the Pomeranians to sniff at.

"Don't even joke like that." Minase growled as she harshly pulled her dogs out for Iharu's reach.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

-

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

-

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

-

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Lucanis (and also Spite and the Crows) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Lucanis: 

Family and the past:

Lucanis learnt to cook while helping the kitchen staff at the villa when he was a little boy. One of his motivations was learning how to make churros

Side note: Lucanis mentions that cioccolata calda was his favourite drink when he was a baby, and he serves churros to a romanced Rook who picks cioccolata calda as their favourite drink. It’s all coming together! 

Lucanis wanted to be a Crow when he was a child (at least most of the time)  

All of Lucanis's relatives were Crows as well, and all of them were killed by a rival Crow house

Lucanis says Caterina would be proud of Illario hiding his plans well, as well as killing her 

Lucanis says that the hard part about setting Illario free would be convincing Caterina 

Lucanis says that nightlife was more of Illario's thing, and he never got out as much

On Crows and Antiva:

Viago still stares daggers at Lucanis for throwing his (Viago's) pet snake out of the window in a dream

Lucanis doesn't like it when people confuse murder and assassination ("Murderers are hobbyists, we are professionals")

Lucanis has taken contracts in Orlais

Lucanis doesn’t know Treviso as well as he once used to 

Heir didn’t train Lucanis

Lucanis says he has never killed an innocent “by his count” (other people may disagree) 

Lucanis doesn’t think of the Crows as a “big organisation” (unlike the Inquisition) because they stab each other too much

Lucanis became a mage-killer at Caterina’s behest (she wanted to tap into new markets)

The nickname “The Demon of Vyrantium” came from Tevinter news-sheets, though Lucanis thinks Viago started it

Lucanis says that there aren't any special tricks to killing mages. Though, if nothing else works, you can try pissing them off, as that could attract a demon that would eat the mage

Lucanis once killed half a dozen venatori while stuck inside an elevator 

Lucanis doesn’t consider himself a gentleman assassin, manners are less important than getting the job done

Lucanis sometimes spares his targets. He mentioned letting go of a servant who killed her master, as well as a 14-year-old boy. He thinks it’s wrong to kill people so young because they still have time to change

Lucanis doesn’t accept contracts without merit, and the merit is decided by the talon of the house

General:

Lucanis can make bread

Lucanis has never been to Ferelden

Lucanis isn’t interested in killing wyverns, just looking at them :)  

Lucanis has a pet snake 

Lucanis stays awake at night by cleaning his gear, exercising, studying Orlesian and knitting ("it’s just another kind of blade work") 

Lucanis doesn’t understand a lot of things people find attractive

(In a conversation with Harding) Thinking about cooking was one of the things that helped Lucanis stay sane in the Ossuary (the other was thinking about killing his enemies) 

(In a conversation with Davrin) Lucanis survived the Ossuary by shutting down and not thinking about anything except escaping

These two points sort of contradict each other. Either an inconsistency or Lucanis describing his experience differently to different people. 

The Wetlands ruined at least one pair of Lucanis’s boots

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Lucanis offers to pay for any supplies the Shadow Dragons may need 

Lucanis doesn't get a better bed because he's afraid of accidentally falling asleep 

Lucanis can identify the killer’s weapon and the height difference between them and the target just through the blood splatter left at the scene

Lucanis considers Grey Wardens dangerous 

Lucanis doesn’t like necromancy, because bringing people back to life is a waste of hard work

Lucanis finds the ice coffee from Minrathous offensive (Harding describes it as “snow, but made of coffee, sweet, and with cream and toffee sauce on top”)

Lucanis had never been in a romantic relationship before Rook/Neve

Relationships with other companions: 

Lucanis gets into reading Bellara’s serials (very passionately - they chat about it a bunch)

Lucanis is outraged that the Veil Jumpers don’t get paid for their work and offers Bellara his contract negotiator

Lucanis made biscuits for Assan

Lucanis is sceptical that the griffons will be safe with the Wardens

Lucanis think that Assan shouldn’t go soft (referring to the time he took care of a halla) because he is a predator at heart

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Lucanis offers to hold a funeral for Manfred

Lucanis and Harding talk a lot about dreams (mostly silly things like showing up naked for the job, getting chased by someone/something etc.)

Lucanis thinks Harding is deadly with her bow

Lucanis offers to pay Harding for being his lookout/aide at the rate of 6000 gold per contract

Lucanis offers the help of his contract negotiator to Neve after he finds out she doesn't have one

Lucanis made deep-fried peppers for Taash

About Spite: 

Emmrich can hear Spite even when he doesn’t take over Lucanis’s body (at least from a close distance)

Spite is impartial to Emmrich, believing him more than Lucanis

Emmrich says it’s impossible to separate Spite and Lucanis without killing them

Emmrich encourages Lucanis to read to Spite to bring them closer. Lucanis agrees to let Spite pick a book

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Spite asks if he and Lucanis can get rid of their skin too 

(If Manfred is revived at the Necropolis) Spite asks Emmrich to teach him how to use fire magic. Lucanis isn’t thrilled by the idea

Emmrich sets up wards to prevent Spite from leaving the room when Lucanis is asleep

Spite no longer sleepwalks after “Inner Demons” because he apparently understood the concept of space

By the end of the game, Spite has agreed to stop sleepwalking completely

Spite controls the wings (confirmed in banter with Harding) 

Spite wants to try swinging off the astrolabe at the Lighthouse

Spite is very excited about Manfred having hands and feet (Curiosity. Has. Feet!)

Spite finds the wisps in Neve’s room unnerving (as do Lucanis and Neve)

Spite likes to play with whetstones Bellara got for Lucanis (Bellara got them from the Irelin who supposedly got them from somewhere in Arlathan) 

Spite wants to try eating self-lightning candles at Blackthorne Manor

About the Crows: 

Crows frequently visit Nevarra and have received 20 contacts to assassinate the king. The King has been poisoned 7 times

Crows get a lot of contracts for Divine Victoria

Some seers in Rivain are powerful enough that there are contracts on them as well

Caterina once killed a man with a thimble

When Crows kill someone, most of the time they want others to know it was them (rather than presenting the death as an accident) 

The crows buried six different Eight Talons and rarely take contracts in Ferelden after the Zevran fiasco

[fromdove]

RAINCHECK (LITERALLY) ! j.todd x reader

"what? you said I could come over,"

— no warnings, gn!reader (but written with a fem reader in mind.), tooth rotting fluff...you might get cavities

— for my teeny tiny babiest mon cheri (@minorlyatfault),,, i wass going to write j.todd angsty smut but i pussied out like a lil bitch soooo.. sorri. might post it some other day maybe...

— I tried to make jason a little bit more boyish in this because sometimes people forget he's only 19.. like my baby (grown ass man but still my baby)

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

“rainy today. stay dry, don’t forget your hood, hood.” “also. my place is always open if patrol gets too much. keys under the mat if you need it.” “and the couch. and me. obviously.” “also also: i got the cereal. your weird cinnamon one." “figured it might cheer you up. or at least distract you for five minutes.” “no pressure. just… letting you know.” "okokokok sorry bye now."

Maybe he wouldn't show. Maybe he had other plans. Maybe he'd decide the rain was too much. But you couldn’t help but send the message anyway, hoping something might shift.

You didn’t expect much back—maybe a text about a bat emergency or a thumbs up, like always. But even so, there was this soft hope inside you, an old feeling you tried not to acknowledge. Maybe this time, he’d show up in a way that felt like he was staying.

You forget about it. you put the cereal away. you watched the rain start, steady and slow, like the city was being tucked in.

You’d just started boiling water for tea when the knock came.

You paused, staring at the kettle like maybe you imagined the knock. One knock. Then another. You waited. The knock came again. Soft, but certain. You turn the stove off and walk to the door.

you opened the door. and he was there.

The hallway light caught in the rivulets running down his jacket. He blinked at you like he wasn’t sure you’d really open the door. His breath fogged in the space between you.

He was drenched head to toe, water clinging to his leather jacket & dark hair plastered to his forehead.

"You said your place was open,” jason says, almost sheepishly. “Also, you weren't kidding about the rain."

you blink at him. “you walked?”

"the bike hydroplaned. & your street's a no-fly zone." he shrugs. “batboat wasn’t available either."

