#and i always always read tags so leave those too

[iamquiantrelle]

OFFSIDES (chapter 1) ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairings: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️💕✨) # wc: 8.16k

# tags: @whoevenisthiz @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @rougereds @jessnotwiththemess @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbriii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes

# summary: nazanin "naz" williams and real madrid star aurélien tchouaméni's casual relationship takes an unexpected turn. after he temporarily ghosts her, leading to leaked photos and public drama, they must face their feelings for each other and try to make their 'situationship' into something concrete. masterlist

Naz stared at her phone for what felt like the millionth time that day. Still nothing from Aurélien. Not even those stupid little notification bubbles that showed he'd at least seen her messages.

"Girl, this is not okay," Destiny said, sprawled across Naz's bed. "I don't care if he's Aurélien Tchouaméni or the king of Spain – you can't just ghost someone like that."

"He's not ghosting me," Naz muttered, but even she didn't believe it anymore. "He's probably just busy with-"

"With what? Call Cama."

"I'm not calling Eduardo."

"Yes, you are." Destiny was already grabbing Naz's phone. "If anyone knows what's up with your man, it's his bestie."

Before Naz could stop her, Destiny had Eduardo Camavinga on speaker. His voice filled the room, bright as always: "Ayyyy what's up?"

"Where's your boy at?" Destiny demanded.

"Who, Aurélien? He was supposed to come chill with me and my brothers today but canceled last minute. Why, what's up?"

Naz's stomach dropped. So he wasn't too busy for his phone. He just wasn't answering her.

"What's up is he's being weird," Destiny said. "Not answering calls, leaving messages on read-"

"Look," Cama's voice got serious, which was weird because Naz had never heard him anything but hyper. "It's been rough, yeah? The whistles at the Bernabéu, then that talk on Instagram... maybe he just needs space?"

"He can't have space right now!" Destiny practically yelled.

"Why not?" Now Cama sounded curious. "What's so urgent that-"

Naz grabbed the phone before Destiny could say more. "Cama, just... tell him to call me? Please?"

Something in her voice must've gotten through because all the playfulness dropped from his tone. "Okay. Yeah, I got you."

After they hung up, Naz's mind drifted to last weekend. She'd been in his box at the Bernabéu, watching him play against Espanyol. Before the match, he'd given her this gorgeous gold charm bracelet – a football charm, an 'A' pendant, little shoes (because she was always teasing him about his sneaker collection), and a graduation cap because she'd just finished her master's.

"So you don't forget about me when you're conquering the world," he'd said, fastening it around her wrist.

Like she could ever forget him.

It was crazy how it all started, really. Destiny had been hanging with Cama and his crew at some fancy club in Madrid, and she'd dragged Naz along. Naz remembered being nervous – she might've grown up following football because of her dad's obsession with the sport, but actually being around the players was different.

She'd known exactly who Aurélien was when she first saw him. Had watched enough of his games, read enough articles. Knew about his move from Monaco, the pressure of that price tag, how he'd proved everyone wrong. The way he moved on the pitch like he owned it, all graceful power and perfect positioning.

She also knew the game. Pretty girls and footballers – it was like this dance everyone knew the steps to but no one talked about. So yeah, maybe she made sure to be at the right parties, wear the right things, catch his eye.

But Aurélien had been... different. Even with everything undefined between them, even with no labels or promises, he was sweet. Attentive. Would send her good morning texts with stupid football memes. Would call just to hear about her day. Would show up at her apartment with takeout when she was stressed about her thesis.

Which was why this silence felt so wrong.

Her phone buzzed and her heart jumped – but it was just another worried text from her other friend Gia: girl what are you gonna do???

Naz stared at her reflection in the phone screen, at the gold bracelet catching the light on her wrist.

What was she going to do? Because this secret... it couldn't wait much longer.

She typed out one more message to Aurélien: We need to talk. Please.

Then she waited, watching those three dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, until finally, they stopped altogether.

And that's when she knew something had to give.

"This isn't like him," Naz mumbled, pacing her bedroom. "You don't understand, Des. I literally spent almost every weekend at his place in Madrid. Flying in from London after work on Fridays, staying until Sunday night. His dog Ocho even has his own bed in my apartment for when they visit."

"Girl-"

"I met his uncle, Des. His uncle. You know how private Aurélien is about family."

Destiny watched her from the bed, concern mixing with something harder in her expression. "Naz, breathe. Your anxiety is-"

"No, you don't get it." Naz twisted the gold bracelet on her wrist. "During the Euros? I was there every day. When France didn't make it to finals, he was... God, he was so wrecked. And I just held him, you know? Let him be upset without trying to fix it."

"Yeah, and that's sweet and all, but-" Destiny sat up straighter, her expression shifting. "Maybe he's giving that same comfort to someone else right now."

Naz froze. "What?"

"You know what I mean." Destiny's voice went gentle but firm. "Quality time. The horizontal kind."

"No." Naz shook her head. "Aurélien isn't like that-"

"Girl, get a fucking grip!" Destiny's braids swung as she threw up her hands. "He's a fine-ass footballer playing for Real Madrid. One of the biggest clubs in La Liga. He's drowning in pussy. He doesn't care about you or that-"

Naz's phone lit up, Aurélien's name flashing across the screen. Her heart jumped until she read the message: what's up why are you hitting up cama?

The tone was all wrong. Cold. Accusatory. Like she'd violated some unspoken rule by reaching out to his friend.

Before she could respond, Destiny snatched the phone. "I'll respond," she said, pushing her braids over her shoulder. "This nigga got you acting funny and I don't like it. You're not playing the game right, Naz."

Right. The game. The jersey chasing game that Naz was never fully invested in, not like Destiny who had WAG dreams and vision boards. For Naz, it had started as an escape from thesis stress that just happened to come with designer perks. Yeah, maybe at first she'd thought about the lavish vacations and gifts, but then...

Then she'd actually gotten to know him. Seen how he'd light up talking about tactics, how he'd spend hours playing with Ocho, how he'd call her at 3 AM just to hear her voice after a tough match.

Destiny handed the phone back, and Naz's eyes went wide at the paragraph her friend had sent: accusations of him being ain't shit, demands about why he'd been ignoring the SOS signals, a whole essay of confrontation.

Those three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Naz's stomach twisted – she knew exactly what was happening in his head. Aurélien hated confrontation. His whole vibe was chill, level-headed, always taking the higher ground. He'd rather walk away than—

Aurélien: fine Naz. Whatever you say. I thought if anyone knew what I was going through would be you right? Guess not. Guess that psychology degree seems worthless. Sorry I ignored you - had a rough few days and needed time to cool off and see that therapist you wanted me to get so badly. My communication sucked but you know I always get back to you. Well I thought you did. ✌🏾

That peace emoji. Naz's heart dropped. She knew what that meant – bye, adios, I'm done. Aurélien Tchouaméni had officially clocked the fuck out.

"No no no," she frantically typed back, but the messages wouldn't deliver. Called, but got that automated voice: "Sorry, the number you dialed cannot be reached at this moment. Please hang up and try again."

She tried again. And again. And again.

Because that was another thing about Aurélien – sweet as candy, yes, but also petty as all hell when pushed too far.

He'd blocked her.

She stared at Destiny, horror dawning. "What the fuck was that, Des?"

The bracelet felt heavy on her wrist now, each charm a reminder of everything she might have just lost. And the secret she still hadn't told him? The real reason she'd been so desperate to reach him?

It sat like lead in her stomach, growing heavier by the second.

"He blocked you? Wow, what a dead beat ass-"

"Des, shut up!" Naz screamed, making Destiny's eyes widen in shock. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, "This isn't what I wanted, what I needed, what the... what the baby I'm carrying needs."

Des let out a dry chuckle. "What do you even mean?" She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. "You can milk this, bleed him fucking dry. Do you know how many gossip blogs would kill to have this info? Like you can be set-"

"Des, I don't give a fuck about that, not right now." Naz's voice cracked. "I just found out I'm pregnant and my child's father just blocked me. What's not clicking?"

"No one told you to be out here fucking him without a condom anyways." Des rolled her eyes. "I mean who rawdogs an athlete unless that was your angle all along..." Her voice trailed off as she literally pondered for a second. "Hmm maybe I should have Vini knock me up?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Naz screeched and threw a throw pillow at her.

"Bitch, that hurt," Des said as the pillow hit her face.

"I don't care, Des. You're out here plotting about trapping Vini instead of worrying about your friend. You know how fucked up that sounds?"

Des rolled her eyes again, adjusting her clothes as she stood up from Naz's bed. "Girl whatever, I was trying to help you out, remember? You wanted all the nice pretty things and I told you these men don't care about us and your dumb ass got pregnant. Not my fault." She smoothed down her shirt. "Now you have two choices: abort that baby or have it be your golden egg. And as your friend, I'm gonna do what's best for you."

"Des, don't do anything stupid. You know how Aurélien-"

"I don't give a fuck. You're out of options, Nazanin." Des's voice turned hard. "You're not having any luck finding a new job and how will you support a baby?"

The words hit like bullets because Des had a point. Her current job barely covered her bills, and sure, she could treat herself occasionally when Aurélien wasn't spoiling her, but a baby? In her two-bedroom apartment with a roommate who hardly ever leaves?

But abortion...

"I can't do that," Naz said, sinking into her office chair. A tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head. The stress was already too much – she could feel it in her bones, in the constant nausea she'd been fighting all week. "I can't do that without letting him know about it first."

"Well too late for that 'cuz you got blocked," Des said, her words cutting deeper than she probably meant them to.

Naz pressed her hand against her still-flat stomach. Just this morning, she'd walked into that clinic thinking about getting an implant because clearly, she and Aurélien needed to be more careful. Instead, she'd walked out with news that changed everything – six weeks pregnant. Six weeks of a life they'd created together, probably during one of those weekend visits where they'd gotten careless, too caught up in each other to think about consequences.

She thought about Aurélien, how attentive he was with everything else in their undefined relationship. How he'd notice if she was tired or stressed, would remember her favorite foods, would call just to make sure she got home safe after late flights. He deserved to know about this baby. He was equally responsible for this life they'd created, even if right now he was being petty and blocking her because of Des's stupid text.

"He needs to know," Naz said finally, wiping her eyes. "I don't care about money or support or any of that shit you're thinking about, Des. But he deserves to know he's going to be a father before we make any decisions."

"And how exactly are you planning to tell him when he's blocked your number?" Des demanded. "Gonna show up at training? Send a carrier pigeon? Call Cama again?"

