#do you have any idea the state you've left me in?!!

[mvtk42]

There is no greater horror to an avid reader than the sudden realization that the pages of the book you're REALLY FUCKING ENJOYING are dwindling down FAR TOO RAPIDLY for all the plot threads to be solved in time....

..... except by the twin realizations that not only is your book the first in a series.....

...... THE NEXT BOOK ISN'T EVEN CLOSE TO BEING OUT YET.

[1nk20ul]

Jonathan Sims ALIVE?? I Believe I Have Proof.

(Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol!)

You heard that right. And if you've listened to TMP 39 - Dependents, you've heard it too. Not only can I prove without the shadow of a doubt that not one, but two Archivists are roaming TMA's London, but I can also prove with spectrogram + phonetical analysis exactly what Jon is saying.

Let me prove it to you.

First, let's start with an unedited audio sample, taken at 16:30:

Did you catch it? If you didn't, I don't blame you. There's a lot happening here. Let's check the official transcript for more context about what we're hearing.

So, what we're hearing is definitely the Archivist. It's evident that it's whispering something, but the specifics are currently hidden under layers of reverb, static, and tape winding. Let's clean it up a bit to get a better listen. I pitched the audio down 30%, reduced the background noise, and ran it through a few frequency filters to make the speech more prominent.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, that's definitely Jon.

At the very least, we know this is obviously not Beth Eyre, who voices [ERROR]. Since the transcript states that this audio has to come from an Archivist, that really only leaves us with one other possibility.

But let's assume you still don't believe me. I took the liberty of isolating the vocals entirely and running them through a linguistics analysis programme called Praat (which is fantastic + free by the way!). This way, we can analyse the speech all the way down to the position of the Archivist's mouth when speaking.

Here's the new sample we're working with:

I admit, the speech is a tad more muffled in this version. However, the lack of background noise makes the spectrogram much easier to read, which is what we are aiming for here. We're far past the point of just using our ears.

Behold the Spectrogram:

Looking at this diagram, we can conclude that there are four words being spoken here. (The second word is the gap in the middle part. Note the density shift at around 1000Hz. We know this word must be free of any sharp consonants.) More importantly, the formants provided can be compared to samples of Jon's RP dialect to determine if there's a match. If the frequencies match, it's the same voice. If we get the wavelengths to match, it's the same word.

Let's start with the first word. I'll skip the specifics, as explaining every minute detail would take forever and bore everyone to death. The left image was extracted from the spectrogram above. The right photo? That's Jon saying the word "this."

Note how both waveforms are split into two halves, low then high. Note how the high half trails off at the end. Take into account the similar placement of the red formants. This is the same word, pronounced in the exact same dialect, with the exact same frequency. It is Jon.

Let's do that again with the second word.

Again, the formants line up in the exact same order. The audio on the right is a bit louder, which is why the waveforms have a higher contrast.

What did this word happen to be? World.

Here is the original spectrogram in Audacity. The two bright spots on the right-hand side are easy. It's the same sound as the end of the first word as well. (Notice the frequencies are the same.) These are an easy Letter S. I then fact-checked this using methods like before.

Finally, we have clear, undeniable proof:

"This world isn’t yours."

Edit: thank you to @thestrangepoet for correcting “is” to “isn’t!” The presence of the letter T was a bit inconclusive, but it makes so much more sense in this context.

Now, what does that actually mean? Well, he’s likely referring to Sam. The extent of what he actually knows I’m uncertain of. Feel free to theorise and let me know! I have an idea about how this affects the overall story, but that's a post for another day.

I furthermore checked every single instance [ERROR] spoke for occurrences like this, and what did I find? Nothing. There was a bit of whispering in TMP 10 that I couldn't manage to isolate, but the voice was definitely Beth Eyre's. The only other time an Archivist audibly appeared in this fashion was... Oh, Hello. The TMP series teaser with Jon and Martin. Brilliant.

Now I just have to hope that nothing gets debunked by tomorrow. I'm crossing my fingers, TMP 40.

Thank you to Rusty Quill for sending me down this rabbit hole! The details added to all corners of the production bring so much life to the Magnus mystery. I'm glad I could dig deep and analyse this - We love you!

[secretlovezz]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[unluckilyimnot]

slow morning w/ sae, rin, hiori, kaiser

note: Omori's Kel mentioned, pet name 'love' used with Hiori. After some time writing for them, i thought i'll get back to it with something cute. i just read the chapters i missed, i'm in a huge bllk brainrot again

m.list | rules

Sae

It rarely happens, Sae staying in bed after 7 in the morning – that's usually the later he can handle. So when you feel his arms wrapped around you again after you roll to the other side, leaving him space to get up slowly after you feel him switch, there's a warm feeling spreading through your body. You turn around, nesting your head on the crock of his neck with small, bubbling sounds that make his heart soften every time. He holds you closer, if possible, and you swear if you could you'll start purring the second his fingers go through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly without touching any sensible era. You feel your mind drifting away slowly again, but you don't resist it. Instead you enjoy his soft attention until you fall asleep again.

When you wake up, Sae's sitting on the edge of the bed by your side. His hand goes kindly through your hair again, but this time he's fully dressed and you can smell coffee on his hand when it brushes your cheek. 

"Breakfast's ready," he said rather blankly but you perceive the softness in his eyes. You rub against his hand. 

"What time is it ?" 

"Around 9 and a half ." There's no way on earth he's waiting this long.

"You've eaten already?"

"No." You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart skipping a beat. He really waited for you. 

So got up quickly, putting on some shorts and one of his sweaters he kindly handed you before following him to the living room. Breakfast is settled on the low table in front of the TV playing whatever kid shows aired at that time. On the rare morning and breakfast you share with Sae, it is an obligation to watch this – that helps him clear his mind, he says, since he doesn't have to think.

You sit next to him and pull your tray on his tights, wandering around it a little before eating some rice first. You could find all the things you liked, along with some rice because he'll never put that away. 

Keeping only your cup of coffee after being done with most of the food on the tray, you put it back to the table and lay on his shoulder, enjoying the small contact the best. Enjoying this whole morning at its fair value, because you had no idea when this would happen again. 

Kaiser 

"We have to get up," Michael said seriously for like, the fifth time, but you still wouldn't get up from your lying state on top of his body. He's so warm and cuddly, how could he ask you that ?

"Not yet," you mumble, face down in his chest.

"It's literally 11," he objected, desperate to just get up and get, at least, his running routine done today. "Don't 'no yet' me. I have things to do." 

Without any warnings, he tossed you to the side and went straight to the window, opening the shutters. You shouted at him not to, but it was too late and when he looked back at you again, you were now just a ball below the cover, whining at the "holy light". He held his laugh, he couldn't let you know how cute and funny you were while doing this when he was, supposedly, mad at you. But God he loved it.

Without any further goals in this room, he left for the kitchen and started making your breakfast for you until you were ready to face the sunlight. It never took you too long, so he wasn't worried. He took his time, putting coffee on the heat stove until it was ready, preparing both your salty and sweet parts of it along his, despite not eating the same things. Before he was even done, your arms were already wrapped around his waist, still whining at the light burning your eyes. 

He really liked it, morning like this. It was dear to his heart, sweet moments with you that was worth putting his career aside for a day. He was scared he got too used to it, scared this could vanish but, still, he couldn't imagine a world without you anymore.

Hiori 

On his resting days, Hiori likes to lay in bed longer than he should. He becomes one with the blanket, looking more like a giant worm than your boyfriend. You know he'd die to have you stuck in his arms until he's fully awake, which you don't mind most of the time, but the rare time you're awake before him it's a living nightmare not being able to simply turn around and take your phone to wait. So you flee away from the bed without making any noises, getting dressed in the living room so you can be the one, for once, making breakfast. 

You took your time, leaving him to enjoy his day off a little longer but you still couldn't let him sleep all day – he'll be mad at himself. Preparing it all, you cracked some eggs and let them cook before moving to toast some bread and cut avocados. You make sure to not boil the water for his tea, preparing it last in fact to be sure he has it while it's still fuming like he likes.

It was almost done when his arms held you from behind, his head laying on top of yours. You turned the kettle on, his cup only waiting for the warm water. 

"Are you ok with avocado toast ? We still had two that were done. It didn't want to waste them," you started but your rumble fell into deaf ears when his lips began drawing patterns along your neck, straight to your shoulder, making you giggle. 

"That's perfect," he answered, purring in your ear when his face rested on your shoulder, looking down at the pretty plate you just made. "Thank you, love."

You can't help but look away, even if he can't really see you. You pull him with you when you move, since he's glued to your back now it seems. You pour his drink, and proceed to ask him where he wants to eat ; you're not surprised when he murmurs in front of the let's play you two started not so long ago. 

"You put this on and I bring it all there ?" you proposed cheerfully. He lets you go with a grunt, kissing your head quickly before leaving with you on his tracks with two cups. He already saw it, but he loves the story so much he wanted to share it with you. You actually liked it a lot, it was easy to watch and the story was amazing. You two easily spend hours sitting in front of it. 

"I'm so sad Kel loses his rock," you commented, your breakfast long forgotten and his arms holding you close. 

"Yeah, I was too the first time," he grinned, kissing your head again. "Don't worry, he'll get over it though." 

You nod, believing him.

Rin 

A slow morning with Rin is whatever he wants it to be, so if you ask anyone else, they would tell you that this has nothing to do with a slow morning. He wakes up early, no matter how hard you try to keep him in bed with you – but you know you're getting better at it 'cause it's harder every time for him to say no. He takes a long shower, washing his hair thoughtfully and taking care of his skin. He spends a lot of time in the bathroom, between shaving and doing his skincare, before doing some meditation in the living room so he knows it won't bother your sleep.

By the time he's done, you're usually awake but still groggy, he has to be patient with you. You always fo for him, it doesn't matter if he's barely done or packing his appetite mattress, you'll always lay on him or grab him from behind with a tired hello.

You try to help him cook but you always end up sitting still, half sleeping on the table with a fuming cup of whatever you felt like having this morning ; of course he made it for you. 

The thing is, Rin wants to be done with his routine before you wake up, that way he can let himself enjoy doing nothing in your company for a few hours without feeling bad or in a rush. He likes taking care of you, making things for you, it doesn't matter if you feel like it was too much. You have no idea how much you give him in return. Even if you were not fully awake, you always were the best company he could wish for. You talk about your weird dreams, bring back old situations to talk this out again even if he barely answers you sometimes. 

"That was something for sure, what happened next ?" He asked, giving you your plate and sitting next to you with his, listening to your creepy dream. 

It never gets boring, he always likes to listen to you talking nonsense in the morning.

"Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie," he commented.

"The beginning ?" you gasped, flabbergasted. "More like the most scary scene, please I felt so, so deranged." 

By now you're fully awake and you start doing bigger gestures, give him dirty looks when he disagrees with you and he doesn't do everything he can so you don't see the way he smiles at you. 

So no, his slow morning isn't what most people think it is. But simply having time to talk with you in the morning, without thinking of anything else, is his own definition. 

Let me know if you liked it!

[littlelovelunette]

"Please, Be Gentle."

Ambessa Medarda x Vampire!Reader

Contains suggestive themes, dubcon, g!p!Ambessa, passing out, Ambessa ignores safeword, blood sucking, degradation, dacryphillia

Do not read if you can't handle what's mentioned above.

You knew you shouldn't have. You knew it. But you still did it. Just before one of Ambessa's most important battles, you were so thirsty for blood, your throat felt like it was closing up. You were left feeling weakened and shivering from the coldness creeping into your bones. Ambessa noticed your pitiful state and crouched next to your frame. "Love, what's wrong?" She grabbed the underside of your arms and propped you up so you could make eye contact with her.

Her hair was up, golden earrings gleaming in the faint sunlight peeking through the blinds. You couldn't help it. You lunged. You lunged and sunk your small yet sharp fangs into Ambessa's neck causing her to gasp and tense for a second. "You could've told me you were thirsty." Ambessa said in your ear, voice low and controlled despite the piercing pain subjected on her sensitive neck. "I would've had vials prepared for you."

Her big hand rested on your ass as you took your fill, moaning when the iron-like taste of her blood hit her tongue. Ambessa wasn't bothered by the pain, but when you slowly let go, licking and kissing the bite mark, Ambessa rose to her feet. A pang of dizziness hit her due to the sudden lack of blood, and she fell to the floor onto her knees in front of you with a loud thunk of her armour.

Despite the lightheadedness settling in, Ambessa had a reputation to uphold, an empire to defend, and a war to win. She couldn't afford to falter. So, with a sharp breath, she steadied herself, rising to her full height as if nothing had happened. The battlefield awaited.

But even a lion can bleed.

She fought with her usual ferocity, yet the toll was undeniable. She moved slower, her strikes less precise. The enemy saw an opening and took it. The battle was lost.

When she returned to the Medarda estate, bloodied and furious, her presence alone made the air in the room heavy. Armour still on, fists clenched at her sides, she barely looked at you before speaking, voice edged with restrained rage. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" She ripped her gold mask off, soaked in blood. She threw it somewhere in the private quarters making you wince.

"Did the war not go well?" You asked timidly, feeling stupid for even asking that. Ambessa's hand wrapped around your throat eliciting a sharp gasp. She lifted you off the ground. "You blood thirsty idiot. You never find the right time to feed do you?" Ambessa snapped.

"I'm sorry." You choked out, scratching at her hand and trying to pull it away from your throat. You struggled against her hold making Ambessa narrow her gaze, without warning she threw you on top of the soft silken bed. Ambessa unzipped her pants, letting her hardened cock out, leaking precum over the mahogany sheets but she didn't care. Anger blinded Ambessa.

A sort of anger she never ever directed towards you before. Ambessa grabbed your knees and forced your legs apart. "Look." She said condescendingly and raised a leg to force her boot against your crotch. You gasped, "'Bessa!" You whimpered when she pressed it harder against your cunt.

"Shut it, whore. You only speak when spoken to." Ambessa pressed her boot harder. "You're aroused because I lost a fucking battle. Do you realise the extent your sluttiness has gone to?" You only whimpered, looking away. Ambessa smacked her lips before she pulled her shoe off of you, grabbing your panties and tearing them off.

You gasped when the coldness hit your warm body. You were a vampire so it was generic for you to have a naturally cold body but since you fed off of Ambessa today morning, your body was warmer than most other days.

Ambessa didn't wait for you to adjust to anything and lifted your legs to fold your body, slamming her cock inside your small hole.