“I thought about calling,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… didn’t want to give you time to say no.” He laughs, short and dry. “Guess I hoped the rain would work in my favor.”

you took him in: tired eyes, half-smirk, shivering hands. jason todd: the only man alive who could look like a stray dog and a greek statue at the same time.

you let him in before the thunder can answer.

His wet shoes make a soft squelch on the doormat.

You remember when he used to disappear for weeks. When “I’m fine” meant blood and bruises and locked doors. This—just showing up, soaked and tired—was growth.

“you’re lucky I like soggy vigilantes,” you say, walking beside him.

“you love me for my sogginess,” he says while he give you that smirk, leaning his head against yours. “it’s part of my charm.”

"uh huh. very charming. very wet dog chic. now give me your clothes"

“is that a threat or a promise?”

you glared. he smirked wider, teeth glinting as he peeled off his jacket and hoodie, all soaked leather and black cotton, until he was left in a clinging grey tee.

You try not to stare, but his shirt clings like it’s auditioning for a romance novel cover. You turn away before your face betrays you, pretending to care very deeply about the floor.

You hand him a towel. dry clothes. the navy hoodie you stole from him last week.

He doesn’t even look at you when he takes the hoodie, but you catch the slight twitch of his lips and the tiny flicker of recognition in his eyes. he doesn’t comment on it though. Either way, the hoodie fits him just as well as you remember.

He didn’t even ask for it back when he saw you wearing it last time. Just grinned that half-grin and said, “looks better on you anyway.” You pretended not to melt. You’re still pretending now.

Behind you, you hear him rubbing the towel through his hair—brisk, impatient.

And once he’s changed and warm and only slightly damp-haired, he walks over to your cabinet, somehow knowing exactly which one contains the cereal you bought him, takes it and walks back to the couch and flops onto your couch like a man recently rescued from sea.

he hums while he tears the cereal box open to get to the cereal. you go to turn the heater on. You then make your way over to sit next to him on the couch.

“You eat like you’ve been starved,” you mutter. “Maybe I have,” he says, too casually. You glance at him, but he’s already crunching again, like he didn’t just say something that cracked your heart open a little.

You noticed he's stolen your blanket. You blink at him. He grins around a mouthful of cereal like a child who's won a very small war.

But very silently and gently though, he pulls the blanket over and drapes most of it around you—at least 95%, like he’s sacrificing something monumental. You roll your eyes with a smirk. “Seriously? The heater’s on. I’ve been warm and cozy in my apartment all day. You clearly need it more than I do.” You push the blanket back onto him. He doesn’t say a word—just arches one amused brow, the corner of his mouth threatening a smile.

For a moment, you just sit there. Only sound is the rain tapping on the windows & the sound of crunching cereal coming from Jason. his fingers find yours, soft, almost shy. like he’s not used to being held with nothing expected in return.

You let your fingers curl around his. He stiffens—but then relaxes into the touch like it’s a language he��s only just remembering how to speak.

you notice him, hoodie half-swallowed by his broad shoulders, hair only a tiny still damp & curling a little at the ends.

“thanks,” he says finally, like it’s too small a word for what he means. “for what?” “uh y'know" he shrugs, not used to expressing his feelings, he continues though, "letting me in your home. I like being here.”

“you’re allowed to. that’s kind of the point.”

“what’s the point?”

“me,” you say, nudging him with your socked toe. “you. cereal. kisses, ideally.”

that gets his attention. slowly, like he’s afraid it’ll scare you off, he turns to face you.

“kisses, huh?” he says, voice low. teasing. unsure.

you nod. slow. serious. “just one. I’m rationing.”

You try to keep your voice casual, but there's something about the way your heart beats faster that gives you away. You’re rationing kisses now, huh?

“reasonable,” he murmurs. “global supply chain issues and all.”

“Oh, yeah. Kissflation’s out of control these days,” you say, deadpan.

He chuckles, clearly entertained—amusement flickering in his eyes.

His hand then hovers near your jaw, not quite touching. Your heart does a thing in your chest you don’t have words for. And then—finally—he leans in.

he kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s allowed to do tonight.

It’s not perfect—he still carries the faint smell of rain, copper, and those cheap Crime Alley cigarettes—but there’s something achingly human in it. It’s warm, a little unsteady. He kisses like he’s holding on for dear life, like if he stays close enough, long enough, the storm won’t reach him. Like maybe you’re the calm he’s been chasing.

your hands find the edge of his hoodie. his hand finds your cheek. and then he pulls back an inch, breathless and stupidly soft-eyed.

“so,” he says. “that was your one.”

“mm,” you say. “might go over budget.”

he kisses you again. & again. &&& again, like he’s finally decided that being here—being loved—isn’t something he has to earn.

And later, much later, when the rain turns to mist and the cereal gets eaten dry out of the box, he falls asleep against your shoulder, mumbling something that might’ve been thank you, or I love you, or please don’t stop letting me in.

You absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair—it’s soft now that it’s dry, fluffier than you expected. He’s completely still, breathing slow and deep, totally out. He’s melted into your side, bit by bit, like your warmth pulled him in and he just… stayed. Like some part of him finally let go.

[yoursjaeyun]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬.

𝐩airing. bf!jay x fmr

𝐠enre. angst, fluff, suggestive ( tiniest bit ) | post-sex-argument kinda thing

𝐰arnings. not that many tbh… nicknames, lots of kissing, jay being clingy, lmk if i need to add more.

𝐰c. 1k+

𝐚/𝐧. yes i wrote another argument with jay drabble leave me alone pls . :)

you lie on your side, staring at the wall, the last remainders of anger still simmering in your chest. the sheets are tangled around your legs, sticky with sweat and other remnants of the night. you can feel jay's presence behind you, his warm body felt in sharp contrast to the lingering cold tension on your skin.

the argument keeps replaying in your mind like a stuck record. the raised voices and harsh words now seem pointless. your heart is knotted with frustration, and even though there's been a spark between you, your anger hasn't fully faded.

you hear jay shift behind you, the bed creaking under his weight. a moment later, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. his breath is warm against the nape of your neck, but instead of comforting you, it only fuels your frustration. how can he be so calm? so casual? after everything that was said.

“still mad?” his voice is soft.

you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. the last thing you want is for him to think that he can just brush everything under the rug with a few well-placed kisses and whispered apologies.

but jay has always had a knack for finding the cracks in your armor. his lips find the curve of your shoulder, trailing lazy kisses up your neck. you shiver despite yourself, your body betraying the anger still coiled in your chest.

“y/n,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a velvet caress that sends a shiver down your spine. “come on, baby, talk to me.”

you let out a sigh, your irritation slipping through in the sound. “i don’t want to talk to you right now.”

his lips pause in their journey up your neck, and you feel him pull back slightly. there’s a moment of silence, and you can practically feel the gears turning in his mind as he tries to figure out how to approach this. jay is many things—charming, witty, endlessly patient—but right now, you don’t want any of those things. you want him to understand how much he hurt you.

“i messed up. i shouldn’t have said those things. i’m sorry.” he says finally, his voice losing some of its playful edge.

you close your eyes, willing yourself not to cry. you’re still so angry, but there’s a part of you that hates feeling this way, hates the distance that’s grown between you two because of a stupid argument.

“you always do this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “you say things you don’t mean, and then you act like everything’s fine. its not.”

there’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he might just drop it, let the silence stretch out between you like a chasm neither of you are brave enough to cross. but then he sighs, and you feel his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer.

“y/n, i’m sorry. i was stupid, and i said things i didn’t mean. i don’t want to lose you over something so dumb.” you could tell he regretted it now, especially by the tone of his voice.

you want to stay mad, to hold on to the anger a little longer, but it’s hard when he’s being like this—when he’s holding you like he never wants to let go.

but instead of responding, you push his arms away and slip out of bed, the cool air hitting your bare skin as you stand. without a word, you grab the discarded shirt from the floor and pull it over your head, barely covering yourself as you make your way toward the bathroom. you can feel jay's eyes on you, but you don’t turn around. you’re still too angry, too raw.

you hear him sigh behind you, a soft sound filled with frustration and regret. a moment later, his footsteps follow you, and before you even think to close the bathroom door, his arms are around your waist again, pulling you back against him. his lips find your neck, pressing soft, apologetic kisses to your skin.

“y/n, please,” he whispers, his voice laced with guilt. “this is the last thing i’d ever want to happen between us—” “you made it happen. this is your mess.” you cut him off.

you take your hands off of the edge of the sink, looking up at him from the mirror, trying to focus on anything but the feel of his lips against your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. but it’s impossible to ignore the way your heart beats just a little faster when he’s this close.

