#It was the morning so there was dew on the ground

[lunawolfiefoxy]

I have a scar of the back of my head and under my right eye

scars in fiction: I got this trying to save my lover from an assassin- but tragically, I was too late. now I carry the mark of my failure with me always, and I can never forget~

scars in real life: so I was trying to open macaroni sauce with a paring knife

[hellishjoel]

wild like the west

3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader

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summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!

It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 

Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 

Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.

He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 

Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 

You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 

“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.

You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 

“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 

“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 

“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 

His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”

A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 

“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.

“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 

The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 

The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 

“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 

“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 

“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 

All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”

Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 

The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 

Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 

“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”

Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 

The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 

“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 

He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 

So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 

“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”

Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 

“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 

“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”

Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 

He settles on the truth. 

“We are sleepin’ together.” 

Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 

Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”

You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 

Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.

But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 

Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 

The ranch was his dream.

He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 

Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 

Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  

Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 

But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 

Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 

The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 

He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 

“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 

“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 

He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 

You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 

Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 

“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 

“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 

“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 

Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 

“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 

You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.

You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 

The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 

“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 

Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 

“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 

Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 

“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 

Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 

What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?

Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 

Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.

“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 

“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 

 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”

And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 

And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 

Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 

“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.

Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 

Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 

“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 

The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 

“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 

“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 

Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.

“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 

Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 

“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 

“G’night, pain in my ass.” 

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[cxrrodedcoffin]

Sweet Temptation - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer’s a pervert and so are you (a.k.a Spencer doesn’t know how to control himself when the team goes camping)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This isn’t that accurate to canon but I don’t really care, I just love the concept of pervert!spencer and wanted to write something filthy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i wrote half of this half asleep so give me a little grace pls, not proofread cuz i never do oops

TW: pervert!spencer, bau!reader, panty stealing, dubcon, public sex, outdoor sex, oral sex (reader receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cum eating, softdom!spencer, afab + fem reader

Rating: R, 18+

——

When one of the higher ups suggested the BAU team go on a wilderness retreat, you figured it’d be at some cushy wellness resort with cheesy team-building exercises and sleeping in cabins, not a campsite in the middle of the woods, with only a flimsy tent floor separating you from the hard ground.

You didn’t want to be here, truthfully you felt that the team was a little too close to each other at times, and there certainly wasn’t any bonding you could do out here that couldn’t have been done back at the office. You were cold, the rocky dirt beneath you was hurting your back, and you could not get to sleep for longer than twenty minutes at a time no matter how many times you tossed and turned into different positions.

You had enough, and decided to try your luck at a walk to wake yourself up until the rest of the team was up. You unzipped your tent, careful to be quiet to not wake anyone, and stepped out into the fresh morning air. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon, and the hazy orange hue was almost enough to make you understand why you were on this stupid trip to begin with.

You began your trek down the trail, the sound of birds chirping and the light layer of dew coating the underbrush making you feel momentarily like you were in a fairytale. Maybe a return to nature wasn’t such a bad thing. You came upon a small clearing, just through a slightly overgrown offshoot of the trail, and decided to take a closer look at the wildflowers growing there. There was a small overgrown picnic table in the center, the perfect place for you to sit and take in the beauty of nature.

You sat there for what felt like hours, your eyes fluttering shut as you slumped down against the table, finally getting some much-needed sleep in your blissful surroundings. The abrupt ‘snap’ of a twig startled you awake, and you almost fell back off of the withered bench. You looked around through hazy eyes, watching as a tall figure approached you. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light of mid-morning, seeing that the figure was none other than Spencer Reid.

“How long have I been out?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Not long, the rest of the team just left on the hike, I volunteered to stay back and wait for you.” He explained, pushing his hair out of his face. You weren’t sure how honest he was being, the telltale nervous lick of his lips telling you that at least part of what he was saying was a stretch of the truth.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You jokingly accused, playfully pushing his shoulder. His face turned bright red, and for a second you thought you might’ve been right. He said nothing, shaking his head before turning around and walking quickly away from you. A flash of pink fabric caught your attention, just a sliver sticking out of the back pocket of his shorts.

“What’s this?” You ran up behind him, snatching the fabric out of his back pocket. You stopped in your tracks, mouth hung slightly open in shock when you realized what you held in your hand. It was the pair of dirty panties you had changed out of before bed last night, the pair that you had sworn you put in your laundry bag.

“What the fuck, Spencer?” You raised your voice, holding the pair up so he knew you’d caught him.

“I-I can explain!” He frantically tried to reason, taking a step back from you.

“Oh really? Explain to me why you pulled a pair of my dirty underwear out of my laundry bag while I was sleeping, I would seriously love to know what rational explanation there is for that.” Your heavy sarcasm was almost too exaggerated to take seriously, and to your detriment it had blood rushing to Spencer’s cock. He attempted to stutter something out, but it was all jumbled nonsense.

“I don’t need an explanation Spencer, you’re a pervert, plain and simple.” You scoffed, backing slowly away from him.

“You always walk around in those short skirts, how else am I supposed to react?” He attempted to defend himself, starting to gain a small bit of confidence as he took steps to close the gap between the two of you.

“That’s awfully misogynistic Spencer.” You retorted, the initial shock of the situation starting to wear off.

“Every time you bend over in those skirts I get an eye full of your underwear, and you know what? I think you’re doing it on purpose.” His accusation wasn’t entirely incorrect, you had noticed him staring at your ass the first couple times you wore a shorter skirt to work and thought it’d be fun to embarrass him a little. You never thought he’d resort to this, though.

“That’s bullshit.” You laughed, taking another step back until your back hit a tree, stopping you in your tracks.

“Really? Then why did you bend over right in front of me in those shorts last night?” He pressed his hand against the tree about your head, leaning over you. He may still be the slightly awkward, nerdy Spencer you knew before he did time, but prison surely did bring out an incredibly intimidating side of him. Now you were the one with nothing coherent to say, simply swallowing your pride as you looked up at him.

“I think you want me just as badly as I want you.” He breathed, his free hand meeting your waist. He leaned down, lips brushing yours until you raised yourself onto your toes to close the kiss, wanting to swallow him whole. The kiss was intense but short-lived as Spencer pulled away, his hand on your waist turning you so you were facing the tree. He dropped to his knees behind you, hands gripping the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down, exposing your bare cunt. Your slick was already starting to drip down your thigh, the thought of getting caught fucking your coworker in the middle of the woods only spurring on your arousal.

“Look how wet you are, and you think I’m the pervert?” He teased, not giving you a moment to react before his tongue was between your folds, drinking up all of your wetness. You leaned your cheek against the tree as he ate you like he was starving, his hands kneading your ass as his tongue explored every inch of your needy pussy. Just as he began sucking on your clit, the two of you heard someone coming up the trail outside the clearing.

Spencer scrambled to his feet, his hand covering your mouth as he wrapped his arm around your waist to shield your bare bottom half from view. You carefully listened, waiting for the couple’s conversation to fade as they walked past before Spencer finally let his grip on your waist go, continuing to hold his other hand over your mouth.

“I need to feel you.” He whispered, pushing his pants down to free his erection. He grabbed your shoulder, pushing you forward against the tree again before kicking your legs further apart, the head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimpered against his hand, pushing your hips back in encouragement. He pushed into you, your wet cunt gripping every inch of his thick cock, stretching you out just enough to bring tears to your eyes. He filled you up perfectly, like he was made for you, and it grew increasingly hard to swallow your moans.

Spencer’s hand over your mouth could only muffle so much, but you didn’t care about getting caught anymore, you just needed him to fuck you as hard as he could. He started at a quick but steady pace, but you need more. You tried to talk against his palm, only creating confusion until he pulled his hand away just enough for you to speak.

“Harder.” You whined, holding onto the trunk of the tree for dear life as he granted your request. Each thrust of his hips against yours was almost brutal, his free hand digging fingertips so hard into your hip that you knew they’d bruise. Spencer had never been more grateful for his eidetic memory, knowing that he’d be able to remember how perfectly your ass rippled with every slam of his hips each time he wanted to relieve himself in the future. He finally dropped his grip from your mouth, the now free hand wrapping around your front and moving down your stomach to your clit, rubbing quick circles to match his pace.

“S-spencer, I’m not on birth control.” You choked out, sensing that he was as close as you were.

“Then let’s make a baby.” He groaned.

“Oh God!” His empty threat pushed you over the edge, your walls pulsing around him as you bit your forearm to stifle your cries of pleasure. Your knees began to buckle, Spencer’s grip the only thing keeping you standing as he came inside of you. He held you close, waiting for you to come down before pulling out, his seed dripping down your thighs. He brought his hand down to gather the extra, bringing his semen-covered fingers to your lips.

You didn’t have to be told what to do, sucking them clean as you caught your breath. He pulled your underwear and shorts back up your legs, helping you straighten up before doing the same with his pants.

“You really are a pervert.” You broke the silence, turning to face him.

“Oh yeah, like you’re completely innocent in all of this.” He quipped, wiping the slightest bit of his cum off the corner of your mouth.

“You might’ve just knocked me up in the middle of the woods, I think you win that title, Spencer.” He was blushing again, somehow shy again after the dirty things you’d just done together.

“I’ll take you into town to get the morning after pill, the rest of the team shouldn’t be back for a while still.” He took your hand, guiding you out of the clearing to start the walk back up the trail.

“I wouldn’t mind having your baby.” You told him, causing him to trip on a rock on the path. He caught himself, laughing it off, but secretly wishing he could pull you into the tree line and fuck you all over again.

——

Tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[mandarinmoons]

Hello, how about Spencer with an outdoorsy reader. She is always on hikes and goes on long backpacking trips when he’s out of town for a case. Mostly because Spencer isn’t the hiking type.

Anyways what if when she’s just on a day trip while he’s working a local case and she finds a body. She calls him immediately and that’s when the team discovers Spencer has a girlfriend and she’s not what they expected.

I love this idea! x

The morning sun shone through the window as you were sitting by the kitchen table, admiring the dew drops on the glass and the gentle sound of the birds singing outside. It looked to be a perfect morning and with the air feeling so crisp and fresh, you were excited to go on the small hike you had been planning for the past few weeks. Work had been hectic and a little retreat to one of your favorite places was just what you needed.

After getting dressed, filling your water bottle and packing some snacks you took off to your destination. You thought about getting your boyfriend Spencer to tag along with you, but knowing how that went down last time, and that he was working, you had to enjoy the trails all by yourself this time.

“Spence, c’mon! We’re nearly there!”

You looked behind your shoulder to see how far behind Spencer was. You stopped and waited for a minute before you saw the lanky man in your view, breathing heavily and holding tightly onto the straps of his backpack.

“Hold on for a moment. I gotta…”

Spencer leans against the side of a tree, his face red and sweaty, even if he regularly chases down unsubs he’s clearly not used to hiking down these long trails.

Walking beside him, you offered your water to him, which he downed nearly half of it.

“How do you do this every week?”

“Practice my love, it takes practice.”

Chuckling to yourself at the memory, you walked ahead and took your time to admire the scenery around you.

It was nearing the end of summer and the leaves had already started to change colors and fall away from their branches, leaving them bare and withered.

Taking a few steps away from the route, you headed down your usual secret path to a small cliff that showed off a beautiful view to the town, a scene you were almost sure only you knew about.

Carefully making your way up the hill, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what seemed to be a shoe sticking out from the side of a bush.

Don’t let this be what I think it is

You were reminded of the case Spencer was working on and the details he shared with you flashed through your mind.

“Women in their late twenties to early thirties have been found dead in secluded areas, out in the woods and paths.”

You knew that with dating an FBI agent there was bound to be a moment where his work would entangle with your life, but you never expected it to happen in this way.

Slowly walking over to the foliage, your worst fears were brought to life when you saw a hand peek through the branches, covered in a crimson sheen, which was undoubtedly blood.

Trying to control your breathing, you pulled out your phone and dialed Spencer’s number. When the call connected through, your tongue went numb and you tried to figure out a way to explain your situation, which seemed impossible.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“No… no, Spencer I’m not-”, your breathing picked up and your head started to spin. You sat down on the ground to try and ground yourself a bit, breathing in and out through your nose to fight off the dizziness.

“Y/N, where are you?”

“I’m on the trail… Spencer, I think I found a body.”

-

The blinking lights on the police cars blinded you as you watched by the sidelines, a detective questioning you about how you made your discovery.

The longer you were questioned the more you felt the energy leave your being. Spencer took notice in your demeanor and quickly pulled you to his side as soon as the last of the questions were answered.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Spencer nodded and ran his palms over your arms, you weren’t cold and yet you weren’t able to stop shaking the entirety of the time you were interviewed.

“They’re about to wrap up the body and then we can go home, okay?”

Nodding as a response, Spencer guided you along to the car and let you be by yourself for a moment while he talked over details with his team.

Nearing his team mates, the last thing Spencer expected to see was a grin on some people’s faces.

“So, you and nature girl, huh?”

Derek was always one to make a quip over Spencer, which he didn’t mind, but regarding how everyone found out about this during such grim circumstances, now wasn’t the best time for jokes.

During the time Spencer was away, you managed to get comfy enough to close your eyes and get some snooze, but that was cut short by the engine being turned on and your seatbelt being clicked on.

“It’s okay, we’re going home.”

The car ride home was silent. Spencer would occasionally ask what you’d want when you arrived, but you didn’t have the energy to reply to him and simply replied back with either a nod or shake of your head.

You hadn’t felt this drained in a while. When arriving home you didn’t even have the energy to step out of the car and Spencer made his way to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside.

Inside the house, Spencer crouched down and took off your shoes for you, you looked down on him as his hands carefully undid the laces and slipped the shoes off, the gentleness making your heart clench.

“I’ll go make you some tea and we’ll lie down for a bit, how does that sound?”

Spencer looked up and his eyes met your glassy ones, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“Oh honey,” standing up and taking you into his embrace, the tears took over and spilled over your cheeks as the distraught you faced today could no longer be hidden.

“How can anyone be that cruel?”

“I don’t know, angel.”

But that was a lie, Spencer did know how someone could be that cruel. In fact, he could list out the exact chemical reactions that needed to happen in someone’s brain in order for someone to behave in such an animalistic way, but he knew not to speak of them, at least not in this moment, because ignorance was bliss, and he did not want the only innocent miracle in his life to be tainted with the sorrows of his job, or should he say his primary life.

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[shotmrmiller]

kinktober: gunplay (ghoap x reader) cw: the tiniest of dub-con if you squint 1.8k of this foolishness and im pretty sure i lost the plot somewhere but in my defense, guns don't interest me

When you wake, you notice that Ghost isn’t in the tent. His bedroll neatly rolled up and put away in its usual spot and by the looks of things, he's been gone for quite some time. You sit up, the morning light filtering through the tent's fabric— the soft, diffused glow creating gentle shadows on the ground.

Outside, the air is crisp and sweet, dew still fresh on the grass, damp beneath your bare feet. Soap's lone mare is tied to the hitching post, tail flicking lazily as she eats off the hay net.

The campsite is quiet except for the chirping of birds and Soap's deep, growling snores coming from behind you. Ghost isn't here. Ghost isn't here. The thought bounces around in your skull, heart loud in your ears as the realization begins to sink in.

You could get away, slip away unnoticed from these two who've kept you as their reluctant companion since they wrangled you up in a rowdy saloon a couple of towns back with your hand deep in someone else's pocket. "Behave and we won't give ya up for the meager bounty yer worth." Or worse. The three of you knew no one would miss you, no family or friends to claim the body if you ended up face down on a riverbank.

It’s now or never. Freedom stands in front of you in a glossy, white coat and a braided mane, but being Soap’s horse, even approaching her will be a gamble. You'll just have to risk getting bucked off and trampled on.

When you go back inside to gather the few belongings you've got, you spot Soap's gun belt in all its worn leather glory lying in a tangled heap in the corner, revolvers still snug in their holsters. He must've gotten in late from town, the reward for the bounty he turned in last night traded in for hooch.

A mistake. His costly mistake. And a chance to ride his mare relatively unharmed. Your fingers tremble as they wrap around the handle, the ingrained symbol digging into your palm as you tighten your grip. You may not be a gunslinger with the fastest draw in the West, but you do know what end to point at someone.

But Soap's a bounty hunter and a damn good one. His reflexes are fast— faster than they should be with his dense, muscular build.  You've seen him close gaps with an unnatural speed that’s left even the toughest men reeling. He's a relentless force of pursuit when he wants to be and keeping him at a distance is a losing game, especially when you've no prior experience using a gun. Your only option is to corner him, limit his options. Every man bends the knee to power, and right now, you've got it in your clammy hand.

You straddle him, knees planted firmly on either side of his lower ribs, and press the barrel onto the left side of his jaw. Incredible, not even a hitch in his breathing, as if you're not sitting on him with your full weight. Fisting the front of his union shirt, you tug, the sharp, sudden sting of his chest hair being pulled taut waking him out of his deep sleep.

His bleary eyes snap open, blinking away any traces of sleep within moments, the new day's light catching the edges of his irises, making them gleam with an almost otherworldly brightness as they sweep the tent for any real danger.

Your breathing turns ragged once they land on you, satisfied, a wolfish grin tugging at the corner of his lips, revealing a hint of teeth. Dread claws at your gut, your nerves rattled, but you meet his gaze head-on. There is no room for hesitation, for doubt, not when the man you've got pinned with his own weapon is more touched in the head than Ghost is.

"I ken I'm handsome but all ye ‘ad t'do was ask, hen. I'm achin' fer the hair o' the hound if ye got any, though." His tone gives away nothing, his body completely lax. Even the rise and fall of his chest is steady, slow. You know better than to believe he isn't waiting on you to make the next move to retaliate, so you don't move. Neither of you do.

"You'll take me to town and you'll leave me there. Compared to the other folk you rope up and dump at the Sheriff's feet, I'm worth nothing." You'll make yourself scarce, move to a different state, maybe. A new life, a decent one. Honest work.

His smile widens, the puckered scar on his chin stretching. "Didnae think to take my girl? She's righ' there, saddle 'n all." Soap must think you daft.

"I want to disappear without drawing a target on my head large enough for you to see from across state lines." He would've hunted you down for sport, at that point. Soap blinks once, thrice, and then you have a solid weight pushing on your back, sudden and unexpected, forcing your upper body forward, your shoulders hunching in reflex.

The very familiar scent of earth and mildly ripe sweat sends a shiver licking up your spine, locking every notch firmly into place. Why you hadn't heard him arrive at camp or open the flaps to the tent is now irrelevant. Ghost is here now and you've nowhere to run, definitely not with Soap grabbing onto the soft of your waist, tethers made of human flesh and bone.

The weathered leather of his glove feels unexpectedly soft as his fingers curl around your trembling hand. "If you're gonna threaten ‘im, ya gotta do it proper," he mutters, breath warm against the shell of your ear. His voice is a low, rolling rumble, the kind he takes when calming his panicked horse.

"Easy now, settle down, loosen your arm a little." It does nothing to soothe you, Ghost looming larger than the gun in your grip, making it feel almost insignificant— a mere prop in the face of his overwhelming presence and the voice in your head screams at you to bare your neck, submit, and hope he goes for your jugular quickly, death seemingly a better choice than whatever game he’s making you play. "Open up, Johnny."

He does so readily, a transparent string of saliva stretching between his top and bottom teeth. Ghost's denim-clad thighs bracket yours as he settles comfortably behind you, his barrel chest engulfing the entirety of your back with space to spare.

Soap lies there with his tongue out like a dog on a hot, summer's day, mouth open wide enough for you to see the ridges and grooves of his molars. Ghost forcibly moves your hand, metal scraping against Soap's stubble with a coarse, gritty sound.

“Lie still Johnny, ya hear?” his pointer finger hovering over the trigger. The lump that’s risen to your throat makes breathing hard, each swallow a struggle. You never intended to fire a shot, just hoped the threat of life and death would be enough to make things go your way. 

“W-wait,” you gurgle out but Ghost’s hand only tightens around yours. 

“Can’t get cold feet now, sweet’eart, not when Soap’s southern blood is pumpin’ ‘cause a you.” His-? You take notice of it then, the rigid swelling between your legs, pushing up into your center. As if to drive the point home, Soap bucks his hips while pulling you down, making the inseam of your pants brush against your pearl. 