A loud moan tore through your throat, fingers bundling in the sheets as your lower abdomen bulged due to the sheer force of her pounding. You were a babbling mess, tears streaming down your face as you shivered and trembled in her arms. Ambessa slapped your ass hard, a red handprint forming on your skin. She didn't stop, not once. She degraded you as she rammed inside.

"Such a fucking slut." Her words were punctuated with her slams. You choked on your own sobs, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Fucking tight little cunt. All for me to spoil and punish." Ambessa cursed. "I can't take this, please." You begged, eyes squeezing shut. Ambessa slapped your ass again, squeezing the flesh as her cock twitched inside you, stretching you out to the limit.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Ambessa didn't stop pounding in you vigorously, her hands squeezed your thighs harshly as she pistoned her hips back and forth. "I'm sorry...!" You sniffled, grabbing the sheets tighter than before, your legs twitching. "Red! Red!" You uttered your safe word, limbs falling to the sides, legs unfolding as you cried harder.

Ambessa didn't stop. She only kept going. Dark spots creeped into the edges of your vision and before you knew it, you lost consciousness. Ambessa gave you few more strokes before she finished inside. Slowly, she pulled herself out, glancing at your unconscious body. "Oh, dear." Powerful hands anchored your body to her own, she held onto you, lacing her fingers through your hair as she watched the semen dripping out of your hole.

Ambessa hated herself for what she did, blinded by rage but what could she do about it now? She'd already done it. She slowly placed you on the bed to lay down, you'd endured more than enough for the day.

When you came to, Ambessa was wiping your body away, her touch precise and careful. You winced, your whole body was aching. "I'm sorry..." The words repeated on your tongue, eyes filling with tears again. "I'm so sorry." You sobbed, grabbing the nearest pillow and burying your face into it. You felt lightheaded already, worn out due to the rough fucking you'd taken. You needed more blood and you knew it, but the consequences of you feeding off the warlord flashed in your mind and guild flooded your chest.

"Sweetheart." Ambessa pulled you into her own embrace, "I lost control." She said before burying her nose in your hair. "I lost control, I shouldn't have continued when you said your safeword." You could hear the guilt in her voice. You shook your head.

"I shouldn't have fed off of you." You mumbled. "I'm sorry. I won't again."

"Don't say that." Ambessa stroked your cheek with her thumb, wiping your tears away, "I know things may not have been ideal but, I love you." Ambessa pulled you in her lap, your body ached yet you stayed there. You needed her warmth, your own body felt cold.

"I love you too." You mumbled, putting your face in her shoulder. Ambessa felt your laboured breaths and knew you need blood. You were tired, teetering at the edge of any consciousness.

"Sweetheart." Ambessa cooed, pulling your head back, "You're not okay. Come on, breathe with me." She said, her hands running down your bare back and holding you against herself protectively.

You felt ashamed to even ask for it but you knew you needed it to survive. In a frail whisper, you uttered, "Blood, please..." Ambessa's gaze softened and she moved so you could get further comfortable on her lap.

"You're thirsty?" Ambessa asked and you nodded. "Take a sip then, my dear." Ambessa tilted her head to give you more access to the curve of her neck where you usually bit.

You looked up at her, nervously fidgeting with a loose hair strand of your own before you decided it was okay. Leaning in, your teeth grazed on her dark, scarred skin before finding the previous wound mark. You sunk your teeth in, moaning at the taste, your eyes glowing red. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you wrapped your arms around Ambessa in a loving embrace, teeth latched onto her now bleeding wound.

"Drink up." Ambessa whispered, silently playing with your hair.

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Hi, I love your writing! Could you please update either "Danny's grill", "Congratulations! It's Triplets!" or "Phantom's number 1 fan"? Please and thank you

Jason is once again reviewing the map of potential areas Alvin could have been operating in when his burner phone rings. He snatches it up before it can pass the fourth ring, pressing it gently against his ear.

He offers no greeting. It's a tactic he uses to ensure that whoever is calling him has permission to do so. If someone attempts to conform his informants' and allies connection with him, Jason is not about to give them away by speaking first.

"Hey Boss," Honeycomb's voice filters through, edged by that familiar overdramatic southern draw she did when working. Apparently, the clients like listening to her use her accent. "I got eyes on that doll you've been searching for."

Jason sits up straighter. "Where and when?"

Honeycomb is one of the working girls who's been with him since his return to Gotham. She was the first to sign up for his protection, long before he did the whole heads in a duffle bag thing, and was one of his best eyes and ears on the street in exchange.

He didn't know her real name or age- but he was sure she wasn't underage. He made it clear he wouldn't allow it. All Jason knew about Honeycomb was that she had run away from her home in the southern states with nothing but her pretty face, blond curls, hazel eyes, and the clothes on her back.

She was feisty and could charm her way out of most problems with her silver tongue. Her manipulation of her clients was almost an art form, and she could get any information out of anyone with a well-placed hand on the air and a sweet little "darling" on her grubby lips. He often thought she would have been a lawyer if life had been fair to her.

"Just now, on Ruby Street. He was with a man in his late teenage to early twenties. About six feet five inches, black hair, blue eyes, and Caucasian. Alvin was wearing black tights and a red hoodie. The man is in jeans and a white zip-up." Honeycomb rattles in one smooth report, the huskiness of her accent making her articulation more pleasant to the ear. "Seems they were doing a photo shoot."

Jason is already moving towards his bike, switching her call to his helmet. His stomach turns slightly as he grunts, "What kind of photoshoot?"

"Not that kind, Darling. Seemed more like a scavenger hunt, according to Alvin. They are finding specific landscapes and making posses that are answers to some riddles." Honeycomb responds. Distantly, her heels clicking against the concrete echo a little louder, letting Jason know she has wandered into an alley. "I approached Alvin when the man with him went up a fire escape to take a picture with a gargoyle. I offered him my service to him as a cover. Once he confirmed his name was Alvin and he was already with a client, I left before he could get the idea I was attempting to steal his work."

"Good job." Jason boots up his bike, flying out of his hideout without hesitation. He was still twenty minutes away from Ruby Street, but if the pair was going to be a moment, he could close the distance between them and find a trail to follow once on scene.

He questions as he flies through two lanes, ignoring the honking of angry divers. "How did Alvin look? He's supposed to be with one of my contacts, so if he's with someone, it might be a John roughing him up."

I'll deal with Victorian later. He mentally swears How dare he not tell me, Alvin went back to the field after hiding out for so long without a ounce of protection.

"The sweetheart doesn't seem hurt, but I can tell his client is one of those problematic kinds." Honeycombs sighs, the edges of unease slipping into her voice. "He looks at Alvin like he's in love."

Shit. It's never suitable for working folks to meet someone who "loves" them. Nine out of ten times, it was just a wacko who became violent the moment the prostitute so much as hinted that this was only a job to them. Jason had pulled out three women's bodies from the Brown River the last time one of those clients fell in love.

Jason pressed harder on the accelerator. "Are they still there?"

Honeycomb hums "The John is on the roof now, but Alvin is waiting for him under the street pole-Oh shit!"

Jason nearly slams into a nearby car at her sudden yell. "What happened?"

She doesn't answer, but he can pick up the sound of her running and her fast breathing. He knows she is getting out of danger because if there is one thing Honeycomb is as a person, she's a survivor. He wants answers but would rather she focus on getting herself safe first.

He meanwhile, concentrates on the phone calls and the vehicles he's flying between.

It's a few minutes before she gasps. "Sorry, Darling, I had to run. Batman was on the roof with the John."

What.

"Batman just appeared out of nowhere and threw a bucket of mud at the john. Alvin didn't seem to notice, but I did. Batman made eye contact with me, so I ran." She concludes, pushing through her uneven breathing. "I have to go, Darling. Hideout before the Bats lock me up."

"That's alright. Stay safe." Jason tells her, taking a turn sharply as she hangs up the call without another word. The second she does, he double-taps his helmet to connect to the Bat communications.

"Barbie. I need to know what B is up to now."

_________________________________________________________

Bruce watches the Fae shake the mud out of his face after he has scrambled down the fire escape. Tim was at his side in a second, using a handkerchief to gently clean up the Fae's face.

There were a lot of whispered words, but based on what Bruce could pick up from lip reading, Tim had no idea he was up here. He just assumed the Fae got caught up in a juvenile prank.

Oddly enough, that was primarily due to the Fae covering for Bruce.

It was rather disappointing the repealing spell hadn't worked, but the Justice League Dark the mixture of John's Wort, primroses, and marsh marigolds mushed together with water socked in iron during the full moon should have made it possible to force the contact with Tim to break down.

Of course, this had been a desperate attempt, seeing as all the JL Dark had been unsure which method was best when he asked how to get a Fae to leave a human alone.

A lot of debate went into finding a solution, but in the end, Bruce had chosen a mixture repellent. He had even decided to use some holy water and trough in blessed soil and blessed iron just to make it extra powerful.

The magic users had all assured him it would work as long as it touched the Fae skin while Bruce chanted Tim's full legal name. It had felt rather ridiculous dragging a bucket half the size of himself through the city, trying to spot where Tim and his companion were, and even more so when he had sprinted across the rooftop screaming.

"Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake!"

The Fae had been in the middle of taking a photo. He set up his camera on a little tripod and, after pressing the time, had run to face the city- back facing Bruce- raising his arms to form a triangle above his head. Based on fact the camera was slightly lower then the Fae's torso, Bruce could deduct her was attempting to capture himself making the triangle top of one of the most iconic buildings in Gotham.

Spear tower.

He waited only long enough for the flash to go off, so by the time the Fae turned around, he had a face full of mud.

It splat all over his front, covering every inch of what should have set Tim free. The silence followed was louder than anything Bruce had ever heard, even as the Fae calmly picked up his camera and scurried to the ground.

Bruce let him go, wondering why he had failed. Thankfully, it seemed Tim and the Fae were getting back in their car- not the food truck for some reason- and were driving away.

Tonight, Bruce would find its lair and get his son home because letting him take a relaxing vacation was alarming to the rest of his children.

He rushed to the Batmobile, climbing into the driver seat and taking off after the pair. As he was driving, he could have sworn Jason just passed by him, moving like the devil was after him.

Bruce wondered briefly if he should check in on his third oldest but thought better of it when he noticed Cass, Dick, and Duke driving right behind Jason on their own bikes. His children had each other backs.

A few hours later, Bruce stood before a large empty field. He had watched the Fae drive into it and vanish from sight. None of his machines could pick up any hint on where they might have gone, but he was reasonably sure there wasn't any teleportation involved.

Sometimes teleportation left some traces in the airwaves. It's how Bruce could track people using the boom tub or find the Flash whenever Barry went on a craze.

Bruce was thinking that this was the Fae's court and his magical home was being protected by supernatural means. He just had to figure out how to get in and Tim out.

As he was considering the field, a soft, distant roar made him reach for his weapons. He turns one hand poise for a throw, his trusted batarangs in between his fingers, only to become surprised when he recognizes the vehicles driving towards him.

It was his spare Batmobile and four bird-themed motorbikes. His children.

"B?" Dick questions after spinning to a stop and sliding right in front of Bruce. He lowers his window, looking at him with apparent confusion despite the Nightwing mask blocking his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following a lead on the Fae. What are you doing here?" Bruce asks, lowering his arm but keeping his weapon. He could never be too sure this isn't a trick.

"Following a lead on Tim." Dick responds, stepping out of his car. Two other doors open, and out steps Steph and Damian, both looking posed for a fight. Of all his children, those two tend to be the most territorial and have not taken to Tim being a semi-held hostage well. "Oracle was able to track him through the city cameras after he popped up taking photos."

"hmm"

Jason jogged over to them with Cass not far behind. "Wait,, you got a lead on your cases too? We would check in on Victorian and see if he knew anything about Alvin."

He gestures to those behind him, indicating Cass and Duke, but the daytime hero is not paying attention. Duke was staring at the field, mouth slightly open as if in awe. Bruce straightens once he realizes Duke can probably see or at least detect the magical castle.

"Victorian?" Damian asks, crossing his arms. "Who is that?"

"The owner of the giant mansion we're standing in front of. He's one of my contacts."

"Ugh, not to make you feel crazy, Hoodie," Steph speaks up, placing a hand on the crook of her hip and waving her hand to the field. "But there is literally nothing there

"What are you talking about. This place is bigger than Wayne Manor."

Bruce heard about this. Guests who have been here before or have permission to enter can see glimpses of the Otherworld that Fae deals in. However, it is surprising to know Jason has already been in contact with the Fae before and has not been kept.

Did that throw a wrench in his theory of Tim and Alvin being the same person? Why would the Fae ask Jason to find Tim if he was in the creature's home?

Before anyone could say anything else, a giant gate entrance suddenly manifested mere feet from where Bruce stood. A soft creek was heard as it was thrown open, and a glowing woman in an old mail outfit floated just a foot off the ground on the other side. She eyed them all in an eerie, emotionless face before bending her own into a low bow. "Welcome. My King wishes to invite you in."

Well, that's not ominous at all.

His children shared a look between them, silently letting each other know to be cautious as they followed the floating woman. She led them down an impressive driveway that slowly gave way to a massive mansion.

Bruce fought to keep the surprise off his face. Jason was right. This place was more prominent and grander than his manor. It didn't just scream wealth. It screamed nobility; it screamed royalty.

The group walked into the main hall, some muttering thanks to the bowing woman who opened the doors. "Of course. The King stated that his home would always be open to Master Alvin's kin."

She vanished from sight like mist fading away as soon as they crossed the doorway.

Bruce's eyes instantly landed on the figure standing atop the grand stairs. Tim was gawking at them, wearing nothing but a long, seductive black robe with fluffy collars and wrists. The front of the rob was open, displaying a large amount of chest and thigh, but keeping the significant bits out of sight.

Thankfully.

His skin was glowing, his hair tussled stylishly, and a dozen red roses were in his hands. Tim looked like he was planning a romantic evening in his get-up.

"Oh," He said dumbly. "You're not Danny."

"What the fuck is going on" Jason demanded after a long period of silence.

"Um...I was planning on seducing my friend. What are you all doing?"

"Regretting waking up this morning," Damian demands, pressing a hand over his eyes. "Please get decent. My nightmares are horrid enough."

Bruce nods. "You were Alvin Draper and are romantically involved with the Fae. He seems to be treating you well. That's good."

All of his children stared at him for a long moment before the hall erupted with displeased noises. Bruce was taken aback.

Did none of them know any of this? It seemed obvious to him.

[kleptokure]

Eyes On The Prize *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN!Reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Traveling came natural to you, as staying in one place for an extended amount of time led you to get fidgety. You cannot be chained to one mere kingdom, and you believe must explore all of Earthbread!