The reality of the situation hit Naz full force. Here she was, six weeks pregnant, blocked by the father of her child, and her best friend was more concerned about how to manipulate the situation than actually helping.

Actions meet consequences indeed.

A week of silence felt like forever. Not just from Aurélien, but from everyone – Cama stopped answering, even Jude ghosted her. Funny how quick football friends disappeared when you weren't in the inner circle anymore.

Now here she was, sitting in a clinic exam room, trying not to throw up for the third time today. Earlier, in the waiting room, a heavily pregnant woman had smiled at her, offered advice about ginger tea for morning sickness. Naz had managed a weak "thanks" before the nurse called her back.

The exam table paper crinkled under her as she thought about how spectacularly everything had blown up. Des had taken matters into her own hands, sending those pictures to the gossip blogs – Naz at Aurélien's matches, in his private box, wearing his gifts. She'd thought maybe it would get his attention.

Instead, all she got was internet hate. Thirsty. Clout chaser. Another jersey hunter. People digging into her past, trying to find dirt. And still nothing from Aurélien.

"Have you considered termination?" The nurse asked gently.

Naz turned to stare at a poster about fetal development, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"You don't have to do this, you know. There's other options."

"Like what?" Naz snapped, immediately regretting her tone.

"Adoption? Or maybe raising the baby yourself? I'm a single mum and I have this group of women who are my support system. Do you have that, Nazanin?"

Naz shook her head. Gia would help if she wasn't across the continent, but Des? That bridge was burned. And moving back to New Jersey? To her mom and stepfather's judgmental house? They'd treat her like shit even if they loved the baby. But isn't that what being a parent meant – sacrificing comfort for your child?

"How long do I have to decide?" Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

The nurse explained the timeline, mentioned seeing a counselor first. "You seem like you have a lot on your mind right now. I don't think it's best to make these certain decisions at the moment."

"But I-"

"Nazanin, abortion is a serious thing to consider. Your mental health is important as well. Are you in contact with the child's father? Maybe-"

Her phone rang – unknown number. Her heart dropped to her shoes.

"I'll give you time to answer that." The nurse slipped out, leaving Naz alone with her racing thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Naz, what the fuck are you doing?" Aurélien's voice came through angry, other voices murmuring in the background.

"Give me the phone, Aurélien," she heard his uncle say, followed by scuffling.

"Nazanin, it's Bertrand." His usually warm voice was formal, distant.

"Hi," she croaked, sniffling.

"Nazanin, what is happening? I understand you and Aurélien are not seeing each other anymore but to put it on the blogs..." His disappointed tone broke something in her. She let out a sob. "Nazanin, are you okay?"

"Give me the phone, uncle." Aurélien's voice commanded. Patience had never been his strong suit when he was upset about something.

"Djani, I am handling this for you. Please show patience." Bertrand's tone was firm, used to managing his nephew's temperamental moments.

"Is Aurélien there?" Naz asked quietly.

"I can put the phone on speaker. Hold on." More scuffling and rustling filled the line. "He's here. He's listening now."

"Hey Naz." Aurélien's voice softened, sounding like her Aurélien again, the anger seemingly dissipated.

"Am I still your favorite artist?" She couldn't help asking, remembering their inside joke about sharing a name with the rapper.

He chuckled. "Always." Then quoted their favorite Nas lyric.

She smiled through her tears. "I'm sorry. Destiny thought-"

"I never liked that girl," Uncle Bertrand huffed.

"Yeah... she's something."

"Her spirit is not pure. I told you, Aurél, that it wasn't Nazanin's fault."

"It is my fault though. I told her to-"

"She manipulated you, Nazanin," Uncle Bertrand cut in. "We can apologize once you're back in Madrid."

"Uncle-"

"You need to apologize, Aurélien. We need to make this right."

"I know I do. I should've never sent that text to you, Nazanin."

"I know, Aurél. We made some mistakes."

"I was so upset-" Aurélien started, but Uncle Bertrand interrupted again.

"We can talk when she gets here."

Aurélien opened his mouth to say something else, but then the hospital PA system crackled overhead, and his tone changed instantly. "Nazanin, is everything okay? Why are you at the hospital?"

Her protector. Her lion. Always the one watching out for everyone else, even when he was angry.

"Aurélien, we need to talk."

"About?" His confusion was clear in his voice.

She heard Uncle Bertrand's soft "fuck" as he figured it out.

"Naz, what's going on?"

One deep breath. Two. Her news, the one she'd been holding onto for almost two weeks, exploded out of her mouth: "I'm pregnant."

Uncle Bertrand's louder "fuck" echoed through the phone, but from Aurélien? Nothing but silence.

"Aurélien?"

The line went dead.

Naz stared at her phone, hands shaking. Called back immediately – straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. A third time – same thing.

"Fuck," she whispered, then louder, "Fuck!"

The nurse chose that moment to return, taking in Naz's tear-streaked face with practiced sympathy. "Everything alright, love?"

"I just told him," Naz managed, still clutching her phone. "I just told the father and he... the call dropped and now he won't..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't voice how much it hurt that in this moment, this massive, life-changing moment, Aurélien had gone silent again. Or maybe Uncle Bertrand had taken his phone. Or maybe...

Her phone buzzed – a text from an unknown number. Her heart jumped until she opened it:

Nazanin, this is Bertrand. Aurélien is... processing. Give him a moment. We will call back soon. Please do not make any decisions without speaking to us first.

Us. Like she was dealing with Tchouaméni Management now instead of the man who'd held her through thunderstorms, who'd dance with her in his kitchen, who'd absentmindedly massaged her scalp while watching match footage.

"Do you want to reschedule?" the nurse asked gently. "Maybe take some time to talk things through with the father?"

If he ever calls back, Naz thought bitterly. But she just nodded, gathering her things. "Yeah, I think... I think I need a minute."

Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number:

Don't leave the clinic. Please. - A

Two seconds later:

I'm booking a flight. Stay there. Please.

Then from Bertrand: He's on his way. Hospital name?

Naz's hands were still shaking as she typed out the clinic's name and address. Three dots appeared almost immediately:

Flight booked. 2 hours. Don't move. Don't make any decisions. Please.

The 'please' caught her off guard. Aurélien, Mr. Confident, Mr. Always-In-Control, saying please. Thrice.

"The father's coming," she told the nurse, her voice steadier than she felt. "He's... he's flying in."

The nurse's eyebrows shot up. "Flying in? From where?"

"Madrid." Naz wiped her eyes. "He plays for Real Madrid."

Understanding dawned on the nurse's face – she must have seen the gossip blogs. But instead of judgment, she just squeezed Naz's shoulder. "There's a private waiting room down the hall. I'll make sure you're not disturbed."

Naz nodded gratefully, following her to a small room with comfortable chairs and warm lighting. As she sat down, her phone buzzed one more time:

Je suis désolé. For everything. For blocking you. For not listening. For not being there when you found out. I'm coming. We'll figure this out. Together.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, still flat but now feeling somehow different. More real.

"Your papa's coming," she whispered, then laughed wetly at herself for talking to a cluster of cells that couldn't hear her. "He's... he's actually coming."

********************************************************

Two hours and a half later, the door opened, and there he was – Aurélien in a Nike tracksuit, hood pulled up, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything hanging between them.

Then the duffel bag hit the floor with a thud, and Naz was moving before she could think, crashing into his chest as tears started falling. His arms came around her automatically, one hand cradling the back of her head like he always did.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so fucking sorry."

She pulled back enough to look at him, wiping her eyes. "I know what we are, what this was supposed to be. I know this isn't what you wanted-"

"How far along?" he cut in, his voice soft but steady.

"Almost eight weeks."

She watched him do the math in his head, saw the moment it clicked. "Mallorca." She nodded. "Fuck." He ran a hand over his face. "I wanted to go raw that time and look where it got us." A bitter laugh escaped him. "I'm sorry about blocking you too. Too much was in my head, I was angry-"

"We can worry about that later," she cut him off. "Right now we need to think about... about this."

They sat down next to each other, and Aurélien pulled his hood off, clasping his hands together. "What do you want to do?"

Naz tried to keep her voice neutral, clinical. "It's just cells right now, so... an abortion would be-"

She saw something flicker across his face, a tightening around his eyes, but he nodded. "If that's what you want."

She scoffed, shaking her head.

"What?"

"You'll let me go through with it?" Fresh tears were falling now.

"Naz... this is your decision too. You said that if you... abort the baby, it'll be fine. Is that not what you want?"

"I don't know what I want, Aurél."

"I don't either. This wasn't planned."

"No fucking shit!" The chair scraped against the floor as she stood abruptly.

Aurélien held his head in his hands, pulling lightly at his fresh taper fade, before letting out a groan. "Naz, we have to make a decision, okay? We can't keep running around and arguing about this. You're eight weeks pregnant, Nazanin, we have a timeline to... make a choice."

She folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"Naz... I really don't know..."

"Do you want me to abort the baby?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nazanin." He rolled his eyes.

"Tell me, Aurélien... do you?" More emphasis this time, demanding an answer.

He went quiet, biting his bottom lip in that way he did when he was really thinking, probably running through every possible outcome in that tactical mind of his. The silence stretched until she was about to scream, when-

"Yes..." His eyes met hers, and she felt like someone had punched the air from her lungs. Those eyes that were usually so warm, so playful, now held something deeper – fear, uncertainty, a desperate need to make the right choice. "And no. Would having an abortion make things a hundred times easier – yes, but what about where that leaves you? We're 24 years old, Nazanin – this isn't like changing coursework at university. This is a baby. A human-"

"It's cells right now!"

"Don't give me that, Nazanin!" His shout made her flinch slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but don't try to be stale with your emotions. I know you are thinking about it too. A baby will make things hard for the both of us. We have to figure what we have out and make decisions on how to raise that baby. Would we just co-parent or would we be together?"

"I'm not gonna be a baby mama." Her voice was firm.

"And I don't want you to be, but what we have right now was casual... even though we only was with each other, it was still that. What I'm trying to say is – fuck!" He yanked at his hair again, frustration evident in every movement. "Naz, this wasn't supposed to happen. Shit, not like this."

"I know."

Naz sank back into her chair, suddenly exhausted. "What would your uncle say?"

"Uncle Bertrand?" Aurélien let out a dry laugh. "He's probably already planning the baby shower. You know how he is about family."

"And your parents?"

His jaw tightened. "They'd... adjust. Eventually." He turned to look at her. "What about yours?"