“Oh-,” he does it again, and again, the leaden lump of dread that had once anchored itself in your belly begins to melt away, becoming an insistent ache that quickens your heartbeat and warms your veins, a mellow heat radiating from your core outward.

And then two things happen at once. 

Soap takes the pistol’s barrel into his mouth, slightly pursing his lips as he creates a seal around it, and his cheeks gently hollow as he bobs his head forward and back, and Ghost slowly weaves his unoccupied hand south, under your jeans and underwear, the roughened tips of his fingers quickly finding what you’ve been forced to neglect for months. 

Soap grunts, a gravelly resonant sound— rich and full— when you dig your nails into the meat of his chest as Ghost jerks erratic little circles on your puffy clit, sending shockwaves through your stomach, each wave headier than the last. 

“Can’t let ‘im ‘ave all the fun, eh?” The pressure on your waist is enough to ache, your flesh already throbbing beneath Soap’s hands, and the closer you get to the precipice, the harder they squeeze. 

Metal clacks against tooth every time your body tenses, muscles constrict, unable to keep your arm steady even with Ghost’s iron grip over your own. Soap’s a slobbering mess, spit dribbling down his chin, pistol glossy with it as he sucks on it as if it were a man’s cock instead.

(Maybe he wants it to be.) 

A couple of hiccups claw up your throat as the sticky, wet sounds of Soap’s mouth get drowned out by the shrill ringing in your ears as you teeter on the sharpened edge, Ghost’s pace on you turning frantic, almost violent, and—

“Keep those pretty eyes on Johnny, he’s been dreamin’ of lookin’ at ya in the face while you come.”

Ghost tossing the gun aside, metal skidding across the floor, and you’re coming apart with Soap’s tongue in your mouth, swallowing your every gasp and moan.

It tastes like the lubricant he uses to clean his gun. Metallic. Tangy. Slightly acrid.

You’re barely able to draw in a breath when Ghost is already tugging your pants off, waistband coming to settle snugly right below your arse, exposing only what he needs, a couple of fingers gliding along your folds, curling right at your entrance.

But he doesn’t do what you expect; for him to sink into cunt, fill it to the brim, distended until you’ve got tears clumping your eyelashes and blood on your tongue. 

(It’s been a very long time since you’ve last laid with a man, and not one has ever been as big as he in stature.)

Instead, he takes Soap’s bare length in one giant paw, using your creamy slick for better friction, and ruts his own heavy cock against it until they’re both spurting the warm spend Ghost crams into your needy hole with two fingers.

“‘M not fuckin’ you, not after your stupid little stunt,” he says as if he’s talking about the weather, and you’re not sure if laughing will stop the hysterical sob about to slither past your trembling lips. 

Soap stares up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, content, satiated unlike you, and pinches your cheek with his fingers. “Next time ye want tae threaten a person—,” his voice peters off, and you can feel Ghost wiping his hand on the back of your shirt before reaching for Soap’s pistol and pressing a button, the cylinder dropping open.

Empty. Every single chamber is hollow, like the empty sockets of a honeycomb. “Make sure it’s loaded, sweet’eart.”

Un. fucking. Believable.

[kyu-piddy]

New Year’s Kiss

An: Happy new year everyone! Exams are kicking my butt, so I haven’t been able to write much. Even so, here’s a little something to celebrate the beginning of 2025!

Gn reader x nrc students (minus Ortho)

Words: 5.3k words

Tw: None

The clock strikes midnight, the new year commences, and the man you secretly love stands in front of you.

Eyes locked and heart in your mouth, seconds pass in silence���

Ace

Ace’s mouth quirks into a little smirk.

“I know you’re just dying to kiss me, Prefect.”

His jeering tone is contrasted by the heat climbing up from his neck to his cheeks, hand on the back of his head.

“Maybe you’re the one dying to kiss me, Ace.”

His false confidence crumbles, his gaze faltering to the ground.

“Maybe… Just maybe, I do.”

The festivities around you continue, but time stands still as you take a step forward, so uncertain in your certainty.

As your faces are merely inches from each other, you stop, sudden shame coloring your mind.

Before you can put much more thought into it, Ace leans forward and steals a kiss.

Soft and brief, he quickly pulls away, turning his head around just as quickly.

“The others are probably looking for us. Let’s go.”

He starts walking fast, bashfulness leading his feet, but passion leading his heart, and hand, to yours.

Deuce

Deuce seems momentarily lost, briefly fleeting from confused to bashful, before setting into a serious expression, resolute on whatever his mind has decided.

“Prefect, there’s this new years tradition I’d really like to try.”

His practiced speech stops midway, loosing himself in your inquisite eyes.

Murmuring something to himself, he throws himself forward, grabbing your hands with his, a violently soft prayer of acceptance.

“I really want to kiss you!”

You blink stupidly back at him.

He takes a step back, a dejected look on his face.

“Only if you want to, of course. I’d never want to force you.”

Grabbing his tie, you shut him up with a kiss.

He freezes, insecurities of a first kiss clouding his judgement, but slowly and surely melts into it.

Cater

“Happy new year! Since I found you first, you have to give me a big ol smooch.”

You roll your eyes, but nevertheless lean into his face, landing a soft kiss on his plush cheek, small specks of glitter reflecting the low lights of the room.

“Happy now?” you ask, a small smile on your face not reflected in your heart.

Cater puts on a pondering face, finger tapping on his chin, pensative gaze staring straight through you.

“Uhmm… Not really, no.”

He chirps, and his airy smile drops, replaced by a surprisingly serious look.

“I want a real kiss,___.”

“Cater, don’t play around! I swear, it’s too early in the year for a magicam challenge.”

You playfully slap his arm, a chance for him to grab it and pull you close, his other arm resting on your lower waist.

“I don’t always play around, you know?”

Releasing your arm, he leads his hand to the back of your head.

The sparkles on his cheeks are the last thing you see before you’re engulfed in a fiery kiss, one that you’ll remember forever.

Trey

“The mess after this party is going to be immense. I pity whoever will have to clean it.”

“Thankfully it isn’t us! I can already imagine the hours it would take to clean the stains of that carpet.”

Trey is extremely good at small talk, and soon enough the moment dissolves like morning dew.

You can’t help but pity it, cursing your own innactiveness.

Warm eyes inspect you without you noticing, critical but not antagonizing, waiting for an opening.

Then, something clicks.

“Prefect, I think I saw something in your teeth.”

“What!” You let out a gasp of embarrassment, hand shooting up to hide your momentary blemish.

“Now, let me see.”

He moves close to your face, slowly unpeeling your hand of your face.

“Open your mouth, please.”

He orders politely, not leaving you any choice.

You comply, his hand on your chin, and after a quick inspection, Trey speaks up.

“It seems I was mistaken. Apologies, Prefect.”

You close your mouth, but before you can thank him something warm graces your lips.

Bashfully, you close your eyes, his lips on yours like heaven.

His tongue slithers between your lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, memorizing them.

Treys warm lips leave yours, a cheeky grin replacing his former expression.

“Now I’m completely sure there’s nothing there. Thank you for collaborating.”

You give him an annoyed look and he merely chuckles in response.

Riddle

“Riddle, did you know there’s a New Years tradition of kissing someone at midnight?”

You ask, breaching the silence.

“I have heard of it. Mother always said it was a glorified disease spreader.”

He answers matter of factly, and you feel yourself deflating.

“Is that so.”

More silence. You shuffle your feet around, unsure on how to proceed.

As the seconds pass by, midnight and one minute inches closer.

“Please do not participate in such an activity, Prefect.”

You feel exasperation boiling over, like a petulant child being told by their parents what not to do.

“Why not, Riddle?! If you don’t want to, why shouldn’t I go find someone who wants!”

Riddles eyes widen, his face exploding in a fiery red color.

He clears his throat, doing his best to look you in the eye.

“You’re right, Prefect. I can’t tell you what to do. I just… I wouldn’t want you to do such a thing with someone else because I want to be the one that you… that you kiss.”

An exasperated plea, love and desperation coating his unsure voice.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, thump thumping louder each time.

“Would you do the honor of letting me kiss you?”

Riddle asks, a wish and a request all at once.

“There’s no else I’d rather do it with.”

Even if midnight had already passed, Riddle and you still shared a New Years kiss, tinted with the flavor of strawberries.

Jack

“Prefect, you’re hurt.”

You looked down at your ankle, a bitter red pulsating under the supple skin.

“It’s fine. I think I just tripped earlier. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at him winningly, but his worries are not soothed by your words.

Your feet are pulled out of the ground, a small gasp escaping your lips, as Jack picks you up.

He carries you to a small room and sits you down on a chair, unbothered by your flustered opinion.

“There’s a first aid kit here. Take off your shoe and give me your foot.”

You comply, even as redness creeps up and stains your feautures.

Jack starts applying some sort of cold cream, and then fixes you up with bandages, his hands unexpectedly tender despite their rough exterior.

“Thank you, Jack. I feel much better.”

“Good.”

He answers almost disinterestedly, his soft smile letting his true feelings shine.

“Sorry for making you miss the best part of new years.”

Your voice fails you as your mind scrambles to find the right words.

“I want to make it up to you.”

Slowly, very slowly, you approach his face, gauging his expression.

It remains painfully unmoving, but his tail waggers behind him, giving you all the confidence you need.

Lips on lips, gently like a flowers touch, you don’t let yourself get too carried away.

“We should probably go back.”

You comment.

He nods his head, a dust of pink gracing his cheeks, as he once again swoops you off the ground, his tail wagging the only assurance you need.

Ruggie

You feel your pocket rustling as Ruggie walks past you, too quick for you to catch up to him.

Rummaging through said pocket, you find your phone missing.

“Ruggie, come back!”

Perusing the room with your eyes like a detective inspecting the scene of a crime, you spot his tail peeking from behind a door.

Running as best as you can through the crowd of intermingling bodies, you reach the door and quickly slip in.

The room you slip into is empty and slightly dusty, unknown to the partygoers.

“Ruggie, where are you?! I saw you come here.”

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, warm and soft palms blocking your line of sight and reason.

“Caught ya. Shishishi.”

He laughs lightly near your ear, the baby hairs on your neck standing on edge.

“Can I have my phone back now?”

He laughs again.

“You can. But I have a price.”

His hands slid away from your eyes, and you turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, and you’ll get your phone back.”

Cheeks flaring up, you complied.

But instead of the cold metal of the phone sliding into your pocket, you felt the warm breath of the one you had long pinned for against your face.

And in no time at all, his lips on yours.

Leona

Leona’s languid gaze swept through your body, resting upon your face in the end, a lazy smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“Isn’t there something you should be doing, herbivore?”

“Getting more fruit punch? I definitely should be doing that.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

His words made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart skip a beat, but your face remained calm and composed.

You would make him break first in this long lasting dance of yours.

Suddenly, he got close. Much too close, as your back hit the wall, one of his arms caging you in.

“Little herbivore, you can keep running and hiding, but sooner or later you’ll have to give in.”

You mulled over his words, a coy look decorating your face, innocence disguising your true intentions.

“If you’re not going to stop me, why should I? Maybe if I ask Malleus-”

Your words were cut off by his mouth on yours, a ferocious and heated kiss, his taste and smell invading your senses until you could no longer remember anything else.

“Are you going to ask that stupid lizard now?” he breathed out in bettwen kisses.

“Never.” you answered, pulling him closer by his collar.

Azul

“Ah, dear Prefect. Are you enjoying the Mostro Lounge new year party?”

He curtsied you with his hat, a perfect old timey gentleman.

“Indeed, I am. I wonder how this party has all my favourites coicidentally. Favorite beverage, favorite food, even my favourite color is part of the main decorations.”

You made sure to give him a significant look, his gaze unfaltering under your scrutiny.

“What interesting coincidences, aren’t they?”

His smile never faltered, ever so politely fake.

“Our vip lounge has some extra festivities that could be to your interest. Perhaps could I escort you there?”

“No, thank you. I’d rather go back to my friends.”

His smile fell momentarily, a shocked look on his face quickly covered by his suave persona.

“But I insist, Prefect.”

“And I insist on no. I have to go.”

Making your way through the room, you counted down from five in your head.

As it reached one, the twins appeared in the corner of your eye, turning into a makeshift wall, stopping you in your tracks.

“Heyaaaa, Shrympy. You have to go back to Azul, or he’ll surely blow a fuse.”

“That’s right, our esteemed guest. Our dear Azul is waiting for you.”

“Then tell him to come get me himself.”

The twins look at each other before swiftly dispersing.

In seconds, Azul appears, looking slightly frazzled.

“So dear Azul, did I ruin your perfect plan for new years? Let me guess, you wanted to take me to the vip lounge, butter me up, and then kiss me?”

Undeciferable emotions pass through his eyes like a carrousel as you simply smile at him mischievously.

His mouth moved, something about to be said, but you didn’t let him, kissing him before a sound could be uttered, and breaking away even faster, quickly shuffling away to the table where your friends sat, but not before saying one last thing.

“Happy new year, Azul. Let’s hope next year you can kiss me for a change.”

Jade

“Jade, there’s a strange mushroom in my glass.”

Jade smiled widely at you, eyes closed and hands politely folded.

“Is it so, now? May I see it?”

Handing him your cup, he observed the floating little fungi.

“Oh, dear. I’m not quite sure, but if this mushroom is the one I believe it is, it isn’t toxic per say, but it has serious side effects, such as vomiting and rashes.”

You raised one of your brows at him, his impassive face unfaltering.

“How could such a mushroom end up in the drink of a client at a restaurant? Seems very unlikely.”

“Unlikely but not impossible. Certain students of this school are known for their mischievous streak. But for now, what matters most is helping our esteemed customer.”

“And how can you help me?”

His eyes opened, he stared at you with his menacing smile, teeth barred for all to see.

“Thankfully, it is very simple. The victim of the mushroom must simply have the toxin extracted from the zone in the body where it went into contact with.”

“Right. And how do you do that?”

“A simple suction motion can do the trick.”

“Really, now? Then in other words I have to ask someone to suck on my lips?”

“If it is the mushroom with those side effects, yes. It could also be a completely normal mushroom.”

You felt like rolling your eyes at him, his obvious stunt endearingly annoying.

“Okay. Then suck it out of my lips.”

Your direct answer didn’t seem to faze him as he leaned into you, slightly sucking on your lips.

Heat crept up to your face, his lips becoming warmer and warmer against yours.

“Uhmm, I’m not quite sure if it is that mushroom after all. Maybe it’s another one. I’ll have to test it to be sure.”

You went to grab your cup again to show him the mushroom again, but he held your cheeks with his hand and kissed you, properly, this time.

His tongue licked the bottom of your lips, and finding your teeth pliant, delved deeper, tasting all it could.

As he pulled back, you asked him.

“What mushroom is it after all?”

“Just a normal mushroom used for cooking.”

With a little smirk, he answered, and leaned again to kiss you.

Floyd

“Shrimpy, Shrimpy, if you don’t kiss me right now I’m going to squeeze your dumb friends reallll hard.”

Floyd’s burning gaze flustered you harder than any of his words, leaving your brain to catch up to your ears.

“You are not doing that! And I am not kissing you under a threat!”

You argued back at him, watching his face turn from a pearly white grin to pouty.

“Come on, Shrimpyyyyy. It’s a tradition on land to kiss someone on new years and I wanna do it.”

“Then go do it with someone else.”

You replied, cheeks flaming at the idea, but to proud to go back on your words.

His pout deepened, and he raised his arms.

“You’re so cruel. I don’t want to kiss anyone else! I want to kiss you, ___.”

The sentence starts airy and whiny, childlike even, but ends with a poignant seriousness that makes your eyes meet his.

“Kiss me. And only me.”

He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You furrow your brows at him.

“Only if you ask politely.”

He ponders your words, but does not heed them, leaning into you and stealing a chaste kiss before running away.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You run after him, but his gigantic legs and lanky build let him get away, as he shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Shrimpys kiss is mine!”

Kalim

“So I was there, in my potions class, and then this frog flew into my cauldron and-”

You sighed, Kalim’s mouth running wild as he kept telling you stories of his day to day.

Normally, you’d enjoy his jovial and light conversation, but right now you expected a little bit more.

“Oh gosh, look at the time! It’s past midnight!” He comments excitedly.

“The fireworks are starting right about now! Let’s go, Prefect!”

On the balcony of Kalims room, you stand side by side observing the fire works, their light illuminating the night sky and reflecting in your eyes.

You shyly try to take his hand, but he is to busy gesticulating them around, pointing to each image produced by the fireworks with such wonder as if he had never seen them.

As the show draws to a close, he finally turns fully to you, eyes filled with happiness and a desire to please.

“Did you enjoy it? Don’t you think it was just the most amazing firework show you have ever seen!”

You smiled at him, but no answer could be given, as the carpet beneath you both flew from underneath you, sending you both crashing down onto the ground.

Something soft hit your lips, and you opened your eyes to Kalims lips on yours.

He quickly leaned back, red covering his face.

“Oh my… that was nice, wasn’t it?”

“I think so too.”

You answered, still a bit dazed, the full brunt of the embarrassment not yet settled in.

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes widened at his direct request, heart flying out of your chest.

“You can.”

Beneath the star lit sky, you kissed as many times as the stars would let you.

Jamil

“Are you still busy with Kalim?”

You asked, crossing your fingers in hope that Jamil could be yours, even if for just a minute.

“I’m afraid so. Kalim wanted to try a new drink, so I had to go prepare it.”

He gestured to the tray in his hand with his head, face umbetraying of any emotion.

Your own wasn’t so lucky, as you visibly deflated.

“Sorry to bother you then. I’ll go back to the refreshments table.”

Giving him a small smile, you started walking away.

His hand reached out, softly gripping yours.

“Give me a minute.”

You nodded, and watched as his back disappeared into the crow.

The sound of fireworks could be heard all around, overpowering any other noise, all the guests surrounding the windows and filling the balconies in hope of catching the best view, while you waited in the back.

As minutes ticked by, your hope depleted and your frown returned.

But your smile blossomed as you saw Jamil returning.

“I apologize for making you wait. Kalim wanted some more pillows.”

You held his hands on your own, softly brushing your thumb against the back.

“It’s fine. As long as I can steal you for just a bit.”

Silence reined bettwen you both, as the fire works raged on.

Soft gazes and tender hearts, you leaned closer and so did he, and sooner rather than later the silence was filled with a kiss.

Vil

“Dear, your makeup is smudged.”

Your eyes widened, searching for the nearest mirror.

“Where?! I swear, it must have been Ace with his stupid prank! I’m going to kill him!”

Taking a hand mirror out of his bag, Vil held it out for you to use.

“Thank you so much. I completely forgot mine!”

Seating on a random chair nearby, you started reapplying your eyeliner.

Vil watched you from the back, his reflection in the pocket mirror, even though small, imposing.

“I see you used the makeup I recommended. You sure do look splendid, my dear.”

“A compliment from you, Vil? My, I feel touched!”

You jested, a small laugh escaping the man behind you.

“I sure hope you do. I don’t hand out compliments that easily. Only to those who deserve it.”

His reflection in the mirror gets bigger as he keeps approaching you from the back, strands of blond hair draping over your shoulder.

“Turn to me. Let me help you with your lipstick.”

Face turned to the side, he felt even closer, amethyst eyes piercing through you and your makeup.

“Such a beautiful shade, isn’t it?”

“I think so too. And it barely stains, too!”

“I know, dear. But sometimes products are a little faulty and should be tested.”

His lips meet yours before you can even understand what’s going on.

Soft and fragrant, he moves away much too quickly, your head following his, even though you’re not connected anymore.

He laughs softly, a delicate and musical sound.

“So? Did it stain?”

You basfully inspect his lips, his makeup as pristine as if freshly put on.

“No. I don’t think so, at least.”

“Then shall we test it again? Any good products mustn’t be tested just once.”

“Of course.”

Your face flushes at his proposition, betraying you amd your willingness.

Vil doesn’t seem to mind, leaning down again and stealing another chaste kiss, and then another, and then another, until you can draw the shape of his lips with your heart.

Rook

“Ah, my little trickster! Enjoying the anne noveau? It’s a truly joyous ocassion!”

You smiled at Rook’s dramatics, deciding to humor him.

“And why is it so joyous?”

A mysterious glint lit up his eyes, mischievously charming.

“There’s this little traditión that certain people partake in during this occasion. A new years kiss. Have you heard of it?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows?”

