#enjoy feasting 🤭

[q1ngqve]

What's up with both Ratio and Aventurine leaning superrrr close as if to kiss us and then leaving? I can't be the only one who's mad right? 😭

Imma just leave a tiny brainrot in here because I need someone to scream along with me... imagine dr ratio sitting you on his lap with your back to him and holding you by the neck whispering shit into your ears while aventurine holds your face by the chin leaning in to kiss you but misses your lips intentionally...

I'm not okay... 😭

why are all of you so big brained 🤭 im gonna set the scene to be at the club because this is so drunk / tipsy coded

they’ll be teasing you the whole time, whispering filthy things they wanna do to you while you’re tipsy! you’re just so so dizzy, your head in the clouds as you try to grind yourself back against dr ratio :( you can feel how hard he is, dick poking your ass, feeling as if it’s gonna burst through his pants at any moment

they have your legs hooked on dr ratio’s, spreading you open for them, don’t worry, nobody will see you because the three of you are in a vip booth!

they'd take advantage of your drunken state to tease the fuck out of you, never giving you what you want. dr ratio would run his hands all over your body, squeezing at your waist and thighs! his hips unmoving even when you whine back at him, begging for him to put it in. and all he does is slide the strap of your top down your shoulder before pressing a kiss there, your legs threatening to close when he does the same on the other side.

“open up.” your lips part at the rough demand from the man behind you, his fingers sliding in, fingers resting comfortably on your tongue while you suck on them, “good girl.” your toes curl when he removes them almost immediately, running them down your body to your breast, teasing and pinching at your perky nipples.

aventurine would stand between your legs, admiring your features under the crazy lights of the club, his eyes practically glowing each time you call out his name desperately. dr ratio's hand wraps around your throat, fingers pushing the sides of it, restricting your air flow easily. "rinnie..." soft mumbles leave you when aventurine leans down, lips inches from yours.

"please— wanna taste you." both men laughs lightly at your begging, dr ratio's grip on your throat tightens, his own lips brushing on your earlobe, "we've barely touched you, and you're so delirious already?" your pussy clenches at his teasing, the alcohol in your system isn't helping, and why do they have to be so fucking hot?

aventurine brushes your hair back from your cheek, the cool rings on his fingers making you flinch slightly, your eyes flicking from his eyes to lips multiple times during the process. "kiss me, please." you hear a soft hum from the man in front you as he leans in, his soft lips touching yours gently before the kiss lands on the side of your lips.

your body tenses as your eyes fly open and you look at aventurine in disbelief. he laughs when you whine, your hands reaching out to grab at his coat, trying to pull him back and give you a proper kiss. “eager, aren’t we?”

[keylovesstuff]

How would Goku and Mario interact with eachother?

Mmm I think they'd get along quite well... They're both friendly individuals that loves both Adventures and just taking it easy relaxing ☺️. I guess that's probably how'd they'd interact just on some random adventure 🤭.

[verstappen-cult]

LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.

PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.

SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.

GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 989,562 others

yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋​🤍​

View all 768,556 comments

user01 relationship goals

user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content

landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.

yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞​ maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁​👊​ ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me

user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast

user04 MY PARENTS

francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!

yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me

user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded

user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?

user07 the girlfriend effect is real

maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!

yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 771,628 others

yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.

View all 624,879 comments

user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute

user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER

user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea

danielricciardo disgusting

yourusername you're just jealous

charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(

landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.

maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES

user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen

user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen

user13 HE LOVES HER SM

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, zendaya and 884,672 others

yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺​🤍

View all 937,839 comments

user14 they 😭​ stayed home 😭​ instead

georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.

maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me

user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????

user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭​

user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this

user18 MY OH MY

user19 yn's comment section always delivers

user20 happy for them and not at all jealous

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 973,722 others

yourusername 🖤​🖤​🖤​

View all 937,839 comments

user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n

user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?

user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING

alex_albon where did you two go

yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone

oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you

charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI

user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA

user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other

user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername and 1,7365,825 others

maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.

View all 998,2748 comments

user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN

user28 all men should be like max verstappen

yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.

user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS

landonorris you actually made her look pretty

yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER

user30 they're so adorable its disgusting

user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them

charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands

user32 STOP THIS MADNESS

user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger

© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[seraphicsentences]

here’s a post dedicated to abby’s arms. why? because i said so.

and yes, they’re pretty much all nsfw. enjoy the visual! (i certainly am 🤭)

✂️ ok but imagine just watching abby’s biceps flex and ripple under her skin as she pumps her fingers into you, bumping against that sensitive spongy spot inside of you, working you towards your fourth orgasm of the night (so extremely motivated by your fucked-out mewls). no wonder she’s so buff. she’s exercising days and nights. ;)

✂️ thinking bout abby catching you watching her workout. you watching her do bicep curls specifically. oh lord, the pump her muscles get when she’s done (as if they could get any bigger)… and the way she grits her teeth while working an extra long set. you could get off on the heavy breaths she lets out alone. and she knows certainly knows it. you can tell by the haughty smirk plastered on her face as she eyes you inconspicuously staring.

✂️ but also just the way she’s so so strong but so very gentle with you is honestly the most attractive thing. she’d do anything you ask in a heartbeat, but just as easily put you in your place.

✂️ and the fact that she’s so strong really contributes to the appeal when you have her tied up. seeing such a big girl unable to move, massive arms pulled up tight around her head, flexing with every move as she twists and turns in pleasure, knowing you have that much power over someone whose figure is so dominating… yeah that’ll do it.

✂️ sweet jesus and when you’re sitting on her face, riding away like there’s no tomorrow, sensitive clit raw and red from the constant stimulation against her nose— abby’s just as turned on as you are, if not more. she’s feasting away from below you, tongue prodding at your dripping hole. she knows your legs are about to give out, she can tell by their trembling, and it’s like she’s been waiting for this moment. her arms are at your waist and quite literally holding up your entire body weight, making sure you’re still getting the pleasure she wants you to, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

✂️ or what about when she’s incredibly busy, you know, studying to be a doctor and all, and can’t exactly divert her attention to help you out when you’re feeling all desperate and horny? i mean she could offer you her thigh, but what are all those hours at the gym for? without even a glance, she sticks out an arm instead, and you silently thank god a moment later when your clit catches perfectly on her tricep, causing a suppressed moan to bubble out from the back of your throat— and abby to raise a teasing eyebrow in your direction. (only when you finish does abby really turn to you, saying “clean it.” and relishing in the way your tongue laps up her arm, gathering slick and making a further mess of yourself in the process).

well this was one fucking ramble. i am and will always be a proud slut for abby anderson’s arms.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

miguel + "you can take it" please 🤭

Crazy

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Fucking filthy. P in v, biting, oral (f receiving), pain (he's big, as we all know). It's late for me, sorry for any mistakes.

Pls enjoy and let me know what you think!

MDNI

...

It was a new position.

He’d never taken you from behind before, ass in the air and completely exposed—entirely at Miguel’s mercy. 

He ran his large hands down your sides and over the smooth globes of your ass, giving them both a little slap. You moaned, knees pressed into the mattress and face buried in his sweet-smelling sheets. Your back was impossibly arched as Miguel ate from you, keeping a large hand flat against your shoulder blades to keep you exactly how he wanted. 

His expert tongue swirled over your sensitive nub, sucking on it gently as he listened to your gentle pants and mewls. You could feel him smiling against your cunt, a little puff of air released from his nose in amusement.

“W-what?” You panted, raising your head just a bit so he could hear you properly.

“Nada,” he chuckled, giving your ass a messy kiss, “you sound cute.” You huffed, ready to retort with a slick response but cut yourself short when Miguel began to flick his tongue in a way that had your toes curling, your hips moving to chase his eager mouth. 

He dragged his tongue through your swollen folds, his mouth making obscene noises as he sucked all your juices, dipping into your hole and thrusting inside every so often.

“M-Miguel.” You whined—not for the first time that night—your hands extending outward to fist his sheets, nails biting into your palms through the thin cotton fabric.

“Feels good?” He murmured, his words muffled by your glistening cunt.

“M-mhm.” 

Your legs were spread so far apart you thought your pelvis would snap in half if it weren’t for Miguel stabilizing you. His hands held your cheeks open as he devoured you ravenously—like a starved man. He began licking so viciously that you were reaching your peak, legs trembling and hole twitching around his tongue.  

"Fuck, Miguel, I'm gonna—"       

"Come for me."

That did it. You cried into his sheets, tears welling in your eyes as your cunt convulsed, filling Miguel's waiting mouth with your essence. He groaned, feasting on your tangy juices with powerful sucks and long licks with his flat tongue.  

“You fuckin’ taste amazing.” Miguel hummed into your swollen pussy, giving it a messy kiss, his nose buried deep in your folds and taking in your heavy scent.  

He gave you about thirty seconds to catch your breath, getting on his knees and pressing his hips against your ass. He lowered his head to spit over your hole, watching it drip down your crack and flow over your puckering cunt. 

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut, his fingers skimming through your tender folds to spread the mess. Your muscles tensed at his touch, not because you didn’t like it, but because you knew that soon his cock would be breaching your walls, splitting you open.

