#a little vanity goes a long way

[lymtw]

"Can I try it?"

Toji's voice snaps you out of the heavy focus you have on your reflection as you apply your lip gloss. You twist the cap back on the plastic tube that presents its Rosé colored contents and turn to look at him. "Hm? You want some?" You ask, extending it towards him.

He shakes his head and pushes it back towards you, stepping closer. "Looks better on you, doll. This another flavored one?" He asks, eyeing the sparkling prominence of your lips. You nod, a giddy smile on your face, which only serves to attract his attention to the feature more.

"It's apple flavored," you chirp.

"Ah. You look really pretty, mama," he says, loving the way your face glows with his compliment. You smile before turning back to look in the mirror. "Hold it." His hand goes to your arm. "Let me look at you a little longer."

"Give me a second. I feel like it's messed up," you say, going into one of your vanity's drawers, where you keep your makeup wipes.

Toji tugs on the back of your shirt, trying to grab your attention. "Put away the wipes and come here. If there's something there, i'll get it."

You sigh, dramatically, closing the drawer before simply turning to look at him, annoyance riddled on your face, because you can feel the excess lip gloss on your skin.

His eyes trail along the area of your mouth, and a grin surfaces on his face when he spots the small, glossy splotch, just below your lips.

"You look silly," he teases, entirely fascinated by the pretty, barely messy sight.

"Thanks," you respond, sarcastically, to which he hums, a wordless, yet, equally sarcastic 'you're welcome'. "You didn't mention it when you first looked at me. A little rude, don't you think?"

His hand reaches for your waist and he pulls you closer to him. Once you're right in front of him, he wraps his arm around your lower back and keeps you pressed flush against him, so he can look down and stare on at your lips.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it."

You know better than to swoon over the sound of his voice and that longing gaze he has set on you.

"You always say that. It's like you want me to walk around looking like a mess." You crane your neck to look at your vanity, mentally set on wiping the gloss off yourself, because Toji is just staring at the smear.

He's trying not to laugh at how grumpy you are about this. "Ma-" he pauses, a chuckle escaping him. "Just-" He blocks your view of anything other than him. If you turn your head, he follows. "Doll, let me get it for you."

You roll your eyes and begrudgingly look at him, again. "If you're gonna do it, do it, already. This takes a maximum of three seconds, normally."

"Alright, alright. Stop turning away from me," he says, scarred lips still quirked up with amusement. You stand still for him, watching as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw. The gentleness of his touch and the intimate proximity has your heart racing. That and he's taking forever, just staring at your lips. It's a simple swipe of his thumb, what could possibly be taking him so long?

He leans in and juts out his tongue, dragging the tip of it beneath your bottom lip to get the sweet, artificial apple flavor off.

"Ew, Toji!" You snicker, turning away with a laugh. Your hand flies to his chest, creating almost nonexistent distance between you and him.

"What are you saying 'ew' for?" He playfully chides, clicking his tongue. "Face me. Stop moving." You don't even have a chance to turn your head, before he's doing it for you, thick fingers pressing into your jaw to get you to look at him. "You didn't even let me get all of it. Made me smudge it even more, instead."

He's lying. Not about not getting all of it, but about the smudging part. There's barely any lip gloss outside of your lips, anymore. It's the smallest speck, but he'll make it seem like it's messier, just so that he can keep you in front of him for longer, while getting to taste the sweetness of your lips.

"Okay, then get it off. Not with your tongue again. I'll laugh, and this will take much longer than it already is."

"Fine." He smirks, watching the twitch in the corners of your lips as you wait in anticipation for his next move. He leans in, again, and you let out a huff and roll your eyes expecting his tongue, only to be surprised by his lips pressing against the small streak of that sweet, misplaced product on your skin. His quick "cleansing" kisses move up to the corner of your lips and then go higher, before moving along your cupid's bow. Once he's in the middle, he starts going back down, lower and lower until he ends up centering his lips with yours, giving you a proper kiss. It doesn't end with just one kiss. He's picking up every bit of the tacky product on your lips, now, ignoring the fact that he was only supposed to get the excess product. His hands go to your waist, keeping you firmly against him as he carries on with the kisses. He swipes his tongue over your lips, completely clearing them of any sweetness, the gesture causing you to laugh between kisses.

When the supposed tidying came to an end, your lips were wet and shiny, but without a trace of the sweet product that was smothered on them before. Toji watches your flustered expression, mischief lingering in his gaze at your speechlessness.

"It really does taste like apples," he says, earning a deadpan expression from you.

"You overdid it. It's all gone, now." It's hard to stay serious when you see him licking the remnants off his lips. You can see the gears turning in his head, like he's preparing to diffuse your faux irritation.

"No, it's not. You still have some," he says, looking behind you at the practically full tube of lipgloss.

"I can't feel or taste it on my lips, anymore, Toji. What do you mean I still have some?" You say, clearly not thinking the same thing as him.

He takes your hand and drags you over to your vanity. "Put some more on," he says, picking the bright colored tube up and putting it directly in your hand. "Wanna do it, again."

"Toji-" you start, unable to hold in your laugh when you see the random specks of glitter that remain stuck to his lips.

He grins at your the sound of your laughter, before going on to defend himself. "I asked if I could try it, and you offered, so..." He prolongs the word for a couple seconds, unable to find the ending to his sentence.

"So, what?" You prompt, your smile lingering.

"So, I got it indirectly." He smirks. Out of impatience, he takes the tube out of your hand and twists the cap off, before offering it to you, again. "Now, put some more on."

"You're just gonna wipe it off," you argue, shaking your head.

"Only if you mess it up. I can do it for you, if you want. I'm very precise."

He's so eager to do this, that you can't help but sigh and give in. "Fine. You don't have to use so much of it, though. You're precise, but you've also got a heavy hand."

"Yeah, I do," he says, a smug grin on his face. You playfully smack his chest, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself when your laugh slips out at the dirty innuendo.

You stand still, allowing Toji to take your chin between his fingers with one hand, while the other squeezes the tube and brings the lipgloss applicator closer. It makes contact with your lips and he starts spreading it around, evenly. His attention flits between your lips and your gaze, which isn't on him, because having him examine you so closely will lure your giggles out if you focus too hard on it. Toji can see color blooming on your cheeks and feel your skin heating beneath his fingers, so he decides to push it even more.

"This color looks really good on you, doll. One of my favorites. So pretty," he mumbles, as he continues to layer your lips with even more sweetness, definitely more than the necessary amount. You can feel the thickness being dragged back and forth, repeatedly. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, but if you're wearing this, i'll lean in first, every time. I'll even chase you if I have to." His voice is smooth, like he's hypnotized by how stunning you look while wearing something so simple to apply.

You laugh, unable to contain it any longer, then suddenly, you feel the gloss drag out of your lip line, again.

"Aw, damn. You made me mess up." He picks the cap up off the vanity and covers your lipgloss. You mentally facepalm, and your eyes lid when you look at Toji, who doesn't look the least bit upset about you ruining his masterpiece. "Don't worry, baby. I can clean it up for you."

[amoressb]

✦ LATE NIGHT LIVE

PAIRINGS — idol bf!riki x reader

IN WHICH — riki goes live with you and shows off your matching pjs

you were waiting for riki outside of the recording studio patiently. you had a little surprise for him when he came out. before you came to the studio you had saw these cute cookie monster pjs and thought it would be cute for you and niki to wear them together and now here you are.

“oh hey y/n!” you hear a voice say. you look to your left and see sunoo. “hey sunoo howve you been?” you smile at him. “ive been good so far, pretty tired tho. glas recordings over so i can go home now. are you here for riki?” he assumes seeing that you have a little bag saying for riki on it. “yeah got him a little something!” you open the bag for him to see. “aw thats cute, you really do bring out his soft side. he should be getting out now tho so ill see you later!” he waves to you. “byeee!” you smile waving bye to him.

about a minute or two later the door opens revealing your boyfriend. he looks to his side smiling immediately upon seeing you, “hey baby, how long have you been here?” he pulls you in by the waist gently. “mm maybe like 10 minutes ago?” you look away from him thinking. “but anyways i got you a little something here!” you stated getting out if his grip and grabbing the little bag. he smiles grabbing the bag from you and opening it to see a pair of blue cookie monster pajama pants. “really baby?” he states chuckling.

“lets wear them tonight yeah?!” you smile waiting for a response. “yeah but im scheduled for a live tonight, ill still wear them tho okay” he holds you cheek smiling tilting his head at you a little. you say nod happily, grab his hand and make your way home. riki couldnt help but smile at you. you being so excited to match with him and everything, he loved it. he couldnt wait to get home and match with you.

finally getting home, you both immediately went to change into your pjs and a simple black shirt. riki started setting up his live on your vanity since it had a light up mirror while you sat behind him on the couch making sure youre not in the background. riki started the live and comments immediately started rolling in. “hey guys hope youre all well” he smiled waving at the camera.

how was youre day riki !!

“my day was good we simply recorded our bits for some songs then i got surprised by a special someone” he states looking off camera to you smiling. engenes already knew who riki was talking about. you. they absolutely adored you and loved the noticeable difference in riki.

is she with you?

can we see her !!

“yeah shes behind me off camera actually” he looked at you still smiling. “cmere baby they wanna see you” riki holds out his hand to you. you grab his hand smiling cheekily and made your way into the camera.

omg i love her pjs !!

“thank you i just bought them today!” she happily states. “yeah were matching actually look!” riki smiles happily and stands next to you, grabbing your waist gently. you both see the comments going crazy at how cute you guys look. riki turns to you and gives you a kiss on your cheek.

riki takes his seat again and pats his lap looking at you. understanding what he means you take a seat on his lap and almost immediately riki wraps his hands around your waist and lays his head on your shoulder. the engenes see this and they absolutely love it omg.

ni-ki is my standard.

theyre so cute i want what they have !!

idk about you but i want y/n🤷‍♀️

“well you cant have her but you can still keep those edits coming yk” he looks away with a grin. you lean into the camera and wink, “dw im always yours engenes.” riki immediately gave you his signature side eye while loosening his grip on you. the comments started laughing at the scene in front of them. you also started laughing and turned to him, reaching your hand up to his cheek, bringing his face closer to you, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he looked away breaking into a smile. the rest if the live was just you and riki flirting at (many) times and for some reason riki constantly bringing up that he was matching pjs with you. he was just that happy about matching with you.

“bye engenes have a good night” you and riki say waving then turning off the live. it was noticeable you two were tired so both immediately jump into your shared bed getting into the covers cuddling up to each other closely. “that was acute live riki” you say stroking his cheek softly seeing his eyes are already closed. he simply hums and gets closer to you if thats even possible. “goodnight riki i love you” “goodnight princess i love you too” he mumbles sleepily. you chuckle and kiss his forehead and you both went off into dreamland.

* happy birthday to my bby riki !! *

[fairiewonu]

roommate! wonwoo

18+ only!

summary: wonwoo finds your vibrator in the bathroom

warnings: smut, use of a vibrator, reader has a vulva

a/n: my mind has just been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since maestro released. (it’s been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since 2020 honestly)

i've been thinking a lot recently about roommate!wonwoo who you're not super close with. you met him through your mutual friend mingyu, and both of you were looking for a roommate. basically, you’re living together because it's cheap and he seemed nice enough.

you’ve talked with him here and there, and have gotten to know him a little bit. he goes to your college and everyone loves him but he’s sort of quiet and keeps to himself. he likes cats and ordering takeout and if you get home late at night you’ll sometimes find him fucking someone into the couch cushions (he apologized profusely, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. you think about him whenever you’re in your room, your vibrator on the lowest setting so as to not wake him up).

you like to take advantage of the time you have when he’s not around, so whenever he's not home you like to take a bath with good music and your vibrator. although one day you had forgotten your vibrator in the bath and didn't realize until wonwoo had gotten home. you were in your room, still getting dressed when you heard the bathroom door shut across the hall and the shower head turn on.

you weren’t sure whether to run to the bathroom and try and get it before wonwoo saw (you know it's too late) or to act oblivious and pretend everything was normal when he came out. except when you choose the latter, wonwoo left the bathroom with just his towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and headed straight to your room.

"i think you forgot something," he said simply, holding up your vibrator with a smirk. he was leaning against your doorframe as you sat at your vanity, trying to look natural. the mortified expression on your face, however, gave your facade away.

UGHH and i keep thinking about the different ways this could go. wonwoo being smug and holding this slip up against you to tease you whenever he can. whenever he leaves now, he likes to say something like “have a nice bath.” anything to make your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. this goes on for a few weeks until either you or him break and y’all end up in bed together (or better yet in the bath. wonwoo wants to see how you use your little friend on yourself before he takes it and uses it on you).

or, after going into your room initially to taunt you he could just throw you on your bed and use the vibrator on you right then and there. he knows you’re already needy from using the toy earlier. just the click of the button to turn it on has your body arching towards him. he spends the next hour using the vibrator on you, until it dies. then he just replaces the toy with his hands and eventually, his cock.

wonwoo was grateful for your little mistake. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on pretending that he couldn’t hear you at night, using your vibrator on the lowest setting as if you thought the walls were soundproof. hearing you moan his name one night, getting whinier and whinier to the point where he was sure you knew he could hear you.

he could definitely hear you now, as he pinned you to the bed and slammed his cock in and out of you. you’re begging to cum for the fourth time and wonwoo is reveling in your sounds. he flips you over and presses your face to your pillows, continuing a brutal pace as his hand reaches around you to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit. you’re cumming again not long after, but he’s nowhere near finished with you.

he makes up for lost time that night, keeping you up for hours after until you’re both passed out in your bed. the next day, you wake up to sound of your vibrator turning on. when your eyes open, wonwoo is next to you in bed, already spreading your legs apart.

“i found batteries.”

living with wonwoo was starting to have many more perks aside from cheapness and convenience.

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[pynkfairyheart]

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” 

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain. 

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently. 

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip. 

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries. 

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb. 

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend. 

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed. 

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed. 

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature. 

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.” 

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears. 

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head. 

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking. 

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls. 

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second. 

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss. 

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is it possible to have some more Mr Flavour please?

The first thing he notices is the soft mattress underneath him. It's such a stark difference between the bed of his motel and even the bed at his house that Danny knows he's nowhere near his tax bracket.

There is such a thing as too comfortable. The sinking feeling of the plush pillow around his head is entirely like that.

When he blinks and opens his eyes, he finds that someone has placed him in a large bed with a canopy bed. Shifting about tells him that all four of his limbs were tied to the bedposts, and although he's not pulled taunt, he definitely isn't going anywhere without his powers.

The chains used were long enough that he would likely be able to shift about but not get off the bed. It looks like they were meant to allow him to move in the middle of the mattress, but that's it.

Curiously, he heaves himself into a sitting position, mindful of not going too far in any direction, running his eyes over the bedroom he finds himself in. It takes him a moment to notice that everything is themed around a mushroom forest, almost as if he was dropped in the setting of a fantasy novel.

