#is so important to him and his idea of h

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[monstersholygrail]

A Second Wave

Shark Hybrid bf x fem!reader—soft sex, multiple orgasms, marking, two cocks, fingering, double penetration, praise, creampie, aftercare, and cum play

Imagine a Shark Hybrid bf having decided to take you as his mate. You're his first ever human mate. Sure, he's been with other merpeople in the past, just passing flings he couldn't really care about. It was you who caught his attention from the very first moment you two locked eyes. And it was you who drew him in with your sweet laughs and your sweeter smell.

But he had no idea what it was like to have a human mate. He didn't know what you were used to or what you'd think about the very clear differences between him and human men. So as not to overwhelm you, when the time came for you to finally lay with him and bare your beautiful plump frame to his grateful eyes, he only revealed one of his dicks.

He watches you carefully, looking over your reaction closely. If you seemed confused then perhaps human men had two cocks as well and he'd release his second one. But no, you didn't look confused, only wildly excited with a faint glimmer of concern for if his hefty size would fit into your tight cunt.

A part of him is of course thrilled that you're laying beneath him practically drooling over his massive length, but another part of him is scared about how you'll react when he reveals his second cock to you that he's been told is even thicker than the first. Especially as it seems only one dick is normal for human males.

When he finally sinks into your warmth it's everything he's been imagining. Even with only one of his cocks inside of you it's the best sex he's ever had. The intimacy of the moment unmatched as his clawed hands trace over your curves.

You just feel so good and warm, he wants to give you all of him. He grabs handfuls of you, his hands sinking into your softness as he helps slam you down harder on his cock.

While he continues to lose himself your sweet cunt, he can't completely ignore that small nagging voice in the back of his head. A whispering voice telling him that he could give you even more, make your pleasure greater. All he had to do was let out his other cock. But his fear quickly silenced it and he just starts pounding into even harder, eager to make you feel good.

He knows he can't keep it a secret though. It wouldn't be fair to you or him. So a few days after that special night you two spent together, he sits you down, telling you he has something important to talk about. Not realizing that for humans that sentence can create a lot of anxiety.

You being the wonderful mate that you are asks him what's wrong. Being as before you he's never had a human mate, he has no idea how to put this. So he figures the best way is to just get it over with and blurt it out.

The silence stretches awkwardly after he does, neither of you knowing what to say.

"What?" You ask in your shock. He swallows down his nerves.

"I have another cock. One l've been hiding encase it was too much for you."

Again, the silence stretches. Shark Hybrid bf fears the worst, internally terrified that he's about to lose you. That you'll be scared or upset. That now that you know you may not want him.

"Can I see it?" Is what you finally say, shocking him. He whips his head around to look at you, jaw dropped.

His cocks twitch in his tail at your words and his Addams apple bobs but he nods in agreement, a spark of hopeful arousal shooting through him. It enough to have one of his cocks pop through the slit of his tail. A brief hesitation has him holding back for only a second before he looks into your eyes and sees only acceptance.

A long sigh of pleasure leaves him as he finally releases his second cock from his slit. His eyes never leave you as your own trail down his body and they widen once they reach his lengths. The second one indeed being thicker than the first. Both equally impressive in their length. Your bf waits with bated breath for you to say something- anything.

"H-how would they fit?" You whisper in awe, your hand tentatively reaching out to touch one.

Shark Hybrid bf groans, his head falling back as his cocks twitch at your slight touch. The second one was always more sensitive than the first. He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"There's many ways we could mate. But I could, uh, mmph, stretch you. Fit them both inside your pretty little hole. F-feel how wide you can stretch f'me."

You both moan at the image his words paint in your heads and before you know it you're slowing riding his first cock, his hips swiveling and mixing up your insides as he stretches you on his girth. You're a dripping mess, your arousal dribbling down his dick and making a mess of your joined hips. The anticipation fueling you just as much as his hard cock inside you is.

Shark Hybrid bf can feel how perfectly you're wrapped around him and he has to gather his strength to hold back his release. When your cunt flutters around him, clearly begging for more, his hand slips between your bodies, and his fingers gently push in, brushing against your walls and his cock at the same time causing you both to gasp.

He works on stretching you even wider, not willing to risk you getting hurt over this. Making sure everything is properly lubricated, leaving the two of you absolutely soaked. It was wet and filthy but so fucking hot. Each finger he adds in, pumping them in tandem with his length as your body relaxing further and further.

By the time you're finally ready for his second cock you're a fucked out mess, your head all spacey as you sag against your bfs chest. But the second you feel his second tip press against your entrance it's like you get a second wind, your mind and body coming to life.