“Relax, baby,” Miguel cooed, bringing a hand to the nape of your neck and lightly dragging it down to the curve of your spine in comfort, “I need you to relax. No quiero lastimarte.” 

You knew it would hurt. It always does at first, no matter the position. Miguel was just so big—and equally smug about it.

He glided his hard cock through your folds, completely coating the underside in your slick before lining himself up. You could feel his swollen head right over your sensitive cunt, teasing it a bit.

“¿Estas lista?” He asked, not daring to move until you gave him permission to do so. You nodded your head, bracing yourself for impact.

“Lemme hear you say it.” He said, slapping your ass gently.

“I-I’m ready.” You breathed, gasping when he carefully notched his tip into your entrance, griping your hips, and pushing in a few inches. You let out a pained moan, your pussy being stretched raw in the new position. 

Miguel paused, letting your walls adjust to his girth, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. 

“I know, baby, I know. ¿Te duele?“ You sniffed with another simple nod of your head, because yes, it did hurt, but you were tough, and it wasn’t the first time you were taking his cock. You could do it. You would do it. 

Miguel continued to soothe you in the way he knew best, draping over you to place kisses on your bare shoulders, mindful of not shifting his hips too much. You felt your cunt flutter around him, fighting to accommodate his massive size. You panted, squeezing his cock, catching his slight intake of breath.

“Miguel.”

“Mm?”

“Move, please.” Miguel wasted no time, gripping your hips again and continuing to push forward, pressing in a couple of inches more. You cried out, shoving your face into the sheets as you fought against the pain. 

Maybe you couldn’t do it.

“Miguel, I can’t—pull out, I-I can’t do it, you’re too fucking big.” Miguel was panting above you, fighting with every nerve in his body to not ram into you. You were so tight and wet and so fucking inviting.

“Don’t give up on me yet,” he groaned, “you can take it, baby, si puedes.” 

“Fuuuuck,” you whined when he slowly pushed his cock deeper, “y-you’re so fucking big.” 

“Almost there.” He reassured you, pressing firmly until he was balls deep, hips pressed snuggly against your ass. “Fuck, you see? You did it.” His praise went straight to your core as he pressed another kiss to your shoulder. 

He began to gently grind into you, taking his time before slowly pulling himself out and pushing back in. He did it again, and again, and again, picking up speed until he had you mewling beneath him, your cunt providing him with the juices needed to easily fuck into you. 

It felt good, so fucking good. The sheets were damp with your tears and drool, your mouth open as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Your eyes fluttered, your throat dry from your screams, and pussy squelching around him so loudly, it was the only thing he was really focusing on.

Miguel started getting mouthy, groaning, and whimpering, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were, how tight you gripped his cock. The stretch was unbelievable in this position, his cock seemingly reaching past your cervix and straight into your stomach—utterly stuffed to the brim. 

“Feels good, mama?” He grunted, suddenly lifting you up so that your back was against his chest. He pressed his mouth to your ear, one arm holding you around the waist while the other searched for your swollen clit, circling it with the pad of two fingers. “This cock making you feel good?”

You wept, cheeks wet with tears as he rammed into you violently now, your pussy creaming all over him.

“I’m s-so close,” you cried, feeling your climax approaching rapidly, your hips moving in sync with his to meet his thrust. “F-fuck, Miguel, I’m coming.” As soon as you said the words he latched on to your neck, sinking his fangs into you with a moan. You were overstimulated, your body trembling in his arms as you came over his cock, your sticky juices covering his toned abdomen. 

“Mmm, fuck, you’re squeezing me tight,” he panted in your ear, his thrusting growing sloppier and uncoordinated before a vicious moan ripped from him, holding you in his trembling arms as he came, and filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. “Goddamn, you’re gonna kill me.” You could feel his chest heaving on your back, his breathing erratic as he slowly calmed himself down.

“Not before you rip me in half with that massive thing you call a cock.” You answered weakly. Miguel buried his face as deep as he could into your neck, chuckling softly, tongue darting out to lap at the tiny wound he inflicted. 

“Mi muñequita,” he mumbled sleepily, “you took me so well, hm? Knew you could do it. You're a champ, baby.” His cock began to soften just enough for his spend to leak out, coating you both in sticky cum and sweat. 

You hummed, reaching back to run your fingers through his sweaty hair, turning your head so that he could meet you in a kiss. It was sloppy, like everything else, noisy in the silence of Miguel’s bedroom.

“Wanna go again?” You felt his lips pull into a grin, cock slipping out but hardening once again. You scoffed, lightly tapping his face.

“You’re crazy.” You yelped when he pushed you down against his bed in the same position you were in only a moment ago—chest flat against the mattress and ass up in the air to reveal your sopping cunt.

“Yeah,” he whispered, dragging his cock through your aching folds before pressing in, “I am crazy.”

...

Nada- Nothing

No quiero lastimarte- I don't want to hurt you

¿Estas lista?- Are you ready?

¿Te duele?- Does it hurt?

si puedes- yes you can

Mi muñequita- My little doll

[livelaughloveloak]

⌗🌬️ TATTOO ᩡ𖧧

⋆ pairing :: Neteyam x Navi! Reader

⋆ summary :: Neteyam spent his days telling his new metkayina friends about the special girl that took his heart back in his old clan. What was the one thing he kept mentioning though? Your tattoo.

⋆ word count :: 1.2k words

⋆ author's note :: this fic was based on the song "girl with the tattoo" by Miguel. Reader uses she/her pronouns. It's pretty short but ugh I loved writing this 🤭

If they only knew

The girl with the tattoo

"Teyam look!" You said while showing the new tribal tattoo swirling up your upper right arm. Neteyam looked in awe at how pretty it turned out to be.

You came from a more spiritual clan but soon moved to the forest, where Neteyam lived after the sky people destroyed your home. 

You didn't know much about your clan because you moved when you were still young but one thing you did know and wished to do was to get a tattoo once you turned 15. Amongst your clan the woman would get this as a sign of them entering adulthood just like a coming of age ceremony. 

"My girl, you look so pretty " Neteyam cupped your cheek, earning a grin from you. It was night and the people of the Omatikaya clan were still feasting at the bonfire.

You and Neteyam decided to leave early and ride your ikrans to a secluded mountain where you guys would spend your free time, or as some liked to call it, a “date”

Your bioluminescence freckles glowed in the dark, as well as Neteyam's. 

He pulled you into a hug, inhaling the cool night air, enjoying his time with his beloved.

"Even under the night sky she always seemed to shine brighter." Neteyam reminisces on his days back in the forest where he had you always by his side. 

"Forest boy is in love." Aonung gagged seeing how lovestruck Neteyam was, making Lo'ak and rotxo laugh. 

"Be quiet Aonung! I think it's cute." Tsireya tried to defend Neteyam but got drowned in by louder laughter coming from the boys once again.

She rolled her eyes and put her attention back to Neteyam. "She seems sweet, Neteyam."

 Neteyam nodded agreeing with the Metkayina girl. You were the kindest person he had ever met. 

You always did your own thing, not following anyone's expectations or caring if anyone was staring. Some older Navi would tell him that you were way too “independent” for a girl as most Navi women follow their parents' rules until they get a mate, which then they would follow their mate's rules. But that's why he loved you, he would always tease you and call you ‘miss independent’

With your unbeatable beauty and sweet fruity scent, your glowing and silky skin, as beautiful as the jewelry you wore which were gifts made by him. Your golden like eyes which glowed as bright as a star. You enchanted everyone you met, but Neteyam always thought you hit him the hardest.

Aonung stopped laughing and leaned forward from the tree trunk. “So where is she?"

"Huh?"

"You know, your beloved tattoo girl, did she not come with you guys?" Aonung asked nonchalantly as Tsireya leaned closer, also curious.

Neteyam's mouth shut, forming into a straight line, thinking about what to say. 

Lo'ak and Kiri looked at their brother in a sympathetic way, as Tuk sat beside him, leaning on Neteyam's side, listening into the conversation.

Yeah, I see you baby

Just don't lose yourself along the way

"Neteyam I am coming with you." You walked behind you, demanding that he brought you with him and his family. Neteyam was walking around his tent, packing his stuff up as they would depart soon after the ceremony. 

Neteyam huffed and looked behind him, where you stood. "No, you stay here and be the clan's Tsahik, without your talent the people will have no one when my grandmother passes." 

You furrowed your brows, of course you knew that you had to give up the role as future Tsahik, but what good would a broken hearted Tsahik be? If she couldn't heal her own heart, how will she heal others? 

Neteyam was gonna be your mate as soon as you two turned 18. He was next in line for the role of Olo'eyktan.

"I'm coming with you and that's final." You turned around and started walking out of the tent, heading towards yours so you could pack your own stuff. Before you could even exit Neteyam grabbed your hand. 

He took a hold of them, holding your hands in his own. "Please, I can't have the sky people hunting you down too."

You looked down, staying silent. It was true and you couldn't deny it, the clan was bound to get attacked at least once more. The current Tsahik, Neteyam's grandmother, also known as Mo'at would not be able to heal everyone even if there were other healers in the clan.

Mo'at taught you more advanced stuff as you were more skilled, which is why she had picked you as the next Tsahik.