“you can’t keep hurting me and then expect everything to be okay because you apologized,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not that simple.”

“i know it’s not. but i love you, and i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. just... don’t push me away.” he says, and there’s a tremor in his voice that makes your heart clench.

his words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and for a moment, you feel your anger slip away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. you don’t want to fight anymore. you just want to be held, to feel like everything will be okay.

you stay silent, allowing jay to cling to you as you both begin to clean yourselves up. his hands are gentle as he helps, and the quiet between you is soothing, a way to ease the tension without words.

jay doesn’t push you for conversation, his presence a steady comfort as he quietly assists. he’s patient. the room slowly returns to its normal state, and the silence between you starts to feel less oppressive, more like a shared space where both of you can catch your breath.

finally, as you finish up and the room is back in order, jay breaks the silence. “do you want some tea before bed?” he asks softly, a hint of hope in his voice. “it can help you sleep better.”

you nod, the gesture small but meaningful. “yeah, that would be nice.”

jay’s face brightens with relief, and he moves to prepare the tea. you watch from the edge of the kitchen, the familiarity of his actions a comforting reminder of the normalcy you both seek. he works efficiently, filling the kettle, selecting your favorite tea, and letting the water come to a boil.

when the tea is ready, he brings a steaming cup to you. you take the cup from him, the warmth of the ceramic soothing against your cold fingers. jay settles beside you, his gaze attentive as you sip the tea slowly, savoring the calm it brings.

the room is quiet, the only sounds being the gentle clinking of the cup and the soft hum of jay’s breathing. he watches you with an unreadable expression as you finish your tea.

as you place the empty cup down, you finally turn to him, your eyes meeting his with a gentle smile. he waits, his gaze steady, and you can see the vulnerability in his eyes.

leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, the touch tender—and jay’s arms instantly wrap around you, pulling you close as he returns the kiss, a sigh of relief escaping him.

the kiss deepens, his lips moving in unison against yours as his hands slide up under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle. your arms wrapping around his neck as you both lose yourselves in the kiss.

you break the kiss, both of you breathless and flushed, and a soft giggle escapes your lips. jay’s eyes sparkle with such affection, and he pulls you into a warm embrace, holding you close as you snuggle against him.

“you’re cute when you’re mad,” he murmurs, his voice light and teasing.

“shut up,” you laugh, your voice muffled against his chest as you hug him tighter.

jay chuckles, his hands stroking your back in a soothing rhythm, until there was a little silence again, as if he was trying to find the right words to say. “i’m sorry, y/n. i really am.”

you look up at his lips again and only nodded, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “its okay, but if it happens again. there will be consequences.” you raise your eyebrows

“yeah? what kind of consequences?” he teases and you roll your eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you’ll see,” you chuckle.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

YOURSJAEYUN est. 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[celestialtarot11]

Random observations <3

hey friends! just felt like doing something light & funny for ya’ll today 🩷🧘‍♀️ happy spring vibes. been loving the energy, nevermind the eclipse & full moon that nearly ended me :>

virgo moon women are so earthy and faerie like to me. they come across as put together and minimalistic but also appear light and whimsical in nature. they look great with florals, flowy dresses and lace. anything showing their shoulders, neck and hands they look beautiful in.

aries women have look out a lot for me ive noticed. they’re quick to offer their scarf if im cold, give me a hug if the wind is blowing, and if they truly appreciate your presence they’ll make it known they want you. they are also bold and dry with their words lmao.

pisces moon reminds me of a little rat curling up to eat cheese. love yall still

cancer venus has my heart wdym yall look after others and take care of them like they’re your own? you guys also need protection & love too. cancer venusians are so precious.

capricorn guys are mostly awkward and kinda stiff with it 😭 some of them are actually genuinely funny if they have aquarius. like a boyish energy.

1h synastry…is tiring. everything I do gets copied and triggered for that other person. anybody relate? i might do in depth post about this.

nothing like gemini bestie, and another sag bestie gossiping at 8am.

when aquarians are not empowered in their identity they copy others heavily…am i the only one that’s noticed this? i mean mannerisms, habits, speech, EVERYTHING.

i feel like aries women would love soca & Jamaican music

10h synastry in friendship can be difficult, that friend will try to assert themselves as morally better and higher than you. they’ll turn to self victimization to get you to feel sorry

august leo women are different from july leos. august leos have a quiet radiance (still powerful) and july leos get loud with it and i love both. i am a july leo. im her.

venus in aries women when disempowered have an odd way of infantilizing themselves especially around men to get their attention.

mars taurus women when jealous will watch your every move and act like they aren’t. they also feel a type of way if you can afford high end luxury.

lilith in gemini women also know how to appeal to others emotions easily & is manipulative if disempowered. if ur venus matches her Lilith theres a lot of jealousy and competition. the connection is often one sided.

sun in detriment/fall if those women are disempowered they’ll use anything you say to them & use it to their benefit. like gossiping, using anything you said about yourself for their benefit.

ive had an aquarius sun woman, lilith in gemini (my venus sign) and scorpio moon (in my 10h) copy my every move. every mannerism. its eerie yet im also entertained. she has a way of morally putting others down for her ego.

capricorn rising men can be short, i think its because saturn restricts and minimizes. but venus 1h saves them and adds a little sparkle sparkle to the gloom.

Aquarius paired with sag men…they have a dad persona i dont make the rules 😭 the short ones are even funnier with their lil watches and beards if they can grow one

lilith in gemini women when empowered are so funny and humorous and light up the room. love you, keep being you

virgo paired with leo women have such feline features, like thick brows, head full of hair (ends might be wispy) a lighter way of moving with grace. they’re ethereal but regal.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[lupinqs]

FOCUS ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: practice gets a little steamy…

☆ ━ word count: 3.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smut (p eating, fingering, kinda public sex but ig not really)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: okay so this is SUCHHH a scrap, i have not proofread it either, it’s just not great, i’m not very happy with it but i wanted to post something so here it is i hope you all like it more than i do LOL

YOU’RE in Maryland, visiting Paige’s family. You and her got here a little under a week ago following the first round of Geno’s summer sessions. It’s been a lazy few days so far, full of long mornings spent in bed, video games on the couch with Drew, and afternoons tanning in the summer sun. It’s been nice; a solid break that the both of you need before what Paige has dubbed her “world tour” of the summer. You’re tagging along for parts of it—though not all of it—and it’s safe to say you’re not excited for the amount of plane rides and jet lag you’re about to face.

However, you and Paige both decided that a week of sitting on your asses might do more harm than good, so you’ve gathered yourselves at the local high school gym, getting some hoops in.

A few buddies of Paige’s, as well as Drew, tagged along in the beginning, but as the hours grew longer, they began to fizzle out. Drew is the last to leave, heading to his actual basketball practice with his own team.

And then it’s just you and Paige.

The two of you could leave now; you’ve certainly been here practicing long enough. However, you can see the itch of a smirk in Paige’s face and you know what she’s going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

“1v1?” she asks, a playful challenge in her eyes.

You smirk, taking the challenge as you always seem to do. “Not too scared you’ll lose again?”

Paige rolls her eyes at the reminder of the two of you’s last one-on-one game. She waves a hand, saying dejectedly, “You cheated.”

“Nope, you’re just a sore loser.”

Paige just shakes her head, grinning. “I’m not a sore loser because I didn’t lose.”

You decide that you’re not entertaining this. You’re well aware that she will continue bickering with you about it until you give in, admitting that she’s right and you’re not. It’s always this way; she will literally go on for hours if you let her. But, nonetheless, you both know the truth—which is, you definitely beat her in that game.

And, when you begin the game, the way the first few minutes are going makes you believe you may win this one, too. You’re up a good few points—Paige has been slacking on defense and you’ve been picking up the pace on offense. When you get another bucket on her, you grin widely, calling to your girlfriend, “Gee, you a little rusty, P Boogers?” You add the nickname KK’s created, knowing how much it annoys her.

However, Paige doesn’t bother responding, instead abruptly ripping her white long-sleeve over her head and tossing it across the gym on the other side of the court. Your grin falters at that, eyes soaking up Paige’s body. Jesus. Already, you can feel your heart start to race (and it’s not from the basketball game). Paige is wearing a Nike black sports bra, and, with her shirt now shed, the silver chains are on full display along her chest. Her basketball shorts are also rolled down, so that her whole torso is practically exposed, abs included. You feel your mouth salivate at the sight of Paige’s skin glistens with sweat, the way her abs flex, the way her arms look (you seem to grow fonder and fonder of them every day, especially since Paige has been in the weight room more often).