You smile at him, mischievously coy, playing around with your drink like one who isn’t quite sure how to answer.

“My little trickster, how you tempt me so.”

Using his thumb and pointer, he takes a hold of your chin delicately possessive of a prize that is not yet his.

“This temptation you have laid upon me, won’t you help me satiate it? Let this curiosity of mine rest?”

Your heart beats rapidly, bravado gone as your gaze was forced to battle with his, an evergreen intensity that made you crumble.

“Since it’s also a curiosity of mine… I’ll let you.”

His mischievous smile widened, and with unexpected ferociousness, locked his lips with yours.

His hot mouth felt like a burning inferno, burning you up from the inside and leaving you wanting for more, needing him more.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, he leaned back, perching a finger on your lips.

“Not now, my ___. Let’s wait a little while longer, shall we?”

Epel

Epel shuffled awkwardly in front of you, his fancy clothing clashing with his dour expression.

“What’s up, dude? You look way too sour. Did Vil make you wear that fancy suit?”

“Yeah. I look like some sorta fancy pastry with too much frostin’.”

You giggled at his words, shaking your head.

“I think you look rather nice. But you can always shed the tie if it’s really bothering you.”

“That’s a darn fine idea.”

He quickly shoves the tie down his pocket, visibly relaxing.

“Better?”

“Couldn’t be better. I can finally move freely! Thanks! I owe ya one.”

He moves away, as if to go back to the dancefloor but turns back and runs towards you.

“To hell with it!” you hear him mutter, before bashing his lips onto yours, pure drive behind his every move.

He pulls back, eyes wide and breathing erratically, surprise by actions of his own doing.

“You’re redder than an apple.” he comments, still looking bewildered.

“So are you.”

“Guess we matchin’ then.”

He smiles, all teeth and small dimples, and you smile back.

Idia

The beeps and boops of Idia’s phone were the only noises made from either of you, the tall man hunched over on the floor, back to the wall, like a child hiding from his parents.

“Aren’t you going to go celebrate the new years with everyone?”

Without taking his gaze from the screen he answers matter of factly.

“Nah. Gotta grind for the new years event. Gachas can totally bs with their event requirements.”

“Okay then.”

You kept your back to the wall, staring into the crowd up ahead, a pang of sadness weighting you down.

“Big Brother!” chirped a happy voice.

“And Prefect! Happy new year!”

Ortho beamed happily, circling you both excitedly like a little rabbit jumping around.

“Big brother, have you given ___ the kiss of new years yet?”

Idia’s fingers stop for the first time in the night, a red game over flashing on his screen.

“New years kiss?” you ask gently.

“Yes, Prefect. Big brother said it’s a quintessential part of any romance anime that has a new years episode! The epitome of end of season drama. So, has big brother kissed you yet?”

Said big brother is slowly slipping further and further down, glueing himself to the floor, fiery pink hair licking at your feet.

“Not yet, Ortho. But don’t worry about it. I’ll help him with it, ok?”

Ortho nodded and merrily skipped away, leaving you with his distraught older brother.

Crouching down, you got your face in front of his, his eyes closed shut.

“Am I getting my kiss now?”

He groaned loudly, slightly opening one eye to peek at you.

“This is not fair. You know my weak point. It’s cheating!”

You giggled at his conundrum, bending down to close the final space left bettwen you two, giving him a little peck on the lips.

“Next year, you give me the new years kiss alright?”

Groaning, he turned to the side and curled into a ball, slowly nodding his head.

Malleus

“I finally found you, Tsunotaoru!”

The tall fae stood in the middle of a lonely balcony, his only companion the smiling moon.

“Child of man. You have come to visit me?”

He asked, joy and sadness laced onto every word.

“Of course I have. It’s new years after all. And no one likes to spend new years alone.”

“That I do believe to be true. Sadly, there are too many years and not enough people to spend them with.”

Malleus longingly observed the moon, heavy fog of uneasiness seeping through the balcony.

You approached him, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“One day, only that moon will still be here with me. And even she mocks my plight, smiling radiantly upon any who walk below her.”

Stroaking his arm gently, you spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps one day, when the moon is the only that remains and she smiles at you, you’ll see the smile of everyone who used to smile at her too.”

Finally, he turned to you, holding your hand with a feather like touch.

“I quite like that sentiment, child of man. Even so, at least for tonight, I don’t wish to share with the moon. Tonight, shan’t you be only mine?”

A soft smile bloomed on your lips, your free hand caressing his face.

“Tonight, and forever.”

“Forever.”

His plush lips slotted perfectly onto yours, a warm kiss to truly last forever under the moonlight.

Silver

“Silver, wake up! It’s midnight!”

The silver haired man asleep on your shoulder remained so, the ruckus of the festivities almost like a lullaby to his tired mind.

“Oh, please, Silver!”

You shook him vigorously, and he finally awoke, startled.

“Prefect? Have I fallen asleep again?”

He looks around, in an unbotheredly lost way only someone who is used to falling asleep everywhere can have.

“Yeah, you did. And you missed the new years!”

“That’s fine. Every year there’s a new one. Besides, this year I have a higher priority.”

You raised a brow.

“A… higher priority?”

He nodded assertively.

“Father told me about this “new years kiss” tradition, and as such”- he got down on one knee in front of you, head bowed- “___, would you give me the honor of being my new year’s kiss?”

You stared at him, baffled and more than a bit unsure on how to react.

“Please get of the floor, Silver.”

“Is that a no?”

“I didn’t say that. I… I accept it.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as your almost sworn knight gets up from the floor and takes your hand in his.

“You’re rather beautiful,___.”

Face hot and stomach twirling, you can’t help but look away from his eyes.

“Please just kiss me already.”

“Of course.”

Closing his eyes, he gently presses his lips against yours, before promptly falling asleep on top of you.

You sigh, letting the man rest. Next year you’d get back at him.

Sebek

“HUMAN. HAVE YOU SEEN LORD MALLEUS! I WISH TO BE THE FIRST TO WISH HIM A HAPPY NEW YEAR.”

Sebeks voice boomed in your ear, and you feel the moment slip from your fingers like sand.

Annoyance creeps onto your voice and face, and you can’t help but shout back.

“I DON'T KNOW AND I DON'T CARE! LIKE YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT ANY OTHER PEOPLE! DON'T YOU HAVE FRIENDS TO THINK ABOUT?! OR EVEN… me?”

Anger leaves your voice, and only sadness and solitude remain.

Sebeks shocked face reflects in your eyes, tears welling up and forming a cristaline pool.

“Go find your lord or whatever. I’ll find someone else to spend my new years with.”

You run away from him, hiding in a dimly lit room, tears falling down your cheeks and staining the floor.

Some time passes, and someone knocks on the door before bursting in.

“HUMAN I- I have come to apologize. My behaviour was unbecoming and I’d…”

His whole face was flushed red, as he tried to get his next words out.

He adjusted his posture, standing straight and then bending down, in a perfect 90 degree angle.

“I would thourogly enjoy spending new years with you, if you would like!”

A smile creeps onto your face as you dry your tears with the back of your hand.

“Sebek?”

“YE-Ahem, yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you.

“WHAT?!”

You threw yourself at his arms, letting them surround you and hold you as you bash your lips onto his.

He shyly returns, unsure of what to do.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You ask, unsure.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

Lilia

“Young ___, enjoying the new year celebration ?”

Hearing him call you “young”, felt like a stab to the heart.

Lilia always seemed to see you as much too young, much to green, to ever see you as more.

“Yeah. I am. What about you?”

He smiled gently, swirling his glass.

“The new year is a time of change, supposedly. Of growth. But an old man like me can’t do much of those things anymore.”

He sipped on his glass, unbothered by the implications of his words.

“That’s not true. No matter your age, you can always change. Hopefully for the better! Besides, you aren’t that old, Lilia.”

A depressed smile decorates his feautures as he turns to you, so different from his mischievous ones you’re used to seeing.

“ What if I told you I was indeed that old, ___? Would you still want to stay here in hopes of a new years kiss? Of a romance with a fool long past his prime?”

Your eyes widen at his serious tone, no bitterness or happiness in it, nothing at all, just truly neutral questions.

Even so, you felt your conviction solidify.

“If the self proclaimed fool past his prime would at least entertain the idea of me actually being in love with him, he could believe me when I say, I want only you.”

A small incredulous laugh escapes the man by your side.

“Perhaps I should entertain that idea.”

“Not perhaps. You really should.”

You stare at him resolutely, his smile morphing into one of his familiar mischievous ones you liked so much.

“If that is the case, first I have to get a taste.”

In the blink of an eye, he had his lips on yours, warm and softly aggressive, his fangs perfurating your lips and leaving tiny dots of red blood behind.

The metallic taste lingered in your mouth even as he retreated.

“You taste rather appetizingly, ___.”

Your blood colors your cheeks as well as your lips, the perpetrator of both fixing a hair of yours behind your ear, blissfully aware of your bashfulness.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ green is the color of envy (and poison)

type of post: fic characters: neige, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, vague possessiveness maybe angst idk, oooh drama author's note: I wanted a break from headcanons and had this strange urge to do a character study for neige. here I am, writing this at midnight

Neige Leblanche does not hate Vil Schoenheit.

The thought had not even occurred to him.

In fact, if you had even asked as much, his wide, doe-like eyes would fill with pretty tears, and he would ask you, in a trembling voice, if you really thought of him so cruelly.

Neige Leblanche did not hate anyone. On the contrary, he had so much love, it practically overflowed from him, touching the ground at his feet and imprinting itself on everything he held.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a vision of loveliness, a sunrise, morning dew on the petal of a white lily. He would have gladly, if you asked him, plucked each star out of the sky for you, written you a thousand songs, laid himself at your feet in adoration.

He was cupid, a chubby-faced, blushing cherub.

He had been content, for a time. Happy, even, with his little life, the family and career he had built with his own two hands, though you wouldn't know it from their softness.

Then, there was you.

You. You. The magicless prefect of Night Raven College. An otherworldly being. A hero.

You. So kindhearted, always gentle with the first years and animals. So polite, with him and his friends. So brave, facing danger and coming out unscathed. Your hope and gratefulness despite your circumstances reminded him, in a way, of himself.

There was no other explanation for it. You were sent for him.

Neige had simply never been so sure of anything. It felt right. It felt perfect. You were the one he'd been waiting for. You were his.

After the VDC, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You! You were perfect for him, his soulmate, and he didn't need to know you to know that. He'd never felt like this before, after all. It must be love.

You feel it too, don't you?

Limb by limb, he sews together a ragdoll of you in his mind. Something simple. Soft. Beautiful. Something for his thoughts to play with. He gives you a sword, one day, and he makes you a knight. He dresses you in the finest of silks, and he makes you a noble. He pushes up the corners of your sewn-together mouth, and he makes you smile back at him.

You're kind. You're brave. You're loving. You're loyal. You're chivalrous. You're anything he could want or need, anything at all, because you're his.

Why would fate lead him to someone who wasn't already perfect?

And, oh, how he wants to pick you flowers. Neige will make you breakfast in bed, and sing for you. Everyone loves him; and he loves everyone. But it isn't enough. You're his soulmate. Don't you know?

Why do you keep looking at each other like that.

You're so friendly, just like Neige, always so eager to please. Right? That's what it is. Right?

There could be no other reason for you and Vil Schoenheit to look at each other like that. As if you know something that Neige doesn't. As if you're having a conversation with only your eyes. What is that? What does it mean?

Why does he feel so comfortable touching you?

A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist. He corrects your posture with both hands on your shoulders. He taps your thigh when you're distracted. He holds your face in both palms to scold you for smudging the eyeliner he had so tediously put on you before coming here...

Why do you smile at him when he lectures you? Why does he smile back?

This strange, dizzying feeling, this tightness in Neige's chest, this unwelcomed weight, can't just be confusion.

He can only lie to himself for so long.

You feel it, too... don't you? Don't you get butterflies when you look at him? Don't you feel dizzy? Don't you think of him?

Vil murmurs something in your ear with a sly smile, and you laugh.

And you haven't even looked at Neige once yet. The thought makes him clench his fists under the table.

As this new, painful weight settles in his stomach, a dizzying thought sits with it.

Neige Leblanche is jealous.

Of Vil Schoenheit.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Lick Back 2 (Part 2) by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Violence, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond didn't expect to become a father over night. A surprising photo in the mail reveals that an illicit affair he had with a married woman eleven months ago resulted in a baby girl named after him. Ecstatic to be a new dad, he races to South Carolina to reunite with Nova, and bring their new family to Louisiana for Christmas. Unfortunately, Nova's estranged husband Jordan has different plans.

Word count: 14.5K

Read Lick Back (The Beginning) HERE.

"Like sweet morning dew

I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"All I Need"

Terry went into battle mode, thinking as a soldier doing an extraction.

The retreat stayed hidden within a vast area of forest, swampland, and the black river. He pulled over near a grouping of trees to hide his truck. According to his mapping calculations, the treehouse encampment was ahead of him, but he didn't want the noise of his truck to alert Jordan of his presence. He'd gone off-roading to enter the grounds since the main entrance was closed. Digging into one of his travel bags, he donned a black jacket to blend into the darkness. His black jeans aided the camouflage. Grabbing a small military tactical flashlight with various light settings, he chose night vision green to help him see and blend in without the brightness of the white flashes alerting Jordan. Slinging a small pair of sportsman's binoculars around his neck, he set off into the forest.

The potent scent of river water compelled him to move faster. He was in the correct geographical location. He turned on Nova's phone and placed it in quiet mode. The Airtag signal was good for one hundred feet, and the cell signal flitted in and out. Moving in stealth, he followed the river and scouted for treehouses. He couldn't find Terrina's signal. Touching the screen, he switched over to Van-Van's…there. A bright white arrow pointed to his left on a black screen. One hundred feet away. About six car lengths. The signal dropped, but he felt confident about finding them.

Keeping close to the trees, he found the dark sedan that ran down his truck partially hidden under a dark tarp. He turned off Nova's phone and stuffed it in his back pocket. Ahead, a shadowy structure loomed. Using the binocs, he confirmed the ground-level structure was empty. The building appeared to be used as an information kiosk. He read the name of the retreat all over the walls and found a wall map of all the treehouses available. There were ten in a half-moon pattern. Nella said they used the ones closest to the river and there were four shown. He snapped a picture of the map for reference and traveled on, using Nova's phone app as his guide.

Bingo!

Van-Van's Airtag pinpointed the exact spot.

In the darkness, a pale yellow light glowed high in the canopy of an oak tree further away. The treehouse stood on stilts that raised it up high so that tall, slender trees surrounded it. Brightly shining white Christmas lights hung on several trees. They prevented Terry from sneaking up the narrow steps to the housing platform without being seen.

Creeping quietly toward the structure, he climbed a tree and roosted in its canopy to look inside a picture window using the binocs. He made out two figures. Jordan pacing frantically waving a weapon, and Nova seated facing him. Exhaling a sigh of relief, he planned his next move.

He could wait until Jordan fell asleep, but that might not happen if he was hopped up on meth. The longer Nova stayed with him, the more chances the man might amp up toward violence against her. Storming in to surprise him could put Nova and the children in harm's way if he started shooting.

He needed to lure Jordan out.

Terry ran back a great distance to the covered sedan and smacked the driver's side door handle. The alarm screeched with a high-pitched series of annoying sounds. The car was too low to the ground for Terry to crawl under for a surprise attack. He hid behind a tree and waited for Jordan instead.

Sure as shit, Jordan arrived to check on the car and made sure there were no other campers showing up. He moved with caution, holding his gun out, ready to pop off rounds.

Although Jordan was a trained soldier, he was also an addict, so his warped mind might not have been too sharp. Terry hoped that was so. He lifted a medium-sized rock and threw it far past the river. It made a loud thunk about eighty yards away. Jordan slowly went to investigate the sound and waved his gun in every direction.

Terry waited until he was out of sight before he hastened to get into the treehouse. Jordan had switched all the lights off. He ran up the narrow, rickety stairs and burst into the dwelling.

Van-Van sat on a pallet next to Terrina's car seat. His baby slept quietly in it. Jordan had tied Nova to a chair with her arms behind her back. He jammed a sock in her mouth to keep her quiet. Terry held a finger to his lips for Van-Van to stay silent.

Pulling the sock from Nova's mouth, he worked on untying the rope. She whimpered in relief with tears pricking her eyes.

"How did you find us?" she whispered.

"The Airtags you put on the children. I found your phone and Nella showed me the tracking app."

"He's crazy, Terry."

"Listen to me, I want you to get Van-Van and we're going to escape in the trees to find my truck. I'm right behind you with the baby. Head west…that's straight past the fire pits outside."

She nodded and moved to grab her son the moment he freed her. He handed back her smartphone, and she dashed out of the treehouse carrying Van-Van down the stairs. Terry lifted his sleeping daughter in her car seat and hoped she wouldn't wake up.

He ran down six steps and Jordan glared at him from the bottom step with the barrel of the gun pointed at him. Terry exhaled a breath, gripping the handle of his baby girl's car seat tighter. He looked around for Nova and Van-Van.

"Don't worry about those two. This is about you," Jordan said.

Terry stared at him.

"Put her back inside," Jordan ordered.

"Jordan—"

BANG!

A bullet ripped through the step below Terry's feet.

"Put the fucking baby back inside the house," Jordan yelled, while slowly slithering up the steps.

"Alright…alright…stay calm."

Terry turned around and set Terrina's car seat in the doorway. A rustling in the forest distracted Jordan, and Terry grabbed his wrist and twisted it. Jordan's close quarter combat skills were still sharp, and he used a quick countermove that Terry trained him on to aim the gun under Terry's throat. He shot a round, but Terry had already deflected the weapon, and the bullet shot up into the night sky. They tussled and Terry tried to get his footing anchored on the steps to prevent a gunshot from striking his child. Both men crashed through the rotted railing of the stairs and landed with a hard thud on the crunchy fall leaves below in a fifteen foot freefall.

Terry blacked out for a minute.

He came to and noticed the shine of a rising moon and the faint twinkle of stars appearing in the sky. He groaned and rolled over, shaking his head. Nothing felt broken, but his side was going to hurt later. He glanced at the top of the stairs.

No car seat.

Jumping up, he caught the fading sound of running feet and he chased it down. Adrenaline took over, and he pushed away any fear he had for his daughter. He had to stay focused on catching Jordan. Fear would kill his mind and prevent him from thinking rationally in his pursuit.

He heard a splash and sprinted full force toward the sound.

Jordan stood at the edge of the river, looking down into the dark, swirling waters.

Terrina's car seat floated upside down in the frigid water, and her little blanket snagged on a large jagged rock that jutted out before being swept away by the fast-moving current.

"What did you do, Jordan? What did you fucking do!?"

Terry splashed into the freezing water waist-deep and grabbed the car seat. No Terrina.

"Now you and Nova have no connection anymore," Jordan said in the coldest, most frightening tone Terry had ever heard in his life.

"Noooo!" Terry screamed.

He charged further into the water.

"Terrina! Terrina!" he screamed.

His heart rose into his throat and he tripped over slippery rocks, hitting his hand in the icy river, searching for his baby. He pulled out his flashlight and put it on bright white, aiming it downriver.

She was gone.

A splintery, raw rage surged out of him, and he flew at Jordan, slamming him to the ground. He punched him over and over, breaking his nose and fracturing his cheekbone. His knuckles split open and bled, mingling with the bloody horror he made of Jordon's face.

"She was just a baby, you fucking murderer! You could've just killed me…you should've killed me, you fucking bastard!"

Moonlight illuminated Jordan's hateful face. Blood covered his teeth like shadowy black paint. He spit one out that Terry knocked loose.

"Now you know what it feels like to lose everything, T. How does it feel, nigga? How does it feel to have everything you love taken from you?"

"You never loved Nova!"

"You stole her from me…now I stole something from you. We can both be in hell together."

Jordan pulled out the gun and Terry snatched it from him, aiming the nozzle at the center of his forehead. The evil sneer on Jordon's face transformed into the hopeless countenance of a man who had nothing to live for anymore, and Terry didn't care. A life for a life.

The piercing wail of a frightened baby stopped Terry from squeezing the trigger. The cries came from behind a nearby tree. He emptied all the bullets from Jordan's weapon onto the ground and tossed the gun into a bush. Stumbling and feeling nauseous, Terry searched for his daughter.