You hissed in frustration and yanked your hand back from him.

 "I will come with you, maybe not at the same time but I will be there. Of course there's consequences but I'm willing to take them." 

And with that you ran out as fast as you can, leaving Neteyam in the dust.

Cause you're doing what you're doing

Just to get to where you're going

"If we took her she'd be in danger too." Lo'ak spoke up for Neteyam after seeing how quiet his brother had gotten. The others nodded understanding the reasoning behind it, as they didn't want to push into the conversation even further.

Kiri sighed and patted Neteyam's shoulders as an attempt to comfort him. 

"Do not worry too much brother, you too will reunite someday."

As night fell in the reef, the group parted, walking in opposite directions towards their own shared Marui. The Sully siblings had a quiet walk back to their Family's home. The most noise they had was Tuk yelling at them to slow down so her tiny legs could catch up. 

As soon as they entered through the makeshift flap they all went to their hammocks after greeting their parents. 

Neteyam laid silently, swaying side to side as his family were conversing with each other about their day. 

The uncommon silence from Jake and Neytir's oldest child set an unsettling feeling in them.

Neytiri turned to the other kids looking for some explanation.

With a sigh Lo'ak spoke up when he heard his brother's breathing slowing down signaling that he was finally asleep. 

"He was talking about y/n again."

But I knew

The girl with the tattoo

"Teyam!!" 

The young warrior looked up from sharpening his fishing spear only to find his youngest sister running towards him with a bright grin on her face. He suddenly noticed the loud noise coming out of a shell, signaling the clan that someone new arrived on shore. Neteyam peered down at Tuk in curiosity. "What is it Tuk?"

"Please Teyam you need to see this."

The young girl grabbed her brother's hand and dragged him towards the crowd of people forming a circle around someone. It reminded him of the first time his family arrived. 

Neteyam heard a familiar loud roar. It was an ikran

He hurriedly walked closer to the crowd, pushing some people aside to get a better look. 

His eyes traveled to the darker blue skinned female with long braided hair. He noticed the unique clothes she wore that complimented her other features. He noticed how crystals decorated her hair and how a single colorful feature was nearly placed in one strand.

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on the black ink swirling around her upper right arm.

He watched you squint your eyes, scanning through the crowd to get a closer look at people, finally stopping once your eyes landed on him.

"Neteyam?"

Oh how he loved hearing you say his name again.

Oh yeah, I knew

The girl with the tattoo

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part seven

“you flower, you feast”

A/N: okay, okay so this chapter took WAY longer than planned, but between my birthday traveling and work just being poop, I didn’t have any motivation. Well, the inspo hit, and it hit HARD 🤭 I’m so unbelievably happy with how this chapter turned out and I hope you all enjoy it! 💘

~word count: 5.0k~

Summary: what happens when Joel and Tommy Miller eat chicken wings in front of you, baby love? You start picturing yourself as that chicken wing, being split open, meat sucked clean from the bone—

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader x pornstar!tommy

Warnings: smut, consent, fluff, relationship security, established relationship, fingering, oral (f! And m! receiving) face riding, bush love! , f!masturbation, sexual tension, cock dumb, pussy drunk vibes, teasing, filth, praise kink, daddy kink go brrrrp, threesome (Joel and Tommy do NOT touch. Please don’t be weird 😭) pussy pronouns, sharing is caring, Joel’s dom side comes out to play, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, reader, Joel and Tommy are pornstars, readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical desertions such as skin tone, height etc. NSFW, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Joel & baby love by @kenobiwanx

“Baby love, Tommy and I are gonna go run out and grab the food, okay? Probably gonna be 30 minutes tops.” Joel said from the kitchen where he was grabbing the keys to his truck.

“Sounds good!” You chirped from the living room, deep in an erotica novel that one of your followers had recommended to you. The main character was just about to get fucked into a new dimension by her boyfriend and his hot brother— “Artemis!” You giggled, scolding her softly when she jumped right onto the page you were reading and swatted playfully at the paper.

You heard Joel’s approaching footsteps alongside the couch when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips and then one to the top of Artemis’s head as you looked up at him, “think we’re gonna stop and get a case of beer as well. I’ll text ya when we’re on the way back, ‘Kay?”

You reached your hand up, curling it around his jaw and pulled him in for another kiss.

“Christ. Y’all really need to get a room.” Tommy snickered from the entryway, broad arms crossed over his chest.

Joel grinned against your lips, kissing you one last time before he reluctantly pulled away. “Shut your trap, Tommy.” He said playfully and gave Artemis a quick pet behind her ears.

“Fuck off, you twathead.” Tommy quipped back.

Joel gave him the finger and tossed the keys in his direction, “jus’ for that, your ass is driving!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He caught the keys, twirling the ring between his fingers, “be back in a jiffy, baby love!” Tommy singsonged.

You swore you heard Joel mutter under his breath, “hey, only I can call her baby love.”

You listened to the front door swing shut, and Joel and Tommy’s usual banter before Joel’s truck peeled down the driveway. You set the book down on the coffee table with the page you left off on dog eared and carefully picked up Artemis and placed her on the spot you were just sitting on with the blanket. Now that you had a bit of time to kill…what better way to spend it than getting yourself off.

Before Tommy had come over, you and Joel discussed the prospect of the three of you filming a threeway scene. Joel left everything up to you and how you wanted it to play out. You ultimately decided that you didn’t want to plan for it, and would rather have the moment be completely based on spontaneity. So, while you used one of your favorite vibrators, gifted by Joel of course, you picked one of your favorite MMF videos on the Miller-Co website to get off to. It was one of Joel and Tommy’s first videos that they filmed after leaving Brazzers. You immediately recognized the familiar couch in Joel’s garage while you settled back against the pillows of your shared bed, thighs spread, arousal and slick already pooling between your folds.

When 30 minutes came and went, Joel texted you saying that the food was taking longer than expected and that the restaurant was super busy. Usually you would respond almost immediately, but 10 minutes had gone by and you hadn’t responded to his message.

He couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his lips as he typed out, you there, baby love?

No response.

“I bet she’s playin’ with her pussy right now an’ that’s why she ain’t responding. Naughty girl.” Tommy tsked under his breath as he peeked over at Joel’s phone from the drivers seat.

“Mmm…that’s exactly what she’s doin’ right now. She was reading’ some erotica book right before we left. Didn’t get a look at the page, but m’sure it was juicy.” Joel responded, sinking further against the passenger seat.

“Fuck. We gonna play with her a bit when we get back?” Tommy tapped his knuckles along the steering wheel, glancing down at time on the dashboard.

“Oh, we will be. S’what my baby love wants. She’s thirstin’ for both of us, Tommy.”

“Goddamn. Is she really? This food better hurry the fuck up then. Gonna start gettin’ impatient jus’ thinkin’ about—hey!” He let out a surprised grunt when Joel had whacked him on the side of the head.

“Patience, you horndog.” Joel scolded him.

“Call her. See if she picks up. Wanna know if my theory was right.”

“What?”

“Y’heard me. Call ‘er up. See if she answers.” Tommy reiteratedeagerly.

“Fine, fine, but she ain’t gonna answer.” Joel knew you better than that and if you were on the brink of an orgasm, you sure as fuck weren’t going to answer your phone. He dialed your number anyway, and it rang three times before going to voicemail. “Told ya. She’s too busy playin’ with herself.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy scoffed.

You were on the edge of having a mind numbing, toe curling orgasm when you heard the familiar roll of Joel’s truck tires in the driveway and as soon as your mindset switched, your orgasm was delayed and frustration began to settle deep into your bones as you cursed under your breath, clicking the button on the vibrator off and tossed it to the side of the bed with a huff.

“I was this fucking close.” You grumbled to yourself, taking a moment to catch your breath when you heard the front door open.

“Baby love, food’s here!” Joel’s voice traveled from downstairs and straight up to your pulsing core. “Where ya at, pretty girl?”

Did he know what you were just doing? He couldn’t have—right?

“Coming!” You responded back, your voice wavering when you thought about the possibility of him coming upstairs and catching you like this.

Joel and Tommy exchanged a knowing look as they set the bag of food down on the kitchen table. “Take your time, sweetheart! Ain’t no reason to rush!” Tommy said with a smirk tugging on his lips.

You threw on your flimsy tank top over your head and pulled your cotton shorts over your trembling thighs with your lower lip caught between your teeth. You checked your appearance in the mirror, looking a little disheveled with a noticeable sheen of sweat coating your neck and chest. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks in tandem, as you grabbed your phone from the bedside.

Joel was waiting for you at the foot of the stairs and once you were at arm's length, his strong biceps wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his warm embrace. He kissed you sweetly, one hand dropping down to grab a handful of your ass in his palm. You nearly moaned into his mouth, managing to hold it back. When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes flickered southwards, zoning in on the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin and the edges of his lips curved upwards. “Sorry for the delay, baby love. The wait was longer than we anticipated.” He rasped softly.

Between his calloused palm groping your ass, and his lingering stare, your stomach was doing somersaults, and your pussy was chanting: Yes, Joel! Right here. Take us right here. Right now. Against the staircase! C’mon, big boy.

“Baby, why are you looking at me like…you wanna eat me right now?” You whispered softly to him, letting your hand curve around his bicep.