As of right now, you are on your umpteenth trip. An adventure to a place most cookies advised you to avoid, which is none other than Beast-Yeast.

But who are they to tell you where to and not to go? Spirit is hard to break, and you made sure to show them that. You trusted you would do a quick exploration of the geography, then check it off your bucket list.

Now, you fall flat in knowing why you were adamant this was a good idea. Exploring was easier said than done. The map of the mysterious land is not even complete! You set yourself up for failure, and you wish to travel back to regions more cheerful.

Alas, that option is unavailable. You find yourself disoriented, now walking along a trail while also uncertain of its destination.

Up ahead of the pathway, you spot a Barrel Inn! Quickening your pace to make your way towards the safe space, you feel the slightest sense of being watched all of a sudden.

Turning around to look through the eerie branches stemming from the trees, you find no one to suspect. Fatigue must've taken its course on your dough, so you dismiss the idea. The thought of a jug filled with cream root beer occupies more space in your mind.

Opening the door to the Inn, you see quite a few of patrons. It comes as surprising, since the lone cookie you've come across is some lazy caramel cookie who has the ability to change between cookie to chameleon.

You opted to sit in the furthest corner, as you would rather avoid conversation with anyone here. You are unsure about whom you can trust in a place like this.

Despite that, once you take the first sip of your given carbonated drink, a cookie takes their seat next to you.

"Hey, you!" They immediately spoke, a boisterous tone taking place in their words. It was clear they were inebriated from the audible hiccups that followed.

"Did you know that... there are beasts here?" That serves as typical drunken talk, causing you to avoid giving responses

"It... It's true! The beasts are real, and you might find one in these parts..." The drunk cookie expressed as if they knew you regarded their speech as imaginary.

"If you feel like yur being watched, then you're already their next victim!" That statement is what causes you to feel anxious.

Before you could ask any questions, the cookie left within the moment you turned to them. You were curious, as you still recall the moment before you stepped inside the tavern.

Then you sense a tap on your shoulder, causing you to startle. Diverting your gaze, you turn to see a cookie with milky light blue hair flowing down to her dress. Not to mention her mismatched colored eyes, which were a pair to gape at.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, but could you be a dear and help me?" Her velvet voice questioned, stating her rationale for the sudden intrusion.

"What is it?" There is not much left to do on your schedule, besides getting back home, which looks to be unattainable. It wouldn't hurt to assist her.

Although, you do remember the intoxicated cookie's words. But could the dainty lady standing near have much of a possibility to be a beast?

No, that sounds like utter nonsense. Your exhaustion must be causing you to find truth in that strange cookie's words.

"I fear I've dropped my basket along the way, and a few cake hounds decided to reclaim my carrier as their own," she said with a defeated tone.

"Surely a strong cookie like you would be able to assist me?" Her voice took on an unexpected high pitch that one would consider abnormal. Would it be a risk to assume she's flirting with you right now? Beast-Yeast never fails to live up to its unusual traits..

"Um... Sure. Lead the way," you accepted, much to her favor. There were little opportunities to finish your beer, but oh well.

Wandering across the familiar pathway, you decide to start up some small talk with the cookie.

"So, what's your name?" You asked, walking beside the cookie.

"It's... Blueberry Milk Cookie!" She sounded eager to make the announcement.

"Nice to meet you, Blueberry Milk Cookie. I’m [Name] Cookie," you stated.

"Even your name is quite grand..." she mutters to herself.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, there's my basket!" Averting your attention, Blueberry Milk Cookie points ahead.

Preparing to fight, you stare towards a clear area, just to the right of the path you both walk.

But there lacks the cake hounds you expected to see, leaving you with confusion.

"Oh, looks like they left. Isn't that nice?" Blueberry Milk Cookie advances over to her basket with a casual step. Her demeanor so easygoing makes you find it hard to believe there were any hostile creatures here in the first place.

"Blueberry Milk Cookie... Were there any cake hounds here to begin with?" She can hear the doubt in your tone, making her hold back laughter.

Basket in hand, the lax cookie walks far closer than she should, pushing your subconscious to make you take a few steps back.

"Of course there was. What, do you think I'm a liar...?" Feigning her offense, Blueberry Milk Cookie allows a pout to take place on her face.

Her eyes, which you once found beautiful, now seem unsettling with the way they peer at you. A part of you does not want to upset the young lady, just to avoid any further conflict.

"No, I believe you," you reassure. A pleased smile graces her face, and her expression returns to normal, as if her prior abnormality was never here nor there.

"Good. Well, I'll be going now. Thank you for your assistance, dearie. Ta-ta!" Blueberry Milk Cookie plants a kiss on your cheek, sending a sweet smile your way after. Her way of a thank you, your guess. Now there sneaks a tinge of guilt for finding her strange.

You would let your suspicions go, but the way the cookie progresses into the trees like it was rountine causes to increase your distrust. There is no way any shelter took place in the direction she went.

It matters not, since you doubt you'll find any additional encounters with her.

Time to continue with your journey of finding your way home. Hopefully all of the activities from today are shut out from your mind by then.

Shadow Milk Cookie cannot help but giggle, the rush of another successful trick flowing through his dough. You are just the cutest thing!

Really, you did most of the work for him. All he needed to do was take on another form, one of a elegant cookie anyone would be eager to please, and you followed him like a sheep to a shepard. Though his more average traits did slip out nearing the end, you slumped in pointing it out. Maybe you kinda dig it!

He happened to stumble upon your presence. It was an accident, truly. Shadow Milk Cookie has far more significant matters to tend to, yet would it be so bad to put you somewhere on his agenda? Your appearance is quite to his liking. He cannot just leave you be on your merry way.

You would slot in perfectly like a piece in his puzzle of a Spire! Not alongside his other assistants, though. Perhaps something more, a relationship that he doesn't take part in often.

That could only be if you behave to his standards. Yet Shadow Milk desires to label you an exception just from the lone interaction you both share. Such a charmer you are, huh?

At the moment, only one of his morphs have been revealed to you. Said form leans on the tamer side, yet that will diminish over time. Shadow Milk Cookie wants to see just how far he can push you! How joyous a new toy can be.

Stalking you from the shadows, he can catch the look of lostness in your eyes. Another humble traveler adrift in the twists and turns of Beast-Yeast. What a pity.

But fear not, as Shadow Milk Cookie will be your guide back home. Remember to express your gratitude!

Though it is not your idea of home, but his, which is none other than his lively Spire of Deceit. No need to worry, growing accustomed to the tower comes within a matter of time.

For the time being, Shadow Milk Cookie will be peeping from between the trees, awaiting the ideal moment to stage his next trick. The jester wishes for you not to spot out the anomalies, otherwise his entire act will be spoiled! A few cards of tomfoolery in his deck haven't been played yet. Play along, why don’t you?

Your back is pressed up against a tree, your legs laying flat on the grass beneath you. Walking any longer sounds like a nightmare, due to the fact that your legs grow sore from the little progress you've completed.

With the thoughts of dread being cut short, you feel an abrupt poke to your left. The unanticipated touch jolts you back to life, causing your eyes to dash up.

The being that poked you was not a cookie, but a... cream sheep? At least that goes as your guess. The names of creatures in Beast-Yeast might contrast to those in Crispia, but it is still a fluffy sheep at the end of the day.

Inspecting the surroundings, you find there to be no companions with the lone sheep. Perhaps a stray from its family, just as lost as you are.

With more proper posture, you raise your hand to pat the wooly animal. The sheep releases sounds of comfort, pressing its head further into your hand. The fleece is the closest material you've had to a pillow, which brings you more ease.

The curious creature licks your cheek, a sign of appreciation from your affection. This claims the spot of the most enjoyment you've received in Beast-Yeast. Though that gets interrupted when you notice a certain feature.

This sheep... They have quite the pair of eyes once you pay attention to them. You fail to gawk this time around, as you believe you've seen more than enough of the contrasting colors in their icing.

The chances of heterochromia in a cookie is rare enough, but in a sheep of all beings? This is no coincidence. Either it be cookies with clashing eye colors are quite common here and you are just uneducated, or you have the right to be apprehensive because there is in fact something, or someone after you.

You find yourself having little interest in being here any longer, having gained a new sense of hope to escape this maze of a place.

The cream sheep is confused when the soothing touch of your hand disappears. Looking up at you, the sheep is only met with your figure sprinting away. How rude, you forgot to say goodbye!

Shadow Milk Cookie is left behind, an appalled expression plastered onto his mammal face. He cannot believe his stunt failed to work! He is quite literally, ehem, DECEIT! How can one not be filled with flattery to be given a chance to fall for his tricks? Such individuality you have... Or it just be his eyes, which are stubborn to change with the rest of his appearance.

A rule breaker here and there always entices him. You best be able to live up to your rebel characteristics. Shadow Milk would be disappointed to see you flop like the rest. The entertainer needs to be entertained every once in a while.

With a whirl, Shadow Milk Cookie reverts into his infamous appearance, one he's more acquainted with. Devoting himself into a being as small as a cream sheep disgusts him. Although there was one thing he favored about the animal.

It's common for cookies to give a pat or more to an animal they come across, yet it still surprised him when you kept the same for him.

Touching the cotton on his false form so softly makes him feel things; things he has gone without for extended amounts of time. Since, y'know, being locked up in that tree, all alone, with no other cookie to satisfy the buried need of another's touch.

Perhaps informing you of his pity story will bring you to tears, making you coddle him within the second fake tears prickle the corner of his eyes.

Such an imagination he has. For now, he corrects. If you shared such tenderness towards a strange sheep who popped out of the shady vegetation, then you should show no hesitation in sparing some attention for him, too.

Nevertheless, the animal act has grown rather boring. As much as Shadow Milk Cookie would love to receive more of your soft petting, the show must go into its climax!

You will witness the form from times ago, the one which represented his very deceit. Lucky little cookie you are, aren'tcha? Shadow Milk Cookie has grown adjusted to the dough, so he decided it would be best for you to fall in love with his face as well.

With your current state, hungry and tired, you have little hope in outrunning your stalker. The very least you can do is make this all easier for him by jumping into his open arms.

No matter, as Shadow Milk Cookie is already on his way. Hope you're ready!

There does not appear to be much reason in running. If a beast has dedicated their time to hunt you down, then what might the point be in trying to escape? You have no powers deemed extraordinary, so the battle conclusion can be guessed without a second thought.

As if on queue, a booming sound of laughter is heard from behind you. The noise sends chills down your spine, yet you are brave enough to peek around. However, the miscreant is not seen from your eye.

"Other way, doughbrain!" Now beckoning from a new direction, the beast seems to be playing tricks with you. Just great.

You rotate to face the other way. Even so, you do not manage to see any cookie.

"I’m over here!" With a heavy breath, you spin around to survey the area. And again, nothing is seen. You give up in finding the trickster. Staring forward, the very eyes you attempt to run from stare back.

"BOO!" Shadow Milk Cookie said, adding on a scare for extra affect.

Watching you fall on your bottom, the jester laughs, a noise that becomes more haunting for you each second.

"I’m sorry, I'm sooooorry! You just make this all too easy," he admits with his head tilted, making sure to lean in to see your expression, fiiled with fright.

"Wow, now that's a face! You really are adorable." With honesty, that did not sound as teasing as the rest of his words did.

Now remembering it, the apparently kind lady from earlier appeared to be flirtatious for a second. With newly gained knowledge, that cookie is also the one trailing after you. If you are correct once more, and a beast has a tiny crush on you... You pray you awaken soon.

With how panicked your mind is, you're surprised you managed to glue some sort of pieces together. Now you can only have faith that your assumption is the truth.

If so, then perhaps you can use that to your advantage? With pride, you would hold romantic affection for a beast, as long as you would not crumble.

"I... I look adorable? Well then, um, you look absolutely stunning," you stuttered out, trying your best to come across as charming. You trust you led your prior frown into a smile, albeit a bit shaky.

Oh? Due to your words, Shadow Milk Cookie is actually taken aback, thinned lips replacing his grin. A cookie complimenting their very predator? He must have heard you wrong.

"Huh? Whawasthat?" Witches. Was your pick-up line that bad? Oh, may you be granted a peaceful crumbling.

Regardless, you refuse to back out of this, even though continuing with your coquettish behavior sounds like a death wish.

"You have... the loveliest eyes I have ever had the fortune of staring upon," you idolize. That has to sound convincing enough, right?

"Hmmmmm," Shadow Milk Cookie hums, debating why a warmth flushes his cheeks from your unexpected admiration. Along with that, he floats himself much closer, which causes you slight discomfort.

Maybe a bit more than slight, as you raise your hand and slapped him, a gasp slipping from your mouth due to your own actions. Your instinctive reactions do not discern when and when not to react.

This is it. This is the end. You will fall because of an accident from your subconscious. Or not?

Shadow Milk Cookie bursts out with laughter, his palm touching the mark you placed on his face. He's incredulous that a cookie was brave enough to lay a hand on him! His guard must be far too low with you, though he might just lower it. Your attack wasn't all that bad.

"Hit me again, I like it!" This cookie, "Blueberry Milk Cookie," is messed up in the head. Who in their right mind would ever admit that? But you fail to speak out your judgement. It's far better not to.

"I think that one mark adorns your dough just nicely," you attempted to persuade. While you decline his request, you keep up with flirtations. Things may spiral out of control if you give in to every ask of his.

"Ohoho, how interrresting!" Rolling his r, Shadow Milk Cookie gives you a good look over. It is as if you grow more and more appealing each time he gazes at you.

"Even I didn't expect such a twist in plot... You WILL be my next rising star!" Wait, is he serious? Did you actually manage to seduce a beast? He may not be sane, that much is well known, but are you?

"I'd be delighted to act in your performances," you replied, keeping your voice steady to avert suspicion. Your words act as the sole thread to your survival, and you can tell they all come to please him.

The several eyes in his bizarre hair roll back, another sign if you couldn't tell he was elated by the wide grin covering a large portion of his face.

Shadow Milk Cookie hovers over, and this time, you do not hit him, allowing his hands to cup the sides of your face.

"I, Shadow Milk Cookie, hereby declare you, [Name] Cookie, as mine!" That sentence zones you into reality, making you realize how intense the situation you've somehow managed to tumble yourself into is. Any way out as an option is long gone. Too bad.

In your peripheral vision, a portal appears out of thin air. That must act as your way of transportation. You hope sickness is not complimentary, but that gets cut short when you're lifted up inside of the whirls of black and blue.