He found Terrina lying at the foot of a live oak. Her tiny limbs squirmed in the cold and Terry lifted her in his arms. He unzipped his jacket and placed her against the warmth of his chest. Her hair and body were damp and smelled of river water.

"I got you baby girl, daddy's here…oh, I know… that wicked man scared you so much…"

Terry wept, the relief washing over him as he held his baby. Had she not been alive, he would've killed Jordan and thrown his body into the river.

"Terry! Terry!"

Nova's voice broke over the sound of Terrina's whimpers.

She wasn't alone. Nella, Titus and Michelle were with her, along with two police officers.

Nova grabbed a hold of him and he gave her the baby, pulling off his jacket to wrap around her.

"We gotta get her warmed up," he said.

He showed the officers where Jordan was located, and they lifted him up, pulling him away. A distressed Michelle followed them with Titus.

"I had to call them after you left, Terry," Nella said.

She patted his back and hugged Nova. They all walked back to his truck. Two police cruisers awaited them. After handcuffing Jordan, the officers put him in the back of a cruiser and questioned Terry.

He tried to answer, but his eyes stayed on Nova. She held their little one in the passenger seat of his truck. Van-Van peered at him from the back window, safely buckled into his car seat. Terrina's head rested on Nova's neck, her eyes closed in a safe slumber, wrapped in a warm blanket.

He told the police where to find Jordan's gun. There would still be traces of Nella's blood on it. Terry took one last look at Jordan. The man rested his bruised and bloodied face against the window of the cop car and stared at Nova and Terrina. He would do some serious prison time. Assault and kidnapping charges loomed over his head.

Van-Van and Terrina would probably be grown adults by the time he ever got out.

It took a week of police statement interviews and the coming together of the Pattersons and Eastons rallying around Nova that finally freed them from that terrible night on the Edisto River. Jordan didn't fight the charges, but because of South Carolina law, Nova would have to fly back to Charleston and testify, anyway. That court case was a long way off. When asked why he took Nova to the treehouse, Jordan told his parents that it was the place where he and Nova had shared fond memories in the past. It was where they fell in love as teenagers and he longed to bring her back to that time and away from Terry.

One thing bothered Terry, though.

During his interrogation, Jordan admitted to tossing Terrina in the water strapped to her car seat out of anger and jealousy. But he didn't remember pulling her out and placing her by the tree. His public defender had the confession stricken from the record since Terry found the baby unharmed under the oak tree. Perhaps Jordan's rational mind fought against the nefarious intentions and saved the baby from certain death. Either way, Jordan's lawyer could use it as part of his defense. The meth made him hallucinate…or something of that nature.

The Walker clan treated Terry like a hero. Even the old lady trio from the couch wept their thanks for saving Nova and the babies, hugging him and slipping peppermint candies into his hand from their purses. Brielle and Nella preened, feeling good that their niece was in excellent hands with him.

Uncle Pete came down from his lofty, hypocritical heights and shook Terry's hand at a family dinner to see them off finally. When Terry took some time to look at the blue bottle tree, Mawmaw walked outside with him without her walker. She had replaced the two broken glass bottles with new, clear ones.

"Dis bottle tree, Terry…been standing since 1943. My daddy put it up to replace the one him mama put up after the flood of 1908…my own Mawmaw. Not one time has a bottle fell down and broke…not 'til dat day Jordan grab my grandbaby and her chirren. Signs and wonders are real, una hear me?"

"I do."

"My great-grandbaby came in my house smellin' like black water. Dat man threw her in. But somethin' else brought her back out."

"The cymbee?" he said, wearing a half smile on his face.

"Not s'posed to say they name out loud," she said, with a sly grin.

She patted his arm.

"Una no longer a comeya…una beenya now. One of my people here."

"Thank you," he said.

He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Had the original bottles broken to warn him of trouble? Did some captured spirit from long ago feel sorry for him and dared to burst free to get his attention? He easily could've walked into the house and thought everyone was out taking care of family business and slept through the ordeal. As for an African-rooted Gullah river spirit plucking Terrina out of dangerous waters…he didn't care if it happened or not. His daughter was alive and well.

Terry glanced over at Nova, sleeping in the passenger side of his truck. He'd driven for five hours after a pit stop to change Terrina's diaper and help Van-Van change his pull-ups. Glancing in the rearview, both children were fast asleep. Terrina's car seat had a giant satin red ribbon tied on it. They stopped at a Target and bought Van-Van a little red bowtie to wear for his debut. In thirty minutes, they would arrive at his parent's house, and his mother kept texting for ETA confirmation every fifteen minutes once he crossed over into Louisiana.

"Babe, we're here," he whispered, tapping Nova's thigh.

She opened her eyes and checked her face in the vanity mirror.

"I swear we were just at that gas station," she said.

"You were knocked out. Ready?"

"Yeah."

He drove the truck into the driveway. His father had moved their giant RV onto the street so he could keep the truck and U-Haul on their property. He barely switched off the engine before his parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins poured out of the house to greet them.

His mother was already crying again while his father waved and waited anxiously for them to get out of the truck.

"You take her," Nova said.

He climbed out of his seat and hugged his mother first, then his father. His family swarmed around Nova, showering her with hugs and kisses…so much love. Their embrace of her filled him with comfort. She looked so pretty. Back at their pit stop, she changed into a forest green empire waist dress. A white headband pushed back her hair because she didn't know what to do with it since it had grown out.

His mother held Nova's face and poured a ton of affection into her. He watched his true love lift Van-Van out first and his family spoiled him with compliments on his bowtie. While the family fussed over Van-Van, he slipped around the truck and pulled Terrina out.

Tonette held her hand over her mouth and cried again. Gordon stepped forward and admired his granddaughter.

"Look at that…will ya'll just look at that?" he kept saying.

Tonette touched the pretty red bow and then Nova helped him unfasten Terrina from the car seat.

"Here she is, Mrs. Richmond," Nova said.

"Call me Mama or Momo like my nieces and nephews, baby…oh, Lord…look what you brought into the world."

Tonette cradled Terrina and fawned over her.

"Look at my grandbaby, Janice!" Tonette said.

Terry's Aunt Janice grinned and touched Terrina's covered foot.

"Let's get them inside. It's chilly out here. Nova, honey, come on inside. Let Terry get your bags and stuff," Tonette said.

"I got the bags…Mike, Clint, y'all help me get their things," Gordon said.

Terry hugged his favorite cousin, Mike, and then unlocked the truck bed cover. They all made two trips and Gordon set them up in his old bedroom. The room hadn't changed since his college days. Big queen-sized bed. An old orange loveseat that once belonged to his maternal grandmother and faced his old flat screen TV. Their bags took up a lot of space, but his mother had set up his sister's old bedroom into a nursery for Van-Van and Terrina.

"You can put the portable crib over there, and Van-Van will get his own bed," Tonette enthused.

Nova and Terry stared at each other. They hadn't slept in a room alone together since the last time they made love and conceived Terrina. He noticed a flicker of excitement in Nova's eyes. Alone time in a bed with a house full of adults who were dying to look after Terrina and Van-Van? God was good. All the time.

Terrina became alert and anxious by all the attention from new family faces. Van-Van was the opposite. He thrived under the adoration.

Tonette guided Nova into the spacious livingroom. His maternal grandparents waited for them there.

"Sit, Nova, relax," Gordon said.

"Babe, these are my mother's parents… my grandfather Arneux LeBlanc and my grandmother Jessie-Belle," he said.

Arneux had slicked his hair back with heavily scented pomade for the occasion, the long silver waves reaching to his shoulders. Jessie-Belle twisted her graying brown hair into a stylish chignon. Nova stared into his grandmother's bright green eyes and smiled, recognizing Terrina's family heirloom in genetics.

"So happy to see you, Nova," Jessie-Belle said.

She gave Nova a hug, and Arneux did the same.

Nova didn't know what to do with herself. His family treated her like a queen. He told her that would happen. She wouldn't need to lift a finger and just take in the experience of meeting his family.

Tonette handed Terrina to her mother Jessie-Belle and the brand new great-grandmother cooed with Arneux over the tiny addition to their family. Jessie-Belle touched Terrina's earlobes.

"Oh, her color is going to come in nice and deep…Bear, she's going to be your pretty brown skin tone. Watch and see."

Jessie-Belle looked at Arneux—Bear—and grinned.

"Now who is this gorgeous little fellow right here?" Jessie-Belle said, looking at Van-Van.

"I'm Van-Van!"

"You're my new great-grandson."

Van-Van grinned while staring into Jessie-Belle's eyes. The boy reached for Terry's hand and held it.

"Come sit next to me, young man. Let me get a good look at you," Arneux said.

Van-Van touched his lips and looked up at Terry.

"Do you want to sit?" Terry asked him.

Van-Van nodded enthusiastically. Terry released his hand, and the boy streaked to Arneux like a rocket.

"Lookin' like his mama," Jessie-Belle said.

The relatives gently passed Terrina around for an hour, then Nova slipped away to his bedroom to feed her. Van-Van entertained everyone else with his chatter, and Terry's parents relished that time, beaming from head to toe. He chatted with Mike and seeing his cousin so animated made him happy. Mike had plans to stay with Terry's brother in New York and try his hand at a culinary school there.

Terry joined Nova in his room and closed the door. She sat on the loveseat and lowered the top of her dress. He watched her feed Terrina before ducking into the next room to put together her portable crib and set up the baby monitor. A peek at his watch revealed the time for Van-Van to nap. He wondered if his son could handle sleeping by himself in his new auntie's old room.

Son.

Terry grinned. Hadn't he always treated Van-Van like he was his own, even before he was born? There was no need to call him stepson or bonus child. The boy was now his. He earned the right to claim him as his own.

Sitting on his sister's bed, he wondered what he and Nova would tell Van-Van about his biological father. The boy didn't seem traumatized by the kidnapping. Perhaps it was because he knew Jordan. It wasn't some random stranger that grabbed them from the street.

"Terry…"

Nova's voice came through the baby monitor.

He went back to his room and lifted Terrina from her mother's arms and walked her into the new children's room. Putting the baby down and covering her with soft lavender blankets, Terry pondered his new life. He had everything a man could want. Maintaining that lucky gift reinforced the responsibility he had as a man to keep his ducks lined up in a row of stability. Nova needed that. The children needed that.

Nova walked into the room with Van-Van who rubbed his eyes. Terry helped take off the boy's shoes and pulled back the covers on the bed.

"I'll stay with him until he falls asleep," Nova said.

"You go rest in our room afterward, okay? I'll join you there in a bit," he said.

He headed back to the living room and caught up with his parents, who gushed over Nova and their children. They made plans to go to Yazoo for Thanksgiving so Terry's paternal grandparents could meet his family and then his siblings planned to return to Cypress Bend for Christmas. His mother insisted that he go take a nap from their long journey. He took a shower first.

The house already smelled like good food, and he knew dinner was going to be amazing, especially with his mother and aunties running the kitchen. Back in his room, Nova was already in the bed resting with the TV on.

"She was really hungry and fell asleep fast, huh?" Nova said.

"That means she'll be out for a few hours. How did Van-Van do?"

"I'm surprised. I thought he would whine about being left by himself, but he fell asleep as soon as he crawled in the bed. The trip and all the new people tired him out. I turned the monitor low."

He sat down on the loveseat and finished drying his hair with a fluffy towel.

"Gotta get this shit cut, starting to get long," he said.

He ran a hand over the waves that were curling. Nova climbed out of the bed and sat next to him. She had changed into a form-fitting T-shirt and sleeper shorts. Her soft fingers rubbed on his scalp, feeling his curls.

"I looked at your football pictures. Your hair was so cute longer," she said.

He glanced at the dresser with the photos on top.

"Yep, used to rock braids, a messy 'fro…all the styles."

He grinned and patted her thigh.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I used to wish I could have a girl in my room when I lived here. I'm laughing because eighteen-year-old me would've given anything to have a fine ass woman on this old couch."

"Oh, yeah?"

She stroked the side of his neck and tendrils of pleasure cascaded down his throat.

"What would you have done back then?" she purred.

The shine of arousal danced provocatively in her eyes. He leaned over and kissed her…really kissed her. His tongued sought reciprocity, and she gave it, matching his energy. Their mouths watered with the joy of connecting romantically again. They spent six weeks raising babies and waiting on court matters cramped in a hotel room without any privacy. Now they had it. She sucked on his tongue slowly, lavishing his mouth with a tenderness he yearned for. His dick slowly plumped up. He pulled off his shirt and his sweatpants. She took off her shirt and shorts. They each took a moment to look at each other's bodies, marveling at the complementary nature of curves and hard muscles, soft heavy breasts, and solid thighs built for fat asses, with huge biceps ready to lift. He kissed her again without touching her, entwining their tongues and listening to the soft moans they released. His big, fluffy lips enveloped hers and she groaned his name.

He looked down at his dick. The firmness highlighted the girth, and his tip leaked pre-cum. Staring at her tits aroused him even more. Their weight and mass made his dick spit out more pre-cum. He couldn't stop staring at her areolas. Had they gotten bigger? Stretched wider because she was full of milk? He palmed one of them and Nova reached for his dick and slowly moved her hand up and down, just under the ridge.

Squeezing her tits after a long absence of doing so almost made him come unhinged. Those big ass titties belonged to him. Those thick thighs? His. That little pot belly from where Terrina stretched the skin and left faint tiger stripe marks on her mama? All his. The part at the apex of her thighs where he could see the pink of her pussy? Fuck yeah…all his. He licked his fingers and gently touched her vulva, lettings his digits brush across her clit. Nova hissed and her back pressed into the loveseat. He explored her labia carefully, enjoying the slippery feel of her arousal wetting his fingers. Her pubic hairs curled with the dampness she spewed and he finally touched the opening of her vagina.

He dropped to his knees and ran his lips down her vulva, giving it a sweet kiss of thanks. He continued kissing her vulva before parting her inner labia with his tongue. Staring at the entrance of what he considered holy, he worshipped that space. It gave him pleasure. Gave him a child. It comforted him long ago when they were forbidden lovers. They didn't have to hide their love anymore. He was hers forever, and as long as she would have him, he swore allegiance to her for the rest of his life and the life after that…and the life after that one.

Joining her back on the loveseat, he played with her breasts again and kissed her wanton lips. She stroked his dick, teasing the hardness and whispered how much she loved him into his shameless mouth. Lowering his head, he sucked on her tits, stretching his mouth around each breast, and groaning into the flesh as her skilled hand jerked him off to the point of Terry grunting her name into a stiff nipple.

He leaned back and used two fingers to tease her plump clit. Their mutual masturbation of each other side by side was the hottest thing to happen to him in a year. He'd remained celibate after Nova left him. Even porn bored him because there wasn't anything as exciting as the woman he loved stroking his dick. He wished they had made sexy vids of their lovemaking back then, but he couldn't take a chance of Jordan finding anything incriminating on Nova's phone.

"Fuck! Look at these big tits! Nova…baby…fuck…you know what you're doing to me…."

Her lips poked out with what he called her pleasure face. That shit always turned him on because it meant he was getting to her. She said his eyes and the dominating way he owned her body always got to her. When he added the deep baritone by talking her through sex…she became a limp noodle every time. He knew he was always intense during sex. All of his previous partners had told him that and it was why he never ran out of women to choose from before Nova.

They both listened to the slippery sounds coming from her labia and the entrance of her pussy. She shook her tits, and he watched them entice him further into the deep zone. His balls throbbed, and those breasts kept jiggling from her deliberate movement.

She was the best. Just the visual of her spread out like that on his loveseat sent his former teenaged self into a tizzy. He kept gently playing with her clit, never venturing to insert any fingers into her. That moment would be for another time. Right now, he was relearning his woman. Reclaiming his rightful place as her man giving her pleasure.

She smeared the new leaking of pre-cum all around his slit with her thumb and hit a super sensitive spot just under his frenulum that made him jump. He let out a whimper in a tone that was brand new to him. They both laughed at the sound, and he kissed her, delighted that there were new ways she could titillate and surprise him with her touch. Lips glued together, shoulders touching, arms outstretched toward the other, they traversed every contour, scouted fresh territory on their tingly skin, sparked sensuality by gazing at one another as their touching inflamed their desire for each other. She palmed his balls next. His sack nearly filled her hand. She squeezed, and the pressure shot a zinger of pleasure through his dick. He watched her tits and his lips parted, eyes narrowed…his dick needed to be inside of her, spilling into her again. His eyes tracked all over from her face to her breasts to her pussy. He gasped and moaned low in his throat, trying to control the surge ready to gush out. Her slick fingers rubbed all over the shiny knob of his tip and he jammed his heels into the carpet.

"I know you like that, huh, baby? Playing with this big dick in my hand?" she whispered.

She knew his weakness. Catering to his ego by talking to him about his prowess. He did have a big dick. Her hand could barely control it. So hot and heavy in her grasp.

"Can I sit on it later? I don't know if it'll all fit…last time, it barely did. Remember? I had to use so much lube…you stretched my pussy so wide…ooh baby…remember what you did to my pussy?"

His tip spilled out a sticky stream of clear fluid that dripped down her fingers like morning dew. She hit that spot again under his ridge and he groaned her name. All she had to do was crawl on top of him and drop that wet pussy on his dick, and he would explode. She kept talking and telling him how good he was and he ate it all up like a giant cat spoiled with endless catnip. He didn't trust his voice to talk back to her with any coherence. Listening to her, watching those bountiful breasts, touching her clit and feeling his dick get fisted by her soft hand overstimulated his brain. It became an overload of sensory pleasure.

He teased her clit mercilessly with lazy, untrustworthy caresses. She never knew what his fingers would do next, and that edging rolled her eyes back. Soft pants spilled out of her mouth that he liked to hear. Her pussy lips throbbed after a long, languorous fingering. The expression on her aroused face pleased him.

"I'm cumming…." she panted.

He moaned, watching her.

Her orgasm spilled out in contractions that made the lower half of her vulva move with visible throbs. Nova had a deep pussy, so he already knew if he were inside of her, his dick would've been milked with divine pulses. She made the entire encounter sexier by holding a hand over her mouth as she came, shielding the room from her normal loud cries of ecstasy.

Leaping to his feet, Terry stroked his dick in front of her, lowering his body so that his dick lined up with her tits. Her body still shook from her release, but he could only focus on his pleasure now. His balls rose closer to his body, and he gasped as a thick nut splashed onto her tits.

"I couldn't hold it, baby," he whimpered.

His sphincter muscle screamed from the force of his ejaculation. Cum shot out again all over her chest and dripped everywhere.

"Fuck…fuck…fuck…" he whispered.

He rose and a final load shot onto her lips.

Standing back, he stared at his future wife, and his dick stayed firm from the sight. Covered in his creamy white semen, her legs spread wide, showing him all that pretty pink pussy, Terry knew he was in for some problems. He was going to have to make a lot of money somehow, because the urge to get Nova pregnant again weighed heavily in his nutsack. He didn't know where the breeding kink came from. Not every woman brought that need out of him in sexual encounters, but the ones that did…dear God.

Nova tried to sit there all demure, as if being drenched in cum was her right as his woman. It was, actually. Back when they were sneaking around, the sex was provocative and illicit, of course, but part of the thrill was cumming all over her. Another man's woman let him nut in her mouth, inside her pussy, and all over her breasts. His dick used to get hard just thinking about covering her in semen and watching it turn clear on her silky skin, knowing he would send her home smelling like great sex. He had a feeling that the urge would warp into something body quaking since they could be out in the open from now on. He took the woman he wanted. Put a baby in her to seal the union forever. Wrong or right, that shit got him off, and he was always going to revel in that sexually.

He shoved his dick in her mouth, and Nova slurped and choked all over him like the good girl she was.

"Stand up," he said.

She did, and he made her bend over slightly so he could see her tits hang all fat and deliciously pendulous. He stroked his dick against her ass and her tits swayed and smacked together from her movement and he ejaculated on her ass. Yeah, they were going to have problems later. He was definitely fucking her and cumming in that pussy when he had the chance. Cumming inside of Nova was everything. Watching her ride his dick while he did it made him feel invincible.