Long pleasurable mewls echo off the walls as your bf slides his second cock deep inside you with the first. Your pussy almost unbearably full of him. For a moment you fear you'll burst in half, his sizes threatening to break you into two.

Almost as if sensing your worries your bf settles down inside of you, letting you adjust and calm down to. His hands caress your sides, massaging your fat with an unparalleled reverence.

He whispers soft words of praise in your hear, telling you how good you feel, how well you're taking him, and how you're the best mate he could've ever hoped for. And with his hands now free he doesn't hesitate to bring a couple of fingers up to rub soft circles into your clit, causing you to more easily relax against the intrusion.

You make the first move when you're ready, surprising your bf yet again as you start to ride his dicks. A low growl you've never heard from him before tears through his throat and his claws tighten on your waist. And before you know it you're bouncing on cocks at a frenzied pace, each glide pushes along your throbbing walls, making you crazy for him.

As much as he tries Shark Hybrid bf can't find it in himself to slow down. The stimulation of your perfect sopping pussy and the way his dicks rub together inside you send him spiraling, a feral need taking over him. He fucks into you with abandon, barreling you both into an unimaginable release.

And when you finally cum you swear for a moment you black out, the pleasure far too intense for your poor human body to handle. But your bf keeps fucking you through it, making you cum even harder till it's gushing out of you in a steady stream. The intensity of it all sends you clamping down on both his cocks and with a few more thrusts your bf cums right along with you.

You don't know what to expect when he finally does cum inside you but you didn't realize that double the cocks meant double the cum. His release doesn't seem to end as he shoots endless streams of cum deep inside you, stuffing you till you're overflowing with his release and your belly distends more and more.

When he carefully slips his lengths out of you, his cum spills out of you like a current. A satisfied grin rests on your bf's lips as he watches and his hand leaves your swollen sensitive clit to caress your stomach. After a moment he pushes on it gently and his grin grows wider as more and more spills out onto the ground beneath you, making an even bigger mess.

He swears to himself then and there that there is nothing better than having a pretty human mate like you.

[idyllwave]

+18, smut, mdni, f!reader, etc.

pt 1

You weren’t used to the attention that John was giving you. Your past partners never caring or giving a damn. So to feel just how much careful attention he is giving your weeping pussy is making your core throb and ache. And when he started to pull his fingers out, it made you whine embarrassingly loud.

The sound made him chuckle as he got up and pulled you along.

“Where- where are we going?”

“To my bed.”

That was another thing that made you almost lose your footing. You were never important enough for a bed. The hard floor or the lumpy, uncomfortable couch was all your dates ever brought you to. In your mind, however, you wouldn’t have minded John’s couch as it was more comfortable than the others you had the displeasure of sitting on.

“Are you sure? What about the mess?”

You couldn’t hide the way your voice wobbled as he ushered you into his room, his foot kicking the door closed as his hands gently worked on your pants, helping you shrug them off along with your panties.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, amusement clear in his features. And when you felt your clothing start to pool at your feet, you found that you were only dressed in your shirt and bra. The cool air made your thighs clench together.

“If I’m going to fuck ya, sweet girl, then it’s going to be in my bed. But before that…,” his voice trailed off as he helped you out of your shirt and unclipped your bra, the articles of clothing joining your jeans and panties, “I said I was going to have you sit on my face next.”

Without getting undressed himself, he pulled you along towards his bed. His hand gently tugging you forward when he sat down on the edge of, you now wedged between his thighs as he rested his hands on your hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles as he kissed your stomach. The feeling of him peppering you with kisses made you squirm.

“Well?”

“H- huh?”

He chuckled at your cluelessness, but didn’t dare make fun of you for it, “though I said where I wanted you to sit, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He leaned back, pushed himself to where he was laying face down whilst pulling you with. Your chest pressed hard against his as he let one of his hands trail and gently squeeze at the fat of your ass.

A part of you always wanted to try, but with your past partners hating the idea of giving you oral while also giving you a clear display of disgust, you sort of dropped the idea entirely.

But John is offering, isn’t he?

He isn’t the type of man to do something he doesn’t want to after all.

“Only if… you really want to,” you manage to say.

“That’s what I am asking you. Do you want to?”

You found yourself gripping at the front of his shirt, the way his fingers worked you open was still imprinted in your cunt, you really want to feel his tongue too.

“Yes, please.”

The moment the words left your mouth, he had you sit up so you were straddling his waist. You tried not to whine out too much when your wet cunt pressed down against his hardening bulge, and he didn’t give you enough time to feel him as he already got a strong hold of your hips again and gently dragging you up.