You hear the smallest chuckle before you depart. Might it be a good omen, or bad?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: not too sure if im in love with this one (－－〆)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna  make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s”- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[lostintransist]

Noona's Dukedom Gave Me Brain Worms

@beloveds-embrace legit gave me brain worms. We aren't going to talk about how long this damn thing got. Can be read without context of the Dukedom AU but it makes more sense if you've read all the possible endings. Shout out to @strangergraphics for the cute divider. ***It got a little bit away from me... Word count: Shy of 6K AO3

Sneaking into the stable of the noble house of Price was a bad idea. He knew it. The hunger gnawing at his spine pushed him forward despite his mind’s warnings. Due to the starvation, his body was smaller than it should have been. He used that advantage to sneak between the slats in the fencing and to hide below the edge of the empty stalls.

Voices and clopping of hooves lifted over the walls. The grooms were rotating the horses in the paddock, he would have a few moments to scrounge for something to eat. He would even take the horse’s oats at this point.

Darting from the stall he scanned the walls for a full door; the horse food would most likely be up to keep away the rodents. His hand nearly touched the handle when a swish of skirts had him unlatching a stall with a large black horse and hiding. The horse did not care for his presence and began to flick its ears and swish their tail.

The swishing of skirts continued, nearer and nearer to the stall with the upset horse. It stopped and he ducked further down, holding the door shut but not letting it latch for fear that the sound would travel. Three loud breaths in his ears and the horse pawing at the straw were all the sounds that he could hear.

“Child, I need you to come out of there. Now.”

The voice held the commands with familiarity. Shutting his eyes tight the boy wished that God listened to orphans. He did not complete another breath before he was hauled out by the collar of his shirt. The damn thing ripped as the woman slammed the door closed to the angry sounds of a horse.

“Ma’am!” A groom, dressed in nicer clothes than should ever be used to care for horses, came running in. He skidded to a halt at the sight of the boy. “Do you need me to take care of him, my Lady?”

Hells beyond, of course, he had been found by the lady of the house. The devil must want his soul something fierce.

“No. Thank you, Benjamin.” You must dismiss him with a nod for the groom eyes him warily before heading back outside.

Chancing a glance upward he saw a lovely dress, must be the height of fashion because none of it made sense to him, and a sad face.

“What is your name child?” You ask him kindly, despite the hand still gripping the ripped portion of his shirt.

He thought about running, leaving his shirt behind in your hand.

You let out a small hiss of reprimand and the thought is abandoned.

“David, ma’am.”

Even in those two words, he knew his low-brow accent could be heard.

“And what are you doing in the stables and with my husband’s horse, David?”

He thinks about lying. You must see it in his face for the small bit of tension in your shoulders falls away, as does your hand.

“Come with me, David. And before you tell me the lie on your tongue, make up a story. Tell me the most unrealistic reason of how you came here, and then we can discuss the truth.” You gesture to the bright light beyond the stable and begin to walk.

You make it several steps before you turn around and lift a brow at him. Trained by society to listen to his betters David scurries after you.

He tells you a tale, of how fae had stolen him away from his family and left him for dead in the woods because he never seemed to grow. He spun the story so neatly that he nearly missed that they entered the side door of the grand manor on the property. A maid passed in front of you, long strides taking her down the hall.

“Mary,” you state her name, waiting for her to pause with a quiet, ‘yes ma’am’ before you continue. “Please send a tray of bread and cheese to my room. Also, have someone open the old trunks in the nursery to see if there are any clothes that would fit this child.”

Mary’s eyes flick to him and back to the lady, the confusion only thinly masked.

“And if his Lordship asks?”

David knew this wasn’t usual; his last posting would have called that cheek and seen him dismissed. You handle it with almost an ease of familiarity.

“Then send his Lordship to my room.” You settle a hand on his shoulder, directing him to the stairs, “Come, David.”

He moves where you direct, curious and cautious in equal measure. He had no training for how to act when the lady of the house pulls him into her sitting room and directed him to sit on a wooden chair near a writing desk. You disappear into what David assumes to be your bedroom for a moment.

Taking a moment to observe the room he notices a stack of books next to a comfortable chair with a blanket draped over the back of it. There is dust in the corners of the room and along the windowsill. Your maids were terrible at their jobs.

His mother had been a maid before she had been forced to put him in the orphanage due to illness and probably dying from consumption. She would be ashamed to claim this room as clean. For a duchess no less? Disgraceful. David could feel his brows pull down in a glare as he looked more. No stack of wood near the hearth, and a large collection of ash in the grate spoke of negligence.

When you return you are carrying a pitcher of water, a bowl, and a rag. Setting all of them on the floor you settle yourself down next to them. David had never seen a lady deign to sit on the floor before.

Pouring some water into the bowl, you wet the rag and wring it out before gently lifting it to his face.

“Where are your parents, child?” You ask in kindness, he flinches anyway.

He was a bastard of an earl and a maid who could not refuse. A knowing enters your eyes at the set of his chin.

“They do not care for you here.” His tone is serious.

It is your turn to flinch. It does not stop you from wiping the dirt from his face.

“What makes you say that?” You ask in a quiet voice, eyes not straying from your task.

“The maid was cheeky, and the state of your sitting room. Any maid worth her salt would not let dust collect like this.” He is still scowling as you rinse your rag and begin on one eye.

“Mmm, the staff were chosen by my husband before marriage. He is…resistant to change,” you hedge.

David does not reply other than to watch you in silence. Something here did not feel right. He would know, he had served in a great house once before. The lady of that house had been a mean and hateful woman, nothing like what you had presented yourself as. No one in the gentry would have saved him from a horse or brought him into their space to dress and feed him. He decided he would stay, ask for a position, and see if you were as good as this first impression.

A light knock at the door did not prevent you from finishing your task.

“Enter,” you called as you started on his hands.

“Found these in the nursery ma’am, a few moth holes but they will serve for now.” Mary, the cheeky maid from earlier glared at you as she settled the clothes across the settee. The tray of bread and cheese rested on the cushion next to the clothes.

David glared at her over your head. Mary jerked back when she saw his black look. She returned a sneer and breezed from the room as easy as you please. Acted like she owned the damn place.

“You need new maids,” David near as growled as his child’s voice would allow. Confusion washed over him like sacrament water at your soft smile, both hands holding his.

“Let’s get you in some clean clothes and get some food in your belly. I can hear it from here,” rising from your position on the floor you settle the water on a side table and join him near the settee.

David fingers the fabric. It is finer than anything he has ever worn, even with the moth holes. Glancing up you are looking at him with expectation. He had not grown much since the orphanage at eight but he knew that changing in front of you would not be wise. In response to the single brow you lifted, he held up the clothes in answer.

“Use the antechamber,” you point to the same door you had used to bring back the water.

Soon enough David is changed into new clothes and is seated on the settee stuffing his face with bread and cheese in alternating bites. Sleep overtook him with the strength of an executioner. When he stirred next he could feel your fingers parting his hair. The deep voice came again, that is what had woken him.

“Are you sure this is what you are willing to bargain for, wife?”

“John, as I am your wife in name only, I am asking for a compromise. Let me take the child as a ward and I will delay choosing a lover until he is grown and managing his own affairs.”

You present the option as if it makes sense and is the only logical choice. David slits his eyes open, taking in the pattern of your dress up close.

“I am not allowed,” David heard the fury in your words, he wondered if the duke did. “To take a lover for fear that he will feed the roses. But none of you would stoop so low as to murder a child. Heaven forbid I get to feel a modicum of love in my own home.”

“You tread a dangerous line, wife.”

Shifting fabric from behind his head has David tensing to leap up and defend you from a blow. Your fingers dig into his hair enough to give a warning, ‘Stay still.’

“No more dangerous than your lovers do, husband.”

The silence is laced with danger, it wrings his neck as if he were the queen. Your fingers tighten almost painfully on his skull. David breathes, slow and steady, matching the lie of your calming breaths.

“Are you threate—”

“I am again repeating my offer. I care for the boy as my ward; in return, I delay taking a lover so you may continue to enjoy your three without worrying about my behavior.”

David thinks not even the queen could keep her composure in this situation. You maneuvered your husband magnificently.

“You would have been a good general wife,” the Duke replies coolly.

“How fortunate for me then women are property and not people,” you reply with equal chill.

He grew, and grew, and grew. Regular meals and exercise saw David immediately falling into several growth spurts. He only wore short pants for three months before you had a tailor taking in some of your husband’s older and discarded clothes. He still wonders how much you paid the valet to sneak them out of John’s room.

David had taken to calling everyone by their first names. John and Simon were not ‘my lord’ or any other superfluous title they did not deserve, for they did not treat you as a gentleman should. Dinners were stilted in silence. You sat at one end of the great table, David seated next to you; eight chairs separated the pair of men at the end from your bright smile. They never attempted to usurp convention and sit closer, or invite either of you to move up and forgo the distance.

Your days were split between bringing David’s reading and math skills up to speed as you secured a teacher for him. Or rather David flourished under your tutelage until several teachers arrived to teach him math, French, history, Latin, and even science.

The house never suffered under the reduction in your attention. That did not stop the head butler from calling attention to the delay in requests being fulfilled.

Mr. Kyle Garrick could be no older than you. While twenty-four appeared ancient to his twelve the head butler being no more than thirty. He had never heard of such a thing below stairs, and the servants would have gossiped about it.

Kyle stood now in your office, eyes trained above your head as he spoke to you. David watched from his place at a side table; chalk pinched between his fingers and letters abandoned.

“The staff have reported that the expected deliveries have been delayed,” he clasped his hands behind his back, still not looking at you.

“Are the staff in need of an item urgently?” You look up from your correspondence. While John might manage the land, you managed the people and the tenants and the local clergy and did so without ruffling any feathers. David had to say you worked harder than your husband.

Kyle’s nose scrunched as if the question were one he would rather not answer.

“No. Not as of yet ma’am”

“And have you confirmed that the deliveries will arrive before the matter becomes urgent?” You arch a brow at your head butler.

The angry shift of his jaw tells David you are a master at stepping through this house without any of the blood you let fall onto your skirts.

“Yes,” comes the terse reply.

“Then is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Garrick?” Your face is innocent and open as Kyle’s eyes flick to you.

“No, ma’am. Thank you,” Kyle turns sharply on a heel, every line of his suit pressed to perfection.

Both you and David watch Kyle as he pauses at the door. Without turning he broaches the subject.

“Ma’am the staff have all been wondering…about the boy.”

David glances to Kyle’s hand on the doorknob. His arm shakes with the force with which he is holding it.

“David is my ward. He is confirmed as such in my will and by John’s own solicitor. If any of the staff take issue with the decision they can be dismissed immediately with a letter of recommendation and their wages due,” you reply, the chill in your tone removing all heat from your office.

The words land like arrows in Kyle’s back from the way his spine straightens.

“Yes ma’am, thank you,” he flings open the door and is gone with only a soft click of the shutting door to mark his departure.

Kyle was added to his list of people in this place who were not safe, right next to John and Simon. The head chef joined that list on the selfsame day.

Nipping down into the kitchens for a bite to eat, for feeding his hungry body only seemed to fuel more hunger, David listened to Johnny rant and rave about the lady of the house and her ‘particular tastes’ and her unwillingness to eat any meat presented to her. Something in his tone hinted that his anger grew from something deeper than a delicate palette. David did not raid the kitchen when any staff might be present from now on.

Observation was a tool that kept David safe on the streets after he had escaped the orphanage. Between his teachers and his daily meals with you, David witnessed a deepening sadness he could only attribute to your husband and his lovers.

Each night you tucked him into bed in the room next to yours. Reciting the Lord’s Prayer, reading a chapter of whatever book he had been reading, and laying a kiss on his brow were the standard. One night you laid an especially long kiss on his brow.

“I think I would have taken to my bed and never left if you had not arrived when you did David. Thank you for allowing me to save myself for you,” were the whispered words against his forehead.

Having no words for the overwhelming feelings in his chest David sat upright and hugged you tight.

“You’re the best mother I could have asked for,” came his own whispered reply.

Neither of you commented on the tears in the others eyes.

Nearly a year passed in that building others called home and he thought of it as a shared prison. At thirteen he had put on nearly a stone in weight and could hold his own academically with any boy his age who had been nurtured from the womb to stand among the peerage.

A letter from your desk, and a preemptive payment, secured him a spot at Eton in London. The household held its breath as you directed both your items and David’s to be packed for the move. John preferred the country estate but kept a home in the city for when Parliament was in session. David had missed the frigid argument that must have ensued before you were allowed to leave.

The years at Eton were grueling. Being a no-name ward to the Lady Price did not buy him the safety he would have received at being an acknowledged earl’s son. He often returned to the home he shared with you each weekend littered with bruises and with a sour mood.

It only took three weekends for you to call on your friends with children at Eton to run interference and to hire a pugilist to teach David how to handle the rest. Things didn’t get easier for nearly a year.

Returning as a fourteen-year-old with a bit more weight on his bones David channeled the attitudes he had seen both John and Simon wield to great effect and used his fists to even greater effect. His attitude and willingness to scrabble with even the boys who could be called men made the rounds. He walked away from every fight. Limping and spitting blood still counted as walking away.

Only once did David pull the attitude of the duke out with you.

“I will not be attending the picnic this weekend.”

David looked down his nose at you where you sat reading a Jane Austin novel. He stood, to give himself the illusion of height. He didn’t really mind either way about the picnic but he wanted to test his powers against you. When he looked back on the moment as a fully grown man he could see that he wanted to be sure that you could, would, still love him and keep him in hand as he grew. He wanted to know if you would protect him, even from himself.

A single finger slipped between the pages, turning it.

“David, if I do not let my husband speak to me so, why would I let you?”

The lack of emotion in your question sent sparks of fear up his spine, akin to the fireworks he had seen last year.

He remained silent and unsure how to reign in the wild horse of his mistake.

Closing your book softly you lift your eyes up to him. A wall of neutrality sat in your eyes that he hadn’t seen since leaving the country estate. Patting the seat next to you twice you waited until David sat to prune his behavior.

“Command is something given, not taken. If you wish to be a leader among men they first will need to want to follow you.” Only the sounds of carriages on the cobblestone outside the window break the silence. “My husband commands because of his birthright. I command because I have been trusted to do so. All of the charitable works I accomplish while you are in school, the lives I change, the directives I lead? These have all been trusted to me because I have proven I will not abuse them.”

David swallowed hard, lip starting to quiver.

“I’m sorry, mum,” his voice is small, a dandelion of admitting he had been wrong.

You reach up behind him, and despite the years between then and now being filled with nothing but love and gentle guidance, he still flinched. The hand on his head pulled him to your breast, soothing him as he cried.