He realized his clothes had also been changed, starting to look at the silk-like tights and tunic. He felt a weight shift when he moved his back to bring his knees up and lean on them. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a pair of wings strapped to his body.

Danny tilts his head before he goes back to surveying the room, and his eyes catch the mirror of a light brown wooden vanity. His reflection looks back at him with carefully done make-up. He has dark navy blue eyeshadow but with glitter resting on them and his cheeks to remember stars, the twinkle-looking kind. White eyeliner was also used to paint sharp butterfly-looking wings from the edges of his eyes pointing towards his ears.

Metal cuffs shaped like pointed ears were added to his ears, and a pin was attached to his hair, which held tiny little daises, even in his few strands of hair.

A jeweled collar is wrapped around his neck as thick as his thumb, with the North Star resting just over his Adam's apple.

The bed he was sitting in had a mushroom top that spanned out with a bright red cap and white poke dots. He could not see it from underneath it, but it looked like his bed was the steam of the mushroom.

Oscar dressed him up like a garden fairy.

"This feels like it was way too much effort," Danny mutters, staring at his reflection. He looks annoyingly pretty, offended the style fits him so well. He thinks he would have made a way better vampire. At least Sam would find it funny. "I have to handle it to him, though; he knows his way around a make-p brush. Wonder if I can get out of here."

Danny tugs on the chains, pulling his limbs as far as they go before a nasty pop is heard, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop a scream. His left wrist is useless, having snapped. A wave of agony courses through him until his healing factor kicks in long enough to snap his bone back, but the soreness lingers.

Phantom was just out of reach still, hidden somewhere underneath his skin.

"Guess not," he sighs. A few minutes pass, and Danny fills the void by reciting the periodic table and their atom masses. But when he grows bored of that, he starts patting his knees to a random beat, making popping sounds with his mouth.

That leads to him singing, at first, a few words from actual songs, then it drifts into nonsense.

He finishes his little jingle for his sodas, creating a rip-off of commercial jingles from home, adding more ecstatic slaps against his knees in a fast-paced drum roll.

He attempts to think of a rhyme for soda, using words he believes aren't real when the wall across from his bed suddenly shifts.

Danny hadn't even realized the open space across from his bed was a door since it blended so well with the flowers that decorated the wall. Oscar stands in the doorway, still wearing his suit and smiling his oily grin. "How is my lovely little fairy?"

Danny waves at him. "Hey, fruitloop. Here to kill me?"

Oscar laughs, steps in, and closes the door behind him. He crosses the room to carefully caress his hair. Danny hisses, but it does nothing to deter the man, who sighs lovingly, "I could never harm you. You're the first of your kind in my collection. Usually, my fairies have lighter hair like those of the forest, but you're from the stars, aren't you? My lovely cosmos fairy."

"Hmmm," Danny squints, "I don't like this. Just kill me."

The man laughs, dragging Danny into a hug by the chain on his left arm. "You are so mischievous and defiant. I should have collected your kind years ago."

Danny allows the hug only to feel Oscar's pockets press against him. He doesn't feel like a key is on Oscar's person, nor does he feel like he is carrying a weapon.

Quick as a wipe, Danny throws out his fist, nailing the older man between the legs. Oscar wheezes, but not enough to make him stumble. He squeezes his arms tighter, encaging Danny, and the pulled chains limit his movements.

Danny struggles against him until his eyes land on the mirror again, watching as his kidnapper grabs the side of the watch. "No misbehaving."

One click later, the North Star lights up. Shockwaves of electricity rush through his body as a scream is ripped from his throat. Distantly, his mind flashes back to the last time he felt this sensation- when he opened the portal on himself. His body spams about as Oscar coos into his hair, muttering reassurances until the power dies.

"Good boy. Such a good boy.," Oscar mutters as Danny gasps against his chest. "A good fairy can be mischievous but not misbehave, right?"

Danny opens his mouth to snap at him when he notices a glow in the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, staring at the familiar sight of Phantom's glow, feeling his heart leap with joy as his healing kicks in. He wonders if he finally got his powers back.

He wills his body to flout, to sink through solid, or even to vanish from sight, but nothing happens. He gains a new piece of his other half, but not nearly enough to turn into him. There is only a glow to his skin for now.

Oscar obviously sees it, for he gasps with delight. "My star fairy, shining for me."

Danny headbutts him, but even though he causes the man's nose to bleed, all he does is laugh and pet Danny like a cat. Another button press has the chains retreating into the wall, flinging Danny back on the bed, spread out and unable to move.

The teen frowns when Oscar eventually leaves him, promising to build him a galaxy room soon. A few hours go by, and a dull ache builds up in his limbs, but eventually, the man returns, setting up some glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the top of his bed. He rewards Danny's "good" behavior by allowing the chains to grow, and he's back to being able to move on the bed.

Days go by like this when Danny attempts to force the man to use the button, wondering if he needs electricity to finally have Phantom back. Sadly, nothing seems to upset Oscar, who chalks every act of defiance as a characteristic of his "star fairy" genes.

Eventually, Danny grows bored, even though Oscar regularly brings him food and walks him to a bathroom where he is ordered to shower—thankfully without the man inside but attached to the chains of the shower walls—and retouches his make-up with great care. His clothes are always replaced with new, clean versions, even with the same design. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, but he is sure it's a few days.

"Can I make sodas?" He asks while Oscar is laying behind him, hugging Danny to his chest like the teen was a giant teddy bear. There is, thankfully, nothing intimate about it, just holding him while they slept. "I'm bored."

"Of course. Your kind needs mental stimulation rather than the physical kind, don't you? That's why you made your drinks before; you wanted humans to need your potions." The fruitloop mutters, tucking the galaxy blanket over Danny's shoulder. "I'll bring you things tomorrow."

The following days are a little more leisurely with his soda-making. Oscar had his men find Danny's motel, taking everything he needed to create his Mr. Flavor soda and sets up three tables next to the bed for him to work. Apparently, Danny is his calmest fairy, so the chains around his wrists are removed, and the ones around his ankles increase in length.

Danny can now freely move about the room to his heart's content. Oscar vanishes for hours on end but eventually always comes back every night to watch Danny work on his sodas. He brings glass bottles the two fill, and Oscar hauls them away to who knows where.

Danny can't really tell the time as there are no windows, and the only source of light is one large lamp hanging from the ceiling. However, Oscar's behavior has a pattern. The older man shuts off the giant lamp and lights some fairy lights, leaving the room in a dull glow.

He only does that when the pair go to bed, making him think it's nighttime. Danny carefully counts the hours from there.

One day, Oscar doesn't come back, as the hours drag to what he knows is nighttime. This is his chance. He takes his wooden spoon, the one he uses to mix the syrups in a bored flavor experiment, biting down on it as hard as he can.

Danny grabs his feet, bending them until two nasty cracks are heard. The wood muffles his scream, but even as his healing attempts to fix the damage, he yanks and pulls his limb until it slips through the metal cuffs.

Once they land on the ground with a clack, Danny is hit with a wave of nausea. His tunic is coated in sweat, his head is swimming, and he doesn't feel Phantom, but Danny is free.

A few minutes go by when his healing gets to work to fix the damage as he drags himself to where the door is. The chains had allowed him to wander there, but he never attempted to pry it open.

Today, he not only tries, he succeeds. His bare feet return to a healthy state, allowing him to stand in the doorway. Outside his colorful galaxy, slowly losing the first theme bedroom, is a long grey hallway filled with other doors.

Each door has a number painted in a large black font.

Danny glances both ways, sees no one, and sprints down the hallway on his right. He makes it all the way to the end, where all that's visible is a single door. He looks over his shoulder to where he came from and finds that his room is the last one in the hallway, showing no exit.

He gulps, praying this is the way out while carefully twisting the door numb as quietly as possible. Thankfully, no soul is in sight when he pushes the door open.

The first thing he realizes is that the space is much smaller than his cell, looking more like a broom closet than anything else. Inside, a chair is set up in front of multiple monitors that are all handing over a large desk. Two file cabinets are on the side, but that's all the room there is for.

Squinting, Danny realizes it's a security system. Getting closer, he watches as various light brown hair people dressed as fairies are shown chained up, moving about their rooms frantically and fearfully.

They are all forest themes with a number on the corner of the screen. Danny realizes he knows those numbers and glances back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the numbers are in the same font and color as the ones on the screens.

Well.

Danny hums, rummaging through the office in search of keys. He is alight with dying, but he doubts the other people Oscar has kidnapped are Halfas in waiting. There is nothing on the desk, so he turns his attention to the file cabinets

Inside are deranged notes on fairies' habits. Records of their diet behavior and a shockingly large amount of physical exercise for each kidnapped person are documented.

Apparently, where Danny, a star fairy, needs mental simulation, the forest fairies need to do HIT training mixed in with random types of Dance to keep them happy and healthy.

Number 4 was tap dancing, while Number 7 was doing ballet. It was so unfair. He would have loved to develop some muscle here, making his new desire to break into the grid storage easier.

Maybe he could shock Phantom back. The next drawer has his bottled sodas, which clack against each other. A note about storing his potions for future healing is on top of them, and Danny's face twitches.

Fruitloop.

He considers the drinks before deciding the other captives may need an energy boost to help them leg it when he sets them free. He grabs a premade hanging water cooler, swinging it over his shoulder after checking to make sure his sodas are inside.

Eventually, Danny finds a ring of keys at the bottom of the last drawer. After confirming that the exact numbers are painted on them, he rushes out of the office. He arrives at number 1 with a cheer and flings it open.

A man in his mid-twenties jumps a good foot off the lofted tree-shaped bed. He is also dressed as a fairy, but instead of Danny's blue and purple hues, this one is in different shades of brown, and his face is clean.

A similar color to the one Danny wears is wrapped around his neck, but the centerpiece is a large oak tree instead of a star.

Danny grins, holding out a bottle of cola. "Hey man, want a drink?"

The stranger only has chains around his wrists, which means he can scramble to the back of the wall the second Danny speaks, "What?"

"Oh, by the way, I'm doing a prison break. You in?" He laughs, swinging the keys around his other hand.

Hours later, Number 1—he refused to give Danny his name after the boy attempted to rip off the collar on their necks. Apparently, explaining that he wanted to feel the zap all over his body instead of wanting to set Number 1 free was "alarming"—it had helped him free all nine captives.

The Halfa was the youngest among the group, as everyone else was at least older than twenty, though it looked like ages ranged from early twenties to late forties.

The only things they shared were chestnut hair and earth-themed fairy costumes. Danny stood out for more than just his manic grin and bubbly personality. He offered one of his sodas at every rescue.

Everyone had accepted a drink from the overly cheerful child, who eyed Danny with distrust but was willing to follow him through the last door. It led to a ladder drilled into the wall. Danny volunteered to go up first, ensuring the coast was clear after forcing a latch to open above him.

Oscar had stashed them in a bunker far outside Gotham's city limits. It took some coaxing, but Dannt got the group to wander through the darkness, holding hands so as not to lose anyone. His powers weren't entirely back, but he's always been able to see a bit better in the dark than his friends.

He chatted the whole time, offering more bottles whenever someone grew too anxious. He spent twenty minutes describing all the flavors he made for his sodas, taking careful steps through small dips in the uneven ground. It seemed the bunker was on a hill, isolated from people.

Eventually, they caught sight of a road, and everyone breathed a breath of relief when a car came into view. It was three loops of curling roadways down below. Still, it passed under the only light post, showing a sleek black model that indicated wealth.

Number 3- who also refused to tell him her name- was in the process of thanking the heavens that someone could help them when Danny demanded that everyone drop.

It was gratifying when they all did it without a second thought.

"That's Oscar's vehicle. He drove it at the restaurant." He hisses as the car rounds the cliff's side, nearing them. The air grows cold as the rest of the victims try to hide in the shadows.

It won't work. Despite the fact that they are on high hills, there is no coverage. The second Oscar's headlights were within reach so he would see them.

Danny considers the sobbing Number 3, her once joy now gone, and realizes she doesn't want to be found. Unlike him, if she gets hurt, she won't unlock the powers that had once made him unbreakable.

He takes off his cooler and hands it over to Number 1 with a soft command: "Stay low, and no matter what, don't try to save me."

"What-"

Danny stands from his hiding spot, flinging himself over the edge of the cliffside in a familiar leap and landing with a loud thump on the lower hill. He drags himself to his feet, running in the opposite direction of the group, singing at the top of his lungs his new Mr. Falvor jingle.

Oscar's headlights fall over him as the man hits the brakes. A second of silence later, the car turns on its wheels with a loud screech as Danny rushes to the edge of the second loop.

"My Star! What are you doing!?" Oscar cries, but the tone sounds amused as Danny flings himself over the edge with a cheer.

"Come catch me! I want to play a game!" He calls out, ignoring the ache of his knees, and takes off in a run the second he lands. He hears the roar of the motor as Oscars round the side, foot on the accelerator, and laughs alongside Danny.

He barely makes the leap when the vehicle smashes against the road railing. Oscar had attempted to run him over.

"Oh, you naughty star fairy!" The car is thrown in reverse and starts down the much longer road as the man driving it sings Mr.Flavor's jingle. Danny doesn't look towards the victims, worried he'll give them away, as he whoops loudly and takes over into a sprint.

The longer road bought him time, but now it's just him against a speeding car. There is no light down here, and he forces himself to be as fast as possible. He can hear Oscar getting closer, but he pushes through, wanting to put distance between them and the other kidnapped people.

He uses the fact there are trees alongside the road to his advantage, but beyond that is a cliffside and the crashing waves of the sea. He could jump, but even if that brought back Phantom, Oscar would potentially cut his losses and turn back, catching the hiding group. He weaves through the barks as Oscar drives behind him, yelling about punishments and naughty fairies.

He gets pretty far, he thinks, the hill with the bunker long behind him, looking much smaller when Danny runs out of trees. Then it's just him and the open space. Oscar's headlights bathe him as the man jumps off the road, speeding until the motor sounds like a roaring monster.

Danny can't outrun him, so he doesn't. He stops, twists on his heel, and spreads his arms wide open. He doesn't close his eyes as the lights get closer, and he sees Oscar's mad, flushed face seconds before the metal rams into him.

"KID!" A horrified cry fills the air as Danny is thrown from the windshield. It's like time has slowed down.

He manages to turn his head in time to see multiple police cars come to a stop just a few feet away from him, a man in the process of throwing himself out of his car, one arm stretched toward Danny.

His face is twisted in horror, but Danny recognizes his eyes. It's the masked man who felt guilty the day he was kidnapped. Ha. He knew he was an undercover cop.

Danny hits the ground hard, rolling three times before he lies broken and tired. His skin is glowing, and his hair puffs up a little, like it was electrocuted, but that's the only real chain besides the multiple wounds on his body.