“You’re so nervous.”

You didn’t know where to put your hands as your bare pussy hovered just over his mouth. None of your previous partners ever really looked to hard at your slick, but John made a point to just analyze all of you.

“I- I can’t help it, I never did something like this before.”

He chuckled softly, his breath gently hitting your cunt making you squirm in his hold, “then I best ruin you for everyone else, huh?”

Not giving you any time to give back a retort, he planted you down, his grip strong as he easily held you in place as his tongue licked a long stripe between your folds. The sudden contact made you squeal as started to lap at you, his tongue not missing a single inch even as he toys with your fluttering hole. The tip of his tongue gently prodding before delving in.

The heat and feeling of his tongue was way different, and even better as he let one of his hands let go of your waist to trail downwards.

Your moans and gasps filled up the quiet bedroom accompanied by the wet sounds your pussy made against his tongue and fingers.

And you think between each flick of his tongue and pump of his fingers that he was right.

He was ruining you for everyone else… that is, if you even want anyone else after this.

[dazedantics]

Mark remembers being your husband.

Well, okay, he was never actually your husband.

But when you played house in the comfort of backyards and playgrounds, he never had an issue assuming that role in your game of make believe. Whatever it took to just to keep his friend.

You'd use whatever you had around as your "kids." New action figures, old dollies, spare blankets, the poor dog who wanted no part in being dressed up.

It wasn't Mark's thing, no. But he played along properly each time just to stay with you till the sun went down.

He'd fix the house, go to work, play hero with your kids, take you on pretend dates, he'd even pick you up and spin you around as a greeting for when he got home! Well, okay, maybe he wasn't quite strong enough to do that yet. But he certainly tried! Giggling when you two tipped over, talking about his supposed day at work.

He didn't stop you if you had an idea either.

You want to pretend you're going to the store? Sure thing, he'll push the basket. You stuff a ball under your shirt to pretend you got a baby in there? Okay, he'll do the chores while you sit 'n sew. You want to kiss him cause you just love your husband oh so much? Uhh ... well, maybe that's a bit ... oh, and now you're kissing him anyways. Super.

Admittedly, he didn't like that part at first, cooties and all, but his admonition went out the window as you huffed and started chasing him round and round until you landed a successful one on his lips.

He soon got used to it though, even puckering up before you had put your kids to sleep. He even found himself thinking about it when it was time for you two to hit the hay.

And even now as he got older.

When he sat there at his desk, spacing out. First wondering about what's for lunch, then the latest comic waiting for him at home, then you.

He hadn't seen you a long time. You probably forgot about him by now. Or maybe not? You two did spend a lot of time together and you seemed to have about as many other friends as he did (which wasn't a lot). But you guys were more grown up now, you'd probably repressed those memories, right?

Yeah, that seems more likely.

I mean, why worry about that one scrawny boy when you were probably surrounded by lots of hot guys now.

One who'd be your real husband someday. That you'd make play with your kids and cuddle up to and kiss over and over again.

Mmm ... for some reason Mark didn't like that thought. Nose scrunching up and brows furrowing.

You'd been his first kiss, you know. And probably his only one. That thought made him feel strange too. Though in a better way that turns bittersweet in the end.

Did you ever think about that?

How he could technically have been considered your first boyfriend?

Oh no, well now he hopes not. Cause if you did, you'd have to tell your current boyfriend, right? Then he'd want to come beat up the punk who knew his girl.

Mark rubbed his eyes, trying to get that out of his head. It'd suck if he'd made an another enemy he didn't even know existed. A guy could only take so much locker shoving, you know?

He sighed and looked up to the front of the class. He hadn't heard a word the teacher said and could only hope it wasn't important.

They guestured to the door.

A surprise principal meeting? Hadn't had one of those in a while. He should probably look at the other kids' desks to figure out what he should be pretending to do.

The door's opening.

Okay, no one has their notebooks so maybe he should- wait. Is that you!?

You were taller than back then, but he could recognize you from anywhere! He watched as your lips started moving, those lips that had countlessly kissed his. He blanked on what you were saying, but he heard your voice. The sound just made all those random specifics details of you appear in his mind all at once.

And he may have been making things up at this point, but he swears your eyes were on him the moment you walked in.

You remember him? Even if it is just a little vaguely? You don't know how high that'd make his heart rocket.

Did you maybe want to sit by him? He wouldn't mind. Maybe you couldn't play house anymore, but you could still do things as you used to right?