She cleaned herself with baby wipes and he dressed and snuck into the hall bathroom to bring her a warm hand towel to finish the job. He couldn't keep his hands off her ass or her breasts and she slapped them away before they got carried away, drawing attention from his family with the noise. She looked at his hands and held them. The wounds on his knuckles from beating Jordan were still healing. Nova kissed each one, her soft lips puckering and pressing into each laceration. She looked up at him with tears.

"Hey…baby…it's okay," he said.

She closed her eyes, remembering.

He wiped away her tears and kissed her eyelids.

"Nothing will ever hurt you again, understand?" he murmured into her lips.

She nodded, and they kissed, their tangled tongues promising better days ahead.

Nova fell in love with his family.

The trip to Yazoo for Thanksgiving was a blast and once they were back in Louisiana prepping for Christmas, his parents and close kin felt like she had always been a part of them. Everyone showered their children with affection, and Nova finally rested, as she had longed to do since Terrina's birth.

Gordon became an expert at waking up for early a.m. feedings, giving Terry and Nova time to sleep a full eight hours. A retired grandfather eager to pamper his first grandbaby was a godsend. Tonette held down her end of the schedule in between her hours doing part-time medical billing in his older brother's old bedroom that she converted into a home office. She took on more hours before Christmas to make a little extra holiday money to splurge on her new grandbabies.

Nova helped him decorate the room addition that was built on the back of the house and used as a game room and extra bedroom when guests overflowed. Expecting a large holiday gathering, the Richmond clan stacked and readied cots and blow-up beds among the Christmas decorations. He showed Nova the pool table he learned to play on and they played a few rounds in between feedings and shopping.

Tonette hung extra large holiday stockings across the fireplace mantle with everyone's name sewn into them. She and Nova decorated the live Christmas tree with fake snow spray and then added mauve and mulberry colored ornaments. Terry lifted Van-Van to help put a golden star at the top.

"Aw, perfect!" Tonette said. Van-Van clapped his hands.

Terry later chopped up a stack of wood with an axe in the backyard as his father enlisted the help of Van-Van to help water his winter garden of cabbage and mustard greens. They gave the boy a small watering can that was used for the house plants to help water the fat cabbages and leafy greens ready for Christmas dinner picking.

Terry and Tonette left Nova and Van-Van with Gordon at the house while they snuck away to do some Christmas shopping with the baby. He walked around a giant shopping center, the biggest one in Cypress Bend, carrying Terrina wrapped on his chest.

"Mama, I'm going to ask Nova to marry me," he said inside a food court.

Shopping bags sat spread around his mother's legs as they ate Panda Express inside a luxury mall. Tonette slurped a chow mein noodle and forked a juicy piece of orange chicken.

"When?" she asked.

"Christmas Eve. After caroling with the family."

"In front of everyone?"

"Yes."

Tonette pushed up her glasses on her nose.

"Jaybird, I dunno…I saw some TikTok videos the other day with women saying they don't like public acts of proposals anymore. It puts a lot of pressure on them."

"Since when have you been using TikTok?"

"Your dad has an account. He posts his gardening tips. Sometimes I watch them to help give him comments for the algorithm."

He grinned.

"Does she know of your intentions? I mean, is that something you two have spoken about?"

"I told her father I wanted to marry her…right in front of her, back in Charleston."

"How did she react?"

"She looked happy, Mama. Really happy."

"You really adore her, huh?"

"I do. I'd been living a good life until she came along. But now, she's made my world richer by having her beside me. The children are everything to me."

"Do you feel any pressure about that? An instant family?"

He sipped on his iced tea and rubbed Terrina's back. His baby had grown so much in three months. She could hold her head up and started trying to crawl. Mastering coordination was funny to watch, and he got a kick out of her squirming all her limbs like a turtle on her belly when they placed her on a blanket on the living room floor. Van-Van would squat in front of her and call her name, encouraging her to crawl. They weren't quite there yet, but her legs and arms were strong.

"I don't even worry about that, honestly. Having Nova and the kids kinda makes me feel like a grown-up finally. That's weird, huh?"

"No, Jaybird. It isn't. But it is an enormous responsibility to step into so soon when you weren't expecting it."

Tonette gazed at him with loving eyes.

"Her parents will be here tomorrow. I had hoped they would stay with us at the house," she said.

"Nova told them about the spa tub at the Hyatt. I think this trip is a second honeymoon for them, so they want privacy."

"It was nice of you to invite them here. Spend Terrina's first Christmas together."

"It's been rough for them dealing with Jordan's mess."

Tonette nodded her head.

"Poor Nova. The hell that man put her through. And you."

Tonette reached across the table and touched his hand.

"All you and Nova can do is love on each other and take care of those babies."

Terrina sneezed, and Terry looked down at her face. Her bright eyes stared up at him and she grinned a toothless smile.

"Hey Rina, Rina," he teased.

He kissed her cheek with a loud smack and she squealed, bursting into infectious chuckles that made Tonette laugh, too.

"You and Nova made a beautiful little girl. I don't know if y'all could've made her any cuter. Like a lil round ladybug…that's my grandbaby…hey, Terrina."

"We better head back," he said.

"I think we bought out the entire mall."

"We've made enough trips to the car with bags today. I should think so."

They threw away their food containers and stuck their meal trays on top of a trash receptacle.

"Lemme, go past the eye glasses place one more time to look at those frames," she said.

"Mama, if you want the Gucci frames, get them."

"No…I just wanna look, that's all."

Tonette carried the last of their shopping bags and he helped by carrying two. They passed by several shops and it tickled him to observe his mother's yearning to buy more things, but pretending she was only window shopping.

"Terry? Terry Richmond."

He turned his head and spotted two women he went to highschool with, Phyllis and Stacey. He gave them side hugs and showed off his baby. They both had been cheerleaders when he played football for their school with Von. He caught them up on his life in California, and Stacey kept looking at his daughter with wistful eyes. She had been his junior prom date so long ago, and although they dated briefly in their senior year for a month, he just wasn't into her like she was into him. The two women shared photos of their children and husbands, and he whipped out his phone to show them pictures of Nova and Van-Van.

Tonette watched the interaction with amusement and when they carried on their merry little way to her car, she side-eyed him.

"Stacey looked happy to see you again."

"It was good seeing her. Time just flies on by."

"She used to call the house to say hi from time to time before she got married…always asked about you after you left for the marines."

"I'm sure she did."

"You ever wonder what it would've been like had you stayed here? Settled down with someone like her?"

"Stacey was cute. Nice girl. But, nah. Had I done that, I wouldn't have this special girl."

He bounced Terrina in his arms before putting her in the car seat in the back of his mother's Cadillac SUV. Tonette tickled Terrina's chin.

"Look at my sweet Ladybug!"

Terrina giggled.

"Mama, you always give everybody a nickname."

"My mother did it. It's hereditary."

"What do you call, Van-Van?"

"My Roly-Poly because he's always rolling all over the ground like a pill bug in your daddy's garden."

"Nova?"

"Queenie, because you bend over backwards for her…as you should. Huh, Ladybug? Your mama is a queen because she gave me a lil princess like you."

Tonette kissed Terrina's cheek and his daughter gurgled and slobbered her joy at all the attention.

His mother drove them back to the house. Nova stood on the porch holding a large registered mail envelope. Her face looked pensive. He handed Terrina to his mother.

"Mama, I'll bring in all the shopping bags in a minute," he said.

Tonette glanced at Nova's face for a quick second and took the baby into the house.

The chill of the winter air froze their breath in puffs of condensation. It had rained earlier.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

His stomach churned. She handed him the large envelope.

He reached in and pulled out another smaller envelope with a court document inside. Opening that one, he read the contents, and cracked a huge smile.

"Your divorce is finalized. You're free," he said.

She nodded and he hugged her.

"Ah, baby, you had me worried."

She sniffled.

"I kept waiting and hoping. Nella sent it priority, and I had to sign for it to make sure it got here. I just…it's finally over."

"Just in time for Christmas."

He hugged her again and closed his eyes.

"Thank you, God," he whispered to himself.

On Christmas Eve, Tonette cooked their own Creole version of shrimp and grits. She showed Nova her secret of using pancetta instead of bacon in her roux for the shrimp. So many relatives stuffed the house that Terry lost count and just flowed with everyone there. His cousin Mike and his brother Dean kept sneaking him shots of rum to cope with having future in-laws in the mix.

The Eastons blended in and it made Nova so happy that Titus and Gordon shared a love of gardening and spent most of their time outside discussing weed killers and the best garden soil. Pauletta fell right in with his Aunt Janice and they were already tipsy from drinking spiked egg nog and eating chocolate rum balls rolled in coconut that his grandmother Jessie-Belle made for all the adults.

Nova couldn't get over the size difference between himself and his siblings. His sister Sage was average-sized like his brother Dean, and she giggled when Tonette took pictures of the three of them in the backyard.

Terry towered over everybody. Dean had Nova laughing every time he was around her in the kitchen, and his sister would not put Terrina down. The baby lived on her right hip. Van-Van was in seventh heaven with all the little cousins under five who ran around with him in the game room where his grandparents supervised them with a few other older aunties on childcare duty while they sipped a little liquor. The teenagers lived in the den playing Mario Kart and arguing over losses and wins.

The house was festive and full of warmth and love. His parents tended to over-do it with the holidays, so he and his siblings chipped in to pay for all the food and libations for everyone.

"Nova, try my Christmas cheesy bread while it's hot!" Tonette said.

His mother placed a ceramic platter on the dining table next to the chilled oysters, fancy chocolate candies, and champagne bottles. Two large crock pots filled with grits and the shrimp roux warmed up on the dining table, too. There'd be a couple of Creole pecan glazed hams and a brisket for the main courses later that night. Southern fried cabbage with spicy andouille sausage. Mustard greens with smoked turkey. Dean helped prepare most of the food in the kitchen as a professional chef. He dashed off to make the mac' n cheese and candied purple sweet potatoes with Mike's help. The Richmonds partied hard on Christmas Eve. They reserved Christmas day for opening gifts and recuperating from the night before.

Nova pulled a piece of bread from the top of the Christmas tree shape. His mother sprinkled pomegranate seeds, seasoning, and fresh rosemary needles on it.

"Good, huh?" Tonette said.

Nova nodded enthusiastically. His mother touched her hair.

"I'm so happy that light pressing I gave you turned out so cute. Do you like it?" Tonette asked.

"I love it. I had the hardest time figuring out how to style it now that it's in that in-between stage of growth, y'know?"

"Honey, a good bob will always fix everything!"

Nova shook her hair. It was down past her ears. He had to smell burning hair early that morning in the kitchen as Nova sat in a chair and let his mama do her thing.

Terry glanced around the livingroom where most of the family had gathered for the caroling. Dressed in the finest fits to match the holiday atmosphere, the Richmonds and the Eastons showed out. A fire crackled in the fireplace behind a glass gate and the house smelled of savory foods. Donny Hathaway's "This Christmas" played softly on the sound system and everything felt…right.

He stared at Nova.

She ate cheesy bread and chatted with his mother. Her Christmas Eve dress shined a delightful Christmas shade of green with red trim along the off the shoulder décolletage. The red heels on her feet lifted her a few inches taller, and she looked angelic. His sister joined them carrying Terrina, who they dressed in a little Santa's Helper outfit. Van-Van and the other little ones ran through the living room chasing Gordon, who donned a Santa Claus suit and carried a big red bag filled with gifts for all of them. Minutes later, they all heard Van-Van crying in the den. Terry went to investigate and all the children surrounded his seven-year-old cousin, Jennifer, on the floor. Her hand rested on the crank of a Jack-in-the-box toy.

"The clown scared him," Jennifer said.

Van-Van stood next to her wailing and pointing at the goofy-looking bobble head on a spring that bounced around. Terry lifted him up and carried him back to the living room where the boy's crying transferred to Terrina. She stared at her brother and burst out crying, too.

"Uh, oh, we have a pity party," Nova said.

Terry rocked Van-Van and rubbed on his back, soothing his cries and whispering to him until the cries broke down into whimpers.

"I don't like that toy," Van-Van huffed.

"I know. It popped out when you weren't expecting it," Terry said.

Jennifer and the other children ran out to check on their weeping cousin.

"Sorry Van-Van, we'll play with something else," Jennifer said.

"You want to go back with them?"

Van-Van looked unsure. He looked down at his sister crying and wiggled in Terry's arms to be put down.

"Don't cry Rina…I feel better," Van-Van said, wiping his eyes.

He pressed his lips onto his sister's cheek, and Nova cradled his chin.

"You're being a good big brother checking on your sister," she said.

Van-Van glanced at the other children and ambled back to them. They all cheered for him and he grinned, with two tears still shining on his cheek. A second later, they ran off like a wolf pack, whooping it up and off to some new adventure. Crisis averted.

"Hey, everybody, time to gather around in five minutes," Tonette said.

Terry's stomach dropped. He rushed to the guest bathroom down the hall. His brother noticed the panic in his eyes and followed him.

"What's wrong, Terry?"

"I'm going to ask Nova to marry me."

Dean's mouth dropped open.

"Now?"

"Before we eat."

He pushed open the bathroom door and Dean closed it behind them.

"Why the scary face?"

Dean stared at him as Terry glanced at his own reflection. The color seemed to drain from his face as his heart sped up. His brother grabbed his hands.

"Hey…baby brother…relax. You got this. Breathe."

He took a deep breath and pressed his hands on the sink, lowering his head to help ease his anxiety.

"I don't want to mess this up," he said.

"How can you mess up asking the woman you love to be your wife? Have you looked at her today? Every time you walk near her, she's grinning in your face. She got it bad for you, man."

"She's been through so much…I don't want to disappoint her."

"Disappoint her how? You drove across the country and saved her from an unpleasant situation. She's about to be posted up in an oceanfront condo in California. You got the Richmond good looks and passed them down to your baby. Your career is where you want it and you can support a family. You're head over heels for her. Tighten up!"

Dean rubbed his shoulder.

Terry stared at his reflection. His brother was right.

"C'mon, bring it in," Dean said.

He held out his arms toward Terry for an embrace. They hugged.

"Hit another shot of whiskey…better yet, ask Grandpa for a shot of his moonshine. He got some hidden under the kitchen sink. Liquid courage will smooth the jitters out. Wait here, I'll go get you a shot glass of it," Dean said.

His brother left the bathroom and Terry concentrated on a sunny beach far away in the Caribbean somewhere and calmed his mind. Dean returned two minutes later with a pineapple-shaped shot glass bought from Honolulu, Hawaii.

"Here ya go. Toss it back."

Terry wasted no time drinking the fiery liquid that burned down his throat and fired up his chest. He squinted and twisted his lips from the aftertaste.

"Shit tastes like kerosene and Satan's foot," Terry choked out.

He coughed, and Dean pounded his back.

"That means the magic is working. Let's go sing!"

They returned to the living room just in time to greet Von and Bethany, who arrived with their two little girls. Bethany hugged Nova tight and gushed over the baby. Von hugged Terry, making him feel more confident about what would happen later when he approached Nova for her hand.

"Man, we had to take our time getting on this side. It started snowing," Von said.

Everyone rushed to the windows and stepped outside to watch the rare sight in Cypress Bend of hard rain freezing into snowflakes that fell quietly from the sky like a whisper. The snow already covered a thin layer of the ground. All the children squealed as puffy white clouds blanketed the sky, making Terry feel like his family was inside a giant snow globe. The twinkling of the Christmas lights on the house added a romantic feeling. He put an arm around Nova and Terrina. Titus held Van-Van's hand and his son stared at the winter wonderland before him.

"That's snow, Van-Van," Terry said.

Delighted, Van-Van raised his hands and tiny flakes fell into his palms and melted, making him giggle with delight.

"Singing first, snow later," Tonette said, clapping her hands for everyone to come back inside.

Folks settled into the livingroom. Terry helped pass out homemade song books they'd used since he was a child that contained all the Christmas songs they liked to sing together as a family. Nova put on her new red baby feeding wrap and took Terrina from Sage's arms to feed her on an armchair discreetly. Terry stood next to her proudly, knowing his extended family watched them together with cheerful smiles and twinkling eyes. He was a family man now.

Mike and Dean helped pass out the filled champagne flutes and his aunties and mother offered the freshly chilled oysters with Champagne mignonette sauce and assorted chocolate bites to those who wanted them before they started caroling. Dean prepared hot apple cider with cinnamon, to warm up hands from the cold outside, too.

"You look so handsome," Bethany said, admiring his dark suit and holiday red tie with candy canes all over it.

She hugged him tight and whispered in his ear.

"I'm happy for you. Terrina is such a cutie and Nova looks radiant."

He grinned. Knowing he had Bethany and Von in his corner out in Oceanside invigorated him. Nova would have a friend and confidante in her, and she'd know that Von didn't play with men not living up to their roles as husbands. They would both have role models close by that they admired to guide them on their journey.

Aunt Janice directed everyone like they were a choir after everyone took their places and started belting out Christmas classics, and Pauletta looked impressed with how his rich baritone enhanced the singing. Dean was the show off and added all the runs, and his sister Sage kept the higher harmonies in check. Nova's father sang off-key during "Deck the Halls". Pauletta and Tonette kept laughing next to each other as Janice tried to help him out on the Fa-la-la-la-la's. The house sounded glorious with the singing, especially when his sister and cousins added the soul of Blackness to the songs. It was a rollicking good time, and he was grateful the Easton's enjoyed every moment. As they wound down after an hour, Tonette waved her hand at Terry.

"Jaybird, you and Junebug sing 'Silent Night' with Mouse and Boss Man," she said. "Sing for my Ladybug."

Terry gathered his brother Dean, his cousin Mike, and Von in front of the fireplace.

"Sing it like ya do in church," Grandma Jessie-Belle said, sitting next to Grandpa Arneux.

Dean tuned them all up by singing the first two lines by himself, and then Terry joined his cousin and best friend in a quartet directed toward his daughter and Nova. She didn't know he could sing so well, and gazed at him with a dreamy glow on her face. Terrina heard her daddy's voice go lower in register and she bounced in her mama's lap, gurgling and looking up at him with her big green eyes.

They made the song truly holy and from the corner of his eyes, he noticed his mother and grandmother tearing up. Even Gordon's and Pauletta's eyes misted with appreciation.

"Y'all betta sing!" Bethany called out.

Their harmony together matched the a capella smoothness of "Boyz II Men" and it was a nice way to end the caroling session. Everyone exploded in applause afterward. He kissed Nova and lifted his baby girl in his arms.

"Did you like Daddy's singing?" he cooed, kissing her forehead.

Terrina reached for his nose and he kissed her fingers. His father, Gordon, still dressed as Santa, called all the kids to the center, even the teenagers.

"Time for Christmas stockings!" Gordon said.

He passed out stockings to all the youngsters, and they dug into the red felt and pulled out gift cards, small toys, candy, socks, and candy canes. The Temptations Christmas album played softly in the background as all the adults watched the children have fun. Van-Van was so excited. He showed everyone all the things packed into his stocking. Terry's parents spoiled him, making sure he had the best out of all the children. His mother's smile was so wide with pride. She snapped her fingers.

"Oh wait, the baby has a stocking, too!" Tonette said. "Jaybird, take it down from the fireplace. My Ladybug can't be left out."

Terry handed Terrina to Pauletta and reached for her stocking that hung above the fireplace next to his and where Van-Van's used to be. He handed it to Nova, who dug into it eagerly.

"Oh, how cute!" Nova said.

She pulled out baby socks with reindeers on them and immediately put them on Terrina's feet. There were baby hand toys and a headband with wiggly ladybug antennae on them. His father bought her a gold anklet with her name on it and there were little colorful barrettes for all the hair Terrina had on her head. Nova showed them to the baby, but Terrina was more interested in touching the bouncy antennae on the headband. Pauletta had to put it away because his daughter kept trying to put them in her mouth. Everyone loved the rolled up little blue shirt that said "Help! Call Grandpa, These Fools Don't Know What They're Doing!" Gordon fell over laughing with Titus.

"Show them the shirt I made for Ladybug!" Tonette insisted.

Nova pulled out another small purple shirt that said "Half Creole, Half Gullah, All Trouble"

Pauletta laughed, "I know that's right!"

Nova reached the bottom of the stocking and pulled out a small black velvet box.

Terry dropped on one knee in front of her.

The audible gasp in the room matched the expression on Nova's face. She opened the jewelry box and the engagement ring sparkled in the firelight. His hand shook on his knee, and his leg felt rubbery.

"Nova—"

"Yes!"