“Trust I will care for you. Trust that I love you, David. If you have concerns we can discuss them, but no one deserves high-handedness unless they have proved themselves worthy of its censure.”

College had been his goal, the plan he would dare say. That plan flew out the window when John called David to his London office and handed him a letter.

“I have need of my wife, and our bargain has come to a conclusion. This is your commission. You will be serving under Admiral Wishart. He is expecting you on the third. The Royal William sets sail on the fifth,” John said all this with a wild gleam in his eye.

David snatched the letter from John’s hand, scanning over every word. His stomach sank further with each line he reread.

John Price had purchased a commission for him. As no law stood in the way of paying for a commission for any man, David had been promised to the crown as a soldier against his will.

Straightening to his full height David took three deep breaths to prepare his thoughts.

“She will not forgive you for this.”

“Maybe,” John shrugged, “But a woman of her age yearns for a child and with you gone, I can provide her with one.”

Civility fled with the thought of this man, so long abandoning his wife, touching her in any way filled David with nothing but rage.

“You would have better luck stealing the king’s trousers from his still awake body than bedding your wife. Good day, sir,” he infused the word sir with every ounce of hate he held for the man.

David had searched you out after leaving John’s office. Eighteen had once felt so grown, but now he knew he could be nothing more than a child masquerading as an adult. He had found you having tea with the neighbor. Pacing the front hall his hands worrying at his cuffs David swallowed hard to force the acid back into his stomach. The butler, this one old like every other butler was, announced him.

Rodgers opened the door wide for David to pass through. Instead, he caught your eye, the tears in his own clear even from the distance. Rising without removing your eyes from him you took your leave. Sliding your hand into the crook of his arm you nod for Rodgers to open the front door.

The door is not fully shut when David whips out the commission letter for you and tears streak down his face. Reading the letter three times all color leeches from your face.

“He didn’t,” you whisper, aghast.

“Mum, I’m scared,” David hugs himself, trying to keep the pieces of himself from flying in every direction. “He said you yearned for a child, and he could give you one with me gone.”

The pallor of your panic disappears until all that is left is a Duchess. You take his hand, squeezing it tight.

“You have all the skills to get through this. Wishart is a solid man to serve under and despite all his faults, John did purchase you a commission which will keep you safer than if you had volunteered. Now come and lay down in my bed and let me read to you.”

David laughed out a sob. You had not read to him like this since he went to Eton. The offer is all the sweeter because soon he won’t have a chance. Holding your hand up all the stairs he settles into your bed, arms wrapped around your middle. The soothing effect of your voice lulls him into sleep.

When he wakes he is alone in your bed and a soft sobbing drifts from the closet. He never doubted your love for him, but to hear you weep for him nailed it to the center of his soul.

He would survive the war.

Better yet he would come back decorated and rich beyond measure.

Six years passed before David could settle his feet on soil and not track his eyes around the port waiting for the bell to drag him back. He had clawed his way through the ranks; he saved so many men that when he had received his own ship as a captain he had nearly a full crew from volunteers alone. He had been made one of the youngest captains in the Navy.

Your last letter had reached him four years ago. He doubted any of his had reached you, spread out along the coasts as they were.

He and his men had eight weeks of leave while their ship was dry-docked and fixed. The first thought that crossed his might was to find you, Duchess Price, his mum.

The lamp lighters were working their way down the street as he approached the last non-floating home he had. Music drifted to the street from the open windows. Laughter and a cacophony of voices told him that a party was in full swing. Bounding up the stairs David knocked twice, loudly.

Hawthorne, the man who had served as butler when he left for the sea opened the door with an imperious look.

“Yes?” He lifted a brow.

“Hawthorne is that any way to greet the prodigal son?” David grinned and lifted both brows.

All servant’s decorum fled when Hawthorne realized who stood on the stoop.

“Master David? We all thought you dead.”

Stepping into the door David pushes it open forcing Hawthorne to let him in.

“Is the duchess in my good man?” He pats the butler on the shoulder.

“She is entertaining, bu—”

David does not wait to hear what other words might have followed. His long strides ate up the distance to the sitting room. And there you were, dressed in starlight. A healthy look on your face and a gentle smile at your current conversation companion ease the tightness in his chest that had lingered since you waved him off at the docks all those years ago.

The woman you are speaking with glances at him as he moves closer. Turning you follow her gaze. Your brows pull together as you look him over.

He had been so familiar with your thoughts when he left he can see them now. ‘This is not a guest I invited. Could he be my husband’s invite? Why does he look familiar?’ And there it is, the recognition.

“David?!”

No sign of a woman trained in moderation here, only a mum welcoming her son back from the dead. He catches you as you fling yourself into his arms. David spins you twice before settling you back on your feet.

“‘‘ello mum,” he whispered down to you.

Blinking away the tears you remember all of your guests. Turning you address the room.

“My friends, let me reintroduce you to my ward, David. He has been serving in the Royal Navy and has just returned to us,” your hand settles on his arm, fingers digging into the muscle below his sleeve.

Nodding to the room David settled his other hand on yours. That is when he shifts his head enough to find Simon and John standing together, staring daggers at him. He gifts them with a saccharine grin. They scowl all the harder.

The instant you let go of his arm they bully David into the hall and further into the study.

“When I sent you to war I did not expect you to return a captain,” John flicked at the brass on David’s chest.

“I didn’t expect you to still be holding tighter to your lover than your wife,” David eyed Simon before dropping his eyes back to John. “She never did forgive you, did she?”

David had gotten taller than he realized. Simon had towered over him as a child, now he looked down to make eye contact with the man.

“We’ll make this fast. Are you the duchess’ paramore?”

Recoiling as if he had been shot, David stared at the two men agog.

“This is the longest I have been on land since I left to fulfill my commission and you are asking if I am bedding the woman who I view as a mother?” Disgust dripped off every word. “What in the nine hells led you to that conclusion?”

John and Simon share a look.

“There is a report that the duchess took a lover. A man of large stature who has not been seen in polite society before,” John explains, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Smirking, David can’t help the rush of pride that fills his chest. You were still holding your own.

“Must burn you up inside, both of you, that she continues to hold you at bay,” David gloated.

“And how would you know that so recently returned to land?” Simon snapped at him.

“It’s clear from this conversation.” David gestures between them, “You waited too long to offer her love and she found the idea of your bitter fruit repugnant, didn’t she?”

The sour look on their faces had David folding in half laughing.

“And now she has taken a lover and you mistook me for her paramore,” David clutched at his stomach as the laughter continued. “Ah, this is such a better reunion than I had hoped for.”

“This is not a laughing matter, boy,” John chastised him.

Standing tall David wiped the tears that had leaked from his eyes.

“On the contrary I find this to be the funniest thing I have heard in nearly a year. When the duchess brought me into your home as a child she did so to fill the void you left her with. Had you loved her, any of you or your lovers, she would not have taken me in to fill that hole. But more’s the loss for you. Now when you can finally see the gem you threw away, I hope it burns.”

David threw open the door of the study. He left behind him two men who would forever regret not seeing the gem in their midst. Rejoining you in the party he answered your questioning look with a smile and a shake of his head.

When at last all the guests are tucked into their carriages and heading for home you pull David into your sitting room and lock the door. It is here you are able to take his face between your hands and study him like a vicar does the bible. Seated on the settee, he lets you examine him and ensure for yourself that he is well.

“You scared me, David. I thought you were dead. No one could confirm if you were alive or dead for so long I went into mourning for you.”

The thought of you wearing black for him tugged at his heart.

“We were pulled into a series of secret missions, our still being alive was not reported anywhere. I doubt even your husband would have been able to find the information on us if he had asked,” David bumped your forehead with his own.

Letting his face go with a laugh he can finally appreciate the fact you are more beautiful than when he took to the sea. It’s no wonder there are rumors of you taking a lover.

“Is it true you have taken a paramore?” David leans back into the seat.

His eyes go wide as you squirm slightly. He sits straight again and stares at you as you grab a shawl left within reach.

“Mum?”

“It is not that simple, David,” you hedge.

“I am a smart man, you made sure of that. Now tell me, please,” he took one of your hands between his.

Heaving a great sigh you look at the man your son had become.

“After John signed you away to death I nearly perished. My heart had been broken and I knew deep in my soul you would not return to me.” Curling your fingers around his you look at them as you continue, “The crown asked that I help host a collection of the Austrian aristocracy. The task gave me something to focus on. It was no more than something to fill my time until the fourth set of visitors. I meet one Lukas König, a lord.”

Your words peter out as your shifting and squirming increase.

“Go on,” David encourages.

“It did not begin as it has progressed. He makes me laugh and listens and values my opinion,” you speak as if pleading your case before a judge.

You look up at him, searching for something. He must not provide the answer you are looking for because you tuck your chin to your chest again.

“Mum,” David frees one hand to lift your chin to see your tear-stained eyes, “What do you need from me to be free of this prison? A divorce? I know men close to the Archbishop and am willing to call in all my favors to see you happy.”

Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, so different from the ones earlier squeezed from his eyes by laughter.

“You would do that for me?” The breaks in your voice hurt him deeply.

“For the woman that saved me time and again? For you who became my mother when you did not need to? I would do anything for you, including delivering you to Austria myself.”

“David, my son, I think I will take you up on that offer.”

Before he heads back to the sea, David will see you to the arms of a man who loves you. He will know you are safe and when he returns to you he expects to have at least one sibling. He keeps that thought tucked behind his smile.

Masterlist

[if-loves]

lovesick

// Yandere Mydei

sum: days blend into each other, and all your emotions find themselves blending into numbness. on a day like any other, you find yourself in sudden understanding of your captor.

wc: 878

warnings: 3.0 story quest spoilers, amphoreus inaccuracies, ooc mydei, written before mydei release

a/n: mydei hmm… maybe i'll do a yan phainon & mydei triangle

likes & reblogs appreciated :)

You often find yourself alone these days, watching the outside world from the sliver of an opening through the curtains, the metal bars reminding you of your inescapable circumstances.

Your captor leaves often, and the times he entertains your conversations are far and few between. He prefers it far more when you let him have his way with you. You find that it is easier to welcome his advances, for both you and him.

How long has it been since you've felt the natural light hit your skin? How long has it been since you've heard of a voice other than his, other than you? To you, time has lost its meaning and significance. When the sun never sets, when the days hardly change, is that not just a loop of the same few days over and over again?

Sat on the bed you have no choice but to share with him, you're keenly aware of the still air and silence that permeates every inch of your prison. You've done all the duties he's assigned, accompanied by an empty mind and a tiredness that never seems to go away no matter how much you fall into the temptation of sleep.

There’s a numbness in your heart that you're sure will never disappear, even if you were to be set free in this very second. That bloodthirsty prince has, with all his violence and madness, tore open your heart and taken its remains as his trophy. Even if the organ beats in your chest, you know life has long left it.

The sound of the door opening breaks the still air. Instantly, you stand from the bed and like clockwork, you make your way to the door. There he stands, bathed in a glow unbefitting of him. New wounds litter his body, blood splattered across his body, and a particular look in his eyes. You don't know how long he's been gone, and you don't dare ask. You should just be thankful he's back.

“Welcome ba-”

“None of that today.” His rough voice cuts you off quickly, the door slamming behind him. He's quick to make his way to the kitchen, and you're even quicker to follow him. He stares at the cabinets as if trying to remember the place of something, and you find yourself opening the one with medicines like an old habit. You can tell he's watching you from the corner of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you start cleaning the blood from his body. Like a long established routine, the both of you exist in silence, as if comforted by the existence of each other, an idea that would've caused you serious illness when you were just newly taken but now makes you feel some sense of relief.

He doesn't flinch or make a sound even when you press onto his wounds with more force than necessary, and so you continue. If he doesn't mind it, then you shouldn't either. Maybe if you were in a resentful state of mind, you might’ve dared to take after him and be more aggressive. Unfortunately, you've long lost the desire to fight.

When you finish taking care of him, you put away the bandages and cloths and prepare yourself for another of the same day. However, before you could take another step, you find yourself pulled into his embrace, the steel of his armour sending shivers down your spine. He breathes in, and out. In, and out.

“Promise me you'll never leave.” His voice, uncharacteristically soft and desperate, makes you freeze up in a way you haven't in a very long time. His grip is suffocating, caging you to him like the being in the locked jaws of a beast. “Promise me.”

“...I promise, my lord.” You murmur by his ear, in hopes of subduing this bout of what must be reality hitting him.

“Call me by my name.”

The longer your silence continues, the tighter his hold gets. However, if there is only one request of his you cannot fulfil, it is his name. Long have you sworn to yourself that you would refuse him the pleasure of his name said in your voice, and you’re sure he knows, just like he knows everything about you.

Perhaps realising that this request would sooner have you gasping for air, he lets you go completely.

“Go back to bed.” He commands, once again staring at the cabinet with a hardened gaze. You're quick to follow his order, the familiar feeling of fear creeping its way into your body. However, you find yourself hesitating at the door.

“Are you sick, my lord?” The question leaves your lips before you fully realise the weight of your words. Just as you open your mouth to apologise, the sound of laughter rings throughout the home.

“Sick, huh?” Mydei chuckles to himself, looking up to the ceiling. “Yes. I suppose so. Not that it's something that can ever be cured, anyway.”

You tuck yourself into the bed and turn away from the window, staring at his side of the bed for a few seconds before closing your eyes. Before you fall once more to the sweetness of an empty dream, a voice whispers in your ear, and all of a sudden you understand what he means.

[luvdazqi]

☆ ( hate fucking⠀ ) — 🌸

featuring: rival!chuuya x pm executive!reader

warnings: female reader, afab, cervix fucking, cursing, name calling, degrading, edging, creampie, hair pulling, spanking, fingering, rough sex, no protection, mentions of the word 'p' and 'd', kinda filthy(?).

notes: this lowkey took me a few days to write cuz i barely had any ideas.. but i hope you enjoy!

at any chance you'd get, you'll always find a way to make chuuya's day go even worse. despite the two of you both being powerful executives in the port mafia, needless to say that you and chuuya hated each other. you two would always bicker like children and were always at each others throats. but you'd have to admit that seeing chuuya angry over the smallest things was quite amusing for you. you'd always pull small little pranks on him just to annoy the shit out of him, and he'd always know it was your doing, because no one else would have the courage to piss of chuuya after all.

no one else dared to step into you and chuuya's bickering, they'd all sit idly and watch. but beside all that hatred, there was always some type of tension between the both of you, even if one of the two would never admit to it.