Phantom's powers are still not entirely back.

He feels numb as the background noise of the police swarming Oscar is heard, with one of the Gotham heroes leading the charge with a war cry. Danny can't bring himself to turn his head but watches Red Robin fly by on his motorbike, aiming the front wheel hood of Oscar's car.

He uses that as a springboard to launch himself through the front windshield- already cracked by Danny's body, and attacking the driver like a beast. Police near the car, all with guns pointed and shouting.

Someone drops to their knees in front of Danny blocking his view. It's the same undercover cop who is talking fast and desperate, but Danny can't really understand him because of the ringing in his head. He feels his healing factor finally start, but it's much slower than normal.

Hands carefully turn him onto his back so they can put some pressure on the bleeding coming from his neck. Glass had smashed against his flesh there, and Danny hadn't even noticed.

The man's desperate face fades in and out of focus until his healing finally pops his ears, and sound rushes through his senses.

"-going to be alright!" The man is screaming. "Hang on, kid. Hang on. What's the ETA on the medics!?"

"Five minutes! Keep putting pressure on his wounds, Grayson!" someone shouts back out of Danny's eyesight. Hmm, dark spots are appearing in his vision now. He was going to pass out soon.

He should tell Officer Grayson about the rest of the Numbers before he does.

"The Others...."He coughs, spitting some blood. The man's face spams.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," he commands, but Danny ignores him, forcing his hand to raise and point to where the group was hiding.

"The others...are hiding....I lead....Oscar away.....from them. They need help.....please." He babbles, watching tears gather in the man's blue eyes. He blames himself—Danny can see it clearly as day—for putting the Halfa in this position the day he helped the rest kidnap him.

Obviously, he needed to do it to find the rest, but that doesn't stop the guilt from eating him alive right in front of Danny. He forces his face to twist into a smile.

"Don't be sad....I told you....I wanted to be a ghost." His words are a bit clearer as his healing throbs around his throat, but it's all he can handle. He fells himself, fading as the look of devastation clouds Officer Grayson's face. Just as Danny passes out, he mutters. "Delete Oscar's footage of my soda making. It's my secret formula."

He surrenders the blissful darkness as the ambulance sirens fill the air.

[wonryllis]

HIGH ON HEELS FOR YOU.

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.

( NOTES. ) enhypen as starstruck bois. fluff. fem!centered. lowercase intended. unedited. 860wc. requested. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests open!

⋆ ─ LEE HEE-SEUNG. 이희승 boy can't take his eyes off your feet quite literally. from the moment you bring them out he's staring at the pair, watching your pretty hands put your pretty feet in them, tying the little pretty ribbons around your pretty ankles.

"baby, are you wearing that one?" heeseung asks, his brown orbs glued to the pastel green pencil heels you grab from your closet. slowly moving closer and sitting beside you on the vanity couch as you put them on carefully,"it's so beautiful, it even goes with your nails!" you laugh at the enthusiasm in his voice, everytime you wear heels he just babbles so many compliments.

⋆ ─ PARK JONG-SEONG. 박종성 jay is relatively composed even though in his mind all he can think about is how beautiful you look in those blue heels he just bought for you the other day. for him it looks even prettier because he got them for you, he choose it for you.

"aren't these the ones i got you from milan?" jay walks over to the full mirror in your closet as you admire how the baby blue wedges look on you, his hands circling around your waist and chin resting at the crook of your neck. "i knew you'd look so so pretty in them," you nod giggling when he press a fluttering kiss to your exposed shoulder before admiring you in the mirror.

⋆ ─ SIM JAE-YUN. 심재윤 you best believe he's the one putting them on for you. eyes sparkling the way they compliment your dress, oh also he putting the dress on you too. he just wants to be the one to doll you up his pretty little girl who just needs to sit and look pretty.

"let me choose!" jake rushes past you into the closet, quickly sliding open the doors and going through the bunch of dresses and heels you own. when he finds the dress he wants, he helps you put it on through every step. as for the heels he goes down on his knees, guides you feet in them and ties the pretty white lace around your ankle,"like a real doll, my doll, so pretty,"

⋆ ─ PARK SUNG-HOON. 이희승 he literally has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. always walks behind you cause he lovess the way your hips sway from side to side when you walk in your heels. and the way you look so confident he's down bad for it.

"angel, you're so beautiful. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?" sunghoon rambles walking just a step behind and pausing a second too long at the doors of the elevator as you get on first. at the party he's literally gatekeeping you from others,"can't believe you're all mine," sneaking little neck kisses and jaw kisses here and there to show you off at the same time.

⋆ ─ KIM SUN-WOO. 김선우 he's such a hype man for you, always encouraging you to put on your pretty heels for him. when you get tired he'll always offer to piggyback you or carry you princess style. also loves holding you close by your lower back, such an opportunity for him.

"my baby is always a beauty," sunoo gushes having his hand around your lower back as you walk through the party you're at. gushing and asking everyone you two talk to "isn't my girl so pretty?" and how lucky he is to have you. "we'll be leaving, my baby is tired," when he notices your discomfort, bending down and signalling you to get on him,"come on, your prince will bring you home,"

⋆ ─ YANG JUNG-WON. 양정원 you can see it all in his face, the way he's at a loss for words, the way he moves around you everything. but he also worries if you might twist your ankle or trip so always holds your hands and leads anywhere and everywhere you go.

"here, hold on to me love," jungwon offers his arm when you reach a pair of steps that are too steep. and immediately after intertwining his fingers with you to guide you safe as he walks just a step ahead supporting you. "you look so pretty in heels but you know i dont wan' you hurt," he says pressing a kiss to your forehead and then after to your lips, tightening his grip.

⋆ ─ NISHIMURA RI-KI. 西村力 if he's not saying anything just know he loves it. and if he starts complaining that he'll not carry you back if you get tired just know he'll take off your heels for you and make you wear his shoes while he holds onto them and walks back bare foot.

"there i saved you princess," riki grins slyly, holding tight onto your waist after you accidentally trip on open air and grass. his hand stays there for a moment as he helps you stand straight, tucking a strand of hair that fell on your eyes. he immediately scoops you up and places you on a nearby bench. then taking off his shoes and your heels,"put them on pls, hm?"

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii

[adore-laur]

FOR THE THIRD TIME

what the hell, sure. welcome back dadrry!

——

It's the usual time of night when Harry prepares his mind and body for a healthy eight hours of undisturbed sleep. And by undisturbed, that doesn't include being woken up by either of his daughters. It's not so much an interruption as it is a natural part of being a father. With years of practice, he's now a master of curing midnight wakings from nightmares, sugar rushes, sicknesses, and those fussy sleep regression phases.

Secretly, he loves the challenge and reward of it all. There's nothing better than calming a baby's cry or tiring out a toddler's hyperactive brain. Even when he does it while half-asleep, the feeling of being needed by his children is unparalleled.

After putting the kids to bed, Harry has a set of rules for himself: take a scorching hot shower, drink a mug of chamomile tea, and put away his phone and laptop. It creates an inner warmth that relaxes him from top to bottom. After expeditious kitchen shifts followed by hands-on parenting, the last thing he wants is eyestrain and an aching pulse at his temples.

He'll often read a mystery or historical fiction novel to guide his thoughts away from work. It's a simple pleasure to get lost in the pages, lit only by the bedside lamp as his eyelids grow heavy. He'll bookmark whatever page is the culprit of his sleepiness and save it for tomorrow. No printed words are worth a crick in his neck. Afterward, you'll eventually join him, and he'll spend his last minutes of consciousness with his skin pressed against yours, breathing in your familiar scent.

Tonight's routine goes a little differently, courteous of you. Harry manages to take a shower, adding a dose of meditation toward the end, and is blowdrying his hair when you peek your head past the bedroom doorway. Your gaze searches for him, roving over the empty bed and open closet until it lands on him standing in the connected bathroom. He shuts the dryer off, sensing you have something of importance to tell him. You're dressed in pajamas already, the matching silk two-piece hugging your curves and providing him with glimpses of skin he was deprived of all day. Lord knows the thin material draped over your bare breasts will be the cause of greedy, wandering hands under the covers later. He nearly groans just thinking about it.

Blinking himself out of that lovely fantasy, Harry lifts his eyes back up to your face. "Hi, baby," he says, setting the dryer down and fluffing his unruly hair in the mirror. There is something so intimate about seeing his and your reflection right before bedtime, in the low light after a long day. The domestic simpleness of living together, sharing a space, and coming home to each other is a delight he always revels in.

"Hey," you say, smiling and leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll wait until you're done."

Still staring at you in the mirror, Harry grips the sink's edge and hangs his head dramatically. "Why must you torture me with those pajamas?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. You sleep nearly naked every night."

He finds you in the mirror again, his eyes heavy with lust. "And does it torture you?"

"I'll never tell," you reply, although a pretty blush stains your cheeks—a clear giveaway.

He smirks and says, "Give me a second. I'll be right there." He turns his attention back to his hair, but not before catching a brief flash of you practically skipping to the bed. With a warm feeling caressing his heart, he digs through the vanity drawer and finishes his routine, which consists of a spritz of sea salt spray in his curls, two swipes of Old Spice deodorant on his armpits, and a layer of maple-flavored lip balm that you'll probably—most definitely—kiss off within the next hour.

Flicking the light off, Harry makes his way to where you're sitting on the bed with a taped cardboard box in front of your tucked knees. It's only the size of half a shoebox. He sits and rests his back against the upholstered headboard, waiting for you to speak.

"Did you order a package from somewhere?" you ask, pushing the box toward him.

Harry frowns, his eyes narrowing as he tries to recall purchasing anything online recently. "I don't believe so. Why, did you?"

"No. It was on the front porch." You shrug, also confused by the mysterious box. "Must have just gotten delivered."

"Huh," he says. There's no return address, just a To: Harry Styles, and it leaves him stumped. Is it from a neighbor? A secret admirer? A stalker who is currently watching him through the window and waiting for him to open it?

New fear unlocked: a box with unknown origins.

Tearing his suspicious eyes away from the window—where thankfully no one lurks—he picks the box up and shakes it cautiously. Something inside shuffles, sounding like a solid object cushioned by something softer. Good grief, did he order something nonsensical while somnolent?

"I'm scared," Harry says bluntly.

You take the box and flip it all around like there could be a message hidden somewhere. Grinning, you say, "This is exciting. I love surprises."

"Then you should open it."

"Let's open it together," you suggest, crawling into his lap. With your back against his chest, Harry rubs his tired eyes and silently agrees. Sleep will only come harder if that unopened box sits menacingly throughout the night.

You seem unfazed by this random occurrence, but that's just how you are. The woman he married embraces the unpredictability of life and coaxes the curious nature he thought he grew out of as an adult. Now, staring at the harmless box, Harry follows your lead and digs his fingers into the topmost slit covered with flimsy tape. The cardboard gives way, and he opens the flaps slowly as if a wild animal might leap out.

He notices you aren't looking at the box's contents. Your eyes are trained on him, the eager expression you previously wore now softened.

"What's in there?" you ask, your thumb stroking the intrinsic lines and curves of his palm.

Harry looks from you to the box several times, not understanding the shift in mood. You nod, encouraging him to reveal the secret. He discovers a white fleece blanket, small enough in size for his brain to fire a synapse that he can't quite comprehend just yet.

"A blanket," he says with utter confusion. "Who would send me this?" When you quirk your lips to the side, he takes a shot in the dark. "Is this from you?"

"I don't know. Let's see the blanket." Your voice has gotten hushed.

Harry carefully takes it out, the material soft and lush. Again, he realizes it's small, not large enough to cover a full-grown person. Not even a child.

At that moment, during those few seconds where Harry's brain connects the dots, is when he shakes the blanket out and reads the embroidered words Baby Styles. He freezes, staring at the cursive letters stitched delicately into... a baby blanket. As he tries to process everything, you set a pregnancy test in his loose grasp, the lightweight plastic heavy with significance. His body jolts with awareness as he frantically holds it under the lamp, his hands beginning to shake. The two lines are as clear as day. Not faint. Not just a possibility. Positive.

It isn't a complete surprise. There were serious, sit-down conversations about growing the family one more time. Questions of, Are we ready for another one? and When's the right time? were answered with mutual confidence. Then it was just a matter of trying, though not as stringently as the last two times. If it was meant to be, it would happen. There was no rush. There's beauty in taking things slow and not relying on hope alone. It requires patience, maybe even a little fate, and now Harry fully understands that good things come to those who wait.

"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear, not able to contain the joyous laugh that punctuates your statement.

Harry falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling with blurred vision. "This is real, right? You're not pranking me?"

You straddle his bare torso, beaming at him like an angel. "I tricked you with the box. But this—" you grab the test and vulnerably hold it in your palms—"is real. We have an appointment in two weeks."

Harry sits up quickly, anchors himself to your waist, and pulls you back down on the mattress with him. You giggle, limbs tangled and breathless with excitement. "Fuck," he says, kissing every inch of your neck. "I've been dreaming of this." He brushes your hair back with gentle fingers. "Another baby."

"Could be twins or triplets. You never know."

"Wouldn't that be something," he muses, not even mildly frightened of that inconceivable thought.

Happy tears drip from your lashes. "I'm sure it won't feel real until, well, you know..."

Yeah, he knows. He had the privilege of watching you bloom twice. Each time was slightly different, with varying symptoms and measurements. What remained the same was your radiant beauty that somehow became even more pronounced as the pregnancies progressed. It was remarkable to witness. He couldn't believe you were able to create life so gracefully.

You take Harry's hand and place it on your lower stomach. There's no physical proof since it's far too early, yet he knows it will sneak up on him, and before long, he'll be cradling a crying baby in his arms. For the third time.

"Can we keep this a secret?" Harry asks quietly. "At least until you have a cute bump that can't be ignored anymore."

"Can you keep it a secret?" you tease. The last two pregnancies were revealed to family and friends, both times spoiled by him. Apparently, he was making it obvious by the way he touched you and the "hints" he wasn't aware he was dropping. The first time, during a summer get-together with your side of the family, he honestly doesn't remember holding your cousin's baby girl and cheekily saying "I'm preparing." The backyard went eerily silent until you shouted the news to save his ass from fumbling through some half-baked explanation. The second time, during Christmas dinner, he really doesn't remember his hand drifting so evidently to your bump that you hid under a loose sweater. He may have been tipsy, so when his mother pulled him into the hallway and gave him a knowing look, he couldn't help but nod bashfully to confirm her motherly intuition.

"I'll be good, I promise," Harry says, making a show of locking lips and throwing away the key.

You cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his. He melts into your sweet, tender kiss that he can't live without. "It doesn't matter to me. But I definitely want to get past the first trimester in case..." Your voice trails off, and Harry nods to show he understands the unspoken prospect.

"I guess I'm just feeling protective already," he murmurs, his hand traveling down your thigh. "Want you and this secret all to myself."