A small smirk paints Paige’s face as she takes in your surprised expression. She just raises her eyebrows, saying with a shit-eating grin, “What? It’s hot in here.”

You roll your eyes at Paige’s obviousness, opting to resume the game rather than respond to her. She’s back on offense, you on defense. You defend as you always would, hands raised, feet tracking your opponent’s, eyes flitting between the ball in Paige’s hand and Paige’s face. However, as your eyes trail between the two, they can’t help but track Paige’s abs, the sweat shining on her porcelain skin, the way her chains go with her every movement. You swallow thickly, doing your absolute best to concentrate on the game instead of your extremely sexy girlfriend.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Paige teases, dribbling the ball slowly. The nickname makes your heart stutter. “You’re gonna lose if you keep staring.”

And then she powers forward, scoring a layup with no hesitation. She grins and cocks her head at your bad defense, tsking as she asks, “Where’d that focus of yours go, hmm?”

Your cheeks flush at her words, and you grab the basketball, doing your best to lock in. “Nowhere, I am focused,” you argue, trying to get past the blonde’s defense.

“Oh, sure,” Paige murmurs in your ear, now with her front pressed flush against your back as you dribble, attempting to find a hole. She catches the way your face turns, looking to get through, but instead your eyes once again catch the chains that have begun to stick to her skin due to the sweat. Her smirk only grows, and she adds slowly, mockingly, “You are focused. Just… not on the game, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you grunt against her, trying to get a shot in. She doesn’t let you, blocking it. You groan a little as her hands snake around the ball, effectively stealing it from you.

“I will once you tell me what you’re so focused on that has you distracted from the game. You were just doing so well, beating me for once,” she says, egging you on.

You scoff, snapping, “You know damn well what I’m focused on.”

“I wanna hear you say it, baby,” she taunts, blue eyes squinting with mischief.

You hold her gaze for a long second. You could give her what she wants, say that the only thing you’re really able to focus on right now is just how fucking sexy she looks and how much you’d love to rip her clothes off right here, right now and fuck her. But, of course, you don’t. You’re just as stubborn as Paige is, so you simply utter, “No.”

A look of annoyance—that satisfies you very much—flits across her face. She shrugs, saying, “Fine then.”

You continue the game, but things seem to only be looking worse for you. No matter how much you try to fight it, try to focus on the basketball and the basketball only, it’s like your eyes have a mind of their own, and they seem to stay locked on Paige’s body. And, of course, Paige takes every opportunity she can to flaunt it, knowing full well the effect it has on you. Her smirk never fades, especially as she gets closer and closer to winning.

However, it seems like Paige has finally had enough with the teasing. She drives to the basket, right past you (you let her; you’re done with this game), making a final layup. She then turns to you, catching sight of the way you stand there watching her, having not bothered to defend that final play. “Game over,” Paige announces. You can’t help but notice how her voice is lower, more huskier than usual. It means you’re probably going to get what you want.

You step closer, eyes darkening with pure want. You’ve given up pretending that you don’t. “You’re such a tease, Bueckers.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “Maybe you just needa learn to focus better.”

The air between you is charged, and before you can even respond, Paige has you pushed against the wall of the gym, her chest pressed against yours, her face so close her nose nearly touches your own. The sound of the both of your breathing fills the space, heavy and expectant.

Paige’s eyes lock onto yours, and—without an ounce of hesitation—she leans in, her lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. It’s almost instinctual at this point, the way your respond to it. Your hands find their way to Paige’s back, pulling her closer as the blonde’s tongue traces your lips slowly, seeking entry. You willingly part them, allowing Paige to explore your mouth passionately. She’s going fast, and if you weren’t so used to it, it might’ve been hard for you to keep up. Nevertheless, you do, albeit with a couple teeth clashes.

Paige’s hands slide from their spot on your hips up to cup your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own fingers trail from her back, tracing her sweaty skin, until they thread through Paige’s hair, effectively ruining the once slicked back bun (not that either of you care much).

Paige breaks away from your mouth, trailing a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. You can’t help but tilt your head back, granting the blonde better access to your neck. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the shallow pants escaping your mouth as Paige’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear.

And then you feel her teeth biting. It’s not enough to truly hurt, but it’s enough to elicit a whimper from you—a sound that Paige loves. She does it again, gets the same reaction, and then soothes the area with a flick of her tongue. Paige’s kisses trail down the expanse of your neck, surely leaving marks that you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. But you don’t have it in yourself to care much about that because each press of Paige’s lips, each gentle scrape of her teeth, each soothing lap of her tongue, sends shivers down your spine and heat through your core.

Your hands tighten in Paige’s hair as she reaches the hollow of your throat, sucking hard. You feel your hips involuntarily arch toward Paige, seeking more contact. The blonde smirks against your neck, pleased with your reaction. She moves lower, kissing along the line of your collarbone, hands sliding under your tank top to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

You feel your breath hitch as Paige grows more insistent, tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of sweat that permeates your skin. Her hands travel upward beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the underside of your breasts. Your eyes flutter open at that, remembering where you are.

“Paige, we really shouldn’t,” you say, but your voice shakes and your hands find their way to the blonde’s abs, tracing the defines muscles and betraying your words. “Anyone could walk in,” you add, attempting to keep yourself composed.

Paige’s lips capture yours in a fierce kiss, silencing your protests. Her hands are cupping your breasts through your sports bra now, and she manages to reassure you between kisses, “No one’s gonna walk in.”

And, just like that, your resolve seems to crumble. That always happens with Paige—it’s so easy with her, and, though, sometimes it does frustrate you, you usually don’t regret it. “Fuck, P,” you gasp, fingers digging into your girlfriend’s skin.

She grins against your lips, and her right hand slowly but surely trails its way from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. It slips beneath them and you feel yourself growing hotter—and wetter—with each passing second.

Paige’s fingers slowly begin to tease your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that make your knees go weak. It’s in stark contrast to her kisses, so fast-paced you can hardly breathe. Eventually, you manage to break the kiss, gasping raggedly, voice a mix of desperation and need, “Quit teasing.”

Paige’s smirk only seems to widen, and her pupils—which are blown so much that her blue eyes look nearly black—are full of lust. “Am I teasing?” she asks, fingers sliding through your slick folds.

You feel your heartbeat stutter and your core pulsing with utter need. “You know you are,” you mutter, glaring. She presses her thumb harder against your clit, though it’s not in the way you need it (and she knows it). “Quit it.”

“As you wish,” she murmurs, lips ghosting along your earlobe. Without hesitation, she dips two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion causing you to gasp loudly, arching against Paige’s touch.

“Shit,” you breathe out, hands gripping Paige’s sides for support. Your head leans back against the gym wall, and Paige resumes the kissing on your neck, marking it up even more. Her fingers continue inside you with a steady rhythm, each thrust drawing out sharp gasps from your lips.

“So wet for me, baby,” Paige says against your skin, biting your shoulder lightly as she curls her fingers. You outright moan at that, and she asks, “How long you been dripping like this, waitin’ for me?”

“All day,” you admit between whimpers, practically shaking against Paige. Her fingers go deeper, fucking up into you harder. “Paige, please,” you beg, eyes squeezing shut.

Paige’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Please what, baby?” she teases, fingers hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs feel like jelly.

“Fuck, your mouth,” you manage to gasp out between moans, body heating up with each passing second. “Please, P, I want your mouth.”

You watch as Paige’s eyes darken with hunger at your words, and you feel your heartbeat begin to quicken. “Whatever you want,” the blonde murmurs, voice filled with promise. She pulls her fingers out of you, savoring the way you practically whimper at the loss. Then, with deliberate slowness, she sinks to her knees before you, her hands sliding your shorts down with her.

Paige glances up at you, blue eyes full of a mischief and a smirk that you’ve had a habit of kissing off her face. You can’t help but think about just how fucking good Paige looks like this, cheeks rosy, lips kiss-swollen, sweat shining along every expanse of skin that’s exposed—which is a lot. Your eyes wander from her face to her chest and shoulders to her abs and back. And when your eyes meet hers again, the look in them… Jesus fuck. The sight is genuinely almost enough to make you come right then and there.