An explosion of laughter and cackles surrounded them, along with handclaps and loud whistles from Von and Mike.

Terry took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger.

"Nova…you coming into my life was divine, perfect timing. You changed my life from the ordinary into the extraordinary in such a short amount of time that sometimes…I don't even think you're real. But you are…and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Van-Van…and that baby girl you gave me…."

His voice shuddered, and he blinked back tears.

"Take your time Jaybird!" Jessie-Belle shouted.

"Nova…will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and marry me?"

"I do…yes! Oh my God, yes!"

She threw her arms around him. He stood and lifted her off of her feet. Titus rose first and shook Terry's hand. Pauletta hugged him and then hugged Nova.

"Show us the ring!" Dean shouted.

Nova wiped her eyes, then splayed out her fingers.

"How much that set you back?" Von asked.

Bethany slapped his arm. Their family and friends gave them congratulations in abundance, along with hugs and joyful kisses. The oven timer rang out. Dean ran toward the kitchen.

"Everyone wash up, dinner will be served in a few minutes. The mac n' cheese is calling us!"

Nova wrapped her arms around his waist and he lowered his head so they could press their foreheads together.

"Whenever you're ready, baby…you set the date and time," he said.

"Okay."

Her voice quivered. She closed her eyes. He let her cry, let his own tears join hers. There wasn't a happier man alive in the world.

Christmas morning smelled of fresh coffee, cinnamon rolls, and the lingering scent of the fresh pine needles on the tree. Wrapping paper and toys scattered in heaps throughout the house as the Easton and Richmond families shared gifts and watched Van-Van zoom around in his new electric car that the Easton's bought for him, among other things. As Terry predicted, all the Richmonds and his new family dressed in matching pajama sets of red and green with white snowflakes all over them. Titus and Pauletta took plenty of pictures, especially ones of Terrina and Van-Van

Terry watched his brother-in-law Bobby open the last gift from his wife. Sage looked thrilled to give him a new bronze and onyx Movado watch. Bobby hugged and thanked her and the family all headed to the dining room for a full breakfast. His grandfather said grace, and they tucked into fresh biscuits smothered in strawberries and whipped cream, fried eggs, and maple cured bacon. Dean used leftover ham to make omelets with Swiss cheese and onions.

After bellies were full, they spoke to Nova's relatives in Charleston and wished Mawmaw a Merry Christmas, sending pictures to Nella's phone to share. Terry took Van-Van into the backyard to play in snow that hadn't melted away yet. The chilly air let the ground hold on to two inches. They made it a lazy, relaxing day with plans to go visit other relatives and deliver gifts. There were also plans to go see Christmas fireworks at the Hyatt where the Eastons had a room overlooking the area for the light show. They spent the night at the house on Christmas Eve and invited everyone to enjoy the fireworks in their extensive suite for the evening.

Nova looked exhausted and Terry begged off on them joining the trip to see other relatives. They would catch up later at the hotel to watch the fireworks. Nova prepared two bottles of milk for Terrina, and her mother took the children under her charge with Titus. Terry packed a baby bag and put in some snacks for Van-Van. He waved at everyone from the porch as they all drove off in two SUVs.

Alone.

At last.

He strolled back into the house and placed another log on the fire, stoking it with an iron poker. Nova padded out from the kitchen, snacking on another cinnamon roll drenched in thick icing. He sat next to her on the couch and they watched the flames flicker.

"This was the best Christmas ever," she sighed.

"I'm sure Mawmaw and them put on a good time."

"They do, but this was the first time I could be in the moment. Normally I'm rushing around helping to run things or cooking. It felt like being a kid again, when you didn't have to do anything but enjoy all the Christmas magic. I got spoiled here. I don't know if I can go back to the old ways."

He kissed her temple and threw an arm around her.

"You could've gone with them to see your cousins," she said.

He shook his head.

"I've seen enough of them since we've been here. We need to take advantage of this moment of quiet."

She admired her engagement ring and fell asleep cuddled next to him. He rested his eyes and soon nodded off himself. They slept for about ninety minutes, and Nova woke up refreshed and hungry. They nibbled on slices of ham and leftover mac n' cheese, drank some champagne, and then moved most of the Christmas gifts closer to the tree to clean up the living room for his mother.

"We'll need to rent a bigger U-Haul when we leave next week," he said.

They both surveyed all the presents lavished on Van-Van and Terrina. Nova lifted her Octavia Butler bookset from the base of the Christmas tree.

"I can't wait to dig into this," she said.

She stretched and wandered off to take a shower. He plopped back down on the couch and scanned a few channels for a football game. After a while, he noticed Nova hadn't returned. He scanned some new channels.

"Hey, Nova, they're playing 'The Preacher's Wife' in a few. You wanna watch it?"

"Do you want to watch that or watch me?"

He turned his head. Nova stood under the mistle toe at the entrance of the hallway dressed in the sheer red negligee that adorned her body the last time they made love in Oceanside. She spruced up her hair and added sultry make-up. The heels on her feet tooted her ass out.

Shit.

Fuck.

Goddamn.

He left the couch and prowled toward her, stopping a mere three feet away to drink in her beauty and ultra sexiness.

"Is this my bonus Christmas gift?" he said.

She nodded with coquettish eyes.

He pulled off his pajama top and balled it up, tossing it back on the couch.

"You're wearing something real dangerous," he said.

She rubbed on her breasts, teasing him with their bounty. His eyes narrowed, and she sighed. He had her hooked already with their intensity. His eyes always trapped her. They could make her do things without him having to say one word. She ran her fingers all across her tits, pinching her nipples and pushing them together. He stood silently and watched, feeling the blood in his body travel south. She did everything he wanted to see.

His dick grew thick and stretched out his pajama bottoms. Nova rested her hands on her generous thighs and shook her upper body, letting her tits bounce, knowing that would send him into overdrive.

He pulled down his pajama bottoms with his boxer briefs and his dick jutted like steel. She turned around and jumped on her heels to make her ass cheeks clap for him. He smacked her backside, turning her light brown skin red on both cheeks. She didn't even bother to put on the g-string that went with it. He smacked and rubbed out the hard strikes he gave her ass with his large hand. She bent over and touched her toes, letting him get a peek at her glistening pussy.

"Fuck…Nova…"

He gently touched her pubic hairs. They were already damp. Her wetness flowed out easily. He held his dick by the root and smacked her ass with it. A sticky stream of pre-cum dripped onto her ass, and he gripped her neck. He lowered his head and ravaged her mouth from behind, the perk of being taller than her. Nova panted and groaned in his mouth, their tongues dueling for control of the other. He lifted her breasts and squeezed them. His dick rested against her ass and kept spilling pre-cum.

They kissed like that for a long time under the mistletoe. Slow…easy…unrushed. His head arched over hers and her head bent back to accept his plundering tongue. He plucked at her nipples, causing shivers in her frame. Her lips were so succulent that he had to groan at the pleasure they brought him. His dick throbbed with a knowing anticipation. They hadn't had intercourse in over a year with one another, and the way she was carrying on with his mouth, he guessed she was ready for penetration. She purposely wore that negligee to inflame his ardor like a matador waving a red cape at a bull.

"Can I be inside you?" he asked.

Nova moaned, "Yes."

"Do we need to do anything extra?" he asked.

She was on birth control, and he brought condoms for the occasion. But she knew how he liked to get down. He could pull out for his release, but her body drove him into a breeding frenzy.

"I already used the spermicidal gel," she said.

He groaned, and his dick jumped. They had the extra back up to let him cum inside her raw.

"I'll take it slow, baby," he whispered into her mouth.

She threaded her fingers with his and pulled him toward their bedroom. He reached down and grabbed his pajama bottoms.

They couldn't keep their lips apart inside his room. Her tongue still tasted like cinnamon and expensive champagne. He rubbed all over her breasts, loving how they looked behind the sheer material, her small nipples so cute surrounded by the wideness of her areolas.

"Feel so good," he said.

He let his right hand drift behind her backside and he probed her pussy lips, inserting his fingers inside Nova a couple of inches to test her wetness. Her engorged inner labia parted open for him. He had to tamp down on his eagerness or else he'd cum prematurely. Her body had that effect on him with sex. He could pace himself easily with any other woman, but Nova drove him wild and his dick could spit at any moment, blowing the chance for them to fuck raw and uninhibited with an empty house. Finger fucking her pussy that way made her squirm and pant his name in his ear. She stuck her tongue in his ear and moaned when he inserted his middle finger into her ass. They once tried anal sex in the past, but she could only take the head in and nothing past his frenulum. It was enough for him to ejaculate, though, and she still liked when he used a finger or two.

He sat on the bed and pulled her toward him so he could fondle her breasts in his face. The tip of his tongue traced around her nipples through her negligee and she stroked his hair, letting sighs of arousal fall into his ears. He pulled down the straps and released her tits. Their warmth bathed his cheeks as he pushed a breast on each side of his face and licked the center of her chest. He smashed them closer, letting them smother him. She cradled the nape of his neck with her right hand while he sucked on one nipple and pinched the other. An expert at titty sucking, Terry latched onto her with greedy lips and a lascivious tongue. His nipple stimulation caused her to gasp.

"Terry…Terry baby, hold on, my milk is letting down…"

He ignored her warning and accepted the flow of milk into his mouth from both nipples. Holding both breasts, he ran his tongue back and forth…teasing…tasting…turning her on more. He playfully slapped them, their heft arousing his dick with a sturdier girth, ready to plunge deep into her pussy.

"Is that pussy ready for me?" he asked.

He reached down between her thighs and wove careful circles around her clit like the way she showed him how to weave sweetgrass on her grandmother's porch. His fingers had a message to relay, and he used her clit like a telegraph to her inner walls: he was coming to do some work. Be ready.

"Yes…"

She grabbed his shoulders to keep her balance. Her eyes were already half-lidded.

"Suck my dick first. Lemme stretch your mouth."

Nova's eyes were glassy. She whined with annoyance, so desperate to get on her back and let him lay that pipe on her. Stretch those walls out instead. But he knew the longer he prolonged penetration, the sweeter her pussy would be on his dick. He needed to slut her out a bit. Get her pussy throbbing for his erection he taunted her with.

She lowered herself and opened her mouth wide. Taking the bulbous head with her lips first, he groaned the moment her tongue curled on the underside. Her head bobbed in his lap with a steady motion. All mouth, no hands. Poor baby. His girth and length tired her jaw. Wrapping both hands around him still wasn't enough for her. She spit on his dick like the nasty little slut she could be for him. He remembered the times she'd suck him off while pregnant. Nova loved the taste of his dick in her mouth, but always had to take her time with his size or she'd tire out fast, especially while carrying a baby in her belly. He reached for her tits and she sandwiched his dick between them, rubbing them up and done while she watched his expression. His dick pulsed and the veins bulging on it excited her more. Her arousal made her look high. He watched her left nipple leak milk and his jumped again. His fiancé whimpered in desperation. She wanted her pussy plowed right then and there.

There would be time to eat her pussy out later. In the meantime; he needed to be inside of her. Those big titties would keep spilling milk, but he needed to spill into her and satisfy the raging urge to fuck her until he soaked her insides with cum. Her negligee beckoned him to make love to her like the last time they did. It was the best sex he'd had, and it produced a beautiful baby. He wanted to experience that type of carnal pleasure again. Being reckless last time gave him the best nut of his life. They would be extra careful this go-round, but the urge escalated in his dick. He became dizzy, lusting after breeding her with his semen. He kissed her with all the passion in his being.

Nova's legs shook from the stimulation of his tongue and lips. He pulled her onto the bed beside him and spread her legs, letting her feet rest on the edge. She kicked off her heels, and he kissed her toes, which were painted scarlet to match the negligee. Nova played with her pussy, letting him see and hear how wet she was. God, his dick was hard as a brick and his balls hung heavy. He squeezed them to show her how much cum weighed down his sack.

He stepped away to rummage in his personal bag and pulled out some warming lube. He slicked up his dick and smacked it in his hand hard. She heard that heavy sound and chewed on her bottom lip. He slid his hands up her thighs and lifted the negligee back further. Resting between her legs, he lowered his mouth to kiss her and remind her why they fit together. The first time she kissed him so long ago, he recognized the hunger within. He shared that same craving. Pressing the wide head of his dick at her entrance, he breathed into her mouth, "Can I stick part of it in?"

"Yes, baby…yes…"

That's what he liked to hear. Enthusiastic consent. He watched his dick penetrate her dripping pink entrance.

"More!" she pleaded.

Grunting, he tried to keep it together. His entry was so smooth, he would have bet she was built to sheath him from the moment they met.

"Oh! That's it…baby!" she shouted.

He let go of a loud moan of completion as he sank all the way in until his balls slapped her ass. Pulling out slowly, he admired how she could take every inch of him. He stretched her again, easily, the lube and her natural wetness perfectly aroused to handle all of him.

Terry moved slowly, being mindful that she gave birth five months ago. He loved the way her belly bunched up, squeezing her belly button area into a fold of flesh. She worried about having a big fupa later, but he told her good pussy needed extra protection. He watched her face for any signs of discomfort. There weren't any. Her lips pouted and her eyes squinted with her pleasure face. He stroked a little faster, their bodies slapping harder together.

"Yes, baby! Oh…Terry…right there…go deeper…harder…"

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he fisted his hands into the mattress, giving himself an anchor so he could start fucking her silly. His thrusts pulled out her begging. More dick. Deeper. Harder. Faster. Fuck me good Daddy energy.

He gripped her breasts and held onto them. They were slick with more milk and sweat, filling his hands past capacity.

"You'll always love me?" she asked.

Her lust-filled eyes still had a pleading quality to them. He snaked his hips to stroke another part of her pussy. His thickness tugged on her labia and stimulated her clit without him having to touch it yet.

"I'll always love you, Nova."

"Promise?"

He tongued her down and muffled the decadent cries that threatened to get louder since no one else was in the house. Gripping her waist, he owned her pussy, reminding her of what he could do.

"You'll always protect me?" she gasped.

"Yesssss."

He caressed her face and slowed down his thrusts until he barely moved, driving her insane. He used his deep voice to seduce her insecurities away.

"You're my woman…mine, Nova. Don't worry about anything. You're going to be my wife and I'm going to show you what a great man can do when he takes care of his woman and responsibilities properly…hey…look at me…don't you ever doubt my love or my intentions…okay? You're the only one for me. I put a ring on your finger to lock you down for life."

Nova lifted onto her elbows and started fucking him back as he spoke. His face grew heated listening to the sound of his dick stirring up her pussy. All the sticky, creamy, squelching noises coming from her juicy pussy had his dick pulsing inside her. She clenched on his length and he grunted. She needed reassurances. Her heart stayed cautious, and he would have to prove himself each day. He would start by making love to her as her husband. They didn't need a future wedding for him to solidify himself in that way right now. She deserved it all. His heart, mind, body, and soul.

He kissed the side of her neck and sucked on the tender skin there before sliding the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear.

"I love you, Nova. I'll never misuse your heart baby…never…"

She arched her back, as he loved her properly.

They switched positions before he ejaculated inside her gushy warmth. Her wetness bathed him in an ocean of sensual contentment. He sat on the edge of the bed and she sat on his dick. He lifted her up and down, then clutched onto her ass cheeks while she rode him. She hung onto his shoulders and he shouted her name in time to the slapping of her ass on his thighs. He sucked on her titties, kissed her lips, talked to her on how he wanted her pussy to act on his dick…did everything he could to bolster her confidence in their love going the distance. At no time did he ever want her thinking of her unhappy past. He was a new book with a new story that had a happy ending this time.

Slapping her ass, he ordered her onto the bed and fucked her from behind. Head down, ass up.

"Hold those ass cheeks wide open," he demanded.

She pulled her ass cheeks apart so he could watch his dick sink into her. Was this the position he had knocked her up in last time? Or was it when he pounded her on the bed with her legs thrown over his shoulders? Maybe it was when he lifted her up and fucked her while standing.

Her nail polish matched her toes and looked seductive on her light brown skin. The wet pink of pussy swallowed his dick…in…out…in…out…making his dick so glossy from her slippery walls. She was close to an orgasm. Her rapid panting and clawing of the blanket warned him..

"Can I cum in your pussy, Nova?"

He gripped her hips. His balls slapped her clit, and each thrust gave her the friction she needed. From the closet mirror, he could see her tits hanging and moving with each thrust he gave her. He reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. Her breasts swayed with each hard thrust.

"…hitting my spot…keep fucking me so good…yes…yes…yes…missed this dick…" she panted.

"Will you let me cum all in this fat pussy?"

Sweat from his chest dripped down onto her ass, that clapped like thunder in the room. She acted willful by not answering him. Nothing irritated him more than a bratty woman. She knew that and played with him, anyway. He'd have to break her of that habit before they returned to Oceanside. He released her hair and pulled her arms back. The motion lifted her chest up and her tits bounced around like crazy then, turning him on further.

"I wanna make a mess in this pussy," he growled.

The shift in tone locked her eyes on him. She took the hint. He wasn't playing with her.

"Tell me I can make a big mess in this pussy."

He was on the verge of losing it. Ready to blast into forever. But he needed her to cum first. She was the lifeline to drag him into the depths of a splendid hallelujah orgasm.

"Tell me!"

He pumped into her as his balls throbbed. Her mouth parted, showing the tip of her tongue. She felt so fucking good around his dick and all he needed was for her to tell him she wanted his cum to drown her pussy. His hips rocked into her faster and his dick swelled. His friction tugged on her clit and Nova spasmed up and down that big Christmas penis he served her. Her contractions vanquished speech from her vocal chords and all she could muster were continuous breathy cries of "Oh, oh, oh, oh!" that matched the throbbing of his erection as he shot hot cum far into her womb. Terry roared so loud that he was positive every angel in heaven heard his yelling. He dropped his head down and watched the root of his dick throb hard, pushing cum into her.

"Damn, Nova…damn, baby…I feel like I'm putting another baby in you!"

No more sound erupted from his lips, just his mouth stayed open with his eyes narrowed like he was mad at her pussy for milking him like that. Up and down his shaft, the contractions of her walls squeezed him. His hips rocked into her and the final spurts felt even more intense than the first. When he pulled out, he stroked the last bit of semen all over her labia. A lot more spilled out of her vagina. She had wrecked him and he left her pussy in shambles.

"Nova…shit…"

He started laughing, and she shook with giggles. Rolling over, she held out her arms for him and he climbed on her and rested his head on those soft pillowy breasts that fed his baby and satisfied him.

"God, I fucking love you, girl," he said.

"I think I love you more."

"Impossible."

"No, I think it's true," she said.

"But I loved you first," he said.

"Impossible."

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him all over his forehead, nose, cheeks, and then finally…his lips.

Terry showered with Nova.

They changed into comfortable, ugly Christmas sweaters and jeans. Nova cooked Mawmaw's Carolina Gold Rice, making red rice with crabmeat, and scooped it into a large ceramic casserole dish. She bagged it up with some of the leftovers along with paper plates and plastic forks for everyone to eat while watching the fireworks.

He drove them to the Hyatt in his truck and once they entered the suite where his parents and her parents relaxed and cared for their babies, Terry knew in the marrow of his bones that he was right to pursue Nova.

Van-Van ran up to him with his arms up in the air and he swooped his son up, giving him kisses.

"I love you, Van-Van," he said.

Van-Van pointed to the ceiling to floor window and wiggled to be put down so he could touch the glass and watch the first bright lights shoot off into the night sky. Nova handed him Terrina. His baby girl touched his lips, and he nibbled her fingers, making her squeal and laugh. He kept her on his right arm and put his other arm around Nova's shoulder.

"Dada, look…see? Fireworks," Van-Van said, elated by the presentation of red, green and white fireworks.

Terry smiled.

"I see them, son. I see them."

Nova grinned, and they stood together with their children as a family. His daughter rested her head on his chest, wearing her Creole/Gullah shirt. He glimpsed Nova's engagement ring as she pointed out a new fiery explosion to Van-Van.

She gazed into Terry's eyes and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Merry Christmas, Terry," she said.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Nova Richmond."

The fireworks couldn't match the brightness of Nova's smile.

Nor the glow inside his heart.