"You're a greedy, greedy man," you say, shifting your hips.

He groans. "It's these damn pajamas."

"Oh, you have nine months of torture ahead. You know why?"

"Why, sweetheart?"

You sigh. "Because there will come a time when these pajamas won't fit anymore. And poor me will be in the third trimester in the late summer, which means it'll be too hot to wear anything to bed."

Harry's jaw hangs open, filthy fantasies flashing through his mind at warp speed. "Yeah? Well damn, I better take advantage of the precious time I have left with them." He snaps the waistband of your shorts.

You laugh loudly, the sound filling the room like it was always meant to, and Harry takes it as an invitation to dive under the silk.

——

[chrissv4mp]

♱ dress. . .

based on this ask a little while back 🤍

the soft light of your vanity mirror and billie's bedside lamp set a comforting mood in between you and your girlfriend. she was in the bathroom, fixing the white dress shirt beneath her blazer. meanwhile, you were sat at the vanity she built for you just a few months ago, checking your makeup and fixing any little mistake your careful eye caught.

a shut bathroom door was the only thing that divided you two. and billie was the reason for that, telling you earlier that it was "bad luck" to see you in your new dress before the date. when you reasoned that rule was only for weddings, she simply shushed you and locked herself in the bathroom along with her outfit.

and now billie was biting her lip in anticipation, eyes gazing down her own body in the mirror for any mistakes or spots on her blazer she might've missed. a soft, impatient sigh fell from between billie's lips as she tossed her head back against the wall, eyes shutting gently as she tapped her foot against the tiled floor.

"ma, are you ready?" she called, walking over to the locked door. one of her hands rested against the wood, the other snaking down to the door knob, ready to turn it and burst into the room to see you in your new dress.

she's been begging to see you in it ever since she got you the short, skimpy piece of fabric for christmas. and now, after two weeks, she'd finally be able to see you in it. yet the wait seems so long, and she honestly doesn't think she's ever been more impatient than tonight.

with one last brush of your mascara wand, you twist it back into the container and put it away inside your makeup bag. standing up from your little stool, you smoothen out your dress and then call out for her, "come out, bil!"

in what seems like a millisecond, billie is stumbling out of the bathroom, stepping into the bedroom quickly to see you. her eyes gravitated toward your body and the way the little black dress hugged your curves so perfectly, the hem stopping just a few inches lower than your ass. billie smirked as she stepped closer, unable to take her eyes off of you.

"fits so well, baby girl," she comments underneath her breath, hands reaching out to pull you closer by your waist. billie bit her lip, eyes traveling up your body to your pretty face, "you're beautiful. my pretty, pretty girl."

you blush upon hearing her praise, eyes averting from billie to her blazer. your hand rests just above her chest, fingers running along the hem of her blazer, your smile widening, "look at yourself, love." you compliment, finally gaining the confidence to look into her blue, piercing eyes again.

with a playful chuckle, billie grabs your hand and steps back, twirling you around and taking in every angle of your body with the new dress on. when you stumble after the action, she catches you in her arms, pulling you into a warm hug and kissing your neck in the process.

billie murmurs sweet nothings into the open air as she takes a few moments to admire you, breathing in deeply in an effort to control herself. she didn't even want to go out anymore, but she had made a reservation—there was no way of getting out of this.

"damn, mama," she whistles, smiling up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"y'look so good... i just wanna eat you." billie jokes, but the undertones of her voice scream that it's anything but. she kisses her teeth, fingers running along your sides.

you roll your eyes at her words, shoving her shoulder softly and going over to the closet to grab your purse. when you come back over to billie, her hands all over you once again, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. her breath on your own lips is addicting, and you can't help but lean in to kiss her sweetly.

the kiss goes on for no more than a few seconds as you pull back before your girlfriend gets carried away. as proof, she chases your lips, her breath shaky and eyelids hooded.

she whines like a little kid whenever you pull away from her embrace completely, "y/n..."

LETTERS. woah okay did i FORGET how to WRITE????

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: fic for #13 on the 13th! i love mat and squeaks so much and the fact that you guys love them so much too just makes my heart expand like the grinch’s 🤍 they’re my favorites to write for and i hope you guys enjoy this one! so much more mat and squeaks to come 🥰

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of past miscarriages, mentions of fertility issues, anxiety, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy and all that goes along with it

summary: you and mat have an early christmas gift for talia (and inadvertently, the rest of the family too)

It’s way too early in the morning, cold and dark outside when Mat finds you in the bathroom, head in the toilet while you vomit. He gathers back your hair in a fist and brushes the stray wisps off your forehead. Otherwise, he’s quiet, just providing support for you.

You finish with one last dry heave and he holds your hand while you get shakily to your feet, leaning your free hand on the countertop. He keeps a hand solid on your lower back while fishing out a miniature bag of oyster crackers from a drawer in the vanity and sliding the Listerine bottle closer to you.

One swish of mouthwash and a few oyster crackers later, you’re feeling better. Not even close to perfect or normal, but better.

Mat opens his arms for you to step in and lean your cheek against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your upper back and yours loop to rest at his lower back. He’s warm and smells like the bergamont and lime Aesop soap bar in your shower and Tide laundry detergent, a little like animal crackers too, which is probably leftover from Talia waking up after he got home from Toronto the night before and making him come lay in her bed with her until she fell back asleep. Of course, Mat had fallen asleep in the too-small bed, the both of them snoring quietly when you left your bed to go find him.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he mumbles against the top of your head. His breath ruffles your hair and you snuggle closer to his chest. The worn fabric of his undershirt is soft against your cheek.

“And three days,” you reply, stomach flipping slightly. Whether it’s nausea or anxiety, you’re not sure. Likely a healthy combination of both.

“And three days,” Mat agrees. His hands rub circles over your back and you’re soothed enough that you could go back to sleep. Too bad you have a million things to do today, things to check off your list with only three days to go before Christmas.

“Maybe we should wait,” you say after a beat of comfortable silence. “Maybe we should wait for fourteen or fifteen weeks. It’s longer.”

It’s safer, you think but don’t say.

Thirteen weeks is longer than any of your past pregnancies too, other than Talia’s. But it still feels so early and so fragile. You’re trying so hard to be excited, and you are, but that excitement is tamped down by fear and anxiety.

Mat kisses the crown of your head. “Doctor said everything looked really good last week. And you’ve still got morning sickness, which you —“ He cuts himself off, but you know what he was going to say.

‘Which you didn’t with the last few’ - your symptoms had disappeared so early and you thought it was a blessing, that you weren’t vomiting every morning, that you weren’t as tired as you’d been with Talia. Turned out to be nightmare after nightmare.

But you nod against his chest, feeling grateful for the morning sickness that’s shown no sign of stopping, as long as it means a happy, healthy baby in just over six months. June can’t come soon enough.

“We can wait to tell T,” Mat continues, picking up as if he hadn’t stopped mid-sentence. “If you want. But Doctor Harmon said we were okay to start telling people and I think she’ll really like that Christmas present.”

At a delightfully hilarious five and a half, Talia’s been asking about a sibling pretty consistently for two or so years now. Especially after hanging around the team and seeing all the siblings in action. You know she’ll be thrilled for a baby brother or sister and that’s what worries you a little. If it goes badly, if it ends like the others, it’s not just yours and Mat’s heartbreak. It’s Talia’s too.

And you can handle your heartbreak, but you never want Talia to experience that.

“I can hear you thinking,” Mat chuckles, squeezing you closer to his chest. “I know you’re worried, I am too. But how can we let that perfectly wrapped present go to waste?”

His joke lands and you giggle, knowing the box hidden under your bed with Talia’s gift is wrapped with messy corners and too much tape, a Mat Barzal specialty. He’d insisted on wrapping the gift, “contributing to the process” since you were keeping the real present all bubble wrapped and safe in your womb.

“Okay, yes, yeah,” you repeat a few times, convincing yourself. “Let’s tell T and just…just enjoy the ride.”

Just enjoying the ride is something you’d worked really hard on in therapy the last few years, some days easier than others - the pile of ratty Moleskine journals hidden away in your closet full of your every thought from the past five years, good and bad. The newest one, coincidentally started on the day you’d gotten a positive pregnancy test, is already a quarter full of your up and down thoughts and scribbles.

“That’s my girl,” Mat’s hands cup your cheeks, tilting your face up so he can kiss you, even as you protest, reminding him of your vomit breath. He laughs as he kisses you anyway, mumbling, “minty,” against your mouth.

You shake your head at him, smiling. He squeezes your cheek and guides you back into the bedroom, flipping the light switch off. You settle on the bed, dragging a pillow into your lap and watch Mat start to get dressed even though it’s so early.

“I’ve got practice at 9:30,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. You unashamedly watch his stomach muscles work, ogling his chest even though your libido is temporarily dead and buried. “We can wake T up and tell her before I go or we can do it when I get back.”

“When are you getting back?” You wrap a blanket around your shoulders, smothering a yawn in the fabric. A wave of exhaustion hits and you blink slowly. It’s too early for you to be awake on a normal day, but the extra pregnancy hormones have you both exhausted and unable to sleep. There’s no chance you’ll go back to bed, not when you have to finish getting the house ready for your Christmas guests.

Mat shrugs. “Depends. But probably around eleven, eleven thirty?”

He rummages through his drawers for a pair of sweats and you remind him that he has to go and pick up both sets of parents and Liana from the airport in the afternoon. “So maybe we should tell her now?” You chew at your thumbnail.

Fully dressed in casual athleisure for his drive to the practice rink, Mat nods and reaches over to pull your thumb away from your mouth. You scowl at him.

“I’ll go wake her up,” he laughs. “Even though she definitely could use some more sleep.”

You wave him off. “She’ll nap when you’re gone,” you reply. “Unless, of course, she wants to help me get the house ready.”

Mat raises an eyebrow at you, laughs, and heads down to Talia’s room. You grin at his retreating back and get up to rinse your mouth with Listerine again and give your teeth a good brush. You always feel gross after vomiting. Once you feel fresher and more awake, you change out of your sweaty pajamas and into a Christmas-appropriate dark green waffle knit lounge set. You feel much more human with real clothes on and you pat your stomach, a faint outward curve already forming between your hipbones.

This pregnancy is showing quicker than all the others, physical proof that you’re holding onto for your sanity.

“Mommy,” Talia’s whine precedes her and you smile automatically when you see Mat come back into your room with Talia curled up in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck and her dark curls are wild with bedhead. One leg of her cartoon Grinch patterned pajama bottoms is pushed halfway up her skinny calf and her arms are locked around Mat’s neck, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it between his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” you reply quietly, reaching out your arms for her. Mat transfers her to your lap and she curls up like a little cat, her cheek squished against your breast. “Daddy woke you up, huh?”

You smooth back her hair, the soft scent of her watermelon L’Oreal Kids shampoo wafting up to your nose. The French braid you’d tied her hair into last night is a wreck and you know she’ll complain when you have to brush out the knots later. But right now she’s so soft and sweet with sleep, seeming much younger than her five and a half years. You trace the tip of your finger over the slope of her nose and she wrinkles it at your touch, face relaxing again almost instantly.

“He said I had a s’prise,” she mumbles, blinking up at you. “But Christmas isn’t today.”

“Nope,” you agree and the mattress dips when Mat sits down next to you. “Christmas is in three days, but Daddy and I do have a gift for you early.”

That perks her right up, predictably. Talia blinks like a little meerkat, scrambling to sit up on your lap. She looks over at Mat, who’s grinning widely, and then back up at you.

“A gift before Christmas?” She asks, her ‘s’ whistling a little from the space left behind from the front baby tooth she’d lost a few days ago. “How come?”

Mat pulls the box out from under the bed and places it on Talia’s lap. “Because it’s a special gift and we wanted to give it to you early, since you’ve been such an awesome kid all year,” Mat says and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It reminds you that all of your fertility issues and miscarriages weren’t just hard on you, they were hard on Mat and he was a rock throughout everything, no matter what you threw at him emotionally. You reach out and squeeze his knee, giving him a small smile. He returns it with a wink.

Talia pokes her fingers into the corner of the wrapping paper, her sparkly nail polish catching in the light, and gives Mat an impish little smile. “Daddy wrapped this,” she says. “The corners are all wrinkly.”

You laugh at the roast and Mat’s jaw drops in fake outrage.

“They are not!” He yelps, reaching out to tickle Talia’s sides. She shrieks and wiggles, laughter echoing around the room.

“No! No, Daddy! Stop tickling!” She shrieks between gasping laughter and Mat relents, laughing too as he leans back into his spot. Talia’s hair is even messier, her cheeks flushed from laughter, and you can’t wait to have another one running around the house. A lump of emotion clogs your throat.

“I don’t like tickling,” she grumbles adorably and Mat apologies. Talia forgives him and pulls at the paper on her gift again. “Can I open now?”

You and Mat both nod and Talia wastes no time in ripping into the paper. Scraps go flying and Mat gathers them up, crumpling the paper in a ball that he tosses back and forth between his hands. Talia stops briefly when she sees the gift box and then tosses the lid off the side of the bed. You roll your eyes slightly at her dramatics, but then she’s pulling the sweater out of its tissue paper and laying it over your legs.

“What’s it say?” She cocks her head. Immediately, she recognizes the first word, “big,” and then starts sounding out the next, “si-sis-sister?”

You’re holding your breath while she sounds it out, your heart pounding when she wrinkles her nose and repeats, “big sister?”

Talia looks at you and then Mat, frowning while the wheels turn in her head. It takes a second and she repeats, “big sister? Me?” pointing at herself. Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

Mat nods and you grin at her, “you’re going to be a big sister, love bug.”

It’s a surprise when Talia bursts into loud, hiccuping sobs and you’re caught unprepared. Tears stream down her face and she chokes for air, holding the sweater in a death grip, turning her knuckles white. Mat looks at you, wide-eyed and terrified of Talia’s reaction, until she wails, “I always wanted a baby!”

“Oh,” you cuddle her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry and snot all over your shirt. “Oh, my baby, I know. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“I get a baby?” She asks and you nod even though she can’t see you. Tears well up in your eyes.

Mat’s hand rubs circles on her back and he’s whispering quietly to her, inaudible over the blood rushing in your ears.

“You’re going to have a sibling, love bug,” you say into her hair, choking on your own overwhelming emotion. “It’s really big news, right?”

Talia nods against you and you hear her blow her nose against your shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t mind.

She keeps wailing, crying happy tears and mumbling about how she always wanted a baby sibling like all of her friends. It cracks your heart and mends it all at once, knowing how long she’s waited and how happy she is to be finally getting a built-in best friend.

Tears drip down your cheeks and you feel Mat’s hand on your back, pulling you close. You and Talia are folded into Mat’s embrace, his palms cupping each of your heads to keep you close. Her cries settle down to a few sniffles and eventually she pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

Her big hazel eyes, Mat’s eyes, are red rimmed and still watery. You push damp strands of hair off her cheeks and kiss her forehead.