And you know that Paige knows the effect she has on you. You can tell in the way her smirk sits on her face, the way her eyebrows raise slightly, the way she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh—so close yet so far from where you really need her.

But she doesn’t tease for long, because when she finally reaches your core, she wastes no time, her tongue flicking out to taste you.

She starts with long, slow licks, gradually building the tension in you. Each stroke of her tongue makes you feel like you’re on Cloud 9 and about to have a stroke all at once. Your fingers tighten in her hair, hips arching toward Paige’s mouth, seeking more contact.

Paige understands—truthfully, she’s so familiar with your body at this point, that you can’t remember the last time she didn’t understand what you wanted—and she dips her tongue into your entrance. Her fingers trail from their grip on your hip to your clit, rubbing in firm, quickening circles. The dual sensation makes you cry out, your nails digging into the skin of your palm, your other hand tightening in Paige’s hair, pulling slightly. She lets out a satisfied hum against you at that, and the vibrations send a new wave of pleasure through you.

Paige knows exactly what you like, and she certainly uses that to her advantage. She curls her tongue inside you, seeking out that one spot that makes you see stars. The noises coming from your mouth begin to grow louder, your hips grinding against Paige’s face, still desperate for more.

“Fuck, Paige— God,” you moan, voice breaking. “I need… I need more.”

Surprisingly, Paige doesn’t make a comment about how needy you are, instead opting to do as you say. She pulls her tongue out, replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them deep inside your cunt. At the same time, she focuses her mouth back on your clit, sucking and licking so fervently you fear she might make you faint from her head game.

Paige can feel your legs trembling, the strain of standing becoming too much. Without breaking her rhythm, she throws one of your legs over her shoulder, giving herself more leverage, her tongue and fingers continuing their relentlessness. You can feel the pressure building within you, threatening to snap.

“God, you taste s’good,” Paige murmurs against your wet pussy. You catch the way your arousal is coating her chin and the sight of it—along with a deeper curl of her fingers—makes you moan loudly. “So sweet. ’Could do this all fuckin’ day, if you let me. ’Would make you come a million times over, baby.”

You cry out again, both at her words and the pace of her fingers curling and thrusting, the wetness of her mouth on you. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as you hover on the brink of release. Paige senses how close you are and doubles down, adding a third finger and sucking hard on your clit.

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the force of it. You moan out Paige’s name, your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that it has to hurt (though Paige doesn’t mind). She helps you ride out your high, her fingers and tongue working together to prolong your pleasure.

Finally, when your body goes limp and your breathing begins to slow, Paige pulls back, planting soft, soothing kisses along your inner thighs. She looks up at you, her lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied grin on her face.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige says, eyes trailing all along your body.

You can only nod, still too breathless to form a coherent response. Your heart swells as Paige stands, pulling you in for a kiss. Her tongue slips in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan against her lips, your hands wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. You stay like that for a moment—you savoring Paige, Paige savoring you—before finally breaking apart, both of you breathless and smiling.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs, planting a short peck on your lips. Then your nose. Then your forehead. “We should probably put your clothes back on, though, before someone does walk in on us.”

[alohajix]

꒰ masterlist ꒱

— a quiet collection of stories told in soft sighs, messy hearts, and lingering touches.

| “give me all of your love, give me something to dream about…”

stories spun from daydreams and midnight thoughts—organized below.

————————————————————————————————

Yep, I caved. Made a taglist. Wanna be spoiled with fresh filth (or fluff)? Say the magic words and I’ll add you like the VIP you are.

🔥= smut | ☁️ = fluff | 💔 = angst | 🎭 = drama

✧ SERIES

stories that stretch across time — unfolding slow like honey.

• When You’re Ready 🔥☁️💔🎭 (on hold)

“Healing isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it sounds like a little girl’s laughter, a quiet classroom, or a man learning to hope again.”

In the quiet town of Holmes Chapel, Amara—a gentle, nurturing kindergarten teacher—lives a life built on routine, safety, and quiet strength. She’s not looking for love, especially not after the scars left behind by someone she’d rather forget.

But when Harry Styles walks into her classroom carrying his three-year-old daughter and a heart still grieving the loss of the woman he loved, everything changes. Neither of them is ready. Neither of them is looking.

But sometimes, the people who change your life don’t knock first. They just… show up.

↳ Part One

↳ Part Two

↳ Part Three

✧ MINI–SERIES

a little more than just one chapter.

• No Strings… Right? 🔥☁️💔🎭 (ongoing)

It was supposed to be one night—just sex, no feelings, no consequences. But the second Harry touched me, I knew I was lying. He’s my brother’s best friend. Off-limits. Dangerous. But he fucks me like he owns me, whispers things I’m not supposed to hear, and looks at me like I’m already his.

We said no strings. But we’re tangled in every way that matters.

↳ Just This Once

↳ It’s Just Sex

↳ I Can’t Lose You

↳ "You're Fucking Harry?"

✧ ONE–SHOTS

single nights. stolen moments. stories that begin and end with a touch.

• Just Like That 🔥☁️ (Word: 4K)

When Emma meets Harry—a charming, British bartender—on a night out in New York City, their instant connection lingers long after the music fades. A few days later, one simple text turns into a date neither of them can forget. What starts with soft conversation and lingering looks quickly builds into something deeper, more electric… and maybe even real.

• First Time for Everything 🔥 (Word: 6.2K)

When Nora finds out her best friend Harry makes adult content, curiosity turns into something much more. One video leads to another, and soon they’re filming, posting, and falling into something hotter—and deeper—than either of them expected.

• Until I Break 🔥 (Word: 5.5K)

When Ember comes home from college, the last person she expects to fall for is her brother’s best friend. But one stolen kiss turns into something neither of them can walk away from.

• Room 1014 🔥(Word: 12K)

Freshly single and craving something reckless, Cassie meets a soft-spoken stranger in a hotel lobby. One look turns into one night—filthy words, slow touches, and a room she might never want to leave.

• The Casting Tape 🔥 (Word: 7K)

She said she wasn’t nervous. She said she'd never done this before. But then he walked in—and made her forget every lie she told herself.

↳ Off the Record 🔥🎭 (Word: 5K)

A few days after her first casting, she gets a message. No name. No warning. Just an invitation to watch the tape back—with him. But this time, there’s no crew. No red light. No director calling the shots. Just the two of them, a couch, and everything they left unsaid.

• Late Shift Lust 🔥(Word: 6K)

Working the late shift at a nearly empty diner isn’t glamorous—but it pays the bills. Savannah’s used to the quiet, the tired regulars, and the occasional flirt. But when a tattooed stranger with a slow smile walks in after midnight, the tension builds fast and burns hot. One cup of bitter coffee turns into a filthy, unforgettable encounter behind the counter.

• You Were Made for Me 🔥💔🎭 (Word: 6K)

He took me. Locked me away in a beautiful room and said I was his. Not because I asked. But because he swears I was made for him. And the worst part? I think he’s right.

• Room With a View 🔥(Word: 11K)

A luxury hotel. A secret club. A glass wall and one-way invitation. I came to watch—until he looked right at me and walked into my room without asking. Now my hands are tied, my body’s on display, and he’s fucking me like everyone’s watching—because they are.

• The Interview 🔥(Word: 2.3K)

A late-night interview with Harry Styles turns into a game of control, filthy whispers, and desk-fucking in a locked studio where the mics are off—but the heat’s just getting started. (Words: 2.3K)

• Private Lessons 🔥(Word: 7K)

When I show up at his door with a college essay and a short skirt, I tell myself it’s just for feedback. But Mr. Styles isn’t my teacher anymore—and the moment his hands find my skin, it’s clear we’re both done pretending.

↳ Private Lessons [2] 🔥☁️ (Word: 8.9K)

Four days after their first night together, she shows up on Harry’s doorstep again—no excuse, no plan, just the memory of what he said and the weight of everything she’s still craving. But this time, he doesn’t hold back. He pushes her to the edge—ties her wrists, makes her beg, and shows her exactly what it means to be wanted too much.

• All Night Celebration 🔥 (Word: 2.2K)

You meet Calum Hood for the first time at the 5SOS5 afterparty. You weren’t expecting his attention. You weren’t expecting Harry to offer you up. And you definitely weren’t expecting both of them to ruin you upstairs before the night is over.

✧ requests

written just for you — born from curious minds and quiet whispers.