"fuckin' hell.." chuuya muttered in irritation, slamming his fist on his desk. his eyes flashed with a hint of anger as he was a victim of your silly pranks yet again. you had been bothering him all day and you decided it would be funny to slip some type of aphrodisiac into his wine, and now his body was feeling all hot and bothered thanks to you. "bring her to my office." chuuya gestured to one of his subordinates to bring you to him, oh he wasn't definitely not gonna let you slide this time like he always did.

once you finally got to his office, leaving the two of you alone in the room, it practically filled with tension, so thick that you could cut through it with a knife. chuuya practically pounced onto you when you arrived, a visible flush on his cheeks and his pants already tight with a visible erection, looks like the aphrodisiac worked after all.

"you think you're so fuckin' funny aren't ya?" chuuya snarled, his gloved hand wrapped around your neck, though not applying pressure. "you've been buggin' me all day, it's like you were begging for my attention." his heated gaze was piercing into you at this point, his breathing becoming ragged. "you wanted my attention right? now you've fuckin' got it."

sitting on his desk, your legs spread apart just enough for chuuya to look down at your wet and puffy cunt. his gloves were discarded, not wanting to ruin his good pair with your wetness. "look at you, all wet and i've barely done anything. you're practically dripping on my fingers, ya fuckin' whore. i knew this is what you wanted all along." chuuya scoffed, curling his digits inside you. he listened to the way you whimpered and shuddered, which only made his lips curl into a cocky smirk.

just as you were about to cum, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, making you whine. but he didn't care, he licked his fingers clean and scoffed down at your drunk aroused state. "a slut like you doesn't get to cum yet." his voice was almost raspy before reaching to the waistline of his dress pants, unbuttoning and pulling them down alongside with his boxers. his cock was painfully hard from all the aphrodisiac in his wine earlier, the tip already visible with precum.

"maybe if you beg i might just let ya' cum on my cock." he says in a mocking tone before moving you to bending over his desk, his hand landing on the curve of your ass with a loud slap that left a painful red hand print. "you're gonna take every inch of me, got it?" he says, using the angry flushed head of his dick to rub against your entrance, mixing his pre-cum with your wetness before pushing himself inside you. a rumble emanates from his throat as he felt your tightness wrap around him so perfectly, grasping your hips and holding you in place. "holy fuck.. mmff- gonna stretch this pussy of yours real good." he pants, another slap on your flesh as he delves himself deep into you from behind.

the sounds of skin slapping against skin, along with his groans and your moans filled his office. you couldn't even comprehend words as your mind goes blank, your eyes hazy as chuuya keeps pounding his dick into you that hit your cervix over and over again, almost like if he was putting all his hatred for you with every thrust. "fuckin' whore.. ngh-! this is all it took for ya' to keep your fuckin' mouth shut, huh? always- mmhh- making me loose my fuckin' mind.." he moans, a harsh slap on your ass once again, which basically was already red with his hand prints.

he felt your gummy walls clench around him, your vision blurring with pleasure, "fuck- you gonna cum? i don't think so, you don't fuckin' deserve it yet you filthy slut." he chuckles, gripping onto your hips before stopping his thrusts and pulling out just as you were about to cum, making you whine and call him as asshole, but he didn't care. it only fueled him to keep going, watching you intently as a smirk tugging at his lips. waiting for a while, he slams back into you again. your body quivering beneath him, hitting into your cervix once again with each harsh thrust.

he kept his brutal pace until he felt his orgasm approach, with one final wet smack, chuuya groans as his fingers tighten around your hips holding you in place as his cock pulses with each load of cum painting your insides. keeping himself there for a moment, to compose himself before slowly pulling out his cock with a lewd squelch, looking down at your stretched pussy leaking his with cum. "fuck, look at you.. dripping with my cum like the dirty slut you are."

but he barely gave you enough time to register your thoughts before he drives his hips into your sensitive hole all over again, hitting that delicious spot inside you as he made sure all of his cum stays inside you. keeping a fast, deep rhythm inside you "mmhh- you like having my dick inside ya'.. huh? gonna make sure this pussy of yours stays filled with my cum for the rest of the day. ngh- maybe that'll put ya' in your fuckin' place, whore."

taglist: @moomuzan @iwuvnami @ellie-corner14 @nonexistence1199 @lurulu-ru @causenessus @vasarii @broken-spirit101

© luvdazqi on tumblr ; do not copy, plagiarize or translate any of my works.

[kawhh]

I'm aware I'm gonna lose people with this but I really do need to get the thought out of my head (I'm being delusional and this'll make it worse). It's just Jack and blood does something to me. Something magical. Also for the dark!Jack askers.

1.7k words.

Warnings!!!: if you're squeamish, please don't read this. I mean it. There's a lot of blood talk. Him covering you in it. Biting. Me going insane. Being a whore on main. Somnophilia. Jack being feral. If the idea of period sex makes you go ew, this'll make you worse. Him not caring if you don't want him marking you.

You've been worried about him since he got hit - knowing how bad some high stick injuries can be. Stressing until he was shown on the bench, barely calming down seeing all the blood still covering his face. How casual he is about it, not being phased at all, making no effort to wipe it off.

How aggressively he's playing after it, there's more aggression in him when he takes face offs. There's more push behind his skates up and down the ice. More concentration on his bloodied face.

If you're being honest, the whole thing is incredibly hot. Even though there's an underlying beat of concern. You don't like seeing him hurt.

It's late at night, so you're cuddled up on the couch in one of his shirts. Always feels like he's home with you when you're bundled up in his scent.

It's too much for him when he gets home. It's like someone's sucked all the air out of the room. His knuckles white as snow from his grip on the door frame. He doesn't dare move. Feeling like he's one step away from losing any and all sanity that he has left.

His girl.. all perfect.

His shirt on you.. how small you look in it. It's physically stunned him.

He can feel the blood on his face still. He was in too much of a rush to get home to you, he wouldn't take the time to wipe it off. He wasn't wasting time showering. Not when he knows you're all alone at home. He's not phased by it, just slowly dragging his tongue over his lip to prevent it from getting out of control.

He's no stranger to blood in his mouth. Injuries are common and he can't just stop whenever it happens.

He figures you're asleep. Who knows how long he's just been stuck there, trying to piece together the non feral part of his brain. You haven't made any noise, haven't reacted to him coming home.

He's free to just.. observe.

He's salivating over your legs. They look so pure and untouched, unmarked, oh so long looking under the shirt. Fuck.. he doesn't know what he wants first.

He could have them wrapped around his waist, have you scratching your own marks into his back as he fucks you into the wall. Wanting to see the pathetically adorable tears streak down your face until you get noise complaints.

Have you bouncing on his dick, slamming you down to force you to go at his pace, forcing you back down to meet his savage thrusts even if you try and crawl off to escape.

Wrapping them around his head, forcing them tighter against his head, wanting to suffocate against your cunt. Feeling you cry and squirm against him, trying to escape his tongue.

How pretty he'd paint you with the blood that's still leaking from his mouth. What a perfect way to make a point.. show you how much you truly belong to him. It'd stand out so vividly against your skin.. against your cute little cunt.

It's enough to take the final sanity percentage from him. He can't stay here watching you from afar now. He's gone too deep. The chances of him walking by you to shower before coming back.. non existent.

He's like a possessed animal stalking towards you, hair loose, half covering his face. His expression dark, his eyes barely visible. His pupils fully dilated.

If he doesn't get his mouth on you and in you, he thinks he might lose it. He can't even wait for you to stir. He doesn't have the restraint. Doesn't fucking want the restraint.

He's hovering over you before he can even process it, grabbing your legs as gently as he physically can in his state, making room for himself to kneel between them on the couch. Leaning over to hover over your face, staring at how innocent you look under him.

His baby must've stayed up late worrying yourself to sleep, he knows how you get.

His fingers not being able to resist digging into your shoulders, staring at the way that your body doesn't resist him. The slight bruises he leaves, painting you. The way you almost lean into his touch in your sleep, seemingly seconds away from mewling like a cat.

He can't resist pulling your shirt up. He can't get it fully off without waking you up, but he inches it towards your neck as gently as he can. Restraining you slightly as it reaches armpit height.

He's slightly startled as he hears a small sound, like a droplet. Looking down, realizing that some of the blood from his mouth is smack bang in the middle of your exposed chest now. Trailing it with his eyes as it slides down your cleavage, under your bra, leaving a skin stain as it goes.

He can't stop the gulp, processing how it feels to see him on you, in such a different way..

There's nothing more him than his blood. It's so striking against your skin. He can't explain the sudden urge he has to follow it with his tongue. To cover you in him.

He makes a fatal mistake, resting his head against your shoulder. His attempt to control himself only makes the problem worse as he lifts his head, realizing that you're now covered in his blood, your whole left shoulder looks like a murder scene.

He can't resist licking your skin. Just once. Tasting your skin combined with him. He's never felt this possessive before, never felt more sure in the fact that you're his.

Sinking his teeth gently into the skin, just enough to leave a mark. He doesn't fully know what's wrong with him. This need to just.. mark you up. To mark up every single inch of your skin. You're such a little fucking cute bunny rabbit. So adorably small against him. So weak. So fragile. So his.

He can't stop at just your shoulder. He's inching down, nipping and sucking at your skin, occasionally licking at the blood if it pools too much. Making his way down to your chest, watching the droplets drip down your tits, following the perfect curve, seeping into your bra.

He can't resist running his tongue down your cleavage. Slowly folding the cups over enough to get his hot, wet mouth around your nipple. Biting harshly, eyes flicking up to you as your squirm in your sleep. He wonders if you're dreaming about it. If you can feel his body. If you're mentally aware of how deranged he's feeling tonight.

Squirming more as he reaches your stomach. He half entertains spelling his name on your stomach but he truly doesn't have the patience. He's biting his lip more as he goes, trying to agitate it, getting frustrated that the blood's drying up. He doesn't care if it hurts, how much it stings with every single movement. He'll take care of it later. It's not important.

It does rush him slightly. He can't risk running out of it before he gets to his meal. Skipping mostly past your stomach, dragging his parted mouth down until he reaches his meal. Resting his mouth against your cute underwear. Smirking as he realizes there's adorable little teddies on them. Slowly staining them with blood as he keeps his head still, resting his mouth above your clit. The contrast of the blood and your visible innocence, he could moan.

He's just resting there, breathing you in. He can smell you. Feel the heat coming from your adorable pussy. He can't resist gently biting, mostly gripping your underwear in his teeth, letting it smack back against your clit, hearing you let out the littlest moan. He doesn't care to check if you're waking up now. It's not like he'll stop, even if you do wake up and protest. There's nothing you can do about it.

Nuzzling his nose down where your thigh meets this delicious skin, breathing you in. He can feel the dampness of your pussy smearing on his face as he drags his cheek down. Marking himself up with you.

Biting you in a harsher manner on your inner thighs, feeling how your skin melts like butter at his attack. Smearing you in the blood that's drying up faster now, licking up the arousal that's seeping from your underwear.

His girl loves this so fucking much.. as you should.

The little whimpers you let out.. he can't wait any longer. He's teased himself enough. He can feel the fucking precum soaking his shorts. Hell, it's probably even on your legs at this point. The throbbing is so hard for him to ignore, but you aren't fully claimed yet. He hasn't had his fill of your cunt.

Spinning you slightly, dragging you to the edge of the couch. Sinking to his knees in front of you.

He's ripping your underwear off with his teeth, laughing cruelly as he hears your startled gasp. You're awake now it seems. Maybe you're swearing at him. Maybe you're begging him to stop. Maybe you're moaning. He doesn't care. It's time to eat.

Swiping his tongue all the way from your cute hole to your adorable clit. There's only a faint amount of blood leaking from him now, but it's enough for him to slowly watch it mix with your arousal. Only fueling him more to eat you.

Stretching you apart with his fingers, putting weight behind it to make sure you can't move. Can't protest. Sucking every last drop from you, lapping at you like you're water in an oasis. Feeling you clench. Nipping at your clit, not wanting your body to get used to one sensation.

Thrusting his tongue into your cunt, licking against your walls, wanting to consume you from the source.

He's thrusting slowly against the couch, imagining splitting you open with his cock, mimicking the motions with his tongue. You're spasming around him, he can hear your cries getting louder.

Slowly thrusting in with his finger, adding another soon after. Stretching you open, making room for him to shove his tongue further in along with them.

Feeling your legs shake around his shoulders, restricting his breathing. Cumming in his shorts at you getting off on being claimed.

Pulling back, eyes half lidded, running his eyes over your body. Admiring all of the blood smears and marks on your body. He's never felt so in control. So satiated. So utterly dominant over you. There's no doubting that you're his.

And he hasn't even fucked you yet.

[fairydvsts-blog]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

obx masterlist

summary; your best friend, Rafe, finds out that you're dating someone else and he's not happy about it

warnings; some angst, jealous!Rafe, SMUT, praising and degrading, spanking, oral sex (fem receiving), hickeys, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up you all!)

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!

While you were sitting on your bed doing your homework, Rafe suddenly entered your room, looking at you with anger in his ocean blue eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" he questioned, not even bothering to say hello.

He had showed up unannounced, clearly annoyed at you; but the thing was you had no idea why he was so mad, since you hadn't done anything that could have upset him.

Or so you thought.

"Tell you what, exactly?" you asked.

Your confusion only grew as seconds passed, luckily, Rafe broke the silence and said, "That you're dating someone."

His statement surprised you, you didn't expect him to figure it out that soon; only a week had gone by since you had started seeing the guy. But guess what, Rafe Cameron seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

"I don't know, Rafe," you answered him, then added, "I mean, I've barely know him for a few days." You saw his stoic features harden as you talked.

"So what?" he replicated. "You didn't think I would want to know?"

You rolled your eyes at his hypocrisy; he dated a new girl every week and he for sure didn't talk to you about any of them —not that you wanted to know anyways. Why should you tell him then?

"Know what? That I'm fucking someone? I don't recall you telling me such things" you declared as you frowned, starting to get mad at him.

You stood up, taking some steps in his direction, while his eyes widened at your words. He clearly wasn't expecting to hear that.

"You've fucked him?" the blonde snapped; his jaw was visiblely tense.

"Yes, it is wrong now?" you asked him with raised eyebrows at the same time that you crossed your arms.

Your breasts poked out from the neckline of your tank top, drawing Rafe's attention for an instant. Though he looked away quickly, his intense stare made you blush a little and you let go of you arms unconsciously.

"Yeah, it is," he stated, then he added, "you said it yourself, you don't even know him that well."