“Like I wanna eat you right now?” He mused, “Baby love, I always wanna eat you up.” He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Lemme watch f’you guys are gonna fuck against the staircase.” Tommy snickered from the kitchen table where he had already plated out his food and cracked open a beer, taking a swig from the bottle, his eyebrows raising in a mischievous manner.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks from Tommy’s crude comment as images of Joel bending you over the railing and fucking you from behind while Tommy watched flooded your mind.

“Cat got your tongue, baby love?” Joel murmured, smirk still playing on his lips.

“No.” You shook your head, squeezing his bicep gently. “I’m just starving.”

You were a fool to think that your temptations would dissipate as you and Joel sat down at the kitchen table across from Tommy. If anything, they were heightened when you were forced to watch both brothers demolish their chicken wings, sucking the meat right off the bone effortlessly.

They’re doing this on purpose. They have to be, right?

The longer you watched the two brothers ravenously eating their chicken wings, the damper the fabric of your cotton shorts grew. The blooming wet patch was evident, and your mouth was parched when you watched Joel suck the meat from the chicken wing bone clean off again. He twisted and split the delicate wing bones right down the middle, hollowing his cheeks slightly as he sucked the meat clean from the bone, making an obscene slurping noise in the process. He paid no mind to the figurative daggers you were sending him when he used his thumb to wipe a stray dribble of sauce from the corner of his lips and sucked it right into his mouth. The way he devoured those wings immediately made you think of the way he would mold and press you open at his leisure, mouth and tongue sloppy on your cunt, eating you like you were quite literally his last meal on earth.

“Can you guys…stop eating like that?”

“Pardon?” Tommy looked directly across the table at you, plucking the meat clean from the bone, brow raised in amusement.

“Like…that.” You reiterated and subtly squeezed your thighs together beneath the table.

“Sorry, baby love. You’re gonna have to explain what you mean by that.” Joel chimed in alongside you, taking a swig of his beer.

Your nostrils flared and your knuckles clenched tightly around either side of your chair. They absolutely were toying with you on purpose, and you were just waiting for the chord to be pulled so tight, that it would inevitably snap from the pressure.

“You feelin’ alright over there, sweetheart? Can see the sweat drippin’ off ya from here.” Tommy commented with a sly grin. “Somethin’ wrong with the way Joel and I are eating our wings?”

Yeah, well, there’s more than just sweat dripping off of me,Tommy- is what you really wanted to say.

“Feeling just peachy, Tommy. Nothing wrong with the way you guys are eating your wings.” You lied through your teeth.

“Hmmm.” Joel hummed alongside you and his freehand creeped towards your thigh, fingers flexing and you could feel his phantom touch before he even made contact with your hot skin. “Sure you ain’t…feelin’ a little frustrated, baby love?”

Oh fuck. He knows. He knows

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ for emphasis, but neither Joel or Tommy were convinced at your attempted bluff.

“You sure about that, baby love? S’okay if you are.” He leaned in, hot breath fanning your face when you felt his fingers brush against the apex of your thighs, coaxing them open. “Were you touching yourself while we were gone, baby love? Hmm?”

Busted.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks in tandem, and your thighs clench from his words. You didn’t want this little game to end so soon, you were determined to build up the anticipation even further. “No, baby.” You shook your head, “I wasn’t touching myself while you and Tommy were gone.”

Tommy’s interest in the conversation was immediately piqued when you were quick to deny Joel’s accusations, and he reminded you of a predator stalking its prey in the tall grass from the way he was looking at you.

“No?” Joel pouts, tsking under his breath as he continues his ministrations. “How wet do you think she is right now, Tommy? On a scale from 1-10.” He briefly looks across the table before you feel his eyes searing into the side of your head once more.

“10, easy. She’s practically squirmin’ in her seat right now, and you haven’t even started to touch her yet.” Tommy rasped with a chuckle, leaning back against the seat of the chair. “Bet she’s so wet that there’s a damp spot right through the fabric.” He mused.

“How do you feel about his answer, baby love? Think you’re that wet right now? Think I should…have a look for myself? What do ya think I’m gonna find beneath these ‘lil cotton shorts of yours, naughty girl?”

Fuuck.

Your eyes lingered on Joel’s face, and then over to Tommy as you harshly took your lower lip between your teeth, spreading your thighs further so he had easier access to feel the heat of your core through the thin, strained fabric. “I—I think that’s accurate, baby.” You let out a huff of air through your nose, heat steadily rising up your cheeks. “You know exactly what you’re gonna find under my shorts, Joel. How about we just…skip the theatrics, and you take them off so Tommy can get a good view of my wet little pussy?”

He chuckled, leaning over the short distance between your chair and his, nudging his nose against your jaw, nipping at your skin, a growl edging up his throat, “Yeah? That’s what you want me to do, sweet girl? You wanna show my brother jus’ how fuckin’ wet you are right now? He’d love that, baby love…” he trailed off, thinking of what he was going to say next, “can’t do that m’fraid.” His lips curved downwards in a plush pout.

“Why the hell not?” You whined, feeling your frustrations begin to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

“Gotta clean my hands first, baby love.” He snickered, fully planning on grabbing the nearest napkin to wipe the wings sauce from his fingers. Instead, you took matters into your own hands, er—mouth, and grabbed his hand, swiftly yanking it towards your mouth. He watched with hooded eyes when you wasted no time to suck his thick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around each one, licking them clean, eyes locked in an intense stare with him.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Tommy let out a groan from where he was sitting, unable to tear his eyes away from your pretty lips working around Joel’s fingers. “I ain’t gonna fuckin’ survive this night.” He said out loud, fully intending to keep that thought to himself.

“Jus’ wait till you feel her mouth around your cock, brother. You’ll never be able to look at head the same way again after she—fuck.” He hissed between his teeth when he felt your teeth lightly drag across the underside of his fingers.

“Oh, I believe it, but m’gonna combust o’here if I don’t get a taste of her sweet fuckin’ pussy, I swear to god—”

“Yeah, and I’m going to kill both of you if someone doesn’t fucking start touching me in the next five seconds.” You mumbled around Joel’s fingers, slowly slipping them from your mouth and guided them between your thighs. “Please.” You added sweetly.

“You’re gonna sit there and tell me that you didn’t fuckin’ eat her out in your truck? Goddammit, Tommy. Who the hell raised ya, huh?” Joel tsked under his breath and with his fingers now freshly soaked in your saliva, he pressed them firmly against your covered clit. “Her pussy is the neediest lil’ thing, and you missed the fuck out.”

You pressed your hips directly against Joel’s fingers, desperate for more stimulation than he was already providing you, and even when his fingers began to slowly circle your clit in a figure eight motion, that still wasn’t enough.

“Well, I got the perfect opportunity to make it up to her, don’t I? Ain’t no time like the present!” Tommy chuckled, wiping his hands off on a napkin before he slowly sank to his knees under the table, crawling on all fours till he found himself right between your thighs, peering up at you through onyx black, thick curls that were momentarily obstructing his view. “Cus’ the way that I see it? There’s never not an ideal time to eat pussy.” He mused, shooting you a playful and suggestive wink while his big hands creeped up the expanse of your thighs and grasped the hem of your shorts.

Joel looked over at you expectantly, admiring your side profile and the way that your tongue darted out to lick your lips, pupils dilating, flickering down to Tommy’s smirking expression between your spread thighs.

“How’s that sound to you, baby love? Hmm? You want Tommy to eat your pretty little pussy out under the table? I think he wants it really, really, bad, baby.” He chuckled warmly against the shell of your ear, pausing the ministrations of his fingers just as a low whine escaped your throat at the loss of contact.

Instead of taking the route of verbally responding, you let your desire and frustration take the wheel front and center. You reached for the back of Tommy’s head, carding your fingers through his lustrous curls and yanked his face directly against your covered, pulsing cunt. Joel’s fingers moved in tandem, sliding up the curve of your body, his big veiny hand came to rest along the base of your throat, thick fingers splayed out around your neck like a necklace.

“Oh,” he cooed, “my baby wants it really, really, bad, huh?”

“Course I fucking do. The two of you have riled me up since the second you got back with the food.” You stated the obvious tension growing between the three of you.

Your eyes met his sultry gaze, narrowing into slits when he leaned in for a chaste kiss, lips brushing, fingers flexing against the thin, delicate skin of your throat. He licks into your mouth, stealing the very breath from your lungs just as Tommy greedily sucked on the damp patch of fabric, drawing the flat side of his tongue through it, groaning, hands pressing you open further, broad nose bumping against your covered clit.

“Yeah, she fuckin’ wants it. Been drippin’ this whole fuckin’ time.” Tommy mumbled between your thighs, his saliva and hot breath causing the wet patch through the fabric to bloom more. “Can I fuckin’ take these off of ya baby, please? Need to get a full look at her. Bet she’s so fuckin’ puffy n’sensitve right now.” He rasped, sucking inwards, nipping playfully at the fabric that obstructed him from seeing all of you.