Or maybe he could work his way up to becoming your actual husband now?

That was why you were suddenly here, right? The fates decided you weren't done playing pretend. Was he cool enough to talk to you now? Could he even bring up what had technically happened between you?

Would you bring it up?

Or does he have to keep sitting here, reliving those tender moments till the rest of his days?

Please don't make it come to that.

Please ...

[star-5truck]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Sypnosis: Blue Lock men getting jealous! Characters: S. Nagi, R. Itoshi, S. Itoshi, M. Kaiser

Jealous - Nick Jonas

Cause you're too fuckin' beautiful

And everybody wants a taste

That's why (That's why)

I still get jealous

Nagi Seishiro

-Reo and you are the only people he hangs out with. But you and reo are closer than he thought.

-he trusts reo, he trusts you, so why is there a pit in his stomach?

-The feeling doesn’t go away for DAYS and he can’t stand it

-Ends up going to isagi for advice

-Isagi just looks at him confused “You mean your jealous, right?”

-Jealous? But reos his friend??

-Gets the balls to talk to you about it.

“Reo?” You said, a look of confusion on your face as you looked over at your boyfriend. “I mean, he is a nice guy. But I’m dating you, Sei.” You give him a kiss on his cheek, making his ears tint the slightest bit of red.

“Jealousy is a hassle.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and holds you tight. He settles in the crook of your neck, sighing in content. “I trust you angel. ‘m sorry for feeling that way.”

He feels your body shake from your giggle, he’s about to ask why before your hands are raking through his hair. “It’s fine. Jealousy is normal.” That’s all the reassurance you both need.

Itoshi Rin

-Gets jealous when you ask one of his TEAM MATES to teach you soccer.

-He’s right here??

-Worst part, he found out about it through said team mate. You didn’t even bring it up with him.

-Keeps thinking about it every second now

-Did you not deem him a good enough teacher?

-He knew he was harsh with words but that was only SOMETIMES (It really isn’t)

“Rin?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts, making him look up at you.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring again. Something on your mind?” You’ve noticed he’s been quieter nowadays. Staring off into nothing like his thoughts were so important- which they could be. But you’d like to help him in his predicament.

“Do you not want to spend time with me?” He asks suddenly, making you blink in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I know you asked Shidou to teach you soccer.”

Your face is immediately red. He wasn’t wrong, anyway, it’s just that Rin took it the wrong way. You’d asked Shidou to teach you soccer because you wanted to spend more time with Rin. You just wanted to impress him. Rin tells you that’s a stupid idea. Immediately makes you stop your lessons with Shidou.

Itoshi Sae

-First of, Sae doesn’t get jealous. He’s perfectly comfy with how your relationship is and knows you wouldn’t cheat on him.

-Never fucking mind

-Who does this waiter think he is asking for your number?

-Sae is literally sitting infront of you on a DATE

-Gives the guy the worst stare you’d ever imagine

-Of course, you don’t give the guy your number but it still irks Sae.

“We should stop going to that restaurant.” Sae says after he starts the car and you’re on the road. You look at him surprised. Considering Sae’s the one who suggested you eat there in the first place.

“What? Why? Isn’t this one of the few restaurants that consider your diet?

“I don’t care. The staff there aren't that friendly.” He’d rather DIE than admit he’s jealous. He might even crash this car right now if you decide to push it. He’d ask you to step out before crashing the car, of course.

“Sae are you sure-?”

“That place doesn’t have [favorite drink] right? Thought so. We should go to places with more variety anyway.”

Michael Kaiser

-You’re at his game, like always, of course.

-And like at every game, there is a kiss cam.

-See, Kaiser makes sure to get you VIP tickets so you don’t end up there.

-That fails when another VIP sits next to you, and the kiss cam lands on you both.

-The guy is already leaning in and Kaiser is already fuming.

Every player on the field actually stops playing out of shock. Considering the fact Michael Kaiser is the biggest opponent for BOTH teams. They all watch as he runs over to the VIP seats, jumps over the railing, and curtly flips off the camera and the guy. He kisses you, it's quick, but the stadium still erupts in cheers. “There’s a kiss for you.” He says to the camera, making another round of yells come.

“Micha, WHAT do you think you're doing?” You tell him baffled by the events that had just passed.

“Showing them you’re taken, what else?”

You now wear one of Kaiser’s jerseys every game.

[kazumist]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION .ᐟ

✩ — you always had a habit of saying “i love you” to almost everyone you know—everyone except caleb. or in other words, the three times you refused to say “i love you” to caleb and the one time you do.