"My mom would probably fly straight to London just to kill me herself." She pressed her palms against her eyes. "Then she'd resurrect me just to lecture me about how I threw my life away for a footballer."

"You didn't throw your life away-"

"Didn't I though?" Her voice cracked. "Everything I worked for, my degree, my career... having a baby now would-"

"Who says you have to give any of that up?" There was an edge to his voice now. "You think I'd let you do this alone? You think I wouldn't make sure you and the baby had everything you needed?"

"That's not the point, Aurélien! I don't want to be some footballer's baby mama living off child support-"

"Stop saying that!" He was on his feet now, pacing the small room. "You're not just some... We're not..." He stopped, running his hands over his face. "Fuck, Naz, you will never be that to me. You know that."

She looked up at him, heart pounding. "Do I?"

"Eight months, Nazanin. Eight months of me flying you out every weekend, introducing you to my uncle, giving you keys to my place-"

"While keeping me your little secret-"

"To protect you! You saw what happened the minute those blogs got hold of those pictures. The shit they're saying about you..." He knelt in front of her chair, taking her hands in his. "I wanted to do this right. Take our time. But now..."

"Now what?"

"Now we have about seven months to figure out how to be parents." His thumbs traced circles on her palms. "If... if that's what you want."

Naz stared at their joined hands, at how his dwarfed hers. Hands that could control a ball with perfect precision, that could change the direction of a game, that were now offering to help guide her through this mess they'd created.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Me too." His honesty surprised her. Aurélien Tchouaméni, always so sure of himself, admitting fear. "But maybe that's okay? Maybe being scared means we're taking this seriously?"

"The press would have a field day."

"Fuck the press."

"Your career-"

"Will be fine. I'm not the first footballer to have a baby."

"Your girlfriend might object though," she couldn't help adding.

His head snapped up. "What girlfriend?"

"The model. The one they keep linking you to in the papers."

He actually laughed. "Naz, the only woman who's been in my bed for the past eight months is you. The only woman who has keys to my place is you. The only woman my dog actually listens to is you." His expression softened. "The only woman I want to figure this out with is you."

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "That's not fair. You can't say things like that when my hormones are all over the place."

His laugh was gentler this time. "Sorry." He reached up to wipe her tears away. "But I mean it. Whatever we decide – about the baby, about us – we do it together. No more blocking, no more games, no more letting other people get in our heads."

"Even Destiny?"

"Especially Destiny." He made a face. "Uncle Bertrand was right about her spirit."

That startled a laugh out of her. "Your uncle and his spiritual readings."

"He's never wrong though." Aurélien's expression turned serious again. "So what do you say? We take some time, really think about this? No pressure, no rushed decisions. Just... figure it out together?"

Naz looked at him – really looked at him. At the man who'd flown across countries the moment she needed him, who was on his knees in front of her offering support instead of easy solutions. At the potential father of her child.

"Together," she agreed softly.

His relief was visible. "Together." He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Now can we get out of this clinic? Hospitals make me nervous and I haven't eaten since I got your call."

"You're always hungry."

"Growing boy."

"You're literally a professional athlete."

He stood, pulling her up with him. "Exactly. Need to keep my strength up." His hand slid to her still-flat stomach. "Especially now."

The gesture should have felt presumptuous, but instead it felt... right. Like maybe they could actually do this.

A soft knock interrupted them, and the nurse from earlier poked her head in. Her eyes widened slightly at Aurélien's presence – of course she recognized him – but she maintained her professional demeanor.

"Everything alright in here?" she asked, though her gentle smile suggested she'd heard enough of their conversation to know things were better.

"Yeah," Naz managed, suddenly aware she was still holding Aurélien's hand. "We're just..."

"Taking things one step at a time," Aurélien finished, giving her hand a squeeze.

The nurse nodded. "Would you like to see the baby? You're far enough along for an ultrasound."

Naz felt Aurélien tense beside her. "We can... we can do that?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Of course. Let me get you two into a proper exam room first, and I'll give you some information about all your options." She gestured for them to follow her.

The new room was bigger, with an ultrasound machine and an exam table. The nurse handed them several pamphlets – Naz tried not to focus too hard on the ones about termination – and went through Naz's chart.

"Everything looks good so far," she said, patting the exam table. "Hop up here, love. Dad, you can sit right there."

Dad. The word made Aurélien's breath catch audibly.

"This might be a bit cold," the nurse warned as she applied the gel to Naz's stomach. Aurélien moved his chair closer, his eyes fixed on the screen.

For a moment, there was just static, and then...

"There we go," the nurse said softly. "See that little flutter? That's the heartbeat."

Naz heard Aurélien's sharp intake of breath. She turned to look at him and found his eyes were glassy, his usually composed expression cracking around the edges.

"Quite strong for eight weeks," the nurse continued, taking measurements. "Everything looks perfectly normal. Would you like a picture to take home?"

"Yes," Aurélien said immediately, then looked at Naz. "If... if that's okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Because that flutter on the screen... that was real. That was their baby. Not just cells, but a actual heartbeat and an embryo.

The nurse printed two copies of the ultrasound – "One for each of you" – and helped Naz clean up. "I'll give you a moment," she said, heading for the door. "When you're ready, there's a private exit through the back. I assume you'd prefer that?"

Aurélien nodded gratefully. Being spotted at a women's clinic was the last thing either of them needed right now.

Once they were alone, he looked down at the ultrasound picture in his hands. His fingers traced the tiny shape that would become their child.

"It's so small," he whispered.

"Yeah." Naz slid off the table, straightening her clothes.

"But that heartbeat..." He shook his head in wonder. "That was... fuck, Naz."

"I know." She leaned into him, and his arm came around her automatically.

"You still scared?"

"Terrified."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Me too. But maybe a little less than before?"

She nodded against his chest. The flutter of that heartbeat had changed something, made it all more real but also somehow less overwhelming. Maybe because now they were facing it together.

"Come on," he said finally, grabbing his duffel bag. "Let's get out of here. We can grab some food, talk more about everything."

The nurse was waiting by the back exit, holding the door open for them. "Take care of each other," she said softly as they passed.

Aurélien's hand found the small of Naz's back, guiding her through the door into the afternoon sun. His other hand was still holding the ultrasound picture, tucked safely in his pocket like something precious.

Maybe because it was.

Aurélien stifled another yawn as he sat against the training pitch wall, water bottle dangling from his fingers. The 5 AM flight from London had him running on fumes, but it wasn't just the lack of sleep weighing on him. Last night with Naz had been... intense. Hours of tears and whispered conversations, trying to map out a future neither of them had planned for.

He'd held her while she cried about her career, about her mother's inevitable reaction, about all the ways this could go wrong. Then she'd held him when the reality of everything finally hit and he'd broken down too.

Uncle Bertrand's lecture still rang in his ears: "Sexual responsibility, Djani. Being a man means facing consequences." Like he didn't know that. Like the ultrasound picture burning a hole in his wallet wasn't consequence enough.

Fling. The word kept bouncing around his head, making him grimace. That's what everyone would call Naz – his fling, his hookup, maybe his special friend if they were being polite. But how do you label someone who's seen you at your lowest after losing crucial matches? Someone who stays up till 3 AM discussing racism in football commentary? Someone who gets why you sometimes feel like you're not enough, even when you're playing for Real Madrid?

And now she was carrying his child.

"Yo." Cama's voice cut through his thoughts as his teammate dropped down beside him. Jude wasn't far behind, settling into the grass with that easy confidence of his.

"You look like shit, mate," Jude offered helpfully.

Aurélien took another swig of water. "Early flight."

"From London?" Cama's tone was careful, too careful. "We saw the blogs. About Naz."

The ultrasound picture felt heavier in his wallet. "Yeah."

"Everything good?" Jude asked, and Aurélien could hear the real question underneath: Are you good?

He stared out at the training pitch, at the pristine grass that had always been his escape. But football couldn't solve this one. Couldn't tell him how to be a father at 24, how to protect Naz from the media shitstorm that was coming, how to balance a baby with his career.

"She's pregnant," he said finally, the words still feeling foreign on his tongue.

The silence that followed was deafening. Then:

"Fuck," from Jude.

"Putain," from Cama.

Aurélien let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah."

"What are you gonna do?" Cama asked, all traces of his usual playfulness gone.

"Keep it." He didn't realize he'd made that decision until the words came out. "I want to keep it."

"You sure?" Jude's voice was gentle. "It's a lot, mate. The press alone..."

"Fuck the press." Aurélien pulled the ultrasound from his wallet, looked at that tiny flutter of life that had changed everything. "We saw the heartbeat yesterday. It's... it's real."

His teammates leaned in to look at the picture, and for a moment, they were just three young guys staring at something miraculous and terrifying.

"What if she goes through with it?" Jude asked carefully. "The abortion. Would you be mad?"

Aurélien stared at the grass, rolling the water bottle between his palms. Was he ready to be a father? Hell no. But could he just let Naz terminate their pregnancy? The thought made his stomach turn.

"I can't be mad at her. It's her choice too," he said finally. "I support her right to her choice, but... it's different when it's your baby."

"Is it your baby though?" Cama's face had that weird look he got when he was about to say something controversial. Both Jude and Aurélien glared at him. "We know those types of girls.... we fuck 'em and leave 'em but they have other plans."

"Naz isn't like that," Aurélien's voice went hard.

"Naz who also hangs out with Destiny who was with me and is now making her way through the team," Cama pushed back.

Aurélien let out a frustrated huff. "Naz never gave me that vibe. She even shared her location - she was too focused on me."

"Whoa, she shared her location with you?" Jude's eyebrows shot up.

"Once or twice. Thing is, I always knew where she was at.... so yeah, definitely my baby."

Jude scoffed, shaking his head. "I can't believe you went raw. Like condoms aren't fun and all, but they protect you."

"Thanks Jude, really needed that advice," Aurélien said sarcastically.

"But you want a baby?" Cama pressed. "Bro, you won't be able to have fun."

"I can still have fun, but it'll be different now. Have to be more responsible."

"No more clubs, no more trips... you'll be out here worrying about nappies and which bottle is best." Jude sounded almost sad about it.

Aurélien shrugged. "I'm a homebody anyways, so what's the point? Is this what I want right now while going through this bullshit? No. But I was there making that baby with her, so it is what it is."

"I still think you should do a DNA test first." Aurélien shot Cama another glare, and his teammate put up his hands in surrender. "Just for your peace of mind."

"It's too early to do that. We'd have to keep it and then wait to do one."