A.N:

Merry Christmas y'all and Happy New Year down the road! I hope my story gave you some holiday cheer, and a few thrills! Reminder: One of the best ways to support Black fanfiction writers that doesn't cost a dime is to reblog or comment (or both!). We thrive off of kind words to keep us going, and it's always great to extend our reach to new readers. In 2025 I'm making more of an effort to get my stories out to as many Black women as possible. We are in our #RestEra of pouring into ourselves and our own, so we deserve nice things to come home to for our reading pleasure.

On Deck: I'm finishing the last chapter of my Vampire!Terry Richmond fic "A Tattoo and the Bloodsucker Blues" by New Years, and then it's on to add more chapters to "Spinning the Block" my Terry Richmond/Jess Sims fic!

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[sakkiichi]

CASTLES CRUMBLING.

Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: angst.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.

Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.

And amidst this scene, you.

You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.

Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.

“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.

It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.

Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.

“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.

Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.

“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.

Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.

Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.

“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”

As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.

Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.

Your scent still lingers.

✧ XIAO

Spring had never felt so cold.

The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.

The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.

He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.

In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.

Qingxin. What he used to call you.

“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.

It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.

His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.

“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”

“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”

Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.

It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.

Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.

Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.

Even though he knows he will no longer have you.

Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.

Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.

“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.

The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.

The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.

The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.

He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.

Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.

“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.

A lie.

Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.

Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.

“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”

The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.

“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.

“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.

“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.

“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.

“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.

“Huh, if you say so…”

“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.

“Ugh, whatever.”

“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.

“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.

“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.

An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.

His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.

The failed god weeps. Winter burns.

✧ LYNEY

“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”

Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.

Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.

If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.

But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.

A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.

His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.

Lumidouce bells.

The color of goodbyes, separations.

And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.

“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.

“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”

You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.

“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.

“Okay.”

Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.

A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.

When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.

No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.

And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.

“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.

Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.

The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.

The sun has set.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Off-key birdsong and steely skies.

Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.

Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.

Someone he still loves.

Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.

The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.

“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.

Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.

The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.

“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.

Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.

“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.

Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.

If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…

The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.

Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.

Beneath the blindfold, Justice mourns.

It’s raining again.

[quarterlifekitty]

Thinking abt fairy tale twists

cw: conspiracy to commit murder, a lil bit of graphic imagery

König as the huntsman of your tale. Known throughout the kingdom for his brutal efficiency, he is feared by all and a pit of loneliness eats at the bottoms of his lungs as it grows in his stomach. He will not deny– the queen, your mother, wordlessly offered him more than a sum of gold. Her nails grazed his arm, just close enough for the tips of her fingers to blaze along his skin. He felt the skin burn and tingle as if raised by scars. She was keen to his true desires, and at the time he was more than happy to be preyed upon.

Ironic for that to be a huntsman’s wish.

You’d been hidden from the world for a very long time. Not seen or heard by anyone but the queen and some select castle staff for over a decade. Even in the walls of your own home, you are veiled– covered like grass after a frost.

And you are no fool. You know why you’ve been let out of the grounds, told to gather spring flowers just past the edge of the forest. But the queen’s word is law, and you can only hope the end will be swift. The loneliness in you is like gnashing gears, chewing through nerves until all of your sensations have frayed and distorted. Even without knowing your face, his emptiness feels magnetized to yours. The hand that grips the serrated blade begins to shake imperceptibly.

You lift the veil so you can see the sky unburdened for the last time. It is in that moment that he thinks to himself– it’s difficult to tell the difference between the heart of a pig and that of a girl.

“Kleines mädchen,” König calls, almost flinching as you gasp, turning to find the source of the words. “You are in danger. The Queen, she… she wishes you dead. But I cannot bring myself—“ he lets out a deep breath, trying to regain some modicum of composure in your presence. There was a reason your stepmother envied you as she did. You had a beauty that men would conquer kingdoms for.

“Come with me,” the huntsman entreats, “I can keep you safe. I won’t let her find you. Please…” he steps forward, nearly stunned when you do not step back. For so long all he has known was distance maintained.

The world had turned from him and you had been turned from the world. He can so clearly picture your bodies fitting together in a way that seems only possible in paintings. Two broken things forming a single whole.

“You… you promise not to harm me?” There’s a crack in your voice, quieted from disuse. “I have nothing to offer you,” you remind him. Almost as if she wants for him to go through with his work.

“You do not turn away from me. That’s more than anyone has given me in quite some time.” Another step forward, with you standing rooted in place, eyes not wandering from his form.

“You’ll be in danger if she even suspects that I still live.” The words warm him from the inside.

“You’re very sweet, mädchen. To be worried for ein alter jäger… I could not see you harmed. Not even at the cost of my own life.” This time it’s you that steps forward, directly in front of him now. You reach for the hem of his hood.

“A face for a face. That’s my one condition.” Your voice gathers in his ears as he strains to memorize each note, like an animal trying to remember the sweet taste of morning dew on grass.

“You may not like what you see.”

“Any face can be beautiful if it holds affection, huntsman.”

Yes. A pig’s heart will do.

[mvlders222]

𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

pairing ; lottie matthews x fem!reader

wordcount ; 2.3k

summary ; you've always found yourself butting head with lottie. you both can't seem to find out why. what happens when she takes it just a little too far? (enemies to lovers)

warnings ; injury, cursing, shouting match, use of y/n (let me know if i missed anything!)

The feeling of the cold, crisp air rushing past your skin was evident as you ran across the field. The ball between your cleats was wet with the morning dew as it glided along the freshly cut grass. The morning was foggy, the sun hidden behind soft clouds.

Your concentration was interrupted by a presence on your close right. Lottie was catching up to you, and fast. You tried to outrun her, desperately, but you struggled to keep the ball intact.

Her body crashed into your side, making you trip over your own feet and collide with the ground. You had the wind knocked out of your lungs and your head was beating with your heart, sounding through your ears. You winced, feeling the adrenaline run dry and your back start to ache. You realize you’ve lost.

It’s just a scrimmage, you have to remind yourself. Before anyone could score, however, the sound of a whistle being blown cut the game short. That didn’t cover the sound of Lottie’s groans. “Are you serious?”

You sat up from the ground to face her, gently to not hurt yourself further. “What the fuck, Lottie?” The scowl on your face matched hers.

“Hey, come on!” Coach Ben hollered at the both of you, heads turning to where he stood at the edge of the field. “Just help her up, yeah?”

You both turned back toward each other. Lottie looked down at you with an irked expression, as if you had done something wrong. She held her hand out to you begrudgingly, hoping that you wouldn’t accept it.

You looked up at her through your lashes, squinting ever so slightly. The sight of her above you made you feel small. You slapped your hand into hers and pulled yourself up. You still face her, not breaking eye contact.

Lottie doesn’t let go right away. Instead, she tugs you closer and tilts her head to your ear. “You need to keep up,” she whispered. She wasn’t going to let this go. “I’d hate to see you on the bench.” You could hear the self-satisfied grin in her voice.

“I’d just hate to see you in general.” You taunted her back. You pull your hand from her grasp and give her one last scowl before walking back to your side of the field.

Lottie’s smile falters for a second before she scowls and rolls her eyes. The whistle blows one last time, signaling the end of practice. All the girls ran back to the locker room, some stopping you to make sure you were okay.

You sat alone on the bench, it still hurt to move. You were the last one in there, along with Shauna. She shut her locker, and the sound of that and her sneakers along the tile floor cut the silence. She turned toward you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Do you need a ride?”

You shook your head and sighed. “I think I just need some time, yeah?” Which was true. You hated struggling in front of your peers, you didn’t want your friends to worry about you. In your mind, being seen as vulnerable was a sign of weakness. That was something you couldn’t see yourself coming back from.

She nodded and walked toward the exit, looking back once more. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” You gave her a reassuring smile and watched her back as she left.

Now, all alone, you sighed to yourself before getting up and shedding your uniform. You put your hair up as you walked into the showers. You turned the nozzle, cold water came spitting out sporadically and you tried to shield yourself. You held your hand out, trying to sense the warmth.

As the steam rose in the air, you relaxed into the water, feeling your muscles unwind. Closing your eyes, you let the bar of soap glide across your body.

“You’re still here?” You whipped your head toward the source of the voice and saw Lottie, standing just outside of the showers. She looked you up and down with a stupid smile on her face.

“Jesus Christ, Lottie!” you shouted at her and tried to cover yourself. “Go away!”

“Sorry! I can’t help it,” she laughed at your state, turning away and walking further into the locker room. “Let me get you a towel, at least.”

“You shut off the shower water and walked to the edge between the showers and the locker room floor. She walked back, towel in hand. You held out your arms, peeking out from behind the wall between you two.

“Hold on now.” She looked at your outstretched arm before looking down at the towel again. “What am I doing?”

“Come on, Lottie.” you pleaded, although she had been talking to herself now. “I’d be an idiot to give you this.”

“You’re an idiot anyway.” You were starting to get pissed at her. How could she be so laid back right now? “Give me the towel, Lottie.”

“That’s not very nice, angel,” she teased and brought the towel to her chest, further from your reach. you tried calming down, sighing before looking at her with a tight expression. “Please, Lottie? I need it.”

“Only ‘cause you said please.” She brought the towel to your hand and you snatched it from her grasp. You wrapped it around yourself and walked back to your locker where a clean pair of clothes sat.

Lottie followed behind you, her gaze on your back. She suddenly remembered what happened during practice. “Hey, I’m sorry… about earlier.” She sounded sincere, but you couldn’t believe it.

“You don’t have to apologize, Lottie.” You shook your head, exhausted from her antics and the whole day in general. You stood in front of your open locker with a pair of clean clothes. “Um, turn around, please?” You couldn’t face her, too embarrassed in your current state.

She understood immediately and did so. You unwrapped the towel from your frame and let it drop to the floor. Grabbing a clean pair of underwear, you bent down to slip them over your legs. This cycle continued until you got to your sports bra, bringing your arms over your head to put it on. A sharp pain cut through your movements, causing you to let out a resounding groan in response.

Lottie heard this and became concerned. “Do you need help?” She turned her head to the side as she tried to make her voice clearer, despite it being the only noise in the room. You sighed and gave in. “Yeah…”

Without hesitating, Lottie turned back around and walked to your side, her gaze softening at the sight of you. You looked dejected, and she understood that. She grabbed the cloth from your hands and stood behind you.

“Arms out,” she commanded. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable position for you, it was better than the cohesive movements of dressing yourself. You let her arms caress yours, the heat contrasting against the cold atmosphere. She brought the article of clothing up your arms and shoulders. You ducked your head and she stretched the material over your neck.

She leaned over your shoulder to grab the shirt from your locker, her body pressed into your back, causing you to shudder. She backed away slightly. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

She pulled the shirt out and inspected the image printed on the front. “Bangles? Really?” She smiled at the worn-in design, the breath from her laugh hitting your neck. You flush, embarrassed by the old rag in her hands.

“The Bangles are good.” You tried to defend yourself. It was hard when her tall frame was surrounding yours. She turned her head toward yours and smirked. “The Go-Gos are better.”

“We really can’t agree on anything, can we?” she asked, her gaze catching yours, making you feel weak in the knees. She looked back at the t-shirt and her brows furrowed. “This one might be a little difficult…” She continued to look at the shirt, trying to think of a solution to cause the least pain.

Lottie shoved the shirt back into the locker in front of you. You turned to her out of confusion about her actions, only to see her unzipping her jacket and taking it off. She held it out to you. “Take it.”

You looked down at her jacket and shook your head. “No, Lottie, I can’t…”

She cut you off. “Please, Y/n?” She wasn’t going to let you be so stubborn. “Take this as my apology… I feel bad.” She had mumbled the last part, but it still came through. You looked back down at the jacket in her hands. It was a maroon color, and it also looked warm. What reason did you have to not take her offer?

“Fine.” You took her jacket, unfolded it, and slipped it over your shoulders. You zipped it closed and looked down at yourself. It hugged your frame perfectly, almost like it was made for you. “Thanks, Lottie.”

“It’s no problem.” You two stood in front of each other for a minute more, every so often making eye contact and looking away once caught. She cleared her throat to disrupt the silence. “Do you, uh, need a ride?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and looked back up at her and offered her a soft smile. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Lottie smiled back at you, happy to help you out. She shut your locker for you and grabbed your bag off the bench. You just stood there in disbelief and watched her begin to walk out. Not hearing your footsteps behind her, she looks back at you with a blank expression. “You comin’?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You snap out of your position and begin to walk after her. You trailed her out of the locker rooms. “I can carry my stuff, y’know.”

“Not with a bum shoulder. Plus, I did that to you. The least I can do is help you out.” You both walked across the field and onto the hot asphalt of the parking lot. You nodded along with her words, not that she could see it.

Lottie’s car was one of the only ones left in the lot, and it was nice. She walked around to the passenger side, standing next to you. She grasped the handle to the door and opened it, holding it for you. You looked up at her a mumbled a ‘thank you.’ You slipped inside, hitting the warm leather of the seat.

She shut the door and you watched out the windshield as she walked around to the driver’s seat. She opened the door and got in, tossing your bag in the back seat. You faced forward, avoiding any eye contact with her.

Lottie didn’t start the car just yet. She fastened her seatbelt and looked at your expression, which to her was unreadable. “What’s wrong?”

You finally turn your head to look at her, biting your lip as you contemplate whether you should tell her or not. “Are you just gonna go back to hating me after this?”

She flinched at your words, seemingly taken aback. She shook her head in confusion. “Where did this come from?”

“Come on, it’s not exactly a secret.” You rolled your eyes, starting to get worked up. You turned in your seat to face her fully now. “You’re just doing all of this to make yourself feel better.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth.” She was starting to raise her voice in defense of your yelling. She felt offended by your accusations. “I can’t do something nice for a friend?”

“Oh, please, we’re hardly friends–”

She grabbed your face and pulled you in. In her mind, the only way of shutting you up was physically. And in the process, indirectly admitting her feelings in the process. Her lips were pressed against yours leaving no room for air.

She pulled away from you hastily, an unnerving feeling starting to set in. You both stared at each other with wide eyes, breathing rapidly. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t stop thinking about her carelessness. If you hadn’t hated her before, you probably did now.

You leaned over to her in the driver’s seat, pushing her thoughts aside by moving your lips against hers once again. You were now sitting up on your knees, desperately reaching to taste every flavor she had to offer. You brought your hands up to hold her face as you kissed her.

She brought her hand up behind your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. You moaned into the kiss, pulling away for some air. Lottie had not, however, she continued to trail her open-mouth kisses toward your jawline.

“Lottie,” you breathed out, trying to get her attention. She moved her kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, seemingly tuning out your words. “Lottie!” You pushed her head away from your neck and looked at her. Her eyes were half-lidded and she had a dazed look on her face.

She looked up at you and pouted. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it was perfect.” You moved your hand up to her hair, scratching her scalp. She moaned in response to the feeling. “You’re perfect.” You smiled and pulled away completely, sitting back down in your seat.

“You want me to take you home now? After all that?” She wasn’t upset, actually she was quite the opposite. But she was also confused by your actions.

“No, I’m waiting for you to start the car and take me out.” You were now finding it difficult to hide your smile, butterflies going crazy throughout your stomach.

Lottie was now the one who couldn’t contain herself. “That’s my girl.” She let out a small smile before leaning toward you again, pressing another kiss to your cheek. She turned forward and turned the keys to start the engine.

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[inmyglowupera]

Work on yourself in the dead of winter,

so spring becomes your rebirth.

Working on yourself in the quiet of winter feels different—steady, intentional, and personal. But when spring arrives, with its morning dew, blossoming trees and pink auroras, it’s something else. Something magical. You’re already ahead—energized, grounded, and ready to meet the season. Winter wasn’t just survival—it was preparation.

While others are shaking the winter slumber off, you’re already thriving, freshly aligned with nature’s changing forces. You embody its vitality and renewal. You connect to everything that blooms. You belong to spring and spring, with all its transformative force, becomes yours.

[risuola]

VII — WHAT IF...? // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Tobirama never wanted children and not one of you ever brought the topic up, but now, as you grow more and more intimate and comfortable with each other you wonder, what if...?

contents: smut, reader discretion is advised — 2,1k words

a/n: i need to tell you guys that i'm so incredibely grateful for the positive feedback i got from you readers! i know that Tobirama isn't the most popular character in Naruto and i chose him to make this series about (because I love him, that's why) and it makes me so happy that you enjoy his little persona too! ❥ also, i'm very sorry for posting so rarely for this series, i was stuck in where to take the story now.

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

“God, I’m so damn busy.”

Tobirama’s low, deep voice rumbled against your skin as he kept latching his lips along the edges of you. You let your nails gently run across the pale flesh of his sides, your hands long gone underneath the dark ink-blue fabric of his blouse, yearning for the warmth of a man that has your heart in a tight grip for way longer than you’d ever suspect. The marks he was leaving at his wake matched the color to the ones you were painting on his back and you couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction when he hissed near your ear. The stinging sensation of your scratches fueled his fire even more and only seconds passed before your pants were pushed down and underwear got ripped into pieces. The heat of your core now exposed to his whims, starved tremendously for any touch of his, and you whimper – the sound nearly pathetic, as he moved his fingers along your dripping slit, spreading the slick and making their way around the pulsating bud.

“My love,” you breathed again, leaning your head against his peck, inhaling the subtle, fresh scent that always stuck to his body. A mixture of tangerine and pepper, a hint of sandal wood hovering above the soft undertone of morning dew and rain. “My god, I missed you.” You spoke, but what was leaving your mouth was incoherent, it was airy and broken; stuttered between the expert circles Tobirama was massaging right into your nervous system.

“I missed you too,” he replied, quiet against the crown of your head, taking in your aura and impatiently moving his fingers a little bit further, making them slip right into you. One by one, he was focused on stretching you out, the tight ring of muscles clenching around his digits as he moved them back and forth.

“Tobi, please–“ you whined, gripping onto his sides with enough force to ground yourself.

“You think you are ready for me?”

“I do, please,” there was no hint of uncertainty when you begged for him to fuck you. Right there, on his desk, in his office in the hokage tower. There was no worry in you, no thought about his brother few doors further down the hall, no nothing that could convince you that it wasn’t the best idea and it seemed your husband has just as little concerns because it didn’t take him long to be inside you.

A low, gravelly groan escaped his throat, vibrating against your lips that glued to his throat marked their way across the sensitive skin over his Adam’s apple. It’s been too long since he felt you that close, it’s been too long since he was able to just lose himself in you, be vulnerable in the loving embrace of your body, be the person he never got to be publicly and instead of thinking and analyzing, just letting himself feel. And then, he was sure, that if ever he wished to feel anything, it was you he wanted to experience. It was you since the day he saw you for the first time, led by a servant in your family palace, blinded and obedient but bearing a beauty that tainted his thoughts perpetually.

Tobirama will always remember the feeling of your body – the soft curve of your shoulder he kept his hand on to lead you out of your village, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheekbones when he took the blindfold off your face, revealing the eyes in which he got lost with no return. You were nothing more than a girl he just met back then, a wife-to-be but someone unknown and yet, his heart knew on the spot that things will change. And they did, he knew it’ll happen, but he wouldn’t dare to wish his life to turn out so dramatically different to what he predicted. Love was a feeling as foreign as fear to his heart. A heart he thought was frozen and nothing more than a dot in the constellation of organs that kept him alive. The beat in his chest has never had any more meaning than to keep his body going and the very same beat now goes crazy, rumbling against his ribs whenever he sees you. Tobirama knew his life will change, the very moment his head was filled with terror and uneasiness when Hashirama passed him the decision regarding the arrangement. He knew about all the shifts in his day to day life he will simply have to commit to and yet, the most vibrant of his dreams, the most brave and perverse could have never created what he had now. You.

You, on the desk he’s used to work at. You, with your plush thighs wrapped around his waist, your hands gripping onto him for just a fraction of support, panting out moans, so light and breathy, against his lips, quietly escaping only for his ears to hear. With your core clenching, aching to accommodate him whole and yet, greedy enough to take everything, to want more. Senju would never imagine he will be blessed enough to hear his name spoken with so much love he could actually feel it seeping through the sound of it.

You kept squeezing him and he kept losing his mind over every twitch your walls did around him. You were a work of art, he thought as his eyes followed the lines of your body. An arch of your back now prominent, and the only thing that kept you from falling flat onto the desk was a pair of his hands, strongly holding your waist to himself. Your eyes were absent, your mind long gone into the realm of pleasure and yet, your fingers stayed on his biceps, squeezing the flesh and wandering, hungry to have more of him.