Between Joel’s head spinning kisses, and his underlying possessive nature of what was his, you broke from the kiss momentarily. “Please fucking take them off, Tommy.” Words breathless, diving back into his eager awaiting mouth. You never got tired of the way that Joel Miller kissed you. It was like that of an art form, an erotic dance that would send even the most stoic faces feeling flustered just from the sight of the two of you.

His eyes peeled open briefly to steal a glance of your now bare pussy, to see your little hole pulse, drooling a trail of pearlescent slick along the wooden chair that sent both men’s cocks twitching, awakening like two feral street mutts that were just given a plated, rare steak on a silver platter; you being the steak.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” The Miller brothers murmured in unison as if they were in a trance from that pulsing spot between your thighs. You never felt more turned on in your life than in this moment under their adoration filled gazes.

Joel stole your attention once more kissing you with more ferocity when your freehand reached across the chair, palming his hardening cock through the confines of his loose shorts. His hips shifted against your palm, rolling in a languid movement in comparison to his lips on yours. He groaned freely into your mouth, wet hot breath gliding across your tastebuds, the girth of his cock growing heavier, and heavier.

Tommy spread you open further with his pointer and middle finger. He marveled at how wet you truly were, getting an up close look at just how puffy the soft lips of your pussy were getting. He wolf whistled, inhaling the scent of your arousal before he spat a thick glob of saliva right over your clit, rubbing it in with your growing slick. “Fuckin’ Christ. Wettest lil’ pussy i’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

A strained moan escaped past your interlocked lips when Tommy began to lap between your folds, jaw slack, eyes shut in pure bliss at the tangy, yet sweet taste of you on his tongue. He groaned deeply against your mound, licking from the entrance of your weeping hole all the way up to your clit, swirling the tip of his tongue in a figure eight motion, nose buried against the soft patch of curls that Joel would often lightly pet and play with. Joel loved the fact that you made the personal choice to not shave your pubic hair. (He’d love you just the same if you did, of course)

Joel’s breaths came out as soft pants against your locked lips, his kisses became more desperate when the head of his cock drooled a bead of precum through the slit, staining a wet patch through the front of his shorts. He was fully hard beneath your touch, tenting against the fabric.

“Move your chair closer to me, baby.” You mumbled against his lips, teeth lightly nipping at his lower lip eliciting a low rasp from deep within his throat to emerge, sending a warm tingle straight down to your pulsing core.

And while Tommy was off in his own little pussy drunk world, switching from focusing the movements of his tongue against your clit, to dragging it southwards, curling it inside of your weeping little hole, lapping up your sweet nectar as if he was a bee on a freshly bloomed flower. Joel wordlessly scooted his chair closer to yours, lips breaking from the kiss momentarily and when he moved his head to kiss you once more, you leaned over the side of your chair completely, eagerly dropping your face down to his spread thighs. A layer of his natural musk seeped in through your nose as you dragged your nose against the outline of his cock, listening to the sound of his breath hitching in his throat when you pressed open mouthed, hungry, wet kisses against the strained fabric.

You moaned wantonly when two of Tommy’s thick fingers slowly pressed into your tight opening, gradually sinking deeper till your walls had sucked his fingers all the way down to his knuckles.

“Oh, fuck me.” You heard Tommy mutter with a mouthful of pussy, “So fuckin’ tight, it’s unbelievable.” He shallowly began to pump his fingers, curling them against that soft spongy spot deep inside of you that had your eyes rolling back into your skull. Your hips rolled into his face, feeling the scrape of his beard against your inner thighs. Your lips moved in a frantic motion, sucking, kissing Joel’s cock through the fabric. All it took was for your eyes to flicker upwards towards his face, pupils blown wide, lashes fluttering for him to give in.

“Jesus, baby.” Joel breathed out, nostrils flaring, the veins in his broad neck protruding through the skin, “ok, ok, I’ll take it out for you, my eager girl.” He hummed appreciatively, lips curving upwards into a boyish grin as he reached his hand down beneath the band of his shorts, grasping the base of his cock in his fist and finally freed himself from the confines. His cock sprang up against his stomach, and you wasted no time to drag your tongue from the base all the way up the soft, velvety skin of his girth till you reached the crown of his cock and enveloped the engorged, mushroom head around your lips, swirling your tongue across his slit to collect the bead of precum, swallowing down the taste of him greedily.

He let out a soft grunt, head tilting back slowly, lower lip caught between his teeth as he relaxed further into the chair. He kept one hand firmly grasped around the base of his cock, holding himself steady just for you. While his other hand rested against the crown of your head, gently petting your hair while a tumble of praises slipped past his lips, “Fuuck, baby love. That feels s’good.” He rasped.

You preened at your man’s praise, focusing all of your attention on the head of his cock, placing your hand on top of his, slowly guiding his fist to pump and twist around the girth of him. And when you felt that coil deep within your tummy being pulled tight, and glowing red hot due to Tommy’s ministrations, you eased your mouth off of Joel, little mewls and pants slipping past your lips as you briefly looked over to see Tommy slowly begin to press a third finger alongside the two that were deliciously working inside of you. “Fuck,” you moaned, focusing your attention back on Joel, and lovingly slapped your tongue with the head of his cock, and then your cheek, gazing up at him with those big eyes of yours, entrancing him further.

Joel loved when you gave him the sloppiest head imaginable, when your drool would run down your chin and neck, mouth and throat stuffed with his cock, pretty tears springing along your waterline because he was so fucking thick. But the sight before him now could have easily sent him to an early grave. He watched you lovingly slap your cheek with the head of his cock, blissed out, smiling from ear to ear, and he wished he had his phone right now just so he could take a picture and show you how pretty you looked like this.

“You gonna come all over his fuckin’ fingers, baby love? Get ‘em all nice and creamy? Your pussy sounds so so pretty. Gettin’ her nice and ready for our cocks, hmm?” He cooed, voice dropping down an octave as his eyes flitted downwards between your thighs, listening to the delicious squelch of Tommy’s fingers fucking you open.

“Fuck yeah she is.” Tommy chimed in, pulling his face back, his chin and beard coated in your slick. He watched the way your pussy continued to hug and drag his fingers in further with each shallow thrust. “Pretty lil’ slutty pussy fuckin’ loves havin’ three fingers shoved inside of her. Ain’t that right, babygirl? God, you should see how fuckin’ pretty n’ puffy she is right now.” He rasped, pussy drunk, cock heavy between his thighs and harder than a slab of concrete. “Let’s see how soaked you can get my fingers sugar, and then you’re gonna watch, mouth stuffed with my brothers cock while I fuckin’ suck them clean.”

“Shit.” You whimpered, rubbing Joel’s heavy cock all over your face, leaving sloppy kisses here and there, “yeah, I fucking love it so much, daddy. Feels so good! I’m so close—I’m gonna come all over your fingers, daddy.”

“Yeah you are, babygirl. You’re gonna cream all over them like the good, slutty lil’ girl that daddy knows you are.” Tommy preened, pumping his fingers faster, the muscles in his forearm flexing from the movement, lips sloppily attaching to your stimulated clit, sucking on the little bud harshly.

Joel himself wasn’t usually turned on by the prospect of being called daddy, but hearing you freely moan and come undone around his brother's fingers, and call him daddy? Well, it did something to your man and he let you know immediately how he was feeling by firmly tapping the wet head of his cock against your cheek to refocus your attention on him. “Eyes up here, pretty girl. Eyes on me. Your daddy.” He sternly rasped, lips curved in a grin, brows furrowed intently.

All time seemed to cease when Joel fucking Miller referred to himself as your daddy. Your pretty, slicked covered, glistening lips parted in shock, pupils blown wide, pussy clenching down like a vice around Tommy’s fingers. You met Joel’s stern gaze, watching the way his brow slowly arched, head mockingly tilted to the side, “Yes, daddy.” You whimpered, “I—I won’t forget.”

“Thas’ right, baby love. Keep lookin’ at your daddy with those pretty eyes. Keep ‘em on me, not him. Me.” There was an underlying possessive tone to his words and the weight they held on you. But god, you had never felt more proud of him testing out these new uncharted waters with you, playing into your kinks. You mouthed, “I love you, daddy.” Before slipping his cock right back down your throat, taking as much of him as you could till you were gagging around him, tears welling from the thick girth of his cock stretching your throat open, and your orgasm crashing through you like a freight train.

“That’s it, babygirl!” Tommy preened excitedly when your sweet pussy squeezed around his fingers, coating them in your pearlescent release. “Good fuckin’ girl. You got anymore f’me? C’mon, gimme a lil’ more of your sugar, babygirl.” His mouth made an obscene slurping sound through your folds, shaking his head back and forth while you leaked out along his fingers and down his palm. He slipped his fingers out slowly, your fucked out little hole pushing out what was left of your orgasm to which he greedily lapped it up, moaning at the taste of you.

Joel softly praised you, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, murmuring how much he loved you, gazing at you lovingly and in tandem his brain was screaming: ring, ring, ring. I need a fucking ring!

“Makin’ your daddy so proud, baby love. Did so good f’him.” He cooed, and his big palm rested around your face, slowly easing his cock from your throat and guiding you up towards his face. He kissed you sweetly, licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue, cradling your face so delicately, so tenderly, you couldn’t help but moan through the kiss.