• Say My Name 🔥(Word: 8K)

Based on this request. You’re new on the tour’s sound crew—professional, focused, and definitely not interested in falling for Harry Styles. But Harry? He takes one look at you and decides you’re his new favorite game. He calls you “new girl,” taunts you during sound check, and won’t learn your name… until you snap. And when the tension finally breaks? It’s filthy, rough, and everything you didn’t know you needed. Turns out, Harry’s mouth isn’t just good at running—it’s good at ruining you, too.

• Shhh… They’ll Hear Us 🔥(Word: 4.4K)

Based on this request. I wasn’t supposed to be here again. He wasn’t supposed to notice. But when Harry pulls me onto his tour bus after the show, things get filthy fast—and staying quiet is the one thing he can’t do.

• Sir, Yes Ma'am 🔥(Word: 5K)

Based on this request. He’s my bodyguard—tall, strong, and always in control. Until the door closes behind us. Then he kneels. He begs. And he takes everything I give him. He lives to be used, to be praised, to be ruined—just for me. And tonight, I don’t plan on going easy.

• The Note ☁️ (Word: 4.5K)

Based on this request. You used to write “Mrs. Y/N Styles” in pink gel pen, convinced you’d marry your celebrity crush one day. It was harmless, teenage daydreaming—until it wasn’t. Years later, standing across from Harry Styles on your wedding day, you find out he’s known about that childhood fantasy all along. And somehow, he saved a piece of it for this moment.

(requests: open — feel free to drop something in my ask box)

————————————————————————————————

“so glad you’re here. hope you find something you love.” 💕

[oc-ology]

How to OC post without being an artist (or spending money)!

As much as I yelled about OC-posting, some people said that they struggled to know what exactly they should be posting. Obviously the answer is whatever you feel like but if you’re already aimless, that answer isn’t very helpful. Additionally, not everyone knows how to draw (which I think is an obvious method of OC-posting) so I wanted to give some ideas for what people could post for their OC! This will be split up into different sections.

Creating visual representations of your OC

Disclaimer: I will not suggest nor support the usage of generative AI. OCs are about creating something yourself, not allowing a computer to do it for you.

Outside of commissioning someone else for art, it can be disappointing and frustrating to not have any visual representation for your character. An easy way to get a representation of your character is to use Picrew, Meiker and other similar sites. There’s a large number of art styles, types of fashion, species, that can all be used to make your OC and that amount only grows by the day. Many of these websites can be accessed on PC and mobile and take very little processing power.

However, this can be limiting at times since you might not find exactly what you’re looking for, especially if your OC has a unique combination of features. For something with more customisation, you can use video games with character creation to make a version of your character. I personally would recommend games like The Sims or Skyrim as both have very active modding communities. This way, if a certain type of clothing or facial feature isn’t present in the base game then you can often find someone who has created a mod that adds it in instead. This does require you to have access to a computer that can run not only the game but the mods as well.

Another option would be using a program like Vroid Studio to make your character from a base model. This has both a mobile and PC version, although I will primarily be speaking from a PC perspective. The mobile app, while able to create a character from scratch, is a lot more limited than the PC version. The great thing about Vroid is that there’s a lot of user-made content that you can often get for free through websites like Booth, as well as many tutorials for beginners to follow along with. Again, this requires a computer that is able to run it. I would recommend against using Vroid on a laptop as it will likely be too intensive for it.

My final suggestion for character visuals is to take a character from anime or cartoons and simply edit them. This was actually how I first got into making original characters! You can recolour their hair or outfits with an editing program (with some free examples being FireAlpaca, Krita or GIMP) and even edit different images together to create something more unique. Please only do this with characters from existing media and avoid using fanart for this.

Other OC visuals

Other than just what your OC looks like, there are other ways to visually put together your OC. Moodboards are the most obvious example of this, but you can also edit other things such as putting together outfits for them or finding pictures of items they would keep in their bag.

If you have multiple OCs, you can create fake text conversations between them using a number of websites. These can be as silly or as serious as you like!

Finally, you can always build them a pinterest board. I am a massive pinterest enjoyer and not only can you use pins that others have posted to pinterest, you can add your own from off the site. 

Writing

Beyond writing out your characters’ story, there are numerous other things you can write. Keeping in line with what you’ve already written, you can re-write scenes from alternative perspectives. These can add context to what is seen in the main story, as well as flesh out background or side characters and their relationship to your other OCs.

Another fun thing to write is non-canon scenes. Write a beach episode! Write about a character getting sick and someone else having to take care of them! There are countless ways to draw your OCs interacting with their world or other characters that wouldn’t necessarily ever fit into the “main” story.

Next is genre changes. If you had to categorise the genre of your OCs’ current story, what would it be? Now image what if the genre was something completely different? Romance to mystery… Slice of life to horror… Part of the challenge is figuring out what story beats remain the same and what gets changed, including character dynamics! And of course… Alternate Universes. There are too many types of AUs to list but some of my favourites are superpowers, mafia, zombies, time loops and time-travel-fix-its. These are similar to genre-changes but often include a number of AU specific tropes. If you’re struggling to figure out the staples of a certain AU or what kind of AUs exist, there’s a really good page about alternate universes on Fanlore.org!

Other ideas

These are ideas that didn’t quite fit into the other categories.

First is music playlists! There are two types of these. The first is a playlist of songs that describe a character and their story while the second is a playlist of songs that the character would listen to. Some people like to combine the two as well! There are no rules to this, simply have fun listening to music and picking out songs that remind you of your OCs.

Second is incorrect quotes. I remember these used to be beloved by fandom and now they can be beloved by you and your OCs! The concept of incorrect quotes is that well-known and funny quotes from pop culture (such as memes or movies) get written out and your characters are assigned a line of dialogue. While there’s a website that’ll generate these incorrect quotes for you, I personally find more fun in coming across quotes organically while scrolling social media and realising that they fit my OCs almost perfectly.

Finally, ask games. These typically take the form of lists of questions or prompts with emojis or numbers next to them. People can send in the relevant emoji or number and you then answer the corresponding prompt. There used to be a kind of “ask game etiquette” where if you reblogged an ask game from someone, you sent an ask from the list to them as well. This way, it allows the game to continue circulating and you can spread the joy of OC-posting with others! It can also lead you to making friends within the community.

And that’s it for my post! If you have other suggestions for kinds of OC-posting then I would love to see them!

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

[lustlovehart]

Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.

Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.

Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.

Sickness Kills, Sickness no more

Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞

CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)

Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige

Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?

Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.

Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.

Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.

It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.

Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.

When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.

Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.

If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.

Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.

When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.

Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.

Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.

When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.

The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.

Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.

The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.

When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.

This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.

Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…

Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.

Right… Cold blooded…

Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.

When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.

Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.

“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.

“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.

A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.

All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.

“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.

Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet—!

And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?

He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—

“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”

Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.

“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.

But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.

Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.

Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’

Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.

Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.

Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.

“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.

Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”

In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.

Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.

And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.

Sages Quarter

- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.

“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.

You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.

For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.

“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.

“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.

“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.

- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.

… How is he supposed to help you?!?

He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!

“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.

“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.

He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.

- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.

“Fellow…? What are you…?”

“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.

With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.

“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”

A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?

You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?

The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.

- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.

It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.

When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.

But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.

Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.

“Neige…—”

“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.

The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!

“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.

… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.

A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)

[venmondiese]

KEEPING NEW YEAR'S TRADITIONS

PART TWO OF A NEW YEAR'S TRADITION

-ˋˏ| summary: As a new year comes by, you make sure your tradition of eating grapes keeps going. And Aemond's tradition as well.

✧ | Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader

✧ | word count: 3.8k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, pregnant sex, Aemond is obsessed with his wife.

✧ | notes: happy new year!! this comes as an unexpected part 2 (?) i know it's late but atp, i always post everything late ;(

Aemond was in a bad mood. He liked holidays, when he had the chance to be alone with you. And on this occasion, he was ‘forced’ to spend it with his family.  

New Year last year was something he enjoyed very much. He was alone with you, Vhagar and the fireworks that the Blackwater bay throwed every year. You went to bed fairly early and of course… your little traditions.

You’d eat grapes, he’d fuck you. To him, it was an amazing tradition. All over the year he was teasing you about it, how this year he’ll try another position, how he’ll rent a private yet to see the fireworks firsthand, how he’ll do so many things for…

Nothing.

Nothing, because he was stuck with his family. And that pissed him off. 

‘It might be the last year we spend the New Year with your father, you know how delicate his health is…’ his mother and his half sister would say over the phone, and he would roll his eye. Still, you were softer, kinder and more open to the idea. 