"Fuck..." Cama exhaled heavily. "So do you let her get rid of it then?"

"Don't call the baby 'it'," Aurélien snapped. "That's not an 'it'. That's my kid."

The silence that followed was heavy with understanding. This wasn't just about Aurélien anymore, or even about Naz. It was about that tiny flutter of life that had somehow changed everything.

"Whatever she decides..." Jude started carefully.

"Yeah." Aurélien finally tucked the picture away. "Whatever she decides. But fuck, I hope she doesn't..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't voice his fear that Naz might choose differently, that she might end this before it really began. Because how do you tell someone you want them to keep a baby neither of you planned for? How do you ask them to change their whole life because you can't stop thinking about that little heartbeat?

The whistle blew, signaling the end of their break. As they stood, Cama bumped his shoulder.

"You know we got you, right? Whatever you need."

"Yeah," Jude added. "Even if it's just covering for you when you're falling asleep during training."

Aurélien rolled his eyes, but the knot in his chest loosened slightly. Maybe they weren't ready for any of this – the baby, the responsibility, the scrutiny that was coming. But at least they weren't facing it alone.

Back to football. Back to pretending his whole world hadn't just shifted on its axis.

"Tchouaméni!" Ancelotti called out. "Focus!"

He'd missed a simple pass – the kind he could usually make in his sleep. But his head was somewhere else, somewhere in London with Naz, probably still crying on her bedroom floor.

"Sorry, Coach," he called back, shaking his head to clear it.

Training continued, but every movement felt mechanical. Pass, move, track back. His body knew what to do even if his mind was elsewhere. During shooting practice, he caught himself thinking about baby-proofing his villa. While defending set pieces, he wondered if the baby would have Naz's eyes.

"You're in your head," Cama said during another water break. "Coach is noticing."

"Let him notice." Aurélien took a long drink. "Got bigger things to worry about."

"Like what crib to buy?" Jude teased, but his smile faded when he saw Aurélien's expression. "Wait, are you actually-"

"I looked at some last night," Aurélien admitted quietly. "When Naz finally fell asleep. Found this really nice one, all white with gold trim-"

"Bro," Cama cut in. "You can't be planning nurseries when she hasn't even decided if-"

"I know!" The water bottle crumpled in Aurélien's grip. "You think I don't know that? But what else am I supposed to do? Just sit around waiting for her to decide if my kid gets to exist or not?"

A few teammates glanced their way at his outburst. Jude stepped closer, blocking their view.

"Maybe that's exactly what you need to do," he said gently. "Show her you'll support her either way. That it's really her choice."

"Even if her choice kills me?"

The raw honesty in his voice made both his friends pause. This wasn't their usual Aurélien – confident, composed, always in control. This was someone terrified of losing something he hadn't even known he wanted until yesterday.

"Send her the crib," Cama said suddenly.

"What?"

"Send her the link to the crib you liked. Show her you're thinking about it. About the future. But don't pressure her. Just... let her know you're ready if she is."

Aurélien stared at him. "That's... actually smart."

"I have my moments." Cama grinned. "Now can you please focus on training before Coach makes us all run sprints?"

But focusing was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that ultrasound image. Every time he caught his breath, he heard that tiny heartbeat. And every time his phone buzzed in the locker room, his heart stopped, wondering if this was the message from Naz that would either make or break him.

Because that's what it came down to, really. In less than 48 hours, he'd gone from being Real Madrid's midfielder to potentially being someone's father. And somehow, impossibly, the second title felt bigger than the first.

****************************************************************

After training, Aurélien found Uncle Bertrand waiting in his kitchen, sage burning because "the energy needs cleansing, nephew." The older man was stirring something that smelled like his grandmother's cooking, probably trying to comfort him with food like always.

"You look tired, Djani," Bertrand said, not turning around. "Sit. Eat."

"I'm not hungry-"

"Sit."

Aurélien sat. Some battles weren't worth fighting, especially with Uncle Bertrand.

"Have you spoken to Nazanin today?"

"Not since I left London." He pulled out his phone, staring at their last text exchange from this morning: Landed safely. Get some rest. And her reply: You too.

"You should call her."

"And say what?" Aurélien pushed his food around the plate. "'Hey, I know you're dealing with possibly the biggest decision of your life, but I found this really nice crib online?'"

Bertrand turned, fixing him with that look that always made him feel about five years old. "Is that what you want to say to her?"

"I don't know what I want to say. I don't know what I can say." He dropped his fork. "She could terminate and there's nothing I can do about it."

"This is true."

"I'd have to support her decision."

"Also true."

"But uncle…" His voice cracked slightly. "I saw the heartbeat."

Bertrand's expression softened. "I know, nephew. But Nazanin must make this choice herself. Without pressure."

"Even from me?"

"Especially from you." Bertrand sat across from him. "But showing her you're thinking of the future? This is not pressure. This is… hope."

Aurélien pulled out his phone again, found the crib he'd bookmarked during those sleepless hours in London. White with gold trim, converting into a toddler bed, probably cost more than some people's cars but…

"Send it," Bertrand said softly.

His thumb hovered over the link. Then:

Saw this last night. Made me think about possibilities.

He hit send before he could overthink it.

Three dots appeared almost immediately. Disappeared. Appeared again. His heart was somewhere in his throat when her reply finally came through:

It's beautiful.

Then: But expensive.

Money's not an issue, he typed back.

Aurel…

Just showing you I'm thinking about it. About everything. No pressure.

A longer pause this time. Then: I had an appointment with a counselor today.

His hands were shaking slightly as he replied: Yeah? How'd it go?

She helped me see some things clearly.

His stomach dropped. This was it. She was going to tell him she'd made her decision, that she was going to-

I'm scared of doing this alone.

Relief flooded through him. You're not alone. Never alone with this.

Promise?

On everything. On football. On my life.

She sent back a heart emoji, then: The crib really is beautiful.

"See?" Bertrand's voice made him jump – he'd almost forgotten his uncle was there. "Hope."

"She's still scared."

"Of course she is. You're both children yourselves."

"I'm twenty-four-"

"Children," Bertrand repeated firmly. "But children can grow. Children can learn. Children can become parents, if they choose."

If they choose. Those words again. Always coming back to choice.

His phone buzzed one more time: Send me more nursery stuff you like?

Something warm bloomed in his chest. "Uncle?"

"Mm?"

"I think… I think we might be having a baby."

Bertrand's smile was gentle. "Perhaps. But first, you eat. Growing fathers need their strength."

Aurélien looked down at his plate, found himself actually hungry for the first time all day. Because maybe Naz hadn't made her final decision yet, but she was thinking about cribs and nurseries and possibilities.

And right now, possibility felt a lot like hope.

"You know," Bertrand said carefully, watching his nephew finally eat, "we still need to discuss your mother."

The fork clattered against the plate. Aurélien's head dropped to the cool marble countertop with a dull thud. "Fuck!"

"Language."

"Sorry, uncle, but… fuck." He pressed his forehead harder against the marble. "She already called me twice about those blog posts."

"Mm." Bertrand's hum was knowing. "She wasn't pleased."

That was an understatement. His mother had been livid about seeing her son's 'private affairs' splashed across gossip sites. She had very specific ideas about how a footballer should conduct himself – everything behind closed doors, everything properly managed.

"'Sowing your wild oats is one thing, Aurélien,'" he mimicked her tone, "'but discretion is everything.'"

"And now?"

"Now I have to tell her those wild oats actually sprouted." He lifted his head just enough to bang it against the counter again. "She's going to kill me."

"She won't kill you." Bertrand paused. "Maim you, perhaps."

"Not helping, uncle."

"Have you thought about how you'll tell her?"

"I was kind of hoping you'd do it?" He tried his most winning smile, the one that usually got him out of trouble.

"No." Bertrand's response was immediate. "This is your responsibility."

"But-"

"Your mother needs to hear this from you. Not from me, not from the blogs, not from some PR statement." Bertrand's voice softened. "She needs to see you taking responsibility."

Aurélien finally sat up, rubbing his forehead. "She's going to say I'm too young. That I'm ruining my career. That I should've been more careful-"

"All true things."

"Uncle."

"But," Bertrand continued, "she is also your mother. And that?" He pointed to Aurélien's phone, still open to his conversation with Naz about nursery furniture. "That will be her grandchild. If Nazanin chooses to keep it."

"If." That word again, hanging heavy between them.

"Your mother might surprise you. But she needs to hear it from you, Djani. Man to mother."

His phone lit up with another text from Naz – a different crib design, this one with a matching changing table. His heart did that weird flutter thing again.

"I'll call her later," he decided. "After I talk to Naz more. Figure out where we stand."

Bertrand nodded approvingly. "Good. Now finish your food. You have nursery furniture to shop for."

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"I'm old, nephew. Let me have my future grand-uncle joy."

Aurélien shook his head, but he was smiling as he picked up his fork again. One hurdle at a time. First Naz, then his mother, then… everything else.

His phone buzzed again. A message from his mother this time: We need to talk about these blogs, Aurélien.

He stared at it for a long moment before typing back: Yes, we do. Tomorrow?

Her response was immediate: Finally. See you then. Love you.

"Fuck," he whispered again, but softly enough that Uncle Bertrand wouldn't hear.

Because how exactly do you tell your image-conscious mother that those blog posts were about to become the least of her worries?

.............tbd

[bullet-prooflove]

Autumn: Logan Howlett x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @misscrissfemmefatale @reidsworld @all-by-myself98 @bribow010

Companion piece to:

Rumours - Sometimes rumours aren’t just rumours.

Summer - No one knows what Logan gets up to during the summer break.

Love Bites - Logan's healing factor can sometimes be a curse.

Logan is in love.

He thinks about this as he sits alongside the window in this classroom, watching the autumn leaves collect in the trees outside. It’s been over a month since he last laid eyes on you and he can’t stop thinking about his final morning in Alberta. The way your hair fell across your features as you straddled his hips, your fingertips ghosting over his cheek as he looked into your eyes, drowning in a sea of tempestuous emotion.

He's never been so caught up in someone before, so beholden to them, so lost in them.

“I…” He had begun but you’d pressed your mouth to his and those words were long forgotten as you’d tumbled him back into the sheets, your hand pinning his wrists too the mattress.

He’d forgotten how good it can be to give up your control, to be the one taken care of for a change. You always seem to sense that in him, when he needs to lose it, when he needs to take it.

This thing between the two of you has been going on for four summers now and you’ve lightened his life in ways he could never imagine. His history it’s always been heavy but now he’s looking towards a future, one he never thought he’d have.