Tommy sat back along his haunches, fingers stuffed down his mouth, licking them clean not wanting any of your sweet cream to be wasted. His own cock was leaking through his shorts, desperate for any kind of touch or stimulation.

Your words fell breathlessly against Joel’s lips, fingers tangling and tugging through his soft curls, “I think your brother might have you beat, daddy.” You said half jokingly, half serious.

Joel and Tommy Miller were competitive men by nature, and whether you had meant to or not, you had just unleashed the feral, competitive beasts within them without even realizing it.

Well, as they all say,

good luck, baby love. You and your pussy are gonna need it!

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[gloryy-vs]

Omg can I pleaseeeee request overprotective neteyam keeping the creeps away from his girl?

I just want a protective bf😭

||

yes. you’re just like me fr 🤭

characters: neteyam x reader

ratings: sfw, fluffy, protective/possessive neteyam

||

Eye On It

Neteyams hand was firmly placed on your lower back, his fingers pressing down harder each time a wandering eye from another Na’vi found its way to your frame. He was extremely gentle with you, always tending to your needs no matter the situation, but when it came to other people he grew protective and almost aggressive towards them if they had anything negative to say about you, or anything inappropriate.

You two sat next to each other amongst other Na’vi, everyone taking time during the feast that usually occurred during eclipse. You were thoroughly enjoying your platter of berries and ripened fruit, but the 8 foot man next to you seemed to be on edge. You side eyed him, seeing he held a forest fruit in his other hand that wasn’t on you. Neteyam didn’t even take a bit of it yet, his amber eyes were trained on something across for you. Your eyes darted to the direction, seeing two boys nervously eating, avoiding all eye contact with you and instead bowing their heads every time they looked up and still say Neteyam staring into their soul.

The boy to the left looked up and you locked eyes with him for a second too long, and he smiled out of embarrassment. You gave him an awkward smile, and felt Neteyams hand instantly leave your lower back. He stood up, inconspicuously marching towards the group, his braids swaying with each step. The two boys stood up defensively, dropping their fruits and raising their arms up. Neteyam shoved the one that looked at you, his face filled with anger. “Back. Off.” Your own eyes widened in shock, not knowing how to process the aggression radiating from your mate. You could tell the other Na’vi people noticed, and heard their whispers consisting of, ‘They finally got what was coming to them.’ Or a, ‘Those skxawngs disrespected her again, didn’t they?’ Nobody seemed to bat an eye at Neteyams outburst, they thought it was well deserved.

Your mate walked back after he forced the group of young boys to leave, and he took his seat next to you, finally eating his share of food. “Nete, my love. What was the meaning of that?” You said, your accent thick as you leaned into him. Your eyes were glazed in confusion, he turned his head to you. “All month, they have been giving you the rudest, most disgusting gestures I’ve seen.” He scrunched his nose up, agitated at the mere thought. “Tonight was the last straw for them. They won’t bother you again..” Neteyam turned his head back to his food, taking a few more bites. You sat there, your arms dropping down as you began to recall ever seeing them. “My love, I don’t recall them-” He cut you off.

“Behind your back. All of it. They mimicked crude and sexual gestures, stared at the way you walked ahead of me. I tell them off and they would continue every other day. Don’t worry about it, you’re safe with me.” He said. You figured he wouldn’t want to go into more detail, and you’re glad he didn’t let it go unnoticed. You scooted closer to Neteyam, letting your thigh touch his while your head dropped down to his shoulder. He sighed contently, tearing off some of his food for you, feeding it to you while feeding himself. His head rested on top of yours, glad he could finally keep you safe and away from scoundrels like them.

[crescencestudio]

ENDING HOT GIRL SUMMER WITH A BANG

Druk's Beta is OUT!!

AND WITH THE END OF HOT GIRL SUMMER COMES OUR OTHER HOT GIRL: DRUK! This month we have a guest art commissioned by Minthe. Please feast and appreciate as you enjoy his beta route, which is now OUT and ready to play! This build covers all of Druk's route and includes:

Over 50k words spanning over 6 chapters

5 CGs

Lots of tension, jokes, and a five course meal to A5 Wagyu BEEF (aka Druk. There is no actual wagyu in the game, I apologize to wagyu fans)

A friends-to-lovers relationship

And much more that I don't want to spoil 🤭

Celebrate the end of hot girl summer with a hot DOG!

Per usual, the build will be available for a limited amount of time before being taken down and we enter beta access for Etza. So if you are interested in playing Druk route for beta access, now is your only chance!

Head on over and support Patreon to get access (Tier: Hydra)!

[vagabond-umlaut]

parterre

Lord Nanami is a knight, yes. A very esteemed one at that. But does anyone know he is an impressive gardener too? Well, he is— for he is the one, who caused these many flowers of these many hues to bloom in the landscape of your heart— so much so that you've not the slightest idea on how to manage them all well.

▸ knight!Nanami x lady-in-waiting!Reader; Historical AU; Tons of Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Crushes; Pining [is it mutual, however?]; Jealousy; Misunderstandings; Teasing; Did I already say this is so sweetly fluffy, you might end up with cavities? Oh. Okay. Cool :); Reader is so terribly down bad for Nanami, it's become a matter of mild concern; She is called a harmless little nickname by the princess here; THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN AS A LITTLE CELEBRATORY GIFT TO NANAMI NATION, AFTER THE FEAST THAT JJK 2.12 WAS FOR Y'ALL ;))

▸ Behold, the thesis I mentioned to you last night, Julie my sweetest pie. 🤭🤭🤭 Hope you'll enjoy reading this! 🫶🫶 @nanamikentoseyebags

▸ I don't own the characters or image used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. Enjoy reading! ❤️

Nanami Kento is no simple man. He is one crafted wondrously by the heavens. A veritable evidence, if there ever were any, of the existence of some greater being— powerful enough to make a man such as the knight. Merciful enough to make him live in the same time frame and place as you do.

A wistful sigh falls past your lips as you begrudgingly tear your focus away from the training grounds and direct it to the scalding coffee at hand, though it takes but two mere two seconds before you find your eyes darting to the open window yet again– skimming over the many heads out there– wanting to find only one blond head– heart beating far too many beats when you hear the name of its owner being yelled out once again—

The utterance of your title in court drags you away from your frantic search, to the mildly smiling face of the princess: Sleepy, yes– But a lot more awake than she was five minutes ago. You rush to offer her your greetings, only to stop when she lifts a finger and tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed a pinch.

"That was Kento's name being hollered, wasn't it, Petals?"

You aren't certain which infuriates you more— that the princess used your childhood nickname well into your adulthood– or that she called Knight Nanami by his first name, a privilege he is known to grant to a very select few—

Compelling your face to shift into a smile, you nod. "I'm afraid it was, Your Highness."

"And was it yet another lady cheering for his victory in a match, huh?" she queries, kicking the covers off her feet and landing onto the floor with a loud thud. Wincing lightly, you quickly shake your head 'no'.

"It wasn't, Your Highness. The voice sounded much like Lord Haibara."

A quiet hum comes in response to your observation– soon shadowed over by the off-key singing of rather... indelicate songs, you're certain no one of an upbringing as royal and guarded as your princess should know— before the lyrics pause– all of a sudden– the moment she sits down at the table and looks out the window.

At the ongoing duel between Nanami and Geto, swords clanging and their bare chests shining in the early morn sun.

The very sight making every drop of blood in your vessels to rush to your cheeks, flooding them with colour– whilst your gaze roves with no trace of shame over the well-built physique of the solemn blond– lingering in particular on the toned muscle of his arms and forearms, flexing and extending as his fingers grasp the hilt of the weapon and the muscles in his legs strain against the tight fabric of his slacks, as the knight moves in a spell-binding dance of danger and tact against his opponent.

A huff of a chuckle escapes you when the former lands a solid hit on the latter; no one can match him in his prowess at wielding a sword; making a tendril of pride unfurl in the centre of your chest, only for it to shrivel in the heat of envy the princess' chortle ignites in that very same place.

You make no efforts to stop the words tumbling out your mouth next. Nor the tense frown which nestles into your tinted lips, throwing your face into lines and ridges.

"Is Lord Nanami courting you, Your Highness?"

"What!?!?" Not even an instant elapses before the exclamation leaves your listener. You continue, pretending to be unperturbed by the way innumerable shades of shock and incredulity colour her countenance.

"I mean, you call him by his first name, and he too does the same for you. Besides, the both of you have often been spotted to be strolling in the gardens together, easily chatting and smiling... not to mention the ball held last winter solstice when you two entered the ball, side-by-side— it is not only me who me who wonders so, milady," you add when you notice her back straigthening and she returning the cup to the saucer, "The court is rife with suppositions, on the nature of your relationship with Lord Nanami."

A beat passes in tense silence in response to your expressed musings— before the hush is disrupted by a very grave-sounding query, from the lady across. "What do you look for in a future life partner, Petals?"

"Me?" you ask, index finger pointed at yourself.

The princess gives a nod. "Yes, you, Your Grace."

Your nose wrinkles at such ill-considered usage of such high-ranking titles— nevertheless, you find yourself brushing those concerns away to mull over much more important matters...

A good while passes before you form a reply. Focus zeroing on a tiny coffee stain on your dress, you begin.