He was being so unfair to you that your blood started boiling. When he fucked girls at parties, he didn't care about not knowing them; he didn't even ask for their names.

"So what?" you mocked him. "Do you know every girl you've put your dick into?"

He gasped, not knowing how to argue with that; he knew that you had a point, but he wouldn't recognise it.

"It's different," he ended up saying.

"The hell is not," you refuted.

After a few seconds of silence, in which you gave each other a deathly stare, you sighed and decided to speak again, "Sometimes I don't get you, Rafe, I just don't."

Rafe's attitude pissed you off so much; one minute he was all over you, like you were the most precious treasure he had, and the other he was fucking other girl that wasn't you. And it enraged you because you liked him, a lot, even if you didn't want to admit it out loud.

"Bet he doesn't even fuck you properly." His sudden statement made you gasp because he was, in fact, correct.

You couldn't deny the guy sucked at sex, but he was popular and good-looking and just happened to be at that party where Rafe stood you up for some blonde chick; and given that you wanted him to feel as jealous as you felt when he fucked other girls, you couldn't prove him right.

So you held your head high and, then, you lied, "I think he does it quite well actually."

You had to look up at him after he took a step closer, fixating his fiery eyes in yours. Suddenly, you were so close together that you could feel his warm breathing in your skin.

"Bet I could fuck you so much better."

He left you open-mouthed and your heart started hammering in your chest as he spoke. When he finished talking, he licked his lips with a smirk and your eyes betrayed you, looking closely at his mouth.

On a normal basis, you would have been intimidated by him, but that day you were feeling bolder than ever, so you rose up on your toes to reach his ear and whispered, "Then fuckin' prove it."

He shortened the distance between the both of you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and connecting your lips with his; the action took you by surprise and your eyes widened for a moment. In just seconds, the kiss became so hungry and desperate that your breath hitched and your legs started feeling like jelly.

Your hands caressed his cheeks, feeling the stubble on his jaw, while you closed your eyes. As the kiss deepened, you felt his bigs hands grabbing your butt and then Rafe lift you up so that he could place you in top of your bed. You felt your notes getting crushed, so, without breaking the kiss, you fumbled on the mattress for the sheets to toss them to the ground.

After that, you took off his cap, throwing it aside, to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. You pulled his blonde locks to push him away in order to start undressing; your eyes didn't leave his as you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and removed it. His eyes dropped from your eyes to your exposed breasts and his breathing became heavier.

He stood still for a few seconds, just staring at your body, before saying, "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned over you to take one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it like a man starved. You moaned at his action as your hands sneaked under his polo shirt to touch his soft skin; when he let go of your nipple with a loud pop, you decided to take it off.

As you put his shirt aside, he started to kiss and lick your neck, marking it. You were sure he'd leave love bites all over it and the thought of everyone seeing his marks on your body only made you wetter.

You had waited so long for that moment that it felt unreal.

"I want that fuckin' asshole to know who you really belong to, baby," he stated, gently bitting your collarbone.

His hand wandered over your left thigh, caressing your naked skin, until it reached your shorts. He looked at your face, asking for permission to undress you completely; you nodded to make him know that it was okay. Rafe smirked and, then, took off your shorts and underwear.

He didn't waste any time after that; he just buried his face between your legs. His action took you by surprise and you gasped for air while you grabbed at your bedsheets, moaning loudly when he sucked hungrily at your clit. Your back arched because of the pleasure his talented tongue was giving you, licking every sensitive part of your pussy from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

Seconds later, you felt how Rafe placed his tongue right onto your clit again, licking it up and down at a tortuous pace. Your legs started shaking and you grabbed his hair to bring his head closer to you; he was almost suffocating in your pussy, but he couldn't think of a better way of dying. You felt a little bit ashamed when you started cumming after just a few minutes of stimulation, however, Rafe encouraged you to do so.

"That's it, baby, cum in my face like the little slut you are," he said, rubbing your clit with his thumb to help you ride your orgasm.

"Oh my god! Rafe!" you moaned, desperately grinding your pussy against his mouth.

The pleasure clouded all of your senses for what seemed minutes and when the feeling went away, you looked down to find his blue eyes staring at you, mesmerised.

"I love you," he admitted, climbing over you to kiss your lips hungrily but you couldn't return the kiss.

"What?" you asked, totally surprised by his confession.

"I love you, baby, do you love me?" he answered, caressing your cheek while he placed himself between your legs.

It took you a few seconds to react, but you finally said, "I love you, Rafe."

He smiled at you, giving you a short kiss before unbuttoning his short dress pants under your attentive gaze. You tried to help him undress but he didn't allow it, grabbing your hips to turn you around and place you over your stomach. After that, Rafe couldn't resist the urge to spank you and his action made you moan.

"Stay still, baby," he ordered while he finished undressing.

"Again," you demanded, ignoring his request.

You heard his laughter.

"So my little slut likes to be spanked... Interesting," he pointed out, positioning behind you and lifting your hips from the mattress.

Then, he slapped you again, harder that time, and you moaned, feeling your pussy getting wetter —if that was possible. You looked back, finding him in all his naked glory and your cheeks turned red at the sight.

He was gorgeous, every part of him.

"Please, Rafe," you begged, shaking your butt in need of some sort of friction.

"Fuck, baby, you have the prettiest cunt," he told you, rubbing the thick head of his cock over your clit and you squirmed in response, "I'm going to fucking destroy you, sweetheart."

He penetranted you in one single thrust, taking your breath away because of the sudden intrusion. He was big and it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but he didn't push your limits, thrusting into you slowly and carefully at first, which made it more pleasant for you.

When he felt that you were ready to take more, he started pounding into you faster; his dick filled you perfectly, it was like he was made to fuck you, and in no time you were a moaning mess under him. With each thrust, his pelvis hit your ass cheeks, pushing you hard against the mattress.

"I wish you could see yourself, baby," he panted, slapping your thigh while he screwed you hard, "You look like a fucking goddess."

The bedroom was too hot; his skin was covered in sweat and it felt sticky against yours. He leaned over you, reaching for your neck to cover it with wet kisses. At the same time, his right hand trailed toward your pussy, pressing and rubbing your clit with two fingers. You held onto his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin unintentionally due to the pleasure.

You bit your lower lip so hard that your drew blood. He noticed it, so he grabbed your jaw with his free hand to bring your mouth closer to his and licked your lip clean.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you announced, whimpering on his lips.

"I know, baby, I can feel your pretty pussy tightening around my cock," he moaned next to your ear, giving you goosebumps.

Hearing Rafe's moans was your new favourite thing in the world.

"My little slut is gonna cum all over my cock?" He asked, caressing your back until he reached your ass, spanking you again.

"Rafe, yes! I'm cumming!" you almost screamed in pleasure, trembling in his strong arms.

Your muscles became so thigh that your orgasm triggered his own.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming too," he warned, trying to pull out because he wasn't wearing a condom, but you stopped him from doing so.

You didn't want your orgasm ruined.

"Inside, please," you begged.

Rafe pounded into you one last time before he came with a loud moan, filling you with his cum. He kept thrusting into you for a few seconds to ride his climax and then he collapsed over you on the mattress. It took him a moment to move to the side to cuddle with you; both of you were gasping for breath.

"Who fucks you better then?"

You couldn't help but smile and answered, "You do, Rafe."

[togeppy]

doubt-free ;

xaden riorson x reader

reader quells xaden's worries that he's not going to be a good father, and when he holds his child for the first time, he comes around to believe it himself. ✧ : based on this req! set post-series because these characters need a break and a happily ever after. brief mentions of body self-consciousness near the beginning.

"Have I sprouted a tail?" you ask your husband nonchalantly, as you finish fixing your bed and move to sit atop the now-neatly presented spread. 

Xaden, momentarily stunned, raises an eyebrow from where he sits at his desk. "What?" 

You face him as you make yourself comfortable, letting the book that you had decided to read rest on your lap as you gaze back at the man. "You've been staring at me for minutes now, and not in an 'I need to get you in that bed instead of making it up' way, but in a 'I am looking at you concerned because you've grown a new appendage' way." 

The man lets a small laugh escape his lips at your antics. "No, you have not grown a tail." 

You give him another pointed look. "Fine, then care to explain why you're giving me that look? I know this bump makes me look kind of lumpy now, but I would argue that it's your fault I look like this, so you don't have the right to look at me like I've turned into a wyvern." 

Your hand goes to rest atop your belly that has recently made itself visible regardless of whatever clothes you attempt to hide it behind. You’ve become self-conscious about it - you haven't gotten used to the changes your body is undergoing, and more often than not you find yourself looking in the mirror in the morning wondering where your old body has gone.

Xaden's smile immediately falls, getting up from his seat to lie in front of you on the bed. Without hesitation, he moves your hand and begins peppering kisses along your stomach. A soft smile instantly lights up your face at the action. When he finally finds the amount of kisses he’s given satisfactory, he looks back up at you. 

“Don’t think for a moment that you look unattractive because of this,” he mumbles, placing one final kiss on the bump, “You look more attractive than ever. You’re carrying our child and I think that you look absolutely gorgeous doing it.” 

Your heart lightens at his words, and you bring your hand to rake through his hair as he grins up at you, adoration evident in his eyes. 

“I appreciate the flattery, but that doesn’t explain why I’ve got eye marks in my back from how hard you’ve been staring.” 

Xaden’s smile falls once again as he moves to sit up properly next to you. His eyes go distant, and all you can do is study him as he finds the words to vocalize what he’s thinking. 

“Every time I see the bump grow, it becomes more of a reality that we’re going to be parents.” Xaden starts, unable to meet your eyes at first. You can tell that he hasn’t arrived at the core of his thought yet, so you stay silent, knowing that he’s carefully choosing his words, a habit he’s developed since being named as the Duke. 

“I don’t really… have any idea what a normal parent is like,” he whispers, eyes finally drifting up to your own, his eyebrows furrowed as he continues thinking, “My mother left me in the middle of the night as a child and ran off to the isles to start a new family immediately afterwards. My father was actively running a secret rebellion while also acting as the Duke of Tyrrendor. He cared about me, but I can’t say that his parenting methods were ideal. I… worry that I’m not going to be a good dad because of it.” 

You sit stunned for a moment, before setting your book down on the bedside table, long forgotten. You move quickly to slot yourself between Xaden’s legs, sitting with your own legs tucked beneath you so that you’re now face-to-face, and you take his hand in both of your own. 

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” you state, confidence clear in your voice, “I’ve never met a more caring man in my life. You sacrifice so much for me and everyone in this province daily, more than I could ever begin to put into words. I have no doubts that you’d do the same for our child.” 

Your husband shakes his head, placing his free hand on top of your bump. “But that’s why I worry. I have so many responsibilities that I fear I won’t have enough time to properly give our child the time that they need.” 

For a second, you stare back at him. It’s a valid concern - he does have a lot on his plate given his title, but you know that despite his stony exterior, Xaden Riorson is a lover at his core. He always finds time for the people close to his heart. 

“You’re excellent at dividing your time. You make plenty of time for me, I almost never feel like you’re neglecting me.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Almost never? That’s more often than I’d like.” 

The corner of your mouth lifts up in a playful grin. “Sometimes I’m convinced Garrick thinks he’s the one married to you. While I’m aware that the two of you are allowed to spend time together, I think you need to cut down on your allocated Garrick time and redelegate some of that time to me.” 

Xaden rolls his eyes as he lets out a laugh in fond exasperation. “Can, and will gladly do, but when he comes to our door in protest, you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with him.” 

Your smile only deepens, “I can do that.” Your knees now grow sore at your position, so you move to lie down, and the dark-haired man guides you to lie atop him, your head nestled in his shoulder as your body rests between his legs. 

“In all seriousness though, you might not think it yourself, but you’re incredible at being present despite everything you’ve got going on. You do your paperwork here instead of your office just so that you can be in the same room as me. You invite everyone to have meals together daily so that you’re always updated on how our friends are doing.” You lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his neck. “This baby is never going to doubt that you’ll do the most to make time for them.” 

Xaden smiles softly as he looks down on you, rubbing a hand against your back. You can see in the way that his facial expression has changed that he’s started to accept your words, and has somewhat accepted that he’ll be a not-too-shabby dad. He presses an equally gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” 

You angle your head to get a better look at him, and you eye him with adoration. “Besides, we’ve got a village at our disposal anyways. Surely if we don’t know what we’re doing, someone will.” You think of your friends, who were so eager to help out the moment that you announced you were expecting, and you know that any of them would be willing to come to your aid in a heartbeat. 

Xaden nods in agreement, before his eyebrows furrow again. “We’re not letting Ridoc babysit without someone else present until this kid is at least ten.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before the words can come out you think of a future where Ridoc has turned your child into an equally rowdy mini-him, and anticipate the headache you both will have trying to rein them in. “Agreed.” 

Your husband lets out a little exhale that doubles as a laugh and holds you tight. 

“Normal parents are overrated anyways,” you whisper, your hand resting on Xaden’s chest, “We staged a revolution, won a war and now reign over a whole damned province. This kid is going to be bragging that they’ve got the coolest dad ever.” 

Three months later, you walk - or rather, waddle with how large you’ve gotten - into your room, where you’re surprised to see Xaden standing near the corner of baby things, a small onesie and children’s book in each of his hands.

“Trying to find your next read?” you quip, and the man spins around to face you, rolling his eyes.

“Wondering how in the world to take care of a baby,” he responds, setting the book down. You move towards him, and he quickly wraps his free arm around your waist for support, knowing you’re not able to stand for very long without growing uncomfortable. 

“That’s a battle we’ll learn to deal with when we get there,” you respond, gaze finally dropping to the item of clothing he had picked out, “I like that one, Imogen bought a cute matching set.” 

Xaden smiles softly, though his eyes have the far-off look you’ve grown so familiar with. 

“What’s on your mind this time?” you ask patiently, knowing that your husband will speak when he’s ready. 

“I’ve been a warrior my whole life, not a nurturer. I’ve spent years fighting to prove my worth as a marked one, to advocate for the cause of the revolution, to demonstrate my competence as a Duke.” He sighs. “This onesie is so… so miniscule. Switching from being a fighter to protecting someone this tiny feels impossible.” 

You take a long look at him - you thought that you had quelled his worries about being an unfit dad months ago, but it’s clear the doubtful thoughts have returned. 

Tilting your head slightly to the side, thinking back to the past, you decide to challenge the man. “You’re not just a warrior, you’ve always been a protector too. You took on 107 scars to keep the marked ones safe. You killed a prince because he was bullying your best friend. You became venin and then gave up the power to save the entire Continent. You shelter me from the onslaught of… everything you face each day. You can’t say that you’re not a nurturer, because you’ve taken on so many fights to protect others that you don’t even realize it’s become second nature to you.” 