He picks up his phone again, his thumb hovering over the buttons. He doesn’t do this, you don’t do this. From autumn to spring you don’t contact one other, you live your lives the way you always do, reconvening only for those three perfect months. If he reaches out that changes things, shows he wants more and he’s scared of what comes with that. The years watching you age while he doesn’t, the inevitable explanation of why. His heart will break in the end, he knows it and still…

Still he wants to, he wants to spend whatever time you have left with you.

Hi, he types out before tucking his phone back into his desk draw. I’ve been thinking about you.

It isn’t until after his Civil Wars class he’s about to check it and his heart beats a little faster in his chest as he studies the message.

I’ve been thinking about you too 😉

Love Logan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[junelovesaz]

Shadows and Whispers. Part 2

Note: Hello loves! I’m back… I think. Honestly, I promised I’d be more active, but I didn’t make it. I finished my first year of university and got a summer job. Still, I take full responsibility—you can crucify me, I’ll accept it 😌😌 I had the second part of Shadows and Whispers in my drafts, but I hadn’t published it yet because I wanted to edit it a bit. I’m sorry if this is a mess—I’m pretty rusty, and English isn’t my first language and it´s late. If there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! I’ve been inactive for so long that I’m not even sure if I should take the liberty of using the tag list. But still, if you’re reading this, thank you so much for your time—I love you 💙💙💙

I’ll leave the song I was listening to while writing this. Take care.

P.S. Someone asked me a while ago if there would be more of Shadows and Whispers, so this second part is for you. I’m sorry it took so long, but I hope you like it.

Warnings: None, only if you squint, something suggestive.

Summary: At the ball, Azriel and the reader pretend to be a couple to gather information about the Autumn Court. However, the situation becomes overwhelming for the reader, leaving her confused, and Azriel’s touches only make it harder for her to clear her mind.

Many times, I stayed awake at night, questioning what I was doing with my life until the early hours of the morning. However, I had never tormented myself as much as I did in this situation.

I had the feeling that I would remain awake for many more dawns, and I was sure that my poor heart would not survive.

In front of me stood the man I was in love with, looking ridiculously handsome. His two large wings surrounded me, while his arms remained wrapped around my waist, as if that were the place where they should have always stayed, where they should remain until I turned to dust and stars.

I was intoxicated by his touch. Az had been quite careful, though deep down, I knew he was worried about making me feel uncomfortable with his chest pressed against mine, his occasional touches on my lower back, and the way his hands left soft caresses on my arms, waist, and even my neck.

He was trying hard to make this ridiculous act believable. When had anyone ever seen the Shadowsinger being so openly affectionate in a room full of nobles?

Not in my wildest dreams—or in those of the vipers surrounding us.

"Are you okay?" Azriel’s deep voice murmured softly, catching my attention.

I turned to look at him and was met with his kind hazel eyes, mixed with a hint of caution.

I nodded, trying to control my pulse. "All good, Az."

I saw doubt cross his face, but I didn’t want him to dig any deeper, so I quickly changed the subject.

"Are you sure this is working?" I asked with a genuinely teasing smile.

Az raised an eyebrow.

"I don’t understand why you’re so surprised. I’m good at my job."

The music changed, and this time, the melody became faster, more intense. Exactly how I felt—restless, euphoric.

Az’s hands were gentle, soft but firm, moving me to the rhythm of the music with ease. He was a skilled dancer, and he was the one doing all the hard work. Unfortunately, I had not been born with the grace and delicacy of a great dancer. Cassian and I used to whisper about which of us would look more ridiculous when we had to dance with someone else.

"Pretending to be madly in love?" A pang hit my chest, but I ignored it and simply raised an eyebrow. "Or gathering information?"

Even so, my heart was pounding wildly, and I could feel my pulse in my head, but I would blame the dance. That would be my great excuse. I knew Az could hear it too, but he was probably too polite to mention it.

"I’d say both," he replied smugly.

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course you would."

He smiled, and his expression was enough to soften me. We stood in silence for a moment until his shadows brushed against my shoulders, and I smiled fondly at them.

"Maybe you should teach him some humility," I told them, referring to their master.

They caressed me again, and their cold touch didn’t seem strange to me at all. On the contrary, it was even… comforting.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize one of my dress straps had slipped from my shoulder until I felt one of Az’s hands gently brushing my skin to put it back in place.

The gesture was so… tender, and his touch was so full of devotion that my head started spinning, and my thoughts became a blur.

It was just a mission, I reminded myself.

Then why did this—whatever it was—not feel that way?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was about to make a comment, but the words caught in my throat because, at that moment, Az and I overheard an interesting conversation between two nobles, and our attention shifted to them.

"…Beron is still High Lord."

We exchanged a brief glance before subtly moving closer to listen. Their voices were little more than whispers, but with a Shadowsinger as my partner… anything was possible.

"That doesn’t mean one of his sons won’t become High Lord at some point."

I frowned.

Eris wanted the throne, of course. His brothers also craved power, but what would this damned court do? Bet on which one of them would stay alive to take the role?

“Eris could become High Lord,” one of them remarked.

“Or… not,” the other took a moment to reply.

Az’s back stiffened, and I assumed my reaction was a reflection of his. We exchanged another glance, and I leaned my body against his chest, syncing with the melody’s shift to a softer tune.

“What do you mean?” one of the voices sounded again.

The other fell silent for a moment, and I held my breath.

“You know what I mean.”

So Eris’s brothers were beginning to form alliances? Were they planning to kill each other?

Not a single part of me was surprised. At least not enough to show a look of disgust.

Az wrapped his arms around me again and lifted my hands to his neck, tangling them there and forcing me onto my tiptoes. It was the signal that he was going to whisper something to me, so I tilted my head to make it seem, from an outsider’s perspective, as though he was kissing my neck.

“They’re planning to kill him,” he murmured so softly that I barely heard him.

“I got that too,” I replied, shifting my position again, moving my head in a way that made it look like I was seeking refuge in his neck.

Probably not my best move, as the scent of cedar filled my nostrils, invading my senses and thoughts.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Still, we spent the next hour like this—dancing between whispers, eavesdropping on conversations, trying to piece together the alliances and the cursed situation surrounding the Autumn heir.

Some nobles had already left, while Az and I remained in a corner, pretending to sip wine. In reality, I had placed a shield around us to prevent anyone from overhearing our conversation.

“We have to tell Rhys. Now,” I emphasized when he didn’t move.

“Not yet,” Az denied. “We convinced some of them,” he gestured toward the last few people lingering at the ball, “but not all. Beron will likely send someone to follow us once we leave this cursed place.”

I sighed.

“So what do we do?” I asked, my patience wearing thin. This night had been long—filled with half-touches, lies and not-lies that had left my mind more confused than ever.

“We continue the act,” he answered simply. And when he didn’t say anything for a few seconds, I lowered the shield, fairly certain he already had a plan in mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so, half an hour later, Az and I found ourselves outside the Autumn Court’s castle, surrounded by a breathtaking forest of orange, green, and brown hues.

On another occasion, I might have found it a marvelous sight. Right now, I just wanted to leave, curl up under layers of blankets, and forget this night had ever happened.

Az’s arm rested over my shoulders as we walked, shielding me from the cold but also ensuring that those following us—because he had been right about that—could see us.

They were close, but not close enough to hear what we were saying.

"You don’t need to do that, Az," I said, referring to his wing wrapping around me.

Truthfully, I did want him to stay close, but I had already messed up before—back in Velaris when I had accidentally ended up touching his wing.

"It’s cold," he replied calmly, taking my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Az’s body was like a furnace, providing enough warmth to keep me from freezing. But if I wanted to make it through this night, I needed to put some distance between us.

"Az," I swallowed. "Listen, I need to..." I turned slightly toward him before continuing. His deep gaze met mine, and I swallowed hard.

By the Cauldron, what was I supposed to say? Please stop touching me because you’re confusing my heart? Of course not.

Still, I opened my mouth to speak just as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine in a slow, sensual kiss. I didn’t hold back the surprised sound that escaped me—but I also didn’t pull away. Az backed us up, touching me with such intensity that it stole my breath. We didn’t stop kissing as he placed both hands behind my head, making sure I wouldn’t hit the bark of the tree we had landed against. That was how it worked with him—my resolve disappeared as if it had never existed. That was why, in the first place, I hadn’t wanted to come here with Az.

I shivered as his arms lifted me, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist, aligning me exactly where I needed him.

What the hell was happening?

"Az..." I whispered between kisses, trying to clear my thoughts.

The shadowsinger didn’t respond. He lifted his head for just a second, and what I saw made my knees weak. Desire and intensity. I recognized it because I had seen that look countless times—on myself, whenever I was with him.

It was fleeting, because the next moment, he trailed kisses down my jaw, tilting my head back to expose my neck to him.

Surprisingly, he found a spot that made my toes curl, and one of the hands gripping his shoulders tugged gently at his hair, while the other, unconsciously, slid to the edge of his right wing—the one that had never stopped wrapping around me.

I knew Illyrians were sensitive to that kind of touch, but I also knew it was an intimacy I wasn’t sure Az wanted from me.

And yet, drunk on him, I didn’t even think about it—about the consequences of my actions—as I traced my fingertips along the membrane.

The guttural sound that escaped him set my insides on fire, and I knew—I wouldn’t survive the night when he trembled, pressing his face against my neck as his weight sank into me.

Around us, the forest had fallen into absolute silence. Not even the wind rustled through the trees, and that snapped me back to reality.

We were doing this because someone had likely come too close. But now? Now, there was no one else but us.

Regaining a bit of clarity, I noticed how his shadows shifted restlessly—some curling around my calves, others weaving over his shoulders. His silence unsettled me, so I slowly pulled both hands away from his body, feeling somewhat out of my own.

"Az…" I called after a moment, my voice unsteady, unsure where to even begin apologizing.

"Just a moment… I just need a moment, sweetheart," he responded heavily against my neck.

My brain might as well have short-circuited. Without thinking, I placed my hand back in his hair, gently stroking whatever I could reach.

Exactly one minute later, Az let me go, setting me down with his hands on my waist.

I cleared my throat and avoided his gaze. "Are they gone?" I asked stupidly, not sure what else to say.

Az took my chin between his fingers and guided my attention back to him.

"They’re gone," he confirmed.

I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek. This meant nothing.

A mission, I reminded myself.

"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly.

Of course not. I was a mess of nerves, words clogging my throat. I needed to let go—let go of what I felt for him, or this love would continue pouring out of me.