"Someone who is calm and collected, stoic and serious. He should be strong too, not just in brawn but in brain and matters of heart as well. He must be strict and disciplined, but must have a gentle, caring side to him too. Won't hurt if he's a traditional romantic, giving me flowers and sweet compliments instead of the terrible comments men say to the ladies these days. And..."

You trail off, losing yourself in your mind, before resuming, in a muted murmur this time, "It might be really nice if he lets me be of those few who can call him by his name– and he becomes comfortable enough, to call me by my name. And accompany me on walks in the garden in the afternoons. And perhaps, even, ask me to the balls where we may wear matching outfits, and present ourselves as a couple before all."

A hand comes to rest over your folded ones. You look up to find a bit too wide smile resting on the princess' lips. She offers your hands an easing squeeze.

Little does she know it does little to ease your turbulent emotions— a feeling which worsens with the observations she voices to you next.

"I was terrified your beautiful mind was tainted by the disease of idle inquisitiveness, as happens to most in this world with age, you know," she hums, standing up and making you sit in her chair, "I'm very glad to conclude, that's not quite the case. However– I cannot say your so lovely mind is disease-free either, my sweet Petals."

Your brows gather together in confusion as you peer at her, eyes in a narrow stare. She continues– smile growing a touch of tenderness.

"Your mind has been afflicted with the awful ailment of lovesickness. And–" she says, putting greater emphasis on her syllables, when you attempt to protest her statement, "it is usually incurable, unless very great feats of bravery are performed by the patient themselves, or in the off-chance, the fates decide to be helpful and the person behind the mess makes the first move— but I must say, Your Grace, you are very lucky to have me as your consulting physician— for I know what will provide you interim relief until either of them happens— want to know what it is?"

You take a moment to consider before returning a slow, unsure nod.

The princess beams. "It's the knowledge of the fact, there's someone who matches every criteria you mentioned, to a T— and that– he has his eyes reserved for none, except one beautiful lady-in-waiting, who stares at the training ground from the windows of the princess' room every single morning— looking as fresh and vibrant as the nickname, the princess insists on calling her."

Your friend pauses for a beat— not that you really notice it over the thrum of your blood in your ears and your heart in your chest— she inquires, "You understood the prescription, didn't you, Petals?"

A high-pitched squeal– so unseemly, so embarrassed, so jubilant– is the only response you manage, retreating into the cushion, hiding the warmth of your face and the stretch of your smile behind your palms.

▸ masterlist

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Love your writing and I wanted to give you some food for thought, see if it interests you perhaps 🤭 Astarion×Tav is usually about someone smaller in size and maybe a druid or healer, but my character is a tiefling berserk barbarian... with a bigger body size... horns and tail in all their glory... if you are interested I'd love to hear if you'd got some headcanons for a character like this? 💕🙏🏻

Hi! When imagining a bigger f!Tav with Astarion, I can't stop thinking about Gwendolyn Christie (aka Brienne of Tarth) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (aka Jaime Lannister). Look at the photos of them, especially when Gwen wears high-heels (and she also has a husband who is much shorter than her but sews all her dresses to make her the most fabulous 6.3 ft tall woman)

Also, Neil Newbon plays a bigger druid, Tav. He was shocked that she picked Astarion in the first sex scene ^-^

NSFW Version

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x F!BulkyTav

When you hug, Astarion's face is right up against your chest, and he can hear your heartbeat.

Which is soothing to him.

The running water problem is solved! You lift Astarion "bridal style" and put him onto your shoulders to cross the river.

Astarion is grumpy about it every time.

But deep inside, he enjoys it.

Need a better view to aim? Well, you are right here in all your barbarian 6.3 ft. glory!

Astarion can't take his eyes off how graciously you walk with a two-handed ax on your shoulders.

And once you both return to the civilized world, he will get you a dress and high heels.

Because with high heels and a dress, you will look like a gods damn goddess of war!

Is he intimidated by the fact you are taller? Never. You are his big and powerful wife, and he's proud of everything you do!

You are a big spoon, of course. And being wrapped in your hands makes Astarion feel warm and safe.

When in rage, you don't feel pain, and it hurts him to see you wounded and with broken bones

He puts your head on his lap and strokes your hair to soothe you after the battle.

Once, Astarion was caught off guard by vampire hunters who beat him and left him helpless in the sunrise.

You managed to get there right in time to crack the hunters' skulls.

And quickly carry Astarion to the safety and darkness.

Unfortunately, the merciless sun burnt him enough to slow vampire regeneration, and it took Astarion a month to fully recover.

All this time, you nurtured and fed him, telling him stories and legends of your people and only leaving him once you needed to fetch some food for yourself.

Seeing him being able to walk again was the happiest moment of your life.

When he drinks your blood, it's him sitting on your lap.

"You are a messy eater, you know that?" you ask, seeing him covered in your blood.

"You are a terribly messy eater, I hope you know that?" he comments, looking at you eating a boar's leg.

He laughs at you being not so discreet in the wilderness and attracting all sorts of enemies in your journey.

"Darling, you are loud like an ork and have the manners of a giant!"

Once you got so drunk in a feast after killing a dragon, you came to Astarion and started talking different sweet nonsense.

"I want to have silver-curled babies with you. Imagine how fierce they will be!"

Indeed, you are strong and fierce, wearing the heavy armor set, but you are still a woman, a woman Astarion loves and takes care of.

"Wear a helmet, Tav! Last time we had a quest, our half-ork companion used your head as a battering ram! Get the fucking helmet!"

Once, the enemy was too strong, and you ended up severely wounded. The most challenging thing for Astarion was to get rid of the heavy armor on your broken body to carry you to a safe place.

The view of you in pain and agony traumatized him so much he didn't dare to leave your side until you fully recovered.

You want to die in a glorious battle and bards to make songs about you.

Astarion promises you not to step into the sun once you die this glorious death but to make sure every bard and storyteller knows about your deeds and adventures.

But until then...

You have plenty of things to kill!

Hope you enjoyed it!

[onepiece-writer]

His awakening in Wano Kuni

Pairings: gear 5 luffy x gn! Reader

This day is the Gear 5 day! The most epic episodes ever! Got that looney tune vibes in it. To celebrate, i made this just for you. So fasten your sealtbelt and get ready for Luffy to be alive again!

..........

You have just won the fight with a Tobi Roppo, and arrives to the middle of the castle. The castle itself was too confusing for you, and you met Nami, Otama, and Marco waiting for Luffy's victory.

You then saw Otama fill her eyes with tears. How long would Wano be in slavery? She couldn't take it all as a child, and cries on the spot. You saw Nami challenging the Emperor face to face. You agreed with Nami, that must be a lie. Your captain already promised to make a feast on your winning and Jinbe's arrival to the crew.

But when Kaido arrives on the floor saying that Luffy died, you were in denial. After breaking into the enemy's base, and being the only one that could defeat Kaido, how could he die? 

Marco blocked Kaido's attack, saying that no matter what, we must survive at all cost. You didn't hear Luffy's voice either, did he die already? After what he's done to Arlong Park, Arabasta, Skypiea, Enies Lobby, Sabaody, Impel Down, Marineford, Fishman Island, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, Whole Cake Island, and survived all that? You'd be bursting into tears right now, if not suddenly you saw a hand grabbing Kaido.

You feel the strong conqueror Haki coming from the rooftop. It wasn't Kaido, nor the CP-0 agent you saw. It was much stronger than ever. When a rubber hand grabbed Kaido, you saw something magnificent.

A white warrior was seen from up the sky, smiling and shining from the lights of the moon. He wears a white cardigan, outfit like Luffy. You doubted that it was him at first, but were assured when you heard his voice. He's alive at all. 

The castle was burning in flames when your gaze was stuck on him. The straw hat he always wears was put on his back, hanging from the rope Nami sewed in Alabasta. He brings back the hope of the samurai below that almost lost hope, and within beats Kaido's ass to the fullest.

Yamato picks him up from below. He must have been so exhausted that he almost died not once, but twice. He then woke up two days later, to found you worried about him

"Shishishi! Did you see me turning all white?" He lunges himself towards you, smiling as always. "That was so cool, right?"

You nodded, and you couldn't help but gaze at him. Even though he died, with luck he rose from death and beat Kaido. He then eats all the meat that was served. Luffy still shares your food with him, though he still bites it a bit.

hope you enjoy. Im gonna wait for him to come back alive🔥🔥🔥🔥🤭🤭🤭

[anika-ann]

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R. - part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,6k

Summary:  Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

“Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

[zerokurokawa]

Hii

i want to request kakucho x foreign!reader. She takes him with her on trips to her homeland (morocco in this case🤭) and her family embraces him as he’s one of theirs. All of this makes him want to put a ring on that finger even faster..

Thank you for your time and effort btw!

Meeting The Family | Kakucho x Foreign Reader <3

Being from Morocco and living in Japan was quite different than what you had expected. You expected to outcasted and to not have many friends - or even a boyfriend at that. But things turned out in your favor when you met Kakucho, who was as sweet as he could possibly be when it came to you. 

You two had been together for about a year before you decided to take a trip back home to see your family who had been begging to meet Kakucho and learn about your new life. Since you had been attending school, Kakucho was the one who mostly took care of everything when it came to cooking, cleaning, and even running all of the errands after he was done with work. Although you had a part time job as well, he insisted that you focus on your studies first. 