He stares back at you, stunned by the list of things you had so easily thought up. “I- I guess.” His eyes are still distant as they travel down to the book he had set aside. “Do you think they’ll like me?” 

Your hand goes up to gently stroke at the man’s cheek. “Of course, they’ll absolutely adore you.”

Xaden stands quiet, still staring down, his mind elsewhere. “I have no experience with babies, and I’ve been told my interpersonal skills make me unapproachable. For most of my life people hated me before they even met me. What if our kid thinks I’m too boring for them? That they can’t come to me with their worries?” His voice sounds defeated, like he’s just accepted that his own child will resent him straight out of the womb.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Xaden, it’s a baby. I seriously doubt they’ll be concerned about your interpersonal skills, just that their dad is there to rock them to sleep. You’ve quite literally got more backstory than anyone on this continent, I don’t think it’s possible for this child to find you boring.” 

His eyes are no longer hovering on the book, and they now look at yours, as if seeking validation within them. You hold his gaze, strong and sure, letting him know that you believe every word you say to be the truth. 

He exhales, his body sagging against you, and you know you’ve - at least temporarily - placated his fears. He rests his head atop yours, placing a kiss into your hair. His voice now sounds weary as he speaks. “I’ve never been this worried about anything in my life. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this important worth worrying about.” 

You can’t help but smile knowing the feeling all too well. “Yeah, I’ve been getting more and more terrified the closer we get to this baby being born.” 

He lifts his head and studies you. “You’re doing a better job than me at not showing it though.” 

You shake your head. “To the untrained eye, you look unfazed and perfectly prepared. I’ve just been married to you long enough to know that you’re not.” 

Xaden sighs again, tightening his grip around your waist. “You’re going to be the best mother. I’m going to have to try pretty hard to be able to compare.” 

You laugh, peeling yourself away from him to go sit down, your body physically protesting at having stood for so long. “I don’t think you’re going to be a good mother.” 

Your husband scoffs at your joke, following behind you as you continue. 

“But you’re going to be an amazing dad, just you wait and see.” 

Emotions were never Xaden’s strong suit, but holding your baby for the first time has awoken emotions that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling all at once. Pure joy, elation, anxiety, wonder, pride. He feels all of them and more as he stares down at the newborn in his arms. 

Noticing your fatigue hours after the baby was born, your husband urged you to sleep, assuring you that he would keep a careful eye on the baby. He now stands swaying as you and the baby both rest, the latter held tightly yet gently in his arms. 

He paces slowly around the room, rocking your child as he moves. His eyes never leave them for a moment as his shadows hover protectively around both him and the swaddle of blankets to prevent anything from causing the baby any harm. When he’s sure the newborn won’t stir, he carefully takes a seat in a plush chair in the corner of the room, holding them against his chest. 

His finger goes to lightly trace the baby’s features, adoration and awe evident in his eyes. All of his defenses are down - Xaden has never felt this exposed or vulnerable in his life, all because of his offspring, so fragile in his arms. He stares down at his child, unmoving apart from the rise and fall of their chest as they take in small breaths. 

“I’m never going to let anything or anyone hurt you,” he whispers quietly so that no one arouses from their sleep, “Might spoil you a little too. But don’t let your Mommy know that.” 

He casts a quick glance up to you and smiles softly at your sleeping figure, body fused with the bed out of pure exhaustion, yet relaxed, trusting wholeheartedly that he’s taking good care of your child. He knows at that moment that he will do your bidding for the rest of his life - it’s because of you that he has this precious baby in his arms, and for a treasure so great, he can never repay you. 

His eyes drop back down to the newborn, his heart never resting for a moment as the elation overcomes him, every single nerve in his body alert. 

“Everything I do from now on will be for you now, huh,” he coos, “You’ve only been here for a few hours and I’m already willing to raze all of Tyrrendor if it’ll keep you happy. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that though.”

Xaden feels it deep in his chest, the doubts no longer chasing him. He will be a good father because the tiny bundle in his arms deserves the world. They will never doubt that they’re loved, they will have his undivided attention any time they need it, and they will be safe from anything that comes their way. He’s a protector and a nurturer, and with you by his side, and all of your friends that have become family ready to lend a helping hand, this baby will have anything and everything that they will possibly need. 

“I love you with everything that I am,” he whispers to your child, placing a soft kiss on their forehead, careful not to jostle them too much, “And that will never, ever, change.” 

Your husband holds the baby tight, though now the anxiety is gone. He holds his whole world in his arms, and he feels calm, knowing that a new chapter of his life is starting. He’s no longer just the Duke of Tyrrendor, the ex-venin shadow-wielder, or the head of the revolution. He’s your child’s Dad, and to him, that’s the most important title of them all.

[tinyraptorhands]

Whats In A (Nick) Name?

It seemed a little...unfair.

Everyone in class 1-A got a nickname from Katsuki Bakugo. Ears, Shitty Hair, Icy Hot, Dunceface, Raccoon Eyes, Ponytail, Four Eyes, Deku....the list went on.

Everyone, except you-that is.

You two got along well enough. He...tolerated your presence more than most. So...why did he never give you a fun little nickname?!

Sure, maybe in the long run that was a good thing. It wasn't like what he nicknamed people were nice. (Seriously, Soysauce face?? Poor Sero. And Round cheeks? Ochako deserved better!) So. You did what any sane person would do.

You gave *him* nicknames.

"Ratsuki!" "Bakubeans!" "Bomberboy!" "Kit Kat!" "Katsudon!" "Bakustayawhile!" (Admittedly, the last one was pretty lame, but you were running out of ideas.)

And each time Katsuki gave you his signature glare and would huff and puff.

Classic.

And yet...you *still* hadn't earned a coveted Katsuki branded Nickname! It was just...either 'you' or your last name.

How boring.

"Y/N, I really don't understand why you're so adamant on getting him to give you a nickname." Tsuyu said to you one day as you both ate lunch.

"Seriously, it's kinda not a good thing." Ochako waved her chopsticks dismissively.

You shook your head. "No, see, you don't get it. *Everyone* has a nickname! And yet it's like I don't even register in his brain! I feel left out! An outcast! A reject!!"

"Thats...a little extreme, don't you think?" Midoriya sweatdropped, and Tenya nodded.

"Really! You should be grateful he isn't making fun of you or your quirk!" The class president said, hands chopping in their usual way.

Nah. You weren't buying it. Something was up. "Mark my words. I *will* have a nickname by the end of this year."

The four of them looked at you. You clearly were a lost cause.

And so, you continued to harass the ash blonde grump.

"Hey, Katsup!" You called out to him in the common room, passing by. Apparently, Katsuki had had enough.

"DAMMIT WHAT IS WITH THE STUPID ASS NAMES!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" He finally snapped, veins pulsing in his head and neck, palms sparking.

Bingo.

"Well. You give everyone else a nickname." You deadpanned.

"So!? What makes you think I want or need one!?" Katsuki grunted, fingers twitching at his sides.

"Because you haven't given me one!"

He was silent. Almost gobsmacked, really.

"...What?" He finally spoke. You sighed as if it were a hassle to talk about.

"You've given *everyone* in class a nickname. Everyone except me. What's the deal??" You put your hands on your hips. "Am I just unworthy of your blessing??"

"B-blessing!? Are you stupid??" Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, just feeling left out-"

"You don't need one." He stated, cutting you off. You frowned.

"What?? Why not!?" You clenched your fists. "Aren't we friends!?"

"Thats not the poi-"

"Am I just some dumb forgettable extra?!"

"Will you shut u-"

"Just tell m-"

He suddenly came up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders. He gave you a look that could kill, and you swallowed.

"You want a nickname?" He asked, voice low. You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. "Fine. But you should know, I didn't give you one for a reason."

You blinked, and cocked your head. "...Why?"

He shook his head. "Because you're too good for a nickname. And if I gave you one..." he blushed, "I'd want it to mean something special. To mean..." he looked down, taking a slow breath through his nose. "...Dammit. I'd want it to mean you were mine."

Oh.

You felt your face heat up.

"...Yeah?" You squeaked out. He nodded.

"Yeah. So....if you want a nickname..." His eyes met yours, "y'gotta be mine, first."

You bit your lip, blushing. "...Okay. Then...I'll be yours."

He smirked. "Good choice...Sweetheart."

((I will get the last part of You Scratch My Back out soon. I just had this stuck in my head forever. I honestly was stuck on what he could call the reader, so if you dont like Sweetheart, you could easily replace it. I was thinking sunshine, but that's kinda specific, so...yeah.))

[lunaandco]

guys my age; part two

pairing: alexia putellas x ofc

summary: claudia is getting on alexia's nerves. a punishment was long coming

warnings: smut, spanking, age difference, power imbalance, angst

author's note: many wanted a part 2, and i usually deny any request, but after i had this idea i kinda had to... there will be a final 3rd part and that will be it!

masterlist // part one // series masterlist // I do not take requests

Claudia was doing it on purpose. Alexia watched her as she sat on Salma's lap, giggling about something she was showing her on her phone, her pretty smile directed towards someone other than herself.

Alexia knew she was being punished, in a childish petty way. Claudia was pissed at being denied more of their illicit activities, since Alexia insisted their one off in the hotel room had been a unique mistake that would not happen again.

She should be happy Claudia was finding someone else to be with, but jealousy was blinding her completely.

Alexia needed a full intervention, if she wanted to keep her dignity and reputation. A twenty year old starlet could not be the end of her.

The worst thing was, it was starting to be obvious. The night before, Irene had looked at her with an arched eyebrow and the knowing curl in her lips of a woman that was being lied to her face, when Alexia said nothing was going on with Claudia.

She obviously ended up caving. Irene was not necessarily approving, but she didn't blow off at her either.

"Sometimes we want thing that we can't have," she told her. "Be wise, capi."

Alexia hated how much that nickname reminded her of Claudia and what happened between them.

"Capi?" Alexia shot her gaze back to Claudia, who had left Salma's lap to approach her silently. "Can you take me home, please?"

"Can't Salma do it?" Alexia didn't mean to be rude, but as they got closer, Claudia started to get lifts almost exclusively from Salma.

"She's got family stuff she can't be late for."

"Ah."

Alexia should come up with an excuse. Say she also had something with her family or a dentist appointment. But just as it was unprofessional to sleep with her players as a captain, it was to avoid them at all costs.

So she ended up leading Claudia to her car, heart risen to her throat as she watched the youngster buckle up her seat belt. They had been in this situation cuntless times, but this was the first since they had... well, Alexia did not want to think about it too hard.

It would get her in trouble.

Claudia didn't seem to care about the tension—or percieve it at all—as she connected her phone to the Bluetooth to put her own playlist, humming one song or another.

"You've been avoiding me," she stated calmly.

"I—" Alexia didn't want to deny it, it would only add gasloghting to the list of crimen she had committed up until now. "We should keep a profesional distance. That is what I'm trying to do."

"Bullshit."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said bullshit."

Claudia's eyes were blazing with emotion.

"You want me. I can see it." Claudia's whole body was turned towards Alexia.

"Claudia we..."

"No. You. All our issues are actually your fears." Fire started filling Alexia's veins. "You're just a coward. You don't have the balls to take what you wan—"

Alexia took the wrong turn, and began driving in direction to her home, not Claudia's. It was closer and it had private parking. And her bed was there, if things escalated. Which theye were going to.

"What—"

"Silence."

Claudia gulped, the fight gone from her body. Alexia might have skipped a few traffic laws in order to get them there sooner, parking in her garden and exiting the car immediately. She swung open the passengers door, grabbing Claudia by the arm and quite literally dragging her inside.

The girl had very little time to stare at her surroundings and drink in Alexia's living space, before they reached the bedroom. She was not going to cower under Alexia's wrath, though. With a quick turn, that drove rival players insane, Claudia got on her tip toes and kissed Alexia, relishing in the way the captain returned the kiss.

But a sharp slap hit her ass.

"You need to be taught a lesson on repeat," decided Alexia. "I am your captain. For better or for worse. You will address me as such."

"Yes, capi," she breathed. Alexia gasped. She was still not used to that fucking nickname coming out of Claudia's pretty pink lips.

Still, she was not deterred. Alexia helped Claudia strip, who obeyed without protest, too enthralled by Alexia's sudden burst of passion. It was what she had been hoping for, by being a little more touchy with Salma than was necessary.

Once she was completely nude, Alexia sat on her bed, still dressed. She palmed her lap a clear non-verbal order. Claudia draped herself across her thighs, her ass right in front of Alexia, who squeezed one cheek.

"I presume you already know what is going to happen, you've been hoping for it, haven't you?"

"Yes, capi."

"You wanted this?" A harsh slap fell on the cheek she had been groping.

"Yes, capi."

"You understand this is a punishment, not a reward?"

"Yes, capi."

Another harsh slap on the other thigh.

"I would give you a count, but I don't want you to know how much is left."

Claudia gasped. It was as if Alexia already knew what she needed. The onslaught on her ass was non stopping. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, as she cried out. Claudia loved it.

Once her vision was blurry, and her throat was dry, Alexia's hand returned to gently squeeze the reddened skin.

"You were good, baby," she praised.

"Thank you, capi."

💙❤️

Claudia woke up later that evening. The sun was long gone, there was a dull throb on her backside, that had been clearly treated for the bruises with cream. A blanket was thrown over her body, and Alexia was sitting in silence by the foot of the bed.

"Capi?" she called with a stuttering voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure?"

Alexia's face was lined with worry. Claudia's body tensed, as if she could feel the thoughts swirling through her captain's head.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I really liked it, earlier. I—"

"It should not happen again."

Ah.

Claudia knew this would happen, in the back of her mind. Alexia clearly wanted her, there were already two instances of her doing exactly what she said they shouldn't, but the rejection still stung.

"Oh, c'mon. It's not a bad thing, I know you're hungry up with the age difference, and the captain thing, but I'm sure there is a way for HR to—"

"I said no, Claudia."

"Alright."

Furiously, Claudia got up from the bed, quickly finding her clothes and putting them on, even if it ached in the bruised areas of her ass. If Alexia still insisted she didn't want her, then Caludia would not beg forever.

"Wait, let me wash you up and make you some dinner at le—"

"No!" Interrupted Cludia with tears of frustration streaming down her face. "You don't get to reject me and then have aftercare. If you want to be all sweet and attentive, then fucking date me!"

Alexia looked hurt, but Caludia didn't care, storming off the house.