"I think we need to talk."

Az nodded, wrapping me in his warmth once more.

"At home, sweetheart."

He squeezed my hand gently, and I felt his shadows swirl around us, whisking us directly to Velaris—home.

It took me a second to recognize the path to the River House, and I braced myself for the conversation we were about to have.

Az didn’t let go of me, and we walked in silence until we reached the door.

I took a deep breath and turned to face him.

I had known from the very beginning that this entire plan was going to fall apart.

[ennabear]

ೃ༄ GOT WHAT I WANTED, BUT IT’S NEVER ENOUGH FOR ME ₊⊹

cw: more melvika!!!!! part 3 of my lil series but could probably be read on it’s own as always, cute fluff, public/semi public flirting and nudity/exhibitionism(????)(they don’t get caught), dom!mel and sub!brat!sevika, shibari, tribbing, oral, pussy slapping, mentions of aftercare of course, omg help this is all over the place idk how to tag it, 18+

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!!! i hope you enjoy these sweeties hehehe <333 sorry if this seems rushed it’s because it was!!!!!!!

word count: 5.3k

5 am.

their alarm blared on mel’s bedside table, the small black box yelling at them to wake up before they’re late to what’s going to be the longest meeting of their lives. sevika hears it first, awakening with a gasp as mel stirs under her from all of the commotion. she groans and slaps it off, and then nuzzles further into her girlfriend’s neck to get another 5 minutes of sleep in.

“sevika…” mel grumbles, not completely awake yet.

“five more minutes. please.” she sighs, leaving open-mouthed kisses on mel’s neck in an attempt to convince her.

“we need to get up, love. if we’re late one more time, they’ll throw us out of there.” she warns.

“good. as long as i’m with you i won’t mind being jobless.”

mel snorts at this, but she’s still determined to get up at a normal time. she’s well aware that five more minutes turns into thirty, which turns into them stumbling in late to all of their meetings. and today they need to be on time because it’s extra important. they’re debating a new bill to be passed about funding more schools in the area, and with this, they could extend those extra funds to the children in zaun.

she sits up slowly, gently rolling sevika off of her and then pulling her up too once she stands. it’s still dark out, but beautifully illuminated by their array of lights and colors. they both sleep so much more peacefully this way, the lights offering a comfort that reminds them of home.

sevika groans and rolls her eyes as mel rips the covers off of her and yanks her out of bed. her hair is messy and tangled, half of it knotted together, and the other half sticking out in different directions, but mel adores her this way. the only thing cuter than a sleeping sevika is a sleepy, grumpy sevika that won’t stop clinging to her.

like now, when sevika stumbles forward and captures her in a hug— her newly found favorite thing to do with her new arm. her human arm is wrapped around her waist, the other tight around her shoulders, and she squeezes her so hard she can barely breathe. mel squeezes her back in a tight hug, then swats her away to go get ready.

sevika never gets ready on her own, though. she follows mel around and waits for her to get dressed and freshened up, and then makes mel assist in dressing her.

she claims that it’s because she can’t button her pants or shirt with her mech hand, but mel knows that that isn’t the truth. sevika knows it too, but there’s nothing she loves more than standing before her girlfriend, peering down at her with her tits, abs, and happy trail exposed, watching her fasten every single tiny button. she has a habit of starting from the bottom and buttoning them up to just under her neck, but then she’ll change her mind and rip a few open, staring wide-eyed at her girlfriend’s cleavage.

and that’s exactly what they do once mel finishes dressing herself, a long black dress draped beautifully over her body with sevika’s old cape thrown over it. sevika goes absolutely wild when mel wears it. she used to hate that ratty old thing. it did no good in protecting her, the holes in the stained fabric would let the cold air nip at her waist, and there was hardly any point in using it to conceal her mech arm when she’d rip off her cape dramatically a few minutes later.

but it just looks so good on mel, the dark, faded red color against her brown and gold skin is perfect in sevika’s mind. it’s been washed a few times since sevika has moved up here— because apparently everyone has washers and dryers around here, and they’re surprisingly usual to see in a home— so it’s less dirty, but still carries the memories of sevika’s adventures in it.

the sun is slightly higher in the sky when they check the clock again, and they have about half an hour before they need to be out the door, so mel sits them both down and pours two cups of coffee. one for her, black with a little bit of sugar, and one for sevika, extra cream and extra sugar, the way she knows that sevika and her sweet tooth secretly prefer it.

a small clink rings out as they toast their mugs and sip their coffee together, gossiping and exchanging secrets about their colleagues. they finish slightly early— only four minutes until they have to leave, early— so sevika’s brilliant mind decides to spend the time pinning her girlfriend to the couch and kissing her all over until neither of them can breathe.

mel loves seeing her this way. there’s something so intimate about waking up and getting ready with her, sharing coffee and secrets like old friends, seeing her messy hair and secret sweet tooth before they have to leave. she’s so adorable in mel’s eyes. she chose the perfect muse.

but there’s something else that mel loves, it comes after they get ready together in the mornings, but when they arrive at the council and take their seats. sevika will start to get heated and agitated as she listens to more stupid opinions and false information, and that same, cute scowl will start to show over her features. she’ll glare at anyone and everyone— even mel, until she can’t keep it up anymore and cracks a smile for a split second— and her chest will rise and fall as her breathing gets heavier.

she looks angry. she is angry, and it’s so hot. mel will bite her lip and stare at sevika intently, trying her hardest to engrave that image of her in her head long enough to paint her another portrait. she also adores her sass, her exasperated eye rolls and dramatic shrugs that are accompanied with innocent eyebrow raises. sevika is so animated, mel wonders how she even stayed awake during these agonizingly long meetings.

but today, sevika isn’t doing any of that.

as soon as they get there, they part and take their seats all the way across the room from each other. sevika hates it, she’s pissed that she can’t constantly be clinging onto her girlfriend, but mel loves it. she gets to stare at her the whole time, and they can send each other glances that tell everything on their minds without saying any words.

that’s exactly what sevika does the whole time. eye contact. and lots of it.

after about one minute of the guest speaker telling them all about his background in piltover and education, sevika decides it’s more worth her time to stare at mel. mel tries her best to ignore sevika, but she can feel her eyes on her the whole time as she tries to listen.

she turns to sevika and raises both eyebrows at her, as if to ask, “what do you want?”, but sevika just stares at her with her big, silver, sparkly eyes and smiles innocently. mel rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the man, but then she sees sevika moving and her gaze is quickly turned back to her. she spies her girlfriend looking directly into her eyes, reaching up slowly to unbutton another clasp on her shirt.

this is risky, she’s already close to flashing everyone, but she does it anyways for mel’s attention. mel shoots her a sharp warning look, but sevika shrugs like she has no clue what’s going on, her eyes widening and sparkling impossibly more than usual.

when mel looks away again, sevika sighs dramatically. none of the council members care to glance at her, thank janna, because she’s leaning against the table with her elbows squishing her tits together as tightly as they can. mel is very aware that sevika is trying to get her attention, but she ignores her for another twenty minutes.

and she doesn’t look back at sevika until she sees even more shuffling from the corner of her eyes, and when she steals another glance at sevika, she’s absolutely mortified.

and extremely turned on.

because sevika has torn apart another button, and her tits are being pushed together by her huge arms. mel hawks at her, almost embarrassed because she’s millimeters from flashing everyone in that room— coworkers who she’ll have to see every day for the rest of her life— but she also can’t stop the heat from pooling in her stomach and flushing over her cheeks. sevika hasn’t broken eye contact once, and mel doubts that she’s looked away the whole time.

she grins when mel notices her, and smiles impossibly bigger when she sees her start to squirm in her seat and open her eyes as wide as possible. mel can see everything in full view, the hickeys still on her chest from a few nights ago, and a small sliver of her deep brown areolas hanging at the bottom of her tits. she shoots sevika a frustrated look, hoping that it comes across as “what the hell is wrong with you!?” but sevika just smiles and shrugs.

mel rolls her eyes, motions for sevika to button her shirt back up, but most of all, attempts not to make a scene. she doesn’t want anyone looking at her girlfriend’s tits, those are for her eyes only. but sevika misinterprets mel’s motioning to close her shirt— on purpose, of course, being the brat she is— so she raises one eyebrow and unbuttons another slowly, as if that was what mel requested.

now, her full, heavy tits are practically hanging out of her shirt. about half of each nipple is concealed by the fabric, but there’s no mistaking the fact that her shirt is opened to her mid-stomach, and anyone who looked her way would notice that in an instant. maybe she’s really lucky that what the guest speaker has to say is important, or that nobody bothers to stare at her like she has two heads anymore, because nobody notices it. no one except mel.

sevika decides to go even further. this meeting is boring and they still have hours to go, why not spice it up a little? she leans back in her seat and stretches dramatically, hands coming up to lock together behind her head, her thick nipples on proud display to the whole room. mel’s eyes almost fall out of her head.

yes, they have discussed a little bit of exhibition before while talking about kinks and their bedroom lives, but never this. this is all sevika’s own doing. as she stares at sevika in disbelief, her eyes start to trail from her big, sparkly, puppy eyes, down to her thick, asymmetrical lips, then to her neck, and finally to the place that sevika obviously wants her gaze to be.

sevika laughs as mel’s gaze gets locked onto her bare boobs— now more than just a sliver of cleavage— so she reaches up slowly and gropes one of them in her big hands. her soft tits squish in her hands like putty, and she flashes mel a wolfish grin as the poor woman looks half turned on, half murderous. sevika’s ego can’t get enough of it.

but they quiet down before she has a chance to shove her hands down her pants, which was her next plan, so she quickly buttons her shirt up— fully capable, as mel suspected— and leans back in her chair, grinning like nothing ever happened.

mel breathes a sigh of relief now that sevika’s is done with her little show, extremely grateful that she didn’t get caught. now she’s the one who can’t focus, sevika pays full attention to the other council members as they debate what should happen next, occasionally asking questions to the man and to each other. but mel can’t stop thinking about sevika’s tits, and the way she just completely acted up in public.

they take turns debating and listening to the others, mel partially wishes she were able to join into the conversation, but she knows that it won’t matter until they get to actually sign shit. for now, she’s just gonna sit back and listen to everyone else, mentally preparing herself to give a summary of everything that happened to sevika, she already knows she wasn’t listening to a single thing. but she’ll save that for after she fucks her so hard she can’t walk straight for a few days.

once they’re excused for the day after an excruciating few hours, sevika reaches out for mel’s hand as gentlemanly as possible, completely ignoring everything that she did to tease mel. mel hesitates, but takes sevika’s hand anyways. she hates the way sevika is acting like she’s the one in power. sevika gives mel’s hand a firm kiss as they stroll back to their suite, flesh on metal but still soft and warm altogether.