“I’m so happy, Mommy,” she says simply, lunging to throw her arms around your neck and squeeze you in a hug.

“I’m so happy too, TB,” you reply, the easiest and most honest words you’ve ever said.

Mat, never one to be left out, laughs and chimes in, “I bet you’re not as happy as me.” He kisses the top of Talia’s head, ruffling her hair. You can see a suspiciously wet shine to his eyes.

Talia leans from your lap to Mat’s, hugging his neck to tight it almost looks painful. “Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “I’m the happiest. I’m the happiest cause it’s my baby.”

“Hey,” you tickle her sides lightly, “it’s mine and Daddy’s baby too.”

She shrugs and grabs for her sweater again, yanking it on over her head. She pushes her hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands, looking for all the world like an electrocuted mad scientist. “I’m gonna wear this forever and tell everyone I’m a big sister like Reese and Winnie,” she announces proudly, a huge missing-toothed smile splitting her face.

Her smile melts your heart and she starts rolling around on the bed, chanting “big sister, big sister,” to make you and Mat laugh.

You lean against Mat’s chest, his hands coming to rest on your stomach. He whispers in your ear, “I’m so glad we told her.”

“Me too,” you murmur back. Talia rolls back over to you and smooshes her face up against your stomach and Mat’s hands.

“My baby’s in there?” She asks and without waiting for an answer, kisses your stomach and says, “hi baby, I’m Talia. I’m your big sister and I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for your waterworks to start, tears flowing free and fast, to the point where Talia looks a little spooked and Mat has to shepard her downstairs for breakfast while you follow along a few minutes later, still sniffling and wiping at your eyes.

Mat serves you up a plate of pancakes, plain and no syrup to be easier on your stomach, and you kiss his cheek in return. He looks incredulous, “I make celebration pancakes and I only get a kiss on the cheek? Wow, Squeaks, wow.”

You roll your eyes at him and plant a dramatic, loud kiss on his lips, making Talia giggle over her own pancakes. There’s already a smudge of chocolate on her Big Sister sweater’s collar and you can’t help but smile.

Mat’s off to practice a little bit later and then it’s just you and Talia since school is already closed for the two-week break. She’s surprisingly clingy while you get the guest rooms ready for everyone, following at your heels with a handful of Calico Critters clutched in each palm.

She asks a million questions about the baby - when is it coming? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna live in her room? Can we name it Sparky? (Late June, it’s going to be a surprise just like she was, it will live first in yours and Mat’s room and then will get its own room, and no. Definitely not.)

You flip through the pile of Christmas cards that have gone unopened for a few days, enjoying looking through the family pictures sent by all the wives and girlfriends you’ve made friends with throughout the years. A particularly cute family photo of Matthew Tkachuk, his wife, and their son makes you smile. Talia climbs up on a stool to look at the cards with you, pointing out each player that she knows and recognizes.

(“Mommy, did we send a card of me?” “Yes, baby, remember when you took a picture with us and Santa at Daddy’s work? We sent that one out.” “Oh, we should’ve sent the picture of me and Minnie at Disney ‘cause I looked real cute in that, Nana said so.”)

At some point, Talia dumps the Calico Critters back in their designated box and picks up her Bitty Baby, carrying it around and hugging it tightly. The sight makes you wobbly, praying silently that this is the baby that stays.

Mat comes home from practice, wet hair shoved under his Stadium Series beanie, and barely drops his keys before he’s swooping Talia up into his arms and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. He’s got a giddy energy that isn’t just from a good practice.

“Big sister, ready to head to the airport in a little bit?” He asks, gamely accepting the minor blow to the head from a plastic Bitty Baby leg.

“Yes!” Talia shouts. “Let’s go now!”

You chime in, “you’d be so early! There’s still about two hours until the planes land. That’s four episodes of Bluey,” you add, anticipating Talia’s next question.

She frowns, but shrugs and tells Mat, “Mommy said we can’t name my baby Sparky. I like Sparky.”

Mat grins at you and winks. To Talia, he says, “how about we work on it? There’s a long time to come up with a good name.”

You know Talia’s likely not going to give up on Sparky, but over the next hour she offers up Princess Jasmine, Tweety Bird, and Bingo as alternatives. Every time she refers to it as “my baby” though, you feel like you could cry again. Mat was right, telling her was a really good idea.

Until it comes time for them to leave for the airport and you have to tell her, gently but firmly, not to spill the beans. You zip up her jacket, hiding the words on the sweater she still refuses to take off. She’d even refused the option to put another sweater over it. This kid.

“But I wanna tell ‘em,” she whines, batting at the hat you try to pull over her head.

“We will tell everyone,” you assure her, winning the battle. The knit cap is snug over her ears, flattening her dark hair against her forehead. She looks adorably grumpy, a miniature replica of Mat. “But Mommy and Daddy want to surprise them with a Christmas present, okay? It’s our secret. Can you promise?”

Talia hums and bounces from foot to foot, considering. You cross your fingers that she gets it.

“I guess,” she relents, grabbing up a Princess Jasmine doll in one hand and an Aladdin doll in the other. Bitty Baby has been relegated to her crib for a nap that’s lasted more than an hour and you’re nearly jealous of a baby doll.

Mat appears in the front hall with his car keys jangling and a grin on his face. “Ready to go, TB?”

She bounces around, nodding and chanting “yes yes yes” in response to Mat’s question.

You giggle and pat her on the butt. “Save that energy for the game tomorrow,” you tease, getting to your feet and holding the door open. It’s starting to flurry a bit, the light flakes swirling in the air prettily. Mat kisses you quickly on his way out, nudging Talia between the shoulder blades to get her moving.

“Bye, Mommy!” She shouts, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Baby Sparky!”

You wave at them, closing the door just after watching Mat swing Talia around before opening the car door for her to climb inside.

By some Christmas miracle, all three incoming flights - your parents from North Carolina, Mat’s parents from Vancouver, and Liana from London - were scheduled to land within ten minutes of each other, so Mat only had to make one trip to LaGuardia.

He glides the Defender easily into an open spot at the Arrivals curb, praying that the trip from baggage claim to the car doesn’t take everyone that long.

“Remember,” he turns around in his seat, lowering the volume on the Disney Princess medley soundtrack Talia had insisted on, “Baby Sparky is a secret. So don’t tell everyone okay?”

“Okay, but what if I just told LeeLee?” She says, not looking at Mat, but playing with her dolls. “And then you and Mommy can tell everyone else.”

“No,” Mat laughs, despite himself. “You can’t tell LeeLee. Don’t say anything, okay, Tals?”

Talia shrugs and agrees. “Okay, I won’t say anythin’ about Baby Sparky.”

Mat reaches his hand out for a high five and Talia slaps his palm enthusiastically. She makes Mat turn the music back up while they wait and sings happily along to ‘Part of Your World’ until Mat’s phone vibrates with a text and he grins.

“Take a look out the window, T,” he says, pointing towards the airport. “We’ve got some visitors.”

Talia shrieks happily, kicking her legs and waving wildly at her grandparents and aunt as the five of them come into sight. Liana waves wildly back, making a silly face for good measure.

Mat gets out of the car to help with the luggage, accepting a hug and kiss from both moms. Liana punches his arm and then gives him a one-armed hug before helping him with the luggage at the trunk. They both wave off the parents for their help and gesture for them to get in the car.

“Hi Nana and hi Pop and hi Grandma and hi Grandpa,” Talia chirps excitedly as they all get in the car, in one breath in the way only little kids can manage. She tilts her cheek up to get kisses from her grandmothers as they climb into the third row of the car.

“Hi Talia,” Nadia grins, tweaking her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” your mom replies, cupping Talia’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, TB,” Liana calls from the back of the car, hoisting her suitcase into the trunk. “No hellos for your favorite aunt?”

Talia wiggles around in her booster seat to wave at Liana. “LeeLee! Did you know I’m gonna be a big sister?” She shouts the question and Mat freezes.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, remaining extremely still as all five family members turn to look at him. He gives his mother an awkward grin. All three women are aware of the issues you’ve had in the past, he knows. Liana especially since you’d confided everything in her during her visits and on multiple phone calls. When you couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to Mat, he was just grateful that you had Liana at least to confide in.

“Mat?” Nadia prods him for a response.

“Yeah!” Talia continues, oblivious. “Mommy said we can’t name the baby Sparky, but I wanna call it Sparky anyway.”

“Oh my god!” Liana yelps, reaching out to shake Mat’s arm. “Seriously?” She does a little dance in place.

Mat nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, seriously. We told T this morning, but,” he shoots the kindergartener a playful glare, “she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

Talia’s still oblivious, chattering happily to her grandfathers, both of whom have huge grins on their faces. The moms are wiping away tears in the third row, reaching over into the trunk to hug Mat awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you guys,” your mom sobs, overwhelmed.

Mat accepts the huge hug Liana forces on him and finishes getting the bags in the trunk, the honking already starting from other cars waiting at the curb.

Once everyone’s in the car, Liana wedged in the middle seat and already starting to entertain Talia, Mat lowers the music and whistles to get attention on him.

“Look, T wasn’t supposed to tell you guys about the baby,” he says, easing out into traffic. “We wanted to do something special on Christmas, so if you could all pretend that you know nothing, that would be very helpful.”

Your mom sighs from the third row. “It’s going to be so hard to pretend,” she tells Nadia, who agrees. They’d both been discussing a baby shower, which Mat definitely thinks is a little premature, but he can’t blame them for being excited. He’s beyond happy himself.

“I get that,” he replies. “I really do. But remember, I’ve got a fragile, hormonal pregnant wife and she really wanted to surprise you all. Please play along and ignore Talia.”

“Hey!” Talia pipes up, abandoning her doll to Liana’s lap. “It’s mean to ignore, Daddy!”

Mat catches her eye in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, TB. But you did promise Mommy not to mention the baby and here we are.”

Talia squints at him, scrunching her face up and making Liana laugh at the expression. She pouts and kicks at the back of Mat’s seat. “I was excited, Daddy! I was so excited I cried, ‘member?” She grumbles.

Liana tugs at one of her dark curls. “Yeah, she couldn’t help herself, Mat,” she teases. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, promise.”

There’s no doubt in Mat’s mind that the five adults in the car will absolutely ruin the surprise the second they get home, but he crosses his fingers and hopes anyway.

Traffic is light, surprisingly, and you’re waiting at the door when Mat pulls into the driveway less than two hours after he left. You wave as everyone piles out of the car, catching Talia in your arms when she runs up to you.

“Mommy! LeeLee said she brought me sou-soubeniers?” She yelps.

“Souvenirs,” you correct gently, helping her out of her jacket and frowning when you see the sweater you’d forgotten she was wearing. “Go wash your hands, baby.”

Talia scampers off and you hope that buys you a little time to get her changed before everyone sees.

Your parents and in-laws parade into the house, all four of them giving you extra tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Your dad murmurs that it’s good to see you and Mike gives you a wide smile, hugging you for a moment longer than usual.

Nadia cups your cheeks in her hands and just looks at you for a few seconds before shaking her head and pulling you back in for a second hug. Strange.

Something prickles at the back of your neck and when your mom greets you with watery eyes, you know exactly what happened.

Liana shoots you a delighted smirk, wrapping one arm around you in a hug as she passes. “Merry Christmas,” she beams, kissing your cheek.

Mat is last, dragging suitcases behind him and wearing a sheepish expression. You hold the door open for him and deadpan, “blabbermouth junior told everyone, didn’t she?”

“Literally the second they got in the car,” Mat admits. To his credit, he doesn’t try and lie.

“I should’ve known,” you laugh, following him into the house. Your mom already has Talia on her hip, Big Sister sweater proudly front and center as she demonstrates to the grandparents that she can read the words. They all look up guiltily at you and you just laugh more. “Spoilsport ruined the news,” you say, flattening your hand on your stomach, “but Baby Barzal should be here in June. God willing.”

The sudden cheer overwhelms you and gets you teary eyed again before you’re enveloped in a hug that nearly smothers you. Mat’s grinning at you from the safety of the fridge, until he gets accosted by the moms. He pats them on the back, laughing.

After the excitement of the news, you fall into your usual visit routine - changing out of airplane clothes and placing an order from the Italian place that everyone loves before settling into the den to catch up.

“I was going to give you guys these on Christmas,” you start the sentence before you disappear upstairs and return with three boxes in your arms. “But might as well do it now.”

Talia whips her head around, abandoning the bag of pretzels she’d dug out of the pantry and is sharing with your dad and Mike. “More presents? For me?” She asks, clambering over the arm of the couch to fall into Nadia’s lap and poke at the wrapped gift. “Oh, Mommy wrapped this. It’s so pretty. It event has a ribbon,” she chirps, stroking the velvet bow loops.

“Ooh,” Liana laughs at Mat, “burned by your own kid.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Mat rolls his eyes at his sister and when he’s sure Talia’s distracted, flips her off.

“Behave,” Nadia chastises, tone firm even though she’s smiling. Talia’s already pulling the paper away from the box in her lap and Nadia lets her continue.

You curl up against Mat’s side and watch everyone open their gifts - Polaroid shaped Christmas ornaments with the baby’s sonogram in the little photo spot, Coming Soon scrawled in cursive over the bottom of it.

It would’ve been nice to surprise everyone on Christmas morning, but there’s something even nicer about doing it now. With everyone relaxed and excited and able to really enjoy the moment without the chaos of presents and breakfast and stockings.

“Wait?” Talia squints at the sonogram. She pokes her finger against the black and white image. “Is that my baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum watching your mom explain exactly which blurry blob is the baby. “That’s the first ever picture of the baby.”

“Do I have a picture like that?” She asks, appropriating Nadia and Mike’s ornament for herself and lying across their laps while she studies the image.

Mat nods. “Tons of them,” he replies. “We can show you later, if you want.”

She hums distractedly and you let the grandparents take over for a bit, spoiling her and distracting her while you relax against Mat’s side, his hand snaking down to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His palm is warm and dry and his fingers draw absent shapes against your skin. He turns the fireplace on from his phone and the room gets cozier, full of noise and laughter and joy.

It’s the best start to Christmas week that you could’ve ever imagined.

And it turns out that everyone knowing about the baby early is a blessing in disguise, because your mom and Nadia don’t let you do a single thing the next day. They get breakfast ready for everyone and the dads get the sidewalks and cars clean from the few inches of snow that had fallen over night.

You try to help, but are shooed away to the couch to rest. Liana and Talia join you intermittently. Your baby curls up on your lap with her Bitty Baby, listening as Liana fills you in on her love life in code that goes over Talia’s head.

Mat’s gone most of the day for morning skate and is back for his pre-game nap before disappearing again around 3:30.