“We should go” You said one time, as he had come home late from his work and you served him tea and some leftovers of the lunch you prepared for yourself. 

“I see they contacted you…” he murmurs, drinking his tea. “I think that us spending the New Year here is perfect as it was…” 

“I know that it isn’t your favourite thing to spend Christmas with your family, but everyone is going to your father’s home. Your mother and her husband, your siblings… even Aegon” You add with a raise of eyebrows “And your half-sister too”

“You are just listing reasons not to go” 

“If it is your dad’s last year, I think we should go, Aemond…” you say, looking at him with those wide eyes of yours, you walk closer to him, standing by his side as you press a hand on his shoulder “He is really excited about the baby…” 

His eyes go to your pregnant belly, as he sighs, one of his hands going to rub his forehead, thinking about it. “All we will do is fight, you know” he mutters. “That’s all this damned family can do nowadays”

He presses his forehead on your belly, sighing slightly as he feels your hand moving to caress the back of his head. Aemond likes to speak with your belly, or resting close to it, or anything that has to do with the baby. You were all day, every day with the baby, but he wasn’t, so he tried to do everything he could to help and feel the baby before the arrival. 

“Fine” he murmurs, begrudgingly. “But we’ll leave early… and, and don’t fall for their excuses…” 

After all, he was a weak man for you. More so when you carried his baby, anything you desired for, he tried to make it happen. As crazy as your cravings were, he cooked them all. When you complained about the clock, he had to take it to Aegon’s apartment for the meantime.  When your body ached, he massaged it. And if you wanted to be with his father’s family for the New Year… he could manage, if you were with him.

That’s how he finds himself now. Sitting at the end of the large feast table of his father’s house, hearing his cough and the small talk the rest of his family did to each other. He was leaning back, one leg atop of the other as his arm rested on your chair by his side. You didn’t turn down good food such as this, and ate happily all of it.

“A toast” His father says, as he takes his glass.

As his father talked and talked, Aemond looked at you, holding your orange juice. He saw his glass, also with orange juice, in some kind of sympathy for your inability to drink. He wasn’t the greatest fan of drinking, sure, he would often drink whiskey, maybe some fancy wine from the reach, but never to the level of drunkenness (unlike Aegon) 

He caressed your back gently, eating his food little by little. 22:50. Seven gods, this would be eternal. He wanted to go home already, he chatted with his mum, with his father, and even exchanged a dry ‘hello and happy new year’ to his half-sister. It was enough. He ignored his nephews and chatted with you, and his siblings. 

He rubs his forehead as he hears Aegon talk about how it is a shame not to be able to drink, and whatever Aegon talked about, Aemond never listened long enough to know. 

“Well, I have developed a craving for orange juice” You say to Aegon. “Next to the apartment there is an old house, and it has a lemon tree, an apple tree and an orange tree. The old lady that lives there is lovely, and she always gives me natural fruit, more so since she saw my belly, she used to deliver all the babies in the street back in her age, so she always looks after me…. Doesn’t she, my love?”

Another thing he realised was that you were so chatty when pregnant. You tease him like hell, and talk about every little adventure of the day. Vhagar fell into the pool in her cat walking time, the food you made was extra delicious, you talked to the people of the store, anything. He didn’t complain, he was used to getting home and serving dinner as you chatted about your day.

“Yes, love. She does” he agrees eating his plate. 

“Not as good as you do…” you say in a teasing tone, and he has a slight smirk.

“Aye, true…” He says proud, kissing your cheek.

“Cheesy” Aegon says making a face, but he was slightly amused. 

“Shut up” Aemond mutters to him. 

Even if his family tries to stretch the dinner as long as possible until midnight, his father was already dozing up, probably due to his high doses of medication he had to take every day, and left him sleeping like a log. 

He gets annoyed since his mother is the one tending to him, even when she was his ex wife for at least one year now. It is ridiculous, and it bothers him for no reason at all. 

Sometimes he’d visit his father, with you always. You’ll go with a sweet treat and chat for a bit, and then you’ll go. He was content with that much, his father had good conversations when he was lucid and out of medication.

“Did you bring the grapes?” He asks softly, looking at you. You raise an eyebrow, amused as he remembers that, and he rolls his eye playfully. “We do have traditions”

“I did” you assure him, a playful smirk on your lips as well. “Grapes, not a condom” you add playfully.

“Luckily for us, you are already knocked up” he whispers, kissing your cheek. 

“Uncle Aemond” the little tug on his arm, let him know it was Maelor, trying to gain his attention, which meant he wanted to be holded on his arms. 

He spent half an hour entertaining his nephews, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys were making a play with their dolls for him to see, and you were so happy to entertain them that he kept making stories to impress both of you. Maelor was quick to fall asleep on Aemond’s arms, and by 23:40 the kids were already whiny and sleepy. 

You used to chat with Helaena about maternity tips, things she would have liked to know when she was a first time mother, and that you took note of it carefully. 

He is happy with his resolutions from last year. He proposed, and you were pregnant. It was bad timing of course, since you refused to have a wedding in your third trimester, so you waited. If it was for him, eloping was good enough, and he’ll have a great honeymoon with you. 

“Did your… wishes from last year were granted by your magical grapes?” Aemond asks as Helaena takes Maelor to cradle him in her arms. 

“Not like I intended, and certainly not all of ‘em, but the most important ones I’d say… yes” You say softly. “I wanted a new cat” you say playfully, and he roll his eye. 

“Isn’t Vhagar enough?”

“I think some cute fluffy company would make her less… grumpy” 

“A baby would be enough” Aemond says with a nod as he sees the time. 23:53. 

“A human baby is not the same as a baby kitten” You state with a nod. 

“We are not taking care of two babies at once, my love” he shakes his head. 

“I’ll eat two grapes for the baby cat then” you say stubbornly, moving to grab the bowl with the twelve grapes. 

His mother sits curiously by your side, and she looks at the grapes. 

“Oh, you eat grapes for the new year?”

“Yes, ma’am.” you say with a kind smile. 

“I see… it is really against the Gods…”

“Mum” Aemond says in a stern tone, not wanting her usual lecture. 

“It’s fine” You say, trying to calm everyone. 

“I am merely saying that it is superstitious” Alicent says, not taking an aggressive tone as she holds your hand. “Not trying to be mean”

“I know how…” Aemond starts saying, but you cut him, placing a hand on his thigh.

“It’s fine. I don’t take it that seriously anyways” You say.

“You have done it for three years” He reminds you, as he knew you did everything to please his mother, since she was a bit adamant about having kids out of wedlock. As if they were living in ancient times, he sighs and rolls his eye. “Can’t we speak of something more… cheerful?” 

You had no issues with being cheerful, talking about the baby, which delighted his mother as well. 

“Luke, Jace!” Rhaenyra calls for her eldest, as the clock strikes 23:58. Aemond also stands up and helps you do so, as his stepfather calls for his mother and everyone gathers around their little family. 

“You have to give me a kiss before swallowing those grapes” he says petulantly, his hand moving to hold your hip. 

“Fine” you say, rolling your eyes amused. 

He was still slightly annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t repeat the same shenanigans of last year, his new and very own ‘tradition’ with you. You teased him endlessly, but at the end gave him a consolation prize; you could leave early to the apartment and have all the sex he’d like there. 

“One last kiss before the year ends” Aemond says smugly, waiting for his kiss. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in superstitions–” 

“We have gone through this, give me the kiss”

You comply with his request for a last kiss, nothing too passionate and inappropriate as he would like, but it is one full of tenderness. He grew more tender and careful with you these last months, as your belly grew more and more. You often groaned and complained about how unnecessarily careful he was, but he still did it. 

“I love you” he murmurs against your lips.

“I do too” you answer him “And next year, we’ll be a family of three”

He nods, and then he smirks “Of four, with Vhagar.”

You were always quick with your comebacks “Five if you count the baby kitten”

“You are unbelie–”

He was cut with the greetings of ‘happy new year’, and he leans to steal a kiss from you, which has you giggling between the kisses. 

He has gotten into the swing of eating grapes by each second, even if they were a bit sour to his taste. He daren’t to ask when you had bought them, because they tasted a bit weird. Still, you ate the grapes in time and smiled proudly when finished. 

“Fourth year in a row” you say proudly, and lean to kiss him on the cheek as he swallows the remains of the grape.