"I'm taking a trip back home to see my family." You said one night while you two were resting on the couch of your now shared apartment since you moved in with him.

"That's great! I'm sure they'll be excited to see you!" He nearly jumped up, thinking this would be the perfect opportunity for you to take a break from work and classes and enjoy yourself. You had been missing your family and he took note of that. 

"...And I want you to come with me!" You exclaimed, pulling out two plane tickets and plopping them in front of him. His face lit up with excitement as he was ecstatic and over the moon to be traveling with you. He had never been out of Japan and was ready to see the world. 

"Really? You want me to meet your family?" He asked, an excited but nervous tone in his voice. 

"Absolutely. They'll love you just as much as I do." You said, leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

_______________________________________________________________

Two weeks from then, you were both boarding the plane to your homeland. Kakucho was visibly nervous, but you quickly shut it down with reassurance that he would be completely fine. The plane landed and you both were greeted at the airport by your mother, father, and siblings. They all ran up to you, engulfing you in hugs and giving you flowers as a welcome home present. Kakucho stood there nervously, as he didn't know what to say or how to act. 

Your mother walked up to him, "So you're the man who's been taking care of my beautiful, wonderful daughter!" She said, with her arms wide open to give him a huge hug. Kakucho nodded his head and smiled, hugging your mother back as your father then shook his hand, greeting him as men normally do for their daughters. 

Once you arrived at your family's house, your mother started to prepare what seemed like a feast for you all. Kakucho nervously asked if he could help and stated that he loved to cook and would love to learn how to cook traditional Moroccan food so that he could cook it at home for you. 

Your mother smiled, "Of course, dear, I'd love to teach you." 

You stood by in the kitchen, watching your mother and Kakucho bond as the rest of the family gathered around, asking him all sorts of questions about his heritage. They had welcomed him with open arms and his nervousness slowly faded away as he was having an amazing time with your family. 

Later that night, while the rest of the family was outside celebrating and talking about your return, Kakucho stepped to the side with you. 

"I just wanted to tell you how much of an amazing time I'm having and that I'm glad you brought me along to meet your family. They are wonderful people." He said, taking a sip of his water. 

"I'm glad they love you, and I'm glad that you love them." A warm smile played across your face as you took the water bottle from him and began to drink. You couldn't help but to be thirsty. 

Kakucho just stared at you in the moonlight as you and your siblings began to joke around and play. He couldn't help but to think about how much he loved you and how he wanted to have many more trips to Morocco with you. Then, his mind wandered to the thought of marrying you. Of course, he would have to make things special for you once you both got back home, but he was secretly planning on buying the ring as soon as you both got settled and surprising you with it. 

It was then, that Kakucho sat and thought, "I'm going to marry this girl." 

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - kwak jiseok

☆彡 sorry for the delay on this one! I gotta wait for the delusions to hit juuust right before I write them LMAOOO hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻

word count: 812 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: all caps used, he’s a stem major (I don’t make the rules), teasing, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!

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IT’S JISEOK TIIIIIMMMEEE

Jiseok doesn’t strike me with the same hardcore “boyfriend agenda” and Jungsu or Seungmin do, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a great boyfriend!!

there would literally never be a dull moment between the two of you

he’s such a good listener

much like Gunil, Jiseok looks at you like you hung the stars when you talk, and he never forgets a single detail

all of your favorite hobbies? your niche interests? he knows everything about all of them

you are both giant nerds but it’s okay!

while you might geek out over tv shows and bands, Jiseok geeks out over science

he’s such a loser (/pos) (and I love him for it)

he will never escape my stem major headcannon NEVER

but this also means that he would be a great help with homework if you’re also a science oriented person!

chemistry? he’s got you

biology? piece of cake

you know what he can’t do?

PDA

again, I’ve talked about this, but I need to elaborate more

Jiseok blushes and practically folds in on himself like a chair at the slightest mention on girls

it’s one of the things I find the most endearing about him

so imagine how he feels walking around with you

he is absolutely baffled that you chose to date him so he gets so giddy and excited when you show PDA

he literally can’t handle it because he just loves you so much and he gets so excited

he’s like a little kid in a candy store- he just can’t get enough

SPEAKING OF LITTLE KIDS

Jiseok, much like Jungsu, would be great with your siblings or cousins!

he would talk video games with the older kids

good around with the younger kids

gang up on you with your family, always taking their side instead of yours

playful feasting is definitely a love language of his!

I think Jiseok would score some mega points with the adults in your family and also with your friends!

they would all see that he’s both incredibly musically talented and book smart, plus he makes you happy so he’s literally the ideal man

the jack of all trades of boyfriends

the… boyfriend of all trades? okay moving on

your friends are JEALOUS

“Where did you find him? I need a boyfriend like that!”

TOO BAD go get your own this one is mine hee hee 🤭

such a polite man

his manners 📈📈 through the roof

his middle name is chivalry

he would be the sweetest, most loving boyfie around 🥹

if something is not to your liking he’s fixing it for you right away!

your wish is his command

okay we need to get back to the feasting real quick

he is so goofy

downright odd

but we love him

I can fully imagine him hiding behind a corner or doorway just to pop out and scare you 💀

harmless pranks all the time

prank wars are very common between the two of you

you have a lot of very strange inside jokes that other people would literally need code to decipher because they wouldn’t make any sense to anyone else

Jiseok is always down for an adventure!

the most basic tasks feel fun with him because he knows exactly how to keep a good energy flowing!

but he can be serious too, don’t get me wrong

long, serious phone calls after a bad day at work or while he’s away are very common

he’s not afraid to get emotional with you!

Jiseok gubes me the vibe that if you cry, he’s gonna cry too (same tbh)

he just cares about you so deeply and he’s never felt that way about anyone else

he shows his love and appreciation for you in any way he can, no matter how odd

he buys you things that make him think of you

he probably has your work/school schedule memorized so he knows when he needs to make dinner or pitch in around the house because you might be busy

if you use a purse I can imagine him holding it for you and calling it his “murse” LMAOO

I feel like he would give you an assigned animal too? idk just a thought

“Well if I’m a duck then you have to be a goose because of duck duck goose.”

his logic? flawless

if you don’t know how to play already, be prepared for guitar lessons

if you don’t want the lessons, at least be ready for concerts

he will make up songs (sometimes they’re good, sometimes they’re not) or learn your favorite songs and perform them for you

and you will always be there in the front row :)

god I love Jiseok

at the end of the day, your relationship is lighthearted, fun, and Jiseok feels very lucky to have you in his life 🩷

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[moononmyfloor]

The First Shot (雪迷宫) Ep 1-10 rough commentary

So @rageprufrock 's promotion of First Shot totally worked on me and I binged 10 eps.

The Zhang Yimou-produced Anti-drug brain/brawn Notherner/Southerner BL-ish drama is BL-ing, guys 👀

Johnny Huang Jingyu who was one of the leads in the cancelled BL Addicted, who has been doing dozens of cop shows recently as if to prove something, and now he's a cop again *and* in a M/M pairing again 🤣 Genius, Mr. Johnny

The sparks were there from the first second they appeared together on the screen, I was grinning the entire time. It's just... the vibes are exactly right!

Both of them are mature, experienced actors by now (the other one is the ML from The Imperial Coroner) and both of them know the *exactly* right way to play against each other's energy. It's so effortless and magnificent.

You don't always feel such easy chemistry between an actor-actor pairing, I can count with one hand the people who were capable of that (the strongest and most natural of such that I rem are Bai Yu/Z1L from Guardian). They understand that to be queerplatonic you don't have to anything too extra, just show your genuine emotions towards your partner, keep your personal space open for the other and boom, magic.

They have that here too.

Hehe that "Oh wow he can eat, I'm in love" face 🤭

THIS IS SO GOOD

ALSO ALSO ALSO

A suspect got hots for the Cop ML and invited him over for dinner in a way Cop ML couldn't reject. When Cop ML returned to office to get the key he saw Nerd ML hasn't gone home yet and is burning midnight oil.

Nerd ML:

He's like Welcome Home Cheater lol

And speaking of the other side pairing, WHAT is going on with these two heh

And I really like this 2ML is also a very nicely done ambiguous grey role, played by the amazing Zhang Yu who works mostly in indie movies, he's putting on amazing unassuming and innocent persona one second and puts on a ruthless and unreadable demeanor one second. Just amazing. They did a great casting job for this drama, everyone NAILS what they are doing, gotta be the best ensemble this year.

Yeah save your boyfriend from your sister HAHAHA

And then the sister be salty and says this line and camera cuts to them I can't 😆

Yes, everybody involved in this project TOTALLY knows what they are doing.

And ALL of that happened within the first 10 eps!

It's just not chemistry and acting that makes this show worth watching, it's a visual feast too, lots of creatively shot action sequences and lots of impressive single-camera takes, it's quite different from you usual Chinese drug crackdown drama experience.

I can confidently tell you that if you enjoy M/M pairings in high energy setups like this that have fast-paced and satisfying plot and where the characters aren't dumb and behave like actual mature adults while still being so lovely and likeable, The First Shot is a must watch.