Talia insists on wearing her Big Sister sweater again, but the combined powers of Liana and your mom work to get her to put an Islanders jersey over it for the game. The adults are decked out in gear too and you go for comfort over style in an oversized henley and vest with leggings. Your nod to team spirit is your custom Islander Nikes.

Since the whole family is there and it’s the last game before the holiday break, Mat sprung for a suite and you’re grateful for it because you can relax and not have to worry about Talia slipping away.

Periodically, the other girls pop in to join you and as much as you try to keep her distracted, Talia announces your news to everyone that stops in, chirping, “I’m gonna be a big sister!” with a big, chocolate smudged grin and a few bunny hops.

You’ve never been excitedly screamed at and hugged in your entire life, a permanent grin making your face hurt by the time the second is halfway done.

Mat finishes the game with a trip to the penalty box, a goal, two assist, and the team wins. Maxine Nightingale fills the arena and Talia shimmies along to the chorus, cheering for Mat as he’s announced as the first star and skates over to chat with Shannon.

“Congrats on the win,” Shannon grins and Talia hangs over the glass, waving at Mat. You hold the back of her jersey in a tight fist, ignoring the way your stomach swoops with anxiety every time she lunges forward.

“Thanks, Shannon,” Mat’s face is larger than life on the screen and his smile is megawatt. “Feels really good to get the two points at home.”

Shannon laughs and nods, “I bet! And with these two points and the Ranger loss last night, the Islanders are heading into the holiday break at the top of the Metro. Just another thing to celebrate, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Mat’s lips curl up in a cock smirk that has your dormant sex drive sparking slightly. “A lot to celebrate this year,” he looks up at the suites and you swear he makes eye contact with you, his smile growing more genuine. “Just really glad to get the win with my family here.”

“I’m sure they’re all waiting to start the holiday celebrations with you, Merry Christmas, Mat,” Shannon smiles and the interview ends with Mat wishing her the same and heading off down the tunnel.

“Bye, Daddy!!!” Talia shouts out, waving.

You snatch her back from the glass and she pouts at you briefly before skipping over to Liana to mooch some M&M’s off of her.

“Are we heading home before Mat or did you want to see him?” You ask, sitting down on one of the couches outside the suite. A yawn catches in the back of your throat and your mom brushes her hand over the top of your head. You lean into her touch like a cat, warmed by her affection.

“Let us take you home, baby,” she replies. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” you assure her, passing Liana a baby wipe from your bag so she can wipe the chocolate off of Talia’s face. “T likes to see Mat after the games, so we can all meet him out at the garage and split into the two cars.”

“I wanna see Daddy and Uncle Bo and Noah,” Talia calls out, wriggling away from Liana and the baby wipe she’s wielding.

“Jesus, stay still TB, you’ve got a chocolate five o’clock shadow,” Liana laughs.

Mat is waiting for you downstairs, immediately scooping Talia up and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “My good luck charms!” He grins, hair damp.

“Daddy, where’s Noah?” Talia drapes herself over Mat’s shoulder, looking around for her favorite defenseman. “I wanna show him my sweater.”

“You already showed Alexa,” you remind her. “She’ll

show Noah the picture you posed for. And remember, you’re going to see everyone at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s Christmas Eve party tomorrow.”

Somehow you manage to get Talia in her car seat in Mat’s car, the rest of the Barzals going with Mat too and leaving you to drive home with your parents. Mat kisses your forehead before he gets into the driver’s seat of his car and tells you to be safe.

You nod and end up in the back seat of your own car when your dad insists on driving home. You’re grateful for it, honestly, slumping against the door and yawning. It’s been a long day and you’re definitely ready to head to bed.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom murmurs over the Christmas music playing on the radio. She has her arm extended behind her so she can hold your hand. “Make sure you take care of yourself and if you need me to come and help, say the word. Whatever you need, right, hon?” That last bit is directed at your dad and he nods in agreement, a man of few words.

“Thanks, mom,” you can’t help the waver to your voice. Quieter, you continue, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, my girl,” your mom turns around in her seat and gives you a soft smile. “It’s only natural, after everything you and Mat have been through. But I’m going to go light a candle tomorrow and you’re going to stay positive and in June you’ll have a beautiful new baby to love on.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes, your free hand splayed on your stomach. In your purse, your phone vibrates and you pull it out to find a text from Liana - a video of Talia in her car seat, singing the wrong lyrics to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ loudly and proudly. She’s totally off key, but she’s having the time of her life. Before the video ends, you can hear Mat in the background laughing and saying, “T, next year you can teach Baby Sparky the lyrics.”

Tears flood your eyes again and the reality continues to hit - this time next year you’ll have a second baby all geared up to celebrate their first Christmas.

You can’t wait.

[justinalovee]

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒕

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen × Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Word Count: 592

Warnings: Incest, smut, swearing

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI.

“Hmmm, Rhaenyra, stop it!”

“I know it’s awful, isn’t it?” She says it mockingly.

Three times she had you on the verge of reaching an orgasm, and three times she abruptly stopped just as you were about to reach your peak. She was dragging it out because she knew your husband would be returning at any moment, and nothing irritated Aegon more than seeing you be denied pleasure.

“I don’t know if I can take much more.”

A giggle passes her lips as she teases your wet slit with her finger but never puts it inside. You were laying on your back sprawled out naked on the table in your private quarters, the slick between your legs dripping onto the table. Each time she leaned down, her breasts would brush against your body, but she wouldn’t allow you to touch her.

As expected, Aegon immediately frowns when he enters the room, disapproving of the relentless teasing. “My wife’s pretty wife is begging to cum, and since you aren’t willing to do it, I will make her.”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at his words. “That’s because you spoil her.”

“Oh, because Daemon doesn’t spoil you, sister?”

Aegon and Rhaenyra were typical siblings who bickered, except being Targaryens; they had unusual ways of resolving their issues.

Aegon gently strokes your face, “You never need to beg for me to give you pleasure, my love. But you will need to wait a little longer, as I’ve thought of the perfect punishment for the brat of a princess.”

Rhaenyra’s jaws tighten, but she doesn’t argue with him.

You sit up on your elbows and watch as Aegon removes all his clothes and then goes over to the vanity. Your core tingles; you had a rough idea what he was about to do and thought it was devilishly perfect.

Although Rhaenyra and Aegon had never been intimate with one another, she has on occasion fingered herself while watching him fuck you. The smug look is wiped off her face when Aegon returns with a handful of thick ribbons, the same ones he uses to tie you up with. Her hands are tied behind her back and her ankles to either side of the chair she was now sitting on.

With her legs open, it was obvious how turned on she was; her cunt was practically glistening.

“You will watch as I do what you failed to.”

Aegon wastes no time in trusting in you, his cock sliding in and out with ease because of how wet you are. He starts massaging your breast with one of his hands.

“Fuck, harder!”

“See the way her breasts bounce with each thrust?” Aegon teases. “Aren’t you jealous, Rhaenyra? I get to touch them while you can do nothing but watch.”

It doesn’t take long for you to come when he starts thumbing your clit. Your legs shake as you cry out, “It feels so good!”

To your surprise, Aegon pulls out, he grips your legs and pulls you to the edge of the table, and you start kissing his neck. He chuckles, “How many times did she stop you from coming?”

“Three.”

“Three? Well, I think it’s only fair she watches as I make you come three times then. And if you are lucky, sister, I might even let you taste her sweetness after I've filled her with my seed.”

You turn and look at Rhaenyra, who was pouting; her body was sweaty and her thighs were drenched with slick. She meets your eyes and gives you a wicked smile.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What would the first years be like after 10 years?

What comes after Ever After?

You’ve seen Ace around on TV, but it’s the first time in a while you’ve gotten to see him in-person again. He’s become a jack-of-all-trades entertainer, host of his own variety show, stand-up comedian known for his cruel honesty, and master of magicless magic tricks. There’s not a day where you don’t see his annoyingly bright smile lighting up TV screens.

You’d think that 10 years would have made Ace a little more responsible and mature… Nope. He’s still a sunny and laidback kind of guy, but his sense of humor is still every bit as mean as it was back then, and he won’t hesitate to greet you with a familiar quip. Ace claims he’s “young at heart!” and “still a sparkling youth~!”

The fame has given him a bit of an ego and enhanced his vanity. Ace gloats about his connections in the show biz (did you know he interviewed THE Vil Schoenheit the other day?) and dresses in expensive brands.

He was bratty back then, but now he’s got carefree playboy vibes 😭 The kind of guy that laughs easily, that you feel comfortable talking to—but also the kind of guy that’s hard to pin down himself. Ace is nothing if not charmingly noncommittal in the tasks he sets out on.

When it comes down to it, Ace is loyal to the bitter end. He still has your number and regularly talks with you and Deuce, even pouting and whining if he goes a few days without a response. Ace insists he only does it because he “can’t forget the little people”, but you know it’s just a bluff.

It’s been a long journey for Deuce, but he has at long last achieved his dream of becoming a magic marshal! He’s a policeman in an elite force that tackles magical crimes (though he started off his career as a mere meter maid). He wears his badge proudly and stands a little straighter whenever it is on display.

Not much of an asset during investigations, but you bet your ass that Deuce is always up for chasing, cornering, and cuffing criminals! He's the muscle of his squadron, but also the heart of the group and the only guy willing to play good cop.

He prefers to patrol on his magical wheel as opposed to a police car. Deuce finds it so much speedier—and plus, he gets a rush of adrenaline whenever he’s revving up that engine and chasing down bad guys. If you want a ride, all you have to do is ask! Your old buddy would be more than happy to give you a lift. (He pulls over to help little old ladies cross the street.)

His earnest and hard-working nature have made him popular with the local mothers and grandmothers, who keep trying to gift him free food or trying to introduce him to their single relatives. The local delinquents also look up to him, affectionately calling Deuce their aniki. (On his days off, Deuce goes into schools to talk about his job and how he turned his life around, trying to serve as a good role model in his community.)

He carries around a photo of his mom and another photo featuring you, him, Grim, and Ace in his wallet. Deuce is in the habit so that he’s always got a piece of his beloved family and friends with him. They’re his good luck charms, and he credits them for his success in the force.

Jack is a personal trainer and coach! After his time at NRC, he was inspired by his upperclassmen and wanted to become the kind of person that’s able to support others in their growth, the very same way his own senpai did for him. Jack wants to continue that cycle for the next generation!

He has a reputation for being the “scary looking instructor with a heart of gold”. It takes his clients a while to get used to his face, but he supports them relentlessly and his results are definitely undeniable. Jack works with people of all ages—from kids to the elderly—and instills in them an eagerness to stay active. Some of the athletes Jack works with even went on the compete internationally!

His moral compass is still going strong. Jack actually tries to introduce a new value every month (like “valor”, “compassion”, “honesty”, etc.), incorporates it into training, and encourages his clients to take the time to reflect on what that value means and how they can practice it in their own lives. In this way, Jack not only strengthens their bodies but also enriches their minds and characters.

He maintains a lot of the habits formed around NRC, including going to bed at 10 pm on the dot and waking up at exactly 6 am every day for a protein-packed breakfast and a morning jog. More recently, Jack has added smiling practice and tail control to his regiment. He wants to be more approachable and to get a leash on that telltale wag that gives away his true feelings.

In spite of his best efforts, Jack visibly perks when he’s praised. The walls around his heart have relaxed a bit with time, and he has left the door open to let others in. He plays on adult team sports in his free time, or jogs and lifts weights with a partner spotting him, then they grab a bite together after. A good workout demands good company too, right? You should join him sometime!

He has settled back home in Harveston and helps out with the Felmier apple business! More specifically, Epel is the magical botanist of the family. He concocts various enchanted fertilizers and potions to help produce be at its best or to make the work easier for his village’s aging population.

Epel makes the long treks with his granny to the closest city to Harveston in order to sell his family’s products. (Travel by broomstick is faster than bike!) He hawks their goods like a real pro, his hollering reaching several blocks down. And if anyone gives his granny trouble, he’ll be there to give’m a good time whoopin’!

Thanks to Vil’s training and advice, Epel’s pretty comfortable in his own skin. He knows how to best weaponize his looks to get in an unfair blow in a fight and to make the most sales at the market. A fake smile, a little giggle, and he’s got his enemies disarmed and swooning, customers lining up for blocks, etc.

Unfortunately, he never got that growth spurt he was hoping for, and nor has he bulked up much. Epel's not exactly happy about the circumstances, but he tries to take care of himself in his own ways. For example, it may not be practical to stop and reapply sunscreen every 2 hours at the peak of apple-picking season, but he's got a wide-brimmed sunhat and gloves for the occasion!

His manners are impeccable! ... Well, given the right context. Epel knows when the common tongue is more appropriate (say, for a sale or speaking with tourists), but for friends, he'll bust out his warm and hearty hometown dialect. It's his way of letting you know he sees you as an important part of his family! Come, come! He’ll happily welcome you into his home and feed you to your heart’s content.

Meet the new Chief of Cybersecurity at S.T.Y.X.! Ortho works closely with his older brother (who has assumed the mantle of director from their father) and provides the highest levels of protection possible for their facilities. Along with overseeing security, he also vets and grants clearance to visitors to the Island of Woe.

He looks completely different thanks to his new and improved Cerberus Gear, specially designed to resemble the form of an adult! Combined with 10 years’ worth of knowledge and experience, Ortho has grown up mentally too, so he feels that he fills out this new gear quite well.

He’s accompanied wherever he goes by KB-RS01 and KB-RS02! Ortho has formally adopted them as his canine companions (humans would call them “pets”), but they also help him with surveillance as extra pairs of eyes and get paid in head pats.

He has mastered the art of imitating emotions and can now even synthesize others’ voices! Ortho uses these capabilities to play the occasional prank on the S.T.Y.X. researchers—it keeps the job interesting, and the employees love him for being a fun boss, the one spot of sunshine in the Island of Woe.

His protective functions have been upgraded! Check out this enhanced power laser beam, and all of his new gadgets and gizmos and extra attachments. He’s a one man army, so don’t cross him!

Sebek has achieved full knighthood and serves as one of Malleus’s right hand men. Along with his fellow knight, Silver, they protect Briar Valley and the noble Draconia bloodline. (Baur apparently cried at the knighting ceremony, but will deny it if you ask.)

Gone are the days where he would parade around shouting, “HUMAN!!” and belittling non-fae. Well… Okay, he still acts arrogantly, but there’s significantly less arrogance on the basis of race. Oh, he’ll still grouse, but he’ll also shout at you to aim for greater heights—he knows you’re capable of more than this.

Even though Sebek continues to respect Malleus a great deal, Sebek’s no longer so naive as to idolize his liege. Malleus is fallible and probe to straying into the darkness. Sebek sees that now. And when that happens… his loyal knight will be there with a firm hand and a thunderous voice to direct him back on his path.

He has developed a deeper appreciation for his human father, but won’t openly voice his affections out of embarrassment. Some would call this tsundere behavior— Instead, Sebek will (lovingly?) nitpick and find convenient excuses to help him out when applicable.