——

sevika dramatically flops herself down in bed, groaning something about her back hurting. and that’s when mel’s plan pops into place. she reaches forward and opens the buttons on sevika’s shirt, tugging it off of her limp body.

“you gonna force me to massage your sore back again?” mel teases.

sevika grunts. “i’m not forcing you to do anything, you’re the one who always climbs on top of me as soon as i sit down.”

mel giggles and kisses the top of sevika’s head, then decides to get to work. sevika almost melts when mel places herself on top of her, gentle hands slowly kneading her aching back and shoulders. a deep groan is muffled into the pillow. it takes a while for her to fully relax, but after half an hour of mel’s soft hands working away at her back, she’s completely limp and half asleep.

“are you still awake, love?” mel whispers just above her ear.

“mmh, yeah…” sevika answers, although it’s only halfway true.

mel giggles at her adorably sleepy girlfriend and keeps going, rubbing her thumbs over her shoulders, the heels of her hands over her spine, fingertips tracing over the scarred skin. when she works her thumbs into the small dips in her lower back, she groans in pleasure, arching slightly to try to get more of that feeling from mel.

mel grins. “you like that?”

sevika tries to respond, but her face is completely smooshed into the bed. “yea… feels good.”

mel climbs off of her but keeps her hands busy massaging the dimples in sevika’s back. sevika doesn’t question her shuffling until she feels mel leaving hot, wet kisses all over her neck and back. she whimpers into her pillow at the feeling, nipples hardening underneath her. mel chuckles at the way she’s squirming in her hold.

“that too?” she asks.

sevika doesn’t know what to say. she arches more into mel’s touch, lower-half lifting off of the bed as she gently grinds her tits into the mattress in search of some kind of friction. her breath shakes as she’s suddenly aware of how empty her cunt feels, and mel can see the wheels turning in sevika’s head as she notices what mel is about to do to her.

sevika gulps. “uh… yeah…” her cheeks heat up and her mind races, imagining her girlfriend putting her in whatever position she wants until neither of them can form words. she gulps, eyes widening as she feels mel’s hand snake up her sides.

mel reaches forward and flips sevika over, straddling her hips as her back hits the bed. sevika’s breath hitches when her girlfriend’s fingers come up to scratch at her freshly buzzed undercut, and she whimpers yet again when their lips meet in a messy, uncoordinated kiss. her eyes flutter closed as mel takes the lead, shoving her tongue into sevika’s mouth, finding her girlfriend’s and sliding them together.

sevika grabs onto mel’s hips, pushing them back and forth in an attempt to have her grind on her lap. mel just laughs into her mouth and keeps her hips solid in place, grabbing sevika’s hands— one a warm brown, painted with light scars, the other a shiny gold metal— and shoving them under her back. she fusses when mel pushes her hands away, but she’s scared of acting up now. she’s finally remembered that her actions have consequences, and mel isn’t afraid of a good punishment.

but sevika can’t help it. every time mel sits on top of her and sucks on her tongue like this, her hands get a mind of their own and wander all over her body. each time they trail up her legs to grope her thighs, mel swats them away and threatens her with a nip to her bottom lip. she wants nothing more than to touch her girlfriend right now, but she knows that based on the way she acted earlier, she’ll probably end up with her hands tied above her head.

and that’s exactly what happens. after the umpteenth time that sevika pinched mel’s thighs or hips, mel got fed up and climbed off of her, leaving to grab some of the rope they bought specifically for tying each other up. sevika recognizes that light gold color as she struts back in with an annoyed look on her face, and she can’t even force any words out as mel ties her hands together in front of her, and then ties them to the headboard above her.

“is this okay?” mel asks, shoving a few fingers in between sevika’s wrists and the rope to make sure that it’s not too tight. sevika gawks up at her with her jaw slack.

“yeah… that’s good.” she whispers, her eyes growing lovestruck and starry.

mel leaves her hands tied above her as she unbuttons her slacks and pulls them off. sevika struggles against the rope a bit, her instincts taking over and telling her to pin mel to the bed and ride her until they’re both too tired to move anymore, but she gets held back. she grunts as she yanks her wrists down, but nothing happens. all it does is make mel laugh at her, which makes her feel so weak yet incredibly turned on.

once mel gets sevika’s pants off, she takes a second to marvel at the wet spot on her boxers. her thighs are flexing as she squirms helplessly in front of her, halfway attempting to shield herself from her girlfriends perverted gaze, halfway wishing mel just fuck her already. she’s been soaked ever since the night before when they had to cancel their weekly routine of having hot and heavy sex while wine drunk because they needed to get to bed early. sevika was waiting all day, dreaming of it all week, and just like that, their responsibilities ruined everything.

mel was looking forward to it too, but she already foresaw sevika acting up in one way or another, and she knew she’d be breaking out the rope soon anyways. it didn’t really make a difference, because the way she’s about to fuck her right now will make up for it and then some.

she shuffles around on top of her girlfriend, yanking her dress off along with her own underwear. sevika whines when mel’s golden happy trail and bush are exposed to her, and curses when she realizes that she doesn’t get to touch her. at all.

sevika tries to wrap her legs around mel, but mel is too quick, already on her feet unraveling more rope to tie sevika up with. she has no choice but to lay limp as mel bends her into the positions she wants. she brings sevika’s each of her ankles to her thighs, tying knots all around them just above her ass. as soon as mel has a clear view of sevika’s glistening cunt, she moves up to web the rope around the back of sevika’s neck, and then on each side of her heavy tits that she was proudly showing off earlier.

a faint blush creeps up on sevika’s cheeks as she watches mel tie her tits up, the soft flesh hanging over the rope and squishing together. mel kisses each of her cheeks as she sputters and submits under her, glad that her plan of getting sevika to give up domming was successful. sevika whimpers when mel’s soft lips press against her face, and she gulps again loudly when mel whispers a, “yeah, just like that, my star.” into her ear.

mel takes a second to marvel at sevika tied up this way. legs forced open, hands tied together and out of the way, tits on perfect display, the way sevika so obviously wanted them to be earlier. every time she gazes into those wide, silver eyes, it’s like she’s falling in love over and over again. even more true when sevika is staring up at her like she’s the sun in her universe, setting her soul ablaze.

sevika’s legs are spread as wide as they can possibly be, and mel hooks her legs over sevika’s and then pauses. faintly, through the thick, wispy hairs shrouding her dripping slit, she can see sevika’s clit pulse and quiver in anticipation. she smirks to herself, then darts forward to kiss all the way up sevika’s chest.

her nipples pucker as mel traces her pointed tongue around them, then gently yet firmly sucks them into her mouth. a loud whimper forces its way from sevika’s throat, and she groans at the way mel teases her, purposefully not touching her where she needs it the most. she tries to get herself off, but it’s no use. her legs are forced open by mel, hips pinned to the bed, cunt dripping wet and completely neglected.

“mel.” she groans, and it almost sounds like a threat. mel just laughs, sevika is in no place to be threatening mel when she’s the one laying helplessly limp under her.

“yes?” she asks, a painfully innocent grin growing on her features.

“fuck, how much longer are you gonna tease me?” she pants, out of breath and aching to be touched already, hoping that mel decides to go easy on her.

“well, let’s see…” mel starts, a far away look in her eyes. “you did put on quite the show in front of all of those people…”

“yeah but we didn’t get caught.” sevika adds.

“do you really wanna talk back to me?” mel warns with a smirk. her fingers come up to trace sevika’s jaw and hold it in her hands, squeezing gently to remind her who’s in power.

sevika shuts her mouth, not wanting to earn herself an even larger punishment.

“…and you have been acting up quite a bit today, wouldn’t you agree?”

the larger woman underneath her nods, too intimidated to say otherwise.

“so, what do you think? should i go easy on you?” she asks sevika.

“i— well—” sevika starts, trying to calculate her words carefully. earning the smallest punishment without telling any lies is her goal.

“do you want me to sit myself down and ride you into the mattress?” she whispers into her girlfriend’s ear, completely derailing her thought train.

sevika’s eyes widen, and she nods enthusiastically. “please, i was just bored and i missed you. that’s all.”

mel smiles and once again runs the point of her nails against sevika’s undercut, making her completely melt underneath her. slowly but surely, mel lines up her own cunt with sevika’s, and then angles her hips forward and backward to kiss their clits together.

the headboard groans as sevika tugs on her rope, wanting nothing more but to quicken mel’s pace. she’s so close already, but the agonizingly slow grind of mel’s hips is making it even worse. if sevika had her way, the whole bed would be slamming into the wall with her thrusts.

“please…” sevika begs, yanking on her restraints as if it’ll do anything.

“please what? isn’t this what you wanted?” mel asks, a faux confusion clouding her features.

“f-faster, harder, more.” sevika demands, as if she has a say in any of this.

mel chuckles at sevika, the only thing she loves more than being teased by sevika is teasing her back. “always demanding more, aren’t you? it’s just never enough for you, is it? can never be satisfied.”

“no, i—” sevika grunts at the way her words are twisted so easily by her girlfriend. “that’s not what i meant.” she huffs, tears filling her eyes with the slow, borderline painful way mel is touching her.

bright, bubbly giggles from mel break the brief silence in the room as she laughs at sevika’s huffy attitude. she decides to go a bit easier on her, so she sits down fully, her slick completely mixing with sevika’s and spreading all over both of them. mel throws her head back, moaning at the feeling of sevika just getting wetter and wetter. she keeps tugging against her binds, but it’s no use.

and she looks so beautiful all tied up. her legs are folded together, the rope squishing at the plush of her thighs and stomach. arms together and laced above her head, casting a gentle shadow on her features. her cunt keeps pulsing and clenching against mel as if she’s trying to suck her in, and she starts melting at the sweet way sevika is begging for more.

but this raises a question: does she deserve more, or has she acted up too much to deserve it? should mel stop everything to make sure her girlfriend gets what she wants, or should sevika just sit there and take it? mel ponders this, but her decision is made when she glances down to get a glimpse of sevika’s beautiful, sparkly eyes.

she’s not going easy. not tonight.

her hand travels up to gently grab sevika’s neck as her hips speed up. sevika’s clit catches on mel’s as mel rides her, her own chest rising and falling beneath the restraints. for a moment, sevika thinks mel is being nice to her, but she realizes that she’ll be in for a long night when mel doesn’t stop after she cums the first time. her orgasm washes over her like waves, heavy and deep, leaving her out of breath. but the stimulation keeps going as mel scoots off of her and starts to place kitten licks to her cunt.

sevika gasps at the feeling, and then whines when mel laughs at her. she tries to squirm away but she’s tied in place, and mel’s grip is too strong anyways. her clit is hard and stiff as mel sucks it into her mouth, thoroughly enjoying every whine and twitch it brings from her.

the worst part for sevika? mel is like a god when it comes to eating her out. she gets it so messy, kissing and sucking on her lips, occasionally stopping to spit on the top of her clit and watch it drip down into her hole. her perfectly arched lips working wonders while all sevika can do is sit there completely limp as her eyes roll back into her head.