“Tobi–“ you breathed out, the name just barely sliding on top of the air you were panting out and you pulled yourself closer to him. Your palms now found their way to his back, stretching the fabric of his blouse to feel the skin underneath it and you leaned into him, as he leaned into you. Your foreheads touched, noses squeezed together as the final moves of his hips brought both of you over the edge. Your breaths mingled together, a soft, broken sounds made for a cacophony of love you just shared and you shut your eyes to just feel him fully.

“Welcome back home,” your husband whispered finally, kissing your lips shortly after your smile acknowledged his words. The gesture was soft, languid and though you knew it was carrying much more than just concluding the sex. There was love that it carried, emotions unraveling with each movement of his mouth against yours and you felt the warmth spreading all over your body.

“I missed you too,” you replied, softly and quietly, slowly breaking the kiss off but not shying away from marking the line of his jawline with few more wet spots. “Let’s get cleaned, shall we?”

* * *

Watching Tobirama fight was one of your favorite things to do ever since you got to marry him. It amazed you every time you had a chance to witness his training and your husband never failed to take your breath away with how skilled and precise his movements are, how much control he has over nature releases and how well he wields the sword. Of course, the moment he offered you to join him while he trained with Kagami, you said yes without a second thought.

The boy from the clan of fire has become a part of your family in a way. Ever since you gave him a hand, helped him go through the traumatic events that happened with his biological parents, you kept an eye on him. With regular visits at his new home, you got to know his new parents – lovely people – and you really attached yourself to the little kid. He was growing so fast, warming your heart and soul as you watched the smile on his face and pinched his cheeks every time you had a chance, because soon he’ll be too big for you to do so any longer (you’ll try anyway). Kagami was a constant guest at your house, spreading his warm aura across the place where you and your husband live and making you smile every time you saw him, because the few days you got to take a close care of him were the sweetest memories you held onto. You’ll never forget the way he clung onto you, with trust and a kind of love that a child gives an adult that it feels safe with.

Tobirama grew to love the boy rather quickly – though he was reluctant to admit how fast it happened, but you knew he felt the intense need of care in just few days of little Uchiha in his life. Now it wasn’t a secret anymore – your husband openly treated the kid as if it was his own and even though he strongly believed that kids shouldn’t be exposed to war and violence, he was very supportive when it came to trainings. Even on the busiest days of his schedule, he always found a moment or two to spare for the cheerful child that came to visit the hokage tower every time he was around.

“Tired already?” Senju asked, watching the brunette gathering up from the green grass on one of the meadows that were more of a training field than a piece of greenery. An open space so big in comparison to the almost eight-year-old tiny human and yet he bravely raised up to his little feet, clenching his fingers around the handle of his kunai.

 “No!” He called out, panted and a small smile tugged on your husband’s lips as he got into his stance yet again. It was a spectacle of trust and power and you admired your man for being able to perfectly calculate how much strength he can put into every move of his body to make the little one hustle just enough.

You, as you sat on the side, resting on the soft blanket and surrounded by homemade food you prepared to feed both boys after they’re done and some bandages and first aid supplies that you knew will be needed to tend scrapes and cuts that Kagami will most likely be covered in after the session. All those little, harmless wounds you’ll later kiss and wrap around, tickling the child and basking in the sweet sound of his giggles muffled by the pieces of rice and meat you’ll give him.

You smiled, then sighed, feeling a sentiment washing over you. A slight tension made your muscles twitch and soon you found yourself pressing a hand onto your belly. You wished to have children, not always – but now, as you found love in the village that confidently you call your cherished home, more and more often you catch yourself thinking.

Tobirama didn’t want any offspring, at least that’s what he told you few days after the wedding – as he was explaining to you the mechanisms of the arrangement and briefing you through his visions of the future between you and him, he mentioned that his brother will secure the bloodline, therefore he has no wish to have kids himself. It’s something you agreed on, then slightly intimidated by his cold and calm persona, but three years had passed since you and him got bonded by knot of matrimony and as you think of it, none of his predictions came to life.

Sometimes you chuckled mentally, knowing how far off is what you have now to what he told you he think will happen. It was meant to be loveless, it was meant to be dry and distant. He told you that he’s sorry for the future you were given to, that he’s not going to love you just like you deserve but then, he did just that. He swore he’s cold, that his heart isn’t capable of sharing feelings as romantic as love but Tobirama loves, and he loves hot. Every kiss and stolen touch with him burns right into your soul, warms you from the inside, makes you happy and cherished, and you knew, deep inside of your heart, that his mind changed long time ago. You knew, deep down, that he’s content with what you built together, that he’s happier than he ever would be if your marriage turned out as he thought it will.

And so, you wondered if his will to have children changed as well? You never talked about it with him, never asked and he didn’t as well. Lost in the constant rush of his busy schedule, from meeting to meeting and from fight to fight, Tobirama stayed quiet about the issue and you, now leading the anbu, never had guts to bring it up either. But now, as you sat there, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun, you wondered what if…?

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

[strawberrychampayne]

i guess you aren't oblivious anymore?

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: some swearing

word count: 2393 (I'm so proud lol)

summary: bradley wants her to forgive him but she's not letting go so easily. good thing he remembers something he told her a few months prior that might just win her over

ring ring ring

Glancing over at her phone she clicked the stop alarm button. Rolling over her shoulders slumped as she thought the past 2 days over in her mind. Bradley showing up the night before wasn’t something she was expecting. Had he really meant what he had said or was he just trying to get her to talk to him? 

As easy as it would be to maul over the previous night she had a job. One that took years of training she might add.

As she stood up she decided that she’d have enough time to go for a run before work. Something she did to clear her mind. The breeze that would sweep across her neck and shoulders would distract her from her problems even if it was only a half hour. Grabbing her purple sports bra and sweats she climbed into them, almost tripping and falling. Snatching her keys, phone and headphones she stepped out of her house. Narrowly missing the pink tulips that laid on the ground beside her feet. She missed them completely, not even sending them an accidental glance and took off. 

After running three and a half miles, sweat dripping down her body, Y/N returned home. As she walked up the door she glanced down and saw the flowers awaiting her. Freezing, she paused trying to unlock her door. She turned her head around to see if she could spot the sender. Was it Bradley? Did he actually remember her favorite flower? Did this mean-

Absolutely not. She was still mad at him. He was a dickhead when he wanted to be. Wrapping her hand around the stems, her hand felt wet. The morning dew coating the flowers and giving them a shine. I guess it was a start to an apology. Not that she cared about one, right? 

The water running down her sore body encased her in warmth. Pooling at the bottom of her shower and sliding down her drain. Washing away heaps of sweat and regret. She hated how showers made her reflect on things. Maybe it was because they warmed her up or maybe because they made her feel rejuvenated when she finished. She wondered if she had been too cold to Bradley. Maybe she could’ve heard him out. She didn’t want to stress herself out, she had work to do today. Turning up the soft music playing in the background she sighed. My Girl filled her ears. Typical. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Rooster could feel the stares of the people around him. Everyone was looking at him, judging him. It was in fact only Hangman and Phoenix but their stares felt like everyone. They were judging him as he walked up.

“So, how’d it go loverboy?” he heard Hangman remark as soon as he was in earshot.

“Looking at his expression that resembles a kicked puppy I’d say not good.” Phoenix added, a look of pity on her face. 

Rooster gave them both a pointed look. His lips in a tight, thin line for a moment as he thought of what to say. He could downplay the whole thing and avoid the teasing remarks of Hangman or he could be honest and get helpful advice from Phoenix.

He stupidly chose his first option.

“I don’t think that's any of your business. It went fine, not perfect, but fine.” Rooster replied, a grimace apparent on his face. Glancing over his shoulder he watched as Magnet walked up to the doors. Was she moving in slow motion? He excused himself and all but ran to the door. Wrapping his hand around the cool metal he pulled it open. 

“Magnet.” he whispered as she walked through the door. “I just want to apologize again, I-”

He closed his mouth quickly as he saw the look she gave him. Had he not known that Magnet was a sweetheart who could barely kill a fly he might’ve even been intimidated. He watched the sway of her hair (and her hips, he can’t lie) as she walked away from him. Not even sparing a second glance to him.

His head hung in shame and embarrassment he walked back over to Hangman and Phoenix. 

“And here I thought you said “it went fine”, correct me if I’m wrong but that didn’t look fine to me.” Hangman said, cockyness but also a sense of pity coming off of him. 

“Shut it, Hangman” Phoenix said, slapping his torso with the back of her hand. 

—---------------------------------------------------

It had been 4 excruciating hours of work. Y/N walked to the lunch room, her packed lunch in hand. It didn’t help that she couldn’t get Bradleys stupidly gorgeous face out of her mind. It was like her heart wouldn’t listen to her mind when she was begging for images of his face to leave her mind. 

Glancing around the room she found Phoenix in their normal spot. In the beginning of training the two of them claimed the table as their own, not even letting the rest of the daggers sit with them. It was a girl debriefing table as they called it. Somewhere they could share their feelings without the judgment of the sassiest group of men to ever walk the Earth. 

Before she made her way she quickly glanced around the room for Rooster. She had figured it was time she’d start calling him that again, but not Roos. He’d lost that privilege. She scanned the tables full of people eating and laughing with each other, not seeing him anywhere. Weird. 

—---------------------------------------------------

While Magnet didn’t see him, he saw her. He was waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in. As he watched her make her way to her usual table he sped walked towards it. He saw as Phoenix’s eyes widened as they raced, unbeknownst to Magnet. She could see Rooster was gaining on her. Her face turned into a grimace as he got to the table quicker and pulled out Y/N’s normal chair. Rooster watched as Mag stopped in her tracks. Glancing towards the exit he thought maybe she’d make a run for it and leave. With a sigh of relief he watched as she finished the inner battle she was having and walked the distance separating them. He watched as she gracefully sat down and he pushed her chair in. 

“Thank you.” was quietly mumbled, so quiet that Rooster could barely hear it.

“I’m sorry, come again?” Rooster said, genuine confusion in his voice. 

“I said, thank you, Rooster.” Y/N replied, annoyance evident in her voice. 

“Well I see we are back to you calling me by my callsign. Y/N please just let me apologize for-” Rooster began. 

“Don’t push it Bradley. This is the girls table. Thanks for the chair thing but you need to go. Goodbye Rooster.” Y/N said, cutting him off. 

“Right. I will see you later Mags.” Rooster said, his face turning slightly red from embarrassment. He turned and began walking back to his normal table.

“That was tough to watch, Rooster” he heard Hangman remark.

“Yeah Rooster, that was the shutdown of the century.” Payback added. 

Although they all teased him for his setback he couldn’t help but notice the looks of pity from around the table. 

—---------------------------------------------------

“That was sweet of him. Don’t you think Mags?” Phoenix started, giving her a look.

Y/N wasn’t paying attention to Phoenix. She was too busy in her head replaying the interaction that had just taken place. It was sweet of him to do but did he seriously think that would win her over?

“Mags?” Phoenix repeated.

“Huh?” Y/N said, glancing up from the plate of food that she was moving around with her fork. 

“I said that it was sweet of Rooster. Don’t you think so?” Phoenix repeated. 

“Yeah, um I didn’t think he was going to do all that.” Mags replied 

“Mags, you do know you can talk to me, right?” Phoenix asked, her voice sincere.

“Yeah, I um, yes I do.” Mags said, her voice thick from the urge to start crying. 

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Nat asked, reaching over to grab the woman's hand. 

“Do you want to go talk in the bathroom?” 

With just a nod from the other woman, she stood up while grabbing her arm and directed them both to the bathroom. 

“Tell me what's wrong.” Phoenix said, her voice stern. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I want to forgive Bradley so badly. I just can’t. I can’t get the image of his face when he called me a friend. And I know that I can’t be mad at someone for not wanting me back but that's just the thing, he said he liked me too. He confessed it to me but I just can’t get past those words coming out of his mouth. I want to so badly Nat, I promise I do.” Y/N said, she was crying now. 

“Oh honey, I promise it’s going to be okay.” Nat said, pulling the girl into a hug. 

“I need to go, I have so much work to do.” Y/N said, pulling away from the woman. 

“Okay. I promise it’s all going to work out Mags.”

“I hope so.”

To: Rooster

You need to fix this.

  Read 12:33

I know.

Read 12:35

—---------------------------------------------------

“Come on Mags, just come to the hard deck I promise it’ll be fun” Hangman all but whined at her

“Hangman, I really don’t want to come. I want to go home, get on my pjs, eat some ice cream and cry to a Disney movie.” Y/N said, a hand on her hip as she looked at the man.

“That can be done tomorrow.” Hangman said pulling her up, “You are going and thats final.”

“Alright alright Mom. Let me just get my stuff.” Mags said, giving Hangman a look. 

—---------------------------------------------------

To: Bagman

Did you get her to come?

          Read 4:00

You really owe me. 

Read 4:06

     I know.

            Sent 4:12

—---------------------------------------------------

Pulling up to the Hard Deck, Y/N sighed.

“Do I really have to go?” Y/N said, trying to give her best puppy dog eyes. 

“Yes. Now let's go.” Hangman said, stepping out of the car with Phoenix and Y/N. 

An ughhh was heard from behind them. Phoenix letting out a chuckle at Mags antics. The three of them walked up to the doors. Y/N took a deep breath and stepped in behind the duo. Glancing around the bar she took notice of who was here and who wasn’t. Payback, Bob, Fanboy and the others. No Rooster. She didn’t know if she liked that fact or not. 

“He’s not here yet.” she heard Hangman whisper in her ear. 

“I wasn’t even looking for Rooster.” she said, attitude evident.

“Never specified who.” Hangman said with a shrug of his shoulders as he walked away. 

“Asshole.” Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes. 

With a huff she made her way over to the bar. Sending Penny a little wave she watched as the older woman made her way over. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Penny asked

“I’ve been better but I’m okay. Can I just get a beer please?” Y/N replied.

“Coming right up.” the other woman said going to get the drink. 

As Mags glanced around the room she swore she heard a familiar tune. It couldn’t be. 

—---------------------------------------------------

“Well we all know my favorite song but what about you Mags?” Rooster asked.

“I can’t tell you my favorite as I am gatekeeping but I can tell you my favorite love song.” Y/N said with a small smile on her face. 

“Well then, your favorite love song.”

“My Girl by the Temptations.” Y/N replied.

“My Girl?”

“My Girl.” Y/N affirmed.

—---------------------------------------------------

She could hear the song being played on the piano. As much as she wanted to get her beer, curiosity got the best of her as she slowly walked over. Her eyes widened as she saw who was playing. Roos. 

There he was playing her favorite love song and looking so good as he did it. When he looked up from the keys and saw her a smile spread across his face. His face was glistening with a thin layer of sweat as the Hard Deck was always hot with so many people. His fingers glided gracefully over the keys as he played them. He looked so in his element, so perfect. Rooster kept his eyes on her, like nobody else was in the room. Like it was just her and him. She felt her feet moving before she could even register it. She came to a stop right in front of the piano and just watched him with a sparkle in his eye. Listening as he sang along with the melody. 

As the song came to an end people around them started cheering. Some came over to clap Rooster on the back and say how cool it was. If this had been any other day Rooster might have basked in the attention but now he only had one person on his mind. 

“Mags, please just let me explain.” Rooster all but begged.

“Okay Rooster.” she said quietly.

He quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the side door. Glancing left and right he made sure that nobody else was outside.

“Y/N you’ve got to understand that I truly didn’t know. If I had noticed that you even wanted me I would’ve dropped everything to ask you out. But, baby, I really didn’t. I promise you I didn’t. I would do anything to have another chance. Please, I am begging you baby.”

“I’m sorry too, Rooster. I was immature and should’ve just talked to you. I was just upset but I truly shouldn’t have been because I understand that I had no reason to be. But, I guess you aren’t oblivious anymore, huh?” Y/N asked

“No, I am not oblivious anymore. Can I please take you on a date?” Rooster questioned.

“Yeah Roos, you can.” Mags said with a laugh. Leaning in to finally doing what she's always wanted too. “Can I please kiss you?”

“Baby, you never had to ask.”

—---------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you, that's going to be his wife.” Hangman said.

“No way you just stole my line.” Phoenix said, turning to look at him with a annoyed look.

part 3 is finally here!! I hope you all enjoy it! I was thinking about mini stories involving Magnet and Rooster if anyone would be interested? feel free to send in requests relating to them!!

stay hydrated, stay healthy, stay perfect!

-strawberry🍓

[vibingandsimping]

Who else loves random descriptions of intimate positions?

Me, I do. I am incredibly touch starved. Anyways-

Main good route companions + random intimate positions! Pt. 1

All of you villain/evil route lovers, you will be fed soon. (I am one of them)

Forewarnings: Suggestive content, fluff and not proofread

Astarion loves to hook your leg over his shoulder as he kisses you. One hand crawling up that leg from the hip, to the thigh and to the calf. His nails trailing and leaving a tickling grace in it’s wake. You shudder at the touch and squirm a little. He relishes in that and you can feel his cheeky smirk against your lips. You gasp as he nips your lower lip with his fangs. He takes that chance and deepens the kiss between you two.

Wyll intertwines your fingers in both hands. Presses them on the ground up by your head as his mouth lavishes your neck. You can feel his breath against your earlobe and it makes you shiver. His legs trap your thighs and you’re laid beneath him as he stares at you. His gaze speaks only admiration. It’s so intense- and raw. He whispers sweet nothings as he kisses you. You’re sure to find some marks he left on you in the morning.

Lae’zel hooks her leg around your hip. You’re kissing on her chest as her fingers place upon your head. Her little gasps and whimpers are quiet- muffled. She’s trying to conceal how much she enjoys this as ever the strong woman she is. You dig your fingers painfully into her waist and she groans unabashedly this time. You hum approvingly before she takes the reigns. You turned this into a challenge.

Shadowheart loves to place her head on your thighs. No matter how small or large. You can feel her hair tickle your skin, the braid held in one hand as you run along the length of it. Her eyes are closed contently as she savors the warmth you emit. It’s almost unnoticeable the way her fingers gently creep up the outside of your thigh. Not until she’s placed her palm on it and squeezes. There’s a smirk on her face as she continues to feign innocence.

Karlach has your head placed on her chest as she lays. You can hear the infernal engine working under her ribcage. It’s mechanical and unnatural… but the heat she radiates comforts any sort of unease you have. Her hand strokes your head and neck as you bury into the soft flesh of her breasts. There’s a laugh that rocks her body, seemingly amused by how you snuggled into her. You laugh with her too, pressing a gentle kiss against the glowing part of her skin.

Gale wraps your legs around his hips and you instinctively lock your ankles together. His hands slide under your thighs towards your rear, cupping it as he holds your hips in the air. He gazes at you with warm brown eyes as he lowers his head. He plants kisses from the center of your chest down to your stomach. His teeth occasionally nip as his tongue darts out to taste the flesh. He does so until he reaches your pelvis before retracing his steps. Once he reaches your chest, he parts and meets your lips this time.

Halsin holds you in his arms as he stands. You feel weightless in his grasp, even if you’re bigger. Despite his size- people still seem to underestimate how strong he is. He kisses you tenderly as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You’re enveloped in him as his scent washes over you. It smells like forest dew and wild-berries with a hint of his natural musk. He whispers in your ear about how you’re the finest creation nature could bestow him with.

Jaheira seems to regard you almost like porcelain. She’s an older elf and it’d been over a century since she had a lover. Fighting Ketheric Thorm and surviving the curse was her purpose for years. She holds you like you’re going to vanish. Arms linked around your waist and legs tangled in yours. Her nose presses against your skin and she breathes in your scent. You smile softly as you allow the woman to enjoy your presence and touch. Your fingers tracing shapes onto her shoulder-blades as she relaxes like putty.

Minsc holds you tightly and almost crushes you against his chest. He truly forgets his own strength sometimes as he hums happily. He savors the feeling of your heart thrumming against his skin. When you squirm, he blinks and loosens his grip with an apology. You simply smile and shake your head, telling him it’s alright. He has a guilty look as he watches you carefully. You sigh and crawl up a little to press a kiss against his cheek. Like that, he straightens up and holds you again. He’s more careful this time but the grip is still firm enough to hold you against him. What a gentle giant he is.