Still trains and reads diligently! In fact, Sebek has started a new record keeping initiative back home. That way, the people of Briar Valley can write down history, read it, learn from it, and keep from repeating the mistakes of their ancestors. He has also taken it upon himself to bring in reading materials from beyond Briar Valley to share with the youths of the nation. Sebek hopes that by spreading this knowledge, the next generation will open their hearts and minds to other cultures and races.

[amesemii]

Anything she wants.

A/N: HEY YALLL this took a lil long an im sorrryyyy!!! i haven’t made my rules yet so just don’t act like idiots or ill block you💋💋 this was my first time writing in a while and im a little rusty😩 tryna keep up with yall and the new trends in writing tho!! feedback is always appreciated so please don’t ever hesitate❤️💋.

WK; 1.1k

summary: your father forces you last minute to attend a meeting with him to get you out of the house and you meet a certain someone who wants to give the spoiled girl a try.

tw; nothing really, he calls you mama, he lowk a simp, flaunts his money too😒, daddy’s girl, spoiled yn, just be aware ig

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠

“Y/N please come down, it’s time to leave” your father yells up the stairs, and you rush to tie your heels up. Your father knew you took long to get ready so you don’t know why the hell he trying to rush you now when he only let you know of this event a few hours ago.

That was one of the things your father did that you didn’t like much and he was quick to apologize and get you a gift knowing you wanted to look your best in front of other people,he couldn’t tell his lovely daughter no. You were his pride and joy being the only girl out of 2 children. Your older brother long gone a few hours away with your lovely sister in law and your niece.(who you could argue is more spoiled than you)

So now you’re here in the blacked out car with your dad going to some random business party that you didn’t even wanna be at but at least you’ve got your card(your dads card) so you can sit and online shop while your father mingles with his partners.

You sit there scrolling on Amazon just adding things you think are cute to your cart, not even caring to look to into the details. Daddy will handle that, you think to yourself as you add a new vanity to the cart. You’re just scrolling through things when you hear someone mumbling in your ear

“You sure are a spoiled little girl aren’t you?” You look up startled to see a man that should be described as nothing BUT sexy. Tattoos adorning he lights lined body grillz and chains glistening short black hair and he was looking just SO good. But that was besides the point, why was he all up in ya phone?

“An you sure are nosey” you go back to scrolling on your phone now having had moved on to another store until you feel him sit next to you and you try to ignore him but you can feel his eyes grazing over your outfit, you’re about to speak up but he’s quick to interrupt.

“I’m Constance but you can call me Connie , and you are?” He’s not mumbling anymore and you’re pretty sure you hear a little accent but you’re not sure from what.

You look up at him from your phone and introduce yourself but that’s not enough for him, he wants to get to know you. You look pretty, smell good, and got an attitude. His favorite mix. You guys talk for a bit, mostly trying to get to know each other and flirting a bit till he asks a certain question.

“Let me take you out mama”

You actually let out a chuckle at that because there was no way In hell he wanted to fuck with you. You’re too expensive and hard to deal with, you know this for a fact because your brother makes sure to tell you every other day on the phone how you and his daughter make flies come out his wallet.

“You can’t handle me” you say smirking at him and his eyes darken and he’s quick to retort “I’m pretty sure I can handle a little girl like you.” And you scoff cause who tf he calling little?? Ain’t nun lil bout you. “Tuh show me then.” He hands you his phone and you put your number in but he looks confused and excite out and goes to show u other apps.

He goes from cash app, to a regular bank, to a bank you’ve never heard of and then still pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket. “I’m pretty sure I can handle you pretty.” And you can’t help but smile a little bit. “We’ll see Constance.” “I said you can call me connie”

“I know.” You chose to call him by his government because why not try to get under his skin? You look up to see your father coming towards you two and you sit up straight and smile “hey dad!” You start hoping and praying that he says it’s time to go home so you can plot.

“Hi baby girl, are you ready to go?” And you nod your head but go to introduce your father and Connie and they shake hands, you give Connie a side hug as you prepare to leave.

You and your father get to the car and you both slide into the back and he’s quick to start questioning you “so is he your boyfriend?” And you’re quick to say no. You only just met him an hour ago, he was NOT your boyfriend.

the rest of the ride was silent after your father basically played 21 questions. you just chill texting some of your friends and watching instagram reels til a text pops up on your phone.

you had to think for a second about that. did you want to lie and say you had plans or just tell him nothing? you take a second to decide and choose to tell the truth.

you just decide to leave him on read since your ride pulls up to your house. you and your father get out and he asks you what you want for dinner so he can order it and you tell him then quickly get upstairs.

you get to your room and open the door and are hit my a breeze. damn! you always leave that fan on to make sure you don’t get hit but it’s cold as a motherfucka in here.

you go to your closet and pick out some pijamas and go into your bathroom. you turn on the shower and wait for it to get hot and you step in.

you wash your body and just think. did you really wanna go on this date with connie? you know if you were to get hurt your father would handle the situation, so that wasn’t a worry.

you were worried about yourself, you didn’t want yourself to fall for him just cause he makes you feel nice and can give you butterflies. he could be just live everybody else.

but he might not be. it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and by now you already know what to look out for. so you turn off the shower and go out to your room.

you grab your shea butter and body oils, to lotion yourself and get dressed. as soon as you’re done, you decide to text connie back.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself in anticipation of what was to come tomorrow. you were gonna enjoy this

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆☀︎｡Smile Back ... At Me ⏾⋆.˚

Grumpy!Vessel x Sunshine!Reader

grumpy/sunshine, sickfic, housemates, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff goes smut

a/n: there's easter eggs in here for three people 🧍🏻‍♀️

Taglist (that I decided I have now): @inv3ga

“No no no. Don’t do this. Please. Please!” Vessel was distraught. Panicked. Verging on crisis. He stared at himself in the mirror, white knuckling the vanity. “Get it together, Ves. Don’t…don’t.” His breath was ragged…”fuuuuuck...”

How many sneezes in a row was that? 5? Oh…oh they’re still going. You knock on the bathroom door softly. Vessel rips the door open with a scowl, his nose and eyes red from whatever irritant deigned to infect your intrepid workaholic housemate. 

“What?” He asks, deadpan.

“I heard you sneeze like…8 times in a row. That’s concerning.”

“Yes. Thank you, doctor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get cleaned up and go to work.” He looks you up and down. “Think you ought to do the same?”

You look down for a second at your pjs and gasp. Work? “Oh shit! I…hey… wait a minute!” Vessel just titters as he splashes some water on his face. “It’s my day off!” Again, he chuckles and pushes past you. “You know for someone so crotchety with me you sure know a lot about my schedule!” But he’s already down the hall. Of the housemates, Ves was the one you had the least positive interactions with…and yet…you saw each other the most. It just worked out that way with your schedules. Ves could go to the studio or work from home at will, and you seemed always to be home at the same time. 

“You’ve done this on purpose. To torment me.” Ves said once as his phone buzzed incessantly with notifications as you input your schedule in the shared housemate calendar. And, in your endlessly witty, carefree way, you responded “Aw Ves, finally you’re noticing all I do for you!” For the record, Vessel doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone. No. He’s just a little brusque. And short tempered. And he just likes things done a certain way, ok? You, on the other hand, seem too happy to be here. What are you plotting, he wonders sometimes. 

But today those thoughts are dulled by a throbbing pain behind his eye and the annoying feeling of his nose leaking at any moment. By 2:30, he’s ready for a 20 year long nap. He rubs his face in agony as he sits at the control panel. Usually the studio is a reprieve but one of his worst nightmares is unfolding. He’s sick. He has a cold. A sinus infection? Christ…the flu? He has to push through. He has to see this day to the end and finish this…”fuck it I’m done. I’m going home.”

“Literally just asked how the cymbals sounded, man. For fuck’s sake.” Even poor ii wasn’t safe from Vessel’s sick tirade. The two share a silent look of “the hell is wrong with you/me?” 

“Sorry mate,” Vessel rubs his temples and sniffs. “Uhm…yeah…there could be more…definition or whatever. I’ll see you lot later.” Vessel sulks out of the studio and towards the bus stop. If this was a comic strip, he’d be kicking a can with little fumes over his head. Vessel hates getting sick. It throws off his groove. Makes him unproductive. He’s no stranger to powering through but it doesn’t seem worth it this time around. This makes him feel weak. Like once he gets better he’ll need to work 10x harder just to make up for his time off. Make it up for who? Well…the label, for one thing. And ii. Part of his brain says “it’s only for yourself,” but he pushes that aside. Yeah he’s proud but he still needs to prove to everyone else he’s fine. He can manage. Hasn’t he always landed on his feet? Looking out the bus window at the passing houses and buildings doesn’t provide any distraction—just more fodder for his migraine. As Vessel rests his temple against the window, his phone vibrates, but he ignores it. Whatever it is couldn’t make him feel any worse...oh but he was wrong. So very wrong.

You: I’m sure you saw this on the calendar but it’s just us for the weekend. Are you still feeling sick? Want me to get some soup? Let me know. :)

You’re not surprised Vessel doesn’t reply to you. He’s at work and, well, you’re you. As you’re about to text him again, because you reaaaaalllllly want to get a jump on ordering food, he comes through the front door. “Tsk, you look miserable.”

Vessel so badly wants to be snarky. To tell you what an astute observation you’ve made. “I am…where is everyone?” You look at him a bit quizzically and tell you texted him…and that their trip was on the calendar, etc etc. Oh the defeated sigh he lets out! The misery of being cooped up with someone so chronically pleasant might do his head in if this migraine doesn’t first. And maybe it wasn’t your best idea to follow him to his room to ask if he needed or wanted anything, if he was hungry, did he have a fever, can you do— “Have you considered leaving me alone? You’re not my mum and you’re definitely not my girlfriend! Can take care of myself just fine without you flitting about trying to fix everyone’s problems…maybe you should...” He stops himself and rubs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “Fuck it. It’s not worth what little energy I have. Let me know what takeaway you’re thinking.” He shuts the door and leaves you in the hall. Was he suggesting that you spend more time on others than yourself? How dare he? How dare he be right and sound mean about it. But you don’t pout long because he opens the door again, but this time his shirt is off. Your eyes trace the curve of his shoulders…down to the ridges of his chest and abs. Close enough to touch. ‘Stop…he’s sick. And your roommate.’ He sniffs hard. He’s so stopped up. “I…should not be like that. I’m sorry. Pizza?” You look away, feeling shitty after overstepping…he must be really sick if you got an immediate apology. 

“Don’t you think something like soup or…you know what? We’ll do whatever you want.” That elicits a soft smile from him...with teeth no less.. Wait…”you just smiled at me. An honest to god smile...Ves…”

“Oh, sh-shut up.”

After dinner Vessel feels…weird. His head and body hurts…he can’t even think straight. And you notice. He can barely stay awake but there’s no way he’d be comfy on the couch. His long legs…you imagine him trying to curl up and get comfortable like a big dog on a tiny bed. You take a chance and put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you get in bed.” He sighs heavily like you asked him to give up music. “Is it really this hard to accept some kindness?” Apparently that was a shit question because he huffs and takes himself to bed. Fine. Maybe you should leave it alone but damnit he needs help…and attention. You come into his room with your arms full.

“What are you…” But you cut him off by dumping a big blue quilt on him.

“I always always always sweat shit out with this quilt.”

“I don’t have a fever.”

“Oh well, it’ll make you feel better. And…alsooooooo…” you hand him a stuffed puppy with floppy ears and a dumb, goofy look stitched on his face. “Just give him a squeeze.” Vessel looks at the stuffed dog and the quilt but can’t seem to look at you. If anything he’s looking down and past your feet.

“As persistent as my cold, you know that?” 

“You deserve a break. Let me know if you need something…you know where I am.”

“H-hey…wait…” You look back at him, and it’s as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. Did he ever know in the first place? All he knows is that any breath he takes after this night is for something beyond the music. Beyond himself, even though his efforts there are questionable. “Sit with me…for a bit?”

And you did. All night. Waking up next to him hugging your stuffed dog under your “sick day” quilt was such a sight. His eyebrows knit together like he was thinking. It must have been a fever dream, you think, as he groans softly and clutches the dog closer. You want to reach out, move the hair off his brow, feel if he has a fever…caress him. But you have to at least act like you know better. When he blinks awake he gives a lazy smile.

“You shouldn’t have stayed in here. What if you get sick?”

“I could deal.”

“Hm. Maybe you’d accept some kindness in return?”

After his cold finally fucks off, Vessel looks at you differently. Not necessarily because you did something for him. No. There was something different. After he snapped at you, and then later after you two had a long conversation about nothing before he drifted off, Vessel noticed something behind your eyes. God, those eyes. His walls came down. He was defenseless. It’s not like you’re best friends now or anything, but he felt moved to treat you gently. Hell, to smile back at the very least. 

Late one night, long after everyone went to bed, Ves notices your bedroom light is still on. “What am I doing?” He whispers to himself, but apparently too loudly because soon you’re opening your door.

“Oh thank fuck it’s you. Thought I was hearing things.”

“Jus’ me…I…why are you up? It’s 1:30.” You shrug. There’s that look again. He has to dig. He has to pry just a little. Just like you had with him. “Can I come in?”

You nod and let him in, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He sees your laptop out and wants to ask what you were up to, but you quickly put it away. “Better question is why you’re awake, Ves.”

He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “So no one has a good excuse, hm?”

“Hm.” You tease back, gently pinching his arm. He looks down at your fingers on him and his heart flutters. Ves lets his gaze drift slowly up your body…taking in every curve and slight movement before resting on your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“W-w-what…? What are y-?” You try to act nonchalant. 

“Can just tell…something’s off with you.”

You sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. “This…” you put your hands out, “is actually my natural state. Tense. Not nearly as bubbly or…like”

“A sunshine girl?”

“Yeah or…a sunshine girl.” 

Vessel looks at you with a sympathetic smile…he can see that blush dusting your pretty cheeks. He  lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly but then pausing. “You’re knotted up, love. Can I…?” Without even hearing your answer, he moves behind you and rubs your shoulders. It hurts a little, only because you’re so tense. His wide hands cover your shoulders and luxuriously knead into your muscles. “What’s made you so tight,” he rasps close to your ear, “Hm? What’s eating at you?” 

You can’t help it. Your head lolls back to his chest and turns so you can look up at him. “All I do is run around taking care of business and other people. I don’t know how to care about myself.”

He can’t stop himself. Brain shutting down. Hands and lips have a mind of their own now. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like I did. You should care about yourself…I…I could teach you…” Vessel trails his nose up your neck and kisses your ear softly before you jump up. 