“And happy New Year to you too”

You greeted his family by a kiss on the cheek, and a hug. He was less enthusiastic, but followed you around as if he was forced to do so. 

“Mum, the fireworks are starting soon?” Little Viserys asked Rhaenyra, to which she nodded. “Can we go?”

Aemond made sure to bring a chair along with him, and he placed it on the yard to make sure you were comfortable. He brings a fluffy blanket and something to drink if you need so. You roll your eyes as you walk to him, your hand on your belly. 

“Don’t you think it is too much…?” You murmur to him, yet you still sit there.

“Hey, this is the bare minimum. It’s freezing cold in here” he says looking around to where his family was forming. 

He goes to help his father walk, along with Jacaerys. Aemond doesn’t talk about it, as he simply quietly helps his father to sit in one of the other seats to see the fireworks.

You see his mother talk to him, telling something that Aemond doesn’t answer. He comes back to you after a while. To your questioning face, he murmurs.

“Wanted me to be nicer to him” he murmurs in your ear. 

“Asking for the impossible” you playfully say, to which he rolls his eyes. 

The fireworks are absolutely pretty. You always liked to see them explode in the sky. You wondered how Vhagar was doing; thankfully these were soundless with the explosion, so you imagine Vhagar must be sleeping in the baby’s crib as if she was the newborn. 

Aemond drinks his orange juice as if he was swallowing whisky, and you could see his grumpiness. You held his hand, pressing little kisses as he smiled faintly.

You understood him, even if he didn’t tell you a word about his true feelings. And thankfully, he understands you too.

The fireworks were nice, yet after ten minutes it grew boring. You stood up and held a hand to your belly.

“My belly aches” you say to Aemond, which has him in a hurry. 

“What? What?” He asks, a bit stressed. “Is the—”

“No, it is just a tummy ache” you stop him. 

“It was the grapes,” he says, realizing it. “They were sour and…”

“I’ll just go to bed” you say to him, and your mother in law walks to you. 

“I could make you tea, darling; the fireworks aren’t over and…” 

“I’m fine. I’ll go lay down” you say not wanting to worry anyone “In Aemond’s old room…” you say with a smirk to him.

“Ah, yes, my sanctuary” he says, rolling his eye, but holding your arm to help you walk. He was paler and worried, but your chuckle soothed him.

As he helped you upstairs, you can still hear the sounds of fireworks, as you enter his room. It was obviously cleaned so it could be used tonight, but it still looks rather empty.

“You don’t want to throw up, do you?” He asks to help you sit.

“No.” you say calmly. “I don’t feel that bad, come on. Sit” you say instead.

“What are you–” he says, not understanding, sitting by your side. 

“Oh. Come on. Your tradition?” You ask with a smile. 

He raises his eyebrows as he blinks a bit unsure what this all means.

“Would you please lay back?” You ask sweetly, helping him to lay with a pillow on his head. 

“Unbelievable” he murmurs amused, his lips curling into a smirk. “And what will you do to me, eh?”

“I believe we promised some riding” you say moving your hair to the side as you smile, your hands going to his trousers to unzip them and pulling his cock, that was hardening with interest to your every word. 

His hand caresses your shoulder and then falls to your arm, cherishing your skin as he looks at you lying. “You are dirty” he accuses

“And you love it” you defend yourself sticking your tongue out to him. 

The way your dress clings to your body, accentuating the swell of your belly, ignites a hunger within him. He picked this one too, it was large and of colour cream. It was a simple, flexible fabric and you grew to love the clothes that could stretch. 

You lean to kiss him, and he makes sure to prove himself to be tender with you. He holds the small of your back as he kisses you softly.

“You are perfect” he murmurs, smiling. “How did you know I wanted–?”

“I know you like the palm of my hand” you say, caressing his cock up and down, as you talk gently to him “and I know when you are pissed. We can’t have you exploding with your family, can we?” You ask smiling “I need to keep my man in line”

Aemond chuckles, as you pull your dress up and kick your flat shoes away. 

“Ah, and you will do so by… riding me?” He is amused, and really, really, really interested. “Might as well spend all my days grumpy” he says smirking as you move your legs to straddle him carefully. Your huge belly was an obstacle after all. 

“Just shush. This year is my turn” 

He is painfully hard, as he lies back, enjoying the sight and he has that smirk that nothing will wipe it off. For a moment, he prays that no one in his family comes in to check on them. He doesn’t find the strength to stand up and lock the door, not when you are on his lap with your happy smile. 

Aemond moves his hand to caress your naked thighs, and he has a happy smile. 

“I told you, I like this new tradition” 

“Well, it is a tradition. It must be done” you say as if you were resigned to that fate. 

“Who are we to question that?” He asks, smiling. 

As you move slightly to pull off your panties, he sees the small reflection of the fireworks on the wall. 

“I thought that had finished” you say softly. 

“The neighbours throw their own for at least half an hour.” Aemond says with a lightened mood, since he would have rolled his eyes before.

You two kiss for some more, as he holds you still. Lately, since you weren’t exactly flexible as before, you did less exotic and risqué sexual positions and more casual ones. And Aemond spent hours and hours with his lips pressed against yours, kissing you, and murmuring sweet nothings.  

As you try your best to lower yourself onto his cock, he is patient. He is horny as hell, but he lets you take your time. 

“To be clear we are never fucking in your family’s houses anymore” you say and he has to let a little laugh out. 

“Alright” he says. 

You lower yourself in his cock, not minding a rubber since you didn’t need one, a fact that he loves. He hisses slightly in pleasure, his hands going to grip your hips as he tries his best not to moan loudly. 

“Fuck, my love, you always feel great” Aemond growls, as you move your hips forwards and back, grinding on his cock naturally. The sensation is exquisite, and he thinks he is going insane. 

You ride him at your rhythm, he could (and definitely) wants to buck his hips in synchronizing your small jumps on his cock, which feels like a delicious grip that he never tires of. The obscene sound of skin slapping against the skin is faint, but not less obscene. 

He hated to be intimate in other houses, much when other people were around. Growing around Aegon made it impossible for him to find any attractiveness to it, and much more, he finds it a lack of respect. But tonight he was indulging into something he always criticized about Aegon, and he obviously plans to put the fault on you. 

“Mhm, I love it” you murmur as you grind your hips against him, making sure to get that delicious feeling of his cock.

He grips on your thighs, wanting to pull you closer and have some hold as he tries to move his hips to the rhythm. He always loves how your hips wiggles as you take his cock, when you still adjust to his size as you take it. 

He never thought he’d love your pregnant body that much, seeing your stomach full with the baby. He doesn’t even think he wants to see your stomach empty from now on.

He hears your little moans, trying to hold yourself and your sounds. He wishes you had stayed home, in your apartment and in your bed, being as loud as you wanted. He hated to see you reprieve yourself. 

“You look so beautiful” he praises you, he couldn’t even reprieve his own thrust ups, as his hips insistently. 

“A-Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck” you mutter, the word rolling from your lips naturally. You had banned any bad words in the house, for the baby. Not even damn. Nothing. But now you were chanting a big one as you jumped on his cock.

He grunts, his hips bucking up as he leans his head back. Thankfully his bed doesn’t creak, because someone could walk in and he would be caught left handed.

“You feel exquisite, sweet thing” he mutters, biting his lip. 

He would love to sit up, kiss your clavicle and kiss your breasts. But your belly was in between them, but he won’t complain. 

Your little whimpers, as hurried as you two were, helped him in his pleasure. He needed to come so bad, and he wants you to come first as his fingers go to rub your clit, making you moan loud as he feels your walls clench around his cock. 

As you cum, he groans back, trying not to be loud as he mutters curses, his eyes rolling back as he leans back on the bed, his head falling on the mattress as he fills you up. 

You lay on his side, opening his window slightly and accommodating your clothes. You pant, looking at the ceiling with worn out stickers of stars giving dim shining in the dark from his childhood. It is quite cute.

“Pregnant or not, you are still insatiable” he mutters somewhat amused, getting himself together to go down and pretend everything is well. His mother probably would be worried and come to care for you once his father goes to bed, if she only knew there was no ache at all. 

“Next year we’ll do some casual missionary, I swear” you say playfully. 

“If the baby lets us sleep” he jokes, smirking to you, nuzzling your neck and pressing a kiss on your cheek.

You smile at the prospect of next year, having your baby in your and Aemond by your side. And hopefully, a second kitten.