“mel…” sevika pants, tears forming in her eyes as she feels another orgasm creeping up on her.

mel doesn’t respond, instead just humming and looking up at sevika as she tongues her clit.

“mmh, it’s too much. i didn’t mean to misbehave.” she cries, legs trembling as a mixture of wet arousal and squirt trailing down mel’s chin.

small splashes of her squirt spray out from her cunt as mel continues sucking on her clit, then she inserts two fingers slowly and steadily. sevika gasps and instantly clenches around mel’s fingers, tugging her arms down even harder. for a second, mel thinks the headboard might snap with the way she’s pulling so hard, but a quick slap to her swollen cunt grounds her and causes her to quit pulling.

sevika squirms underneath mel, cheeks glowing the faintest red as mel smiles down at her. the pain lasted only momentarily, and it was quickly overcome by a hot shock of pure pleasure. something dark clouds mel’s golden eyes as she stares down at sevika and her begging eyes, completely unable to close her legs.

“did you like that?” mel asks, although the answer is obvious.

sevika can’t even form words, she just stares up at mel and makes a sad attempt at nodding.

mel leans forward, glaring at sevika and taking her jaw in her hand. “use your words.” she demands.

her bright, silver eyes glance away from mel’s, but mel forces her to meet her gaze. “i— uh… yes.” she admits. deep, smooth voice shaking a little at the thought of mel continuing.

“good.” mel giggles, pressing a kiss to sevika’s nose.

then she sits up, placing herself between sevika’s legs, prepared to make her scream.

she starts with one gentle smack to her sore clit, which causes sevika to clench around nothing and squirm her hips. mel takes it easy at first, rubbing over the spot she hit softly until sevika is begging and dripping for more. then she goes at bit harder, bringing her hand down to sevika’s pussy with more force than the last until she’s whimpering louder than she ever has.

clear strings of arousal cling onto mel’s fingertips as she raises her hand again, so she smacks her even harder to make sevika even more wet. sevika winces as mel continues abusing her poor cunt, but can’t stop moaning at the feeling of yet another orgasm building up. she’s about to snap soon. mel knows this, of course, slapping and rubbing over her clit more aggressively, watching her cunt flutter.

sweat drips down sevika’s neck and pools on the pillow as she gets closer and closer, and she can feel her mind starting to grow fuzzy and blank. mel keeps going as sevika winces and squirms, and there’s a thick trail of cum and slick dripping onto the bed below her.

all it takes is one more slap before sevika is cumming, her cunt and thighs twitching as she grips the rope tying her hands together. time stops for her, all she can feel is white hot pleasure coursing through her veins for what felt like the millionth time that day. she gulps and gasps for air, feeling her cunt and inner thighs dampening from her cum. mel chuckles at her poor girlfriend, clearly overstimulated as she soaks her in her squirt. her eyes are practically heart shaped as she meets sevika’s soft and exhausted gaze.

“my love.” mel giggles. sevika takes a deep breath, lips quivering.

“untie me, please.” sevika begs. so mel does, gently unwrapping the rope from her wrists, tits, and legs, cutting some parts that are too stubborn to untangle.

the first thing sevika does when she’s free from her binds is dive forward and pin mel to the bed. they’re both slightly damp all over from a mix of cum, sweat, and tears, but neither of them care. sevika presses small kisses all over mel’s face as they both giggle and try to catch their breath together.

“mmh… i need a nap now.” sevika mumbles sleepily.

“let me give you a bath first, babe.” mel suggests, “i don’t want you to wake up sore.”

“i’ll fall asleep in the bath, though.” she frowns.

“no you won’t, i’ll let you grope me as much as you want and it’ll keep you awake.”

they both laugh at this, exhausted and in love and glued to each other. eventually, they’ll get up, once mel feels the drool leaking out of sevika’s mouth and wakes her up again. but for now, sevika will get her five more minutes of cuddles that she begged for earlier that morning.

[yyaktayak]

Chapter 2💌

tags ! : @uceyliyahh @charmed-dreamssss @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

DAMIANXKEOIR

Kemani Keoir August

-Kemani's POV

After Damian left, I took a deep breath, focusing back on Jey. The injury to his leg wasn't too serious, but it had been nagging him for weeks. He'd pushed through it, of course wrestlers always did but I could tell he was starting to feel the toll. It was just the nature of the job.

I finished up with him, giving him a few exercises to do over the next couple of days. He gave me a thankful nod, then limped out of the room, probably headed straight to grab some food or rest.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I leaned back in my chair for a second, closing my eyes. The world around me was loud, full of energy, but my own little corner of it was peaceful. Just the way I liked it.

I picked up my phone again, scrolling past Michin's latest message. I'd been avoiding it, but I knew I couldn't keep dodging her. I opened the chat and read her latest reply: "Stop holding on to that hurt before you miss out on something good!"

I sighed, unsure of how to respond. I washolding onto the past, wasn't I? It wasn't just Young Thug, though. It was everything. The people I'd trusted. The chances I never took. The love I kept locked away. I wasn't ready to give it up. But Michin didn't give up on me. Ever.

A new message popped up from her "Also saw the way Damian's been looking at you 👀"

My heart skipped a beat. I had noticed it too—Damian's presence was different, but I wasn't about to read too much into it. He was just doing his job. Right?

I set my phone down, deciding to push those thoughts aside for now. Work had to come first. Always

Lyke Kaien Martinez

-Damian's POV

I walked down the hall, hands shoved deep in my pockets, mind still partially on the session I'd just witnessed. Jey was in good hands with Kemani, no doubt about it. The way she handled him, the way she carried herself calm, focused, professional. There was an ease to her that made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. And I respected that.

But there was something else. Something I couldn't quite pinpoint.

I shook my head. Focus, Damian. I was just here to make sure Jey was taken care of, nothing more. Still, I found myself replaying the way she'd been during the session how effortlessly she took charge of everything. It was impressive.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the wall outside her office for a second, thinking about the day ahead. That's when I got a notification on my phone. It was from her.

I didn't even realize I'd been following her on social media until now. She had posted something simple: "Love ain't always complicated."I couldn't help but think it was a subtle reminder that life didn't have to be as messy as I sometimes made it.

Maybe she's got it figured out, I thought, half-smiling to myself.

I looked at the time. I had a meeting in five minutes. I should probably get moving. I made my way back toward the locker rooms, my mind still lingering on Kemani. I wasn't about to dive into anything too quickly, but I couldn't deny that something about her intrigued me.

For now, I had to focus on the job. But somewhere deep down, I knew that wasn't the last time our paths would cross.

As I left the hallway, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe I was starting to understand why Jey had been so reluctant to leave her office. There was something calming about being around her, something that made the weight of the day feel just a little bit lighter

Archerofinfamy has posted a story !

"I just want a chance, hopefully I make you glad"

@uceyjucey has replied to your story : is this about K?

↪️@Archerofinfamy: mmcht.. yea ionk uce she make me feel something I ain't felt since .. ykw

@uceyjucey : go for it .

@keoirthescientist has replied to your story : I love your tattoos Ly!🙂💘

↪️@Archerofinfamy: thanks phat🖤

@keoirthesvientist: phat?😳

↪️Archerofinfamy : yes phat das my nickname fa you so only I can call you it 🙂‍↕️

keoirthescientist: well then I guess I'll have to come up with one for you!😳

↪️Archerofinfamy: bet phat.

Click to view more replies !

little did they know.. this was only the BEGINNING .

A/N: WHAT DO WE THINK??

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, part 4 here, and finally part 5 here. Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

[robinfollies]

me and the guy i pulled by accidentally implying i like jazz music

[frankiebirds]

the day i stop thinking about the ending of s02e11 sex, birth, death is the day i die.

like. reid coming extremely close to needing to be dragged away from nathan?

both garcia and reid's expressions here? reid, who cares for and identifies with nathan, garcia, who has (i believe) never seen a dead body* in person? (also, you can't see it here because it's a still image, but reid's breath is hitching here and he looks close to hyperventilating)

*i know nathan is not dead here, nor does he die at all—the point im making is that having never seen a dead body in person before would make you more unprepared for seeing the aftermath of an unsuccessful suicide attempt than someone who has

reid makes no movement to clean the blood off his hands until gideon is right in front of him. he just stands there and stares like hes dissociating until gideon comes up and, in my opinion, sort of startles him into acting.

and gideon putting an arm around reid and taking him away from the scene while morgan does the same to garcia. hhhh.

this is the most emotional we see reid get up to this point. he's yelling while he's trying to keep nathan arrive, enough to strain his voice. i dont think hes so much as raised his voice at all up to this point.

i wonder how long he washed his hands for before he deemed himself "clean".

[wayfinderships]

The power has done out multiple times today😔 not the most ideal when it's been so hot lately-

[icewindandboringhorror]

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

[triglycercule]

I love reading your tags section

thank you qin-qin16 its where i do one of the things i do moderately well: YAP ‼️‼️‼️😁😁😁😁😁🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏✨✨✨✨

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I'm so burnt out and stressed about a variety of things lately, but a funny / sweet coincidence recently happened that I wanted to share:

Last week, I had a university student reach out to me (via my work email) asking for resources / advice on their research paper because I've written a lot of articles about the thing they're writing about. (I just got back to them today and they were real sweet, I'm excited to see how their paper turns out)

A week or two ago, I had someone reach out to me on RA asking for some specific clip info / date info because they were doing a research paper about Pac, and today I saw that they published their paper and put a special thanks to RA in the notes :')

I just think it's very sweet and a funny coincidence that my work (professional and fandom work) is getting cited in research papers. It made me smile a lot, I genuinely love that.

[asmolbirb]

.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.