“Jesus, dude, you can’t just come in here and…” but fuck it he doesn’t look precious wiping his hand down his face and hiding the strain in his pants. “Oh…fuck… actually you totally can.” Immediately you’re straddling his lap, held in place by his soft hands cupping your face…pressing you desperately into his. His kisses trail hungrily down your jaw and to your neck. He finds your pulse point and claims it with his hot, open mouthed kisses. Your hips grind against him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world…but of course, he adjusted to press his strong thigh against you...you are supposed to do this. Suddenly your thoughts are poisoned with guilt as you realize how tightly you’re squeezing his thigh and how you weren’t being exactly quiet. Vessel gently guides your head down so he can whisper to you.

“I’d take you far away from here…anywhere you wanted…just to hear it…I want to hear what I can make you say…how loud I could make you…”

“V-v-es we-...“

“Shh shh shh. It’s ok. Do you want to stop?” His voice is warm and sincere, like he’s meant to take care of you.

“No.”

“Then let me do this…for you. Some comfort…” he turns slowly to lay you on your back, “would you like that…” his fingers gently trace your breasts and tummy over your shirt… “could make you feel good…safe”…your shorts and panties are thrown off the bed…”when was the last time someone did that for you, darling? Made you cum…just to cum?”…your shirt is lifted, tits exposed to the chilly room and his starving eyes.

“Never.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs as he kisses your thighs and settles on his tummy, “no pressure for me then.” But you’re moaning softly already. You’re a live wire as the hands you’ve desperately tried to avoid fantasizing about explore your inner thighs and folds. His finger glides up and down the length of your needy pussy as he looks up at you…pure bliss etched all over his face in the dim lighting. “Atta girl, love. We’re just here to feel good. Hm?” You hear and then feel a wad of his spit hit your clit, followed by his fingers pressing against either side of it. Vessel wraps his left arm around your tummy as your body chases his touch. “Found something you like, did I?”

“Vessel,” you whisper breathlessly but it’s cut off by a strangled moan. His tongue gently darts out for little kitten licks on your clit. You don’t know if your reactions or what he’s doing is making him whimper like that, but you don’t care. Your hand caresses his hair lazily until you have to grab it and keep him in place. He’s taken your clit in his mouth…something you’ve never experienced. Forgetting every wall you placed around yourself with this man, you let your hips grind shamelessly against his perfect mouth. Vessel’s moans and hot breath nearly push you over the edge multiple times. 

“I…” he exhales, trying to catch his breath and contain himself, “am really going to enjoy this.” His middle and ring finger work into your wet cunt and find your g-spot quickly.  “That’s it…that’s it…you feel that? Feel my fingers rubbing you from the inside, yeah?” You can’t respond directly…you’re too busy squirming and whimpering fuck fuck fuck. It feels like you’re on fire as Vessel licks and sucks at your clit, your eyes rolling as your brain tries to compute that the same spot is being stimulated from different angles. It’s too much. 

“I’m yours…I’m yours….please I’m yours.”

“Mine, yeah? Good. You sound s’perfect…haven’t even had my cock.” It’s a miracle that you aren’t screaming out loud now as he sucks at your clit. Both hands tangle in his hair when he starts thrusting his hips against your bed. He moans pathetically into your clit, his hips landing soft blows into the mattress. “I…I’m sorry.” He stops and quickly pulls off his clothes…you swear you’re cumming a little just from the sight of his cock alone. “See what you do to me?” He breathes heavily, standing at your bedside with his cock throbbing without contact. “Seeing you…let yourself go… enjoying yourself… so fucking hard for you. Could cum just licking you out, babe.” You’re tempted to tell him to try it…but you feel empty.

“Make me yours…”

“How would you have me?”

You’re speechless for a second…he’s really into this. Into you feeling good. “Get on your back, angel.” Vessel does as he’s told and blushes at the pet name. He teasingly rubs his cock against your slit…tells you how tight you felt around his fingers…how good you are for him. You moan quietly…weakly…dreamily as you slide down each inch of Vessel’s cock. The stretch is beyond perfect…not uncomfortable…but still more than any stupid toy in your bedside drawer could do. You grind against him and bounce on his cock seemingly without much thought other than feeling good. And he doesn’t stop you, nor does he grab you and fuck up into your pussy. No…he just lays back like a good boy and takes it. Luxuriates in the feeling of the warm stickiness of your pussy…how it hugs his cock and threatens to drain him. You wince a little as your hips tense; still you weren’t fully relaxed despite your blissful state. 

“I’ve got you.” Vessel pulls you close to his chest, pressing your hips down. “Just lay down on me. Let me feel you.” He moans softly as you lay out, your legs scissoring with his just enough to keep his cock buried deep. Your lips crash together. You taste yourself on him…his mouth…and your mind goes even fuzzier. “Sweet girl…you like being lovey, don’t you? Hm?” His hips snap up and press into your cunt. “Little lover girl??”

“I’m…fuck I’m yours Ves…I’m your girl…”

“Let’s make it real then…” his hips thrust back and forth again before pressing deep into you, holding his cock hard against the limit of your pussy…”I’ll fill you to the fucking brim with my cum…leave my handprints on your ass…and-“

“And I’ll leave…little love bites on your chest,” you add, trying to weigh in and stave off your climax. Vessel groans out in response and holds you in place like a toy as you suck and lick at his soft skin. So much for handprints on your ass, though; he can’t help but cradle your back and head. Neither of you have ever felt this before. The soft, warm middle of equal parts wholesome chemistry and earth shattering lust. What was that in the delicate in-between? You bury your face in his neck and forget the world…forget your name…it’s just him. 

“So tight…” He gently lifts your head. “There she is…mmm. Need to see you…need you to see what you do to me.” Vessel tangles his hand in your hair to help fix your gaze on him. His throat bobs with each broken moan…god he wants to cry out for you so badly. For the way your body melts into his as he rolls his hips up and into you. For the way your slick runs out all over him, making a mess of you both. It’s all too much. You press your forehead to his and bear your hips down. Vessel grabs you and presses his hot, greedy lips to yours not just for a kiss, but to muffle the pornographic noises your pussy rips out of him. The feeling of his tongue on your lips pushes you over the edge. Your fluttering orgasm squeezes and milks Vessel’s cock for all it’s worth, causing him to fuck up into you like a rabid animal. He completely and unapologetically ruins you.

You wake up the next morning curled up against his back. He’s already awake and smiles brightly when he feels you pull him close. 

“Guess what.” He whispers. You barely mumble “hm” back to him, still sleepy and fuzzy from your late night tryst. Vessel chuckles and rolls over, your stuffed whale shark from the aquarium clutched to his chest. 

“Hey! That’s mine,” you grumble.

“Oh and suddenly you don’t share anymore…hm? Not my lover girl when the sun’s up,” he teases. “Anyways…it’s just us this weekend. We have some wasted time to make up for…don’t you think?”

[abbyslvrrr]

Fade into you.

Boxer!sevika x topside!reader

a/n - I really hope you all enjoy this fic! English is also not my first language so I’m very sorry for any mistakes! Anyway I love sevika so much I want her so bad.

Wc: 1258

It was just another day for you, you had just finished up classes and were on your way home from college. Being a nursing student was definitely not easy. You got home and greeted your mother and fed your cats, ladybug, and Leo. You head up to your room and set your stuff up so you can start studying and doing assignments when you get a message from your friend Sam.

Sam <3: be ready at 8pm tonight, we're going out with the others. Wear something cute ;).

You wanted to decline the offer, but you knew how stubborn Sam was, so you just sighed and agreed. You study for the next couple of hours before you decide to get ready to go. You really had no clue as to where you guys were going, you just hoped it wasn't anywhere dangerous. Walking to your vanity, you start applying your makeup, deciding to go for a natural look. After all that, you decide to put on some flare jeans and a black tank top, deciding to just leave your hair as it is. After getting ready, you get a text from Sam letting you know that she and the others are here. You weren't really close with Sam's other friends, but it was fine. You sneak out of your bedroom and walk over to the meet-up spot. You spot Sam and run over to her.

“Hey Sam! Where are we going exactly?” You were curious. Sam was never the kind of person to tell you where you were going until the last second. Her answer surprised you.

“We miss goody two shoes are going to zaun aka the under city to watch an underground fight!” Sam said very enthusiastically. You gave Sam a look that said ‘what the fuck?’ but she just ignored it before dragging you and the others down with her. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but you don't want to look like a loser in front of everyone or Sam, so you didn't say anything. After a little bit, you guys arrive in the undercity. Everything was different here. The people, the buildings, the atmosphere, everything. Staying close to Sam while she's taking you to your destination.

“Sam, is this safe at all?” “Oh absolutely not. We're here though!”

Looking at your surroundings, you notice how there is a boxing ring dead in the center. Did she just take you to see an illegal boxing ring? You notice that there's a bar and dance floor off to the left. God, could this night get crazier? Taking hold of your arm, she takes you guys closer to the boxing ring. People started piling in and crowding around you all, you saw people placing bets and getting drinks. Maybe you should have declined Sam's offer.

You can't hold that though for long before the announcer starts hyping the crowd up. You see one big man enter the ring, but you don't even focus on him because you see a woman enter the ring and shake off her dark magenta-coloured robe. She must've been 6’3 at least, her short brown hair tied up in a bun. Her muscular body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves, her scars made her look intimidating, but in a perfect way. The announcer introduces the man to the crowd, but you don't care, being too focused on the big muscular woman standing in the ring, finally he calls her name.

“AND TO MY LEFT IS THE ONE AND ONLY SEVIKA FROM THE UNDERCITY!!!”. After that, the crowd went absolutely insane. She must be very popular here then. He then tells them it's time to fight. Before the man can get any hits on Sevika, he gets knocked out. 45 seconds, 45 fucking seconds.

The crowd goes absolutely crazy, crazier than before. The announcer announces her as the winner and after that some people leave, some stay and go to the bar. You let Sam know that you are going to the bathroom and that you'll be back soon. You were so unfamiliar with this place, so you kinda assumed where the bathroom was. You find a red door and a similar one beside it, so you assume these are the bathrooms. You push the door open, now seeing Sevika was not on your list for tonight. There she was in her shorts and tank top, her hair now down a cigarette in her mouth. She's looking you up and down, yep, and that is how you get beat up and die!

“I'm so sorry I thought this was the bathroom! I'll leave right away!” she had to understand, right? It was just a mistake, yeah, an honest mistake.

“Relax dove, you look like you're about to pass out or something.” What? Did you just freak out for no reason at all? She's just chilling with this? Feeling relieved, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Sevika just continued to look at you, she couldn't lie seeing you in that crowd made her feel a sort of protectiveness for you. It was weird because everyone knew that Sevika never had relationships, she was a person who fucks and leaves. Sevika knew you and your buddies were not from around here, she'd never seen you before. Your friends have come here before on multiple occasions. It almost made her mad to see you here. You shouldn't be here.

“Name’s Sevika. You probably know that though, Dove. What's your name?” Oh, she wanted to know who you were.

“My name is Y/n. Yeah, I saw you knock that guy out in 45 seconds! That's actually insane.” she lets out a little chuckle and getting up, she walks over to her. She noticed the confused look in her eyes. She really shouldn't feel this way towards you. Why does she feel like she wants to know absolutely everything about you? How your days are spent or how you like your coffee. God. She needs to snap out of it. Love means weakness, Something Sevika can't have. She's only ever known violence in her life and she's never really questioned it. You felt her lean down a bit. She tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I should go now, Sevika, my friends are probably waiting for me.” you fidget with your fingers, feeling a little nervous under her eyes. She backs up after a bit, giving you space. You really wanted to see her again, not wanting this to be the last time you two met.

“Come see me next week, Dove, I'm up again.” you nod and leave her room. God, what did you just get yourself into? Is this finally your way of rebelling against everyone in your life? Why did you feel this way towards Sevika? She's from the undercity, and she's a fighter, and you were the complete opposite. It'll pass. I mean it has, so you can't fall for someone who's from the undercity, can you?

You spot Sam and the others and practically beg for her to take you home. You felt tired and a bit overstimulated. you got to your house, and climbed the tree that's by your window and sneaked into your room. If your parents ever found out you were out this late they'd probably ground you for life. You hop into your bedroom and change your clothes before hopping into bed. The last thing on your mind before you drift off is sevika.

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Thinking about Astarion having to deal with his reclaimed mortality once the initial euphoria of it is wearing off: 

When he’s startled from sleep, woken by his own racing heartbeat. 

Him jumping at the movement in the corner of his eye, only to find it’s just his own reflection staring right back at him, puzzled, before he watches his cheeks redden with embarrassment. 

The sun slowly losing its appeal as time goes on because Astarion keeps getting nasty sunburns after days spent outside, trying to make up for centuries confined to darkness. Whenever he comes home with itching skin and drenched in sweat, he finds himself almost missing hiding in the shadows. 

The odd sensation of feeling more and less at the same time: while some of his senses are now dulled to better suit mortality, others feel heightened to the point of sensory overload—a gust of wind feels like fire licking at his skin and he gets so very anxious whenever he loses Tav in the crowd, unable to distinguish them by the once divine scent of their blood any longer. 

Since he has a reliant supply of his own blood pumping through his veins now, he’s feeling aroused so much easier and more often than not at quite inconvenient times. He enjoyed having sex with Tav before, but now that he’s mortal again, he finds that he’s having to overthink intimacy once again—where his desires used to be driven by burning hunger, lust now feels like a pleasant, more natural bodily reaction. Having to seriously consider contraceptive measures, should his partner be able to get pregnant, is also a rather novel experience for him.  

Bathing still feels as good as before, at least. But where he spent hours in the bathroom out of pointless vanity then, Astarion now has to wash himself because his body would stink of sweat and, well, life otherwise. It will be years before he openly excuses himself for having to use the bathroom whenever nature calls.

And food—food would be the hardest to adjust to. It takes a lot of trial and error to find something that pleases his virgin taste buds (although he swears there’re some odd pieces of memories flashing in front of his eyes whenever he's snacking on wild strawberries or awfully sweet citron tarts). He ends up acquiring a taste for raw cookie dough, shredded cheese and sardines, eating little else for the next two years or so. To everyone's astonishment, he's gotten food poisoning only once or twice.

Astarion is no stranger to pain or injury, but he’s appalled by how long it takes to recover from the most minor cuts and bruises. It’s a well-kept secret between him and Tav that his first common cold had him convinced he was dying for a fortnight straight. 

Crying is much easier now, too.

Ironically, it’s mortality that forces Astarion to strive for more permanent, detail-oriented plans for the future. Now that life is finite, he wants to use the time he has wisely. He might keep travelling the realms until he breathes his last, or settle down, eventually. He might learn a new profession or accumulate some wealth in less honest ways. Maybe, one day, he wants to have a family, heirs to whatever he decides to make his own. 

Once Astarion has come to terms with being a mortal elf again, he realises living is not just about a beating heart. Living is about having endless possibilities but limited time. Choices and decisions that lead to only one thing: death. 

Now that Astarion is living again, he finally understands that death is just another part of the journey.