✩ — includes: caleb x f!reader. reader is mc but story is not canon compliant. fluff. silly and messy (also drunk) confessions. cw: mentions of alcohol but no consumption. wc: 2,902.

✩ — note: i got this idea otw to uni randomly during the week. thought it was cute :P

you always had a little habit of saying i love you or simply just love you to everyone.

a female colleague compliments you today? you’d chirp back, stop, i love you! thanks; you look great too! someone gives you a surprise gift? you’d squeal at the sight of the gift; i love it! and i love you! how did you know i wanted this? someone does an important favor for you last minute? a sigh of relief leaves you. oh my god, i love you! you’re a lifesaver!

it just slips out so easily for you. there’s nothing wrong with having love to give, right?

but despite this little habit of yours, you never told caleb that you loved him—not even in the small moments like what he usually sees you with others—and he's done way more things for you than them! 

when caleb cooks you dinner? you’d peek from behind; oooh, it smells good—thanks for cooking dinner! when caleb lends a hand to ease your workload? you give him a tired smile. thanks, caleb. i appreciate it, really. and when caleb is the one doing those last-minute favors for you? you’d throw your arms at him, wrapping him in a hug. i owe you one, seriously! dinner is on me tonight! don’t get him wrong; he’s not that upset over it. it’s more like it makes him sulk about it.

because what could be so wrong with you telling him those three words?

caleb doesn’t really say it to you either. but it does make him wonder why you’d refuse to show that habit of yours to him. he knows you like the back of his hand; it’s not like anything was going to be different if you did say it to him. he was your friend too.

right?

well, caleb might be wrong on that.

-

caleb decided to keep track of the times when you would usually say “i love you” to others but don’t when it’s him.

the first was when he was helping you with some spring cleaning. 

throwing out things that should’ve been gone long ago, helping you reach places you couldn’t, caleb doesn’t complain. “hey, this maple syrup expired ages ago. you still haven’t thrown it in the trash?” caleb asks you; currently he’s cleaning your fridge while you flip through the newspapers that accumulated over time. 

“huh? oh! i.. honestly forgot i had that there,” you replied, a bit embarrassed at caleb finding it. but that’s exactly why he’s here—because if he wasn’t, then you probably wouldn’t have noticed that expired bottle of maple syrup. “it’s alright, you don’t have that much expired stuff in here anyways. but what you do have here is... well, not much. when was the last time you went out for some groceries, pips?”

“groceries? uhm... two weeks ago, if i recall it correctly. wait—oh yeah! i was supposed to go out to restock today!” you remembered as you stood up to double check the date today. “we can take a break first and go for a quick grocery run. what do you say?”

and that’s the reason why you’re now in the supermarket with caleb, with him pushing the cart and you checking the list you made.

let’s see... eggs? we haven’t reached that part yet. bread, check. milk, not yet. snacks, half way there. toiletries? we’re way too far from that aisle right now, so definitely not yet.

“what meals do you plan on having for the next few weeks?” caleb asks as you reach the vegetable section. “hmm… i’ve been craving stir-fry lately. so maybe some ingredients for that? i don’t usually make that much since work gets a bit too demanding at times and i’d usually eat out with colleagues instead.”

“i see.. what do you think about stir-fry for dinner later? i’ll cook,” he replies. and you know that he knows that you’d never decline his cooking. “deal! i’ll go check the fruit section while you’re at it.” 

with now vegetables for some classic old stir-fry, one batch of six apples, and one pack of grapes in the cart, you and caleb reached the cereal section. your eyes scanned the brands displayed, checking whether it’s in your budget and if it looks good to buy. you walked ahead with caleb trailing you from behind as he pushed the shopping cart. 

“hey, look over here, pips.” you heard him call you. turning around to face him, you see caleb was holding a familiar box of cereal. “wait... is that what i think it is?” you asked just to be sure. “uh-huh. the very same cereal that we used to eat as kids,” he confirms. you gasp, taking the box from him to check it.

“oh my god, caleb! i lo—” your eyes slightly widened. “i mean, i want it! is there a smaller box there? this is too big for me as someone who lives alone,” you quickly say.

one, caleb counted in his head.

-

the second time was when you two went out to the amusement park.

caleb had always had this competitive side when it comes to winning prizes with the game booths around. this time was no different—he was currently making sure that his aim would be just right for the nerf bullet to hit the bottle. 

as he pulled on the trigger, the bullet was quick to hit the bottle but not enough to knock it over.

he knew that these games would usually be a silly scam. but hey, how could he resist when your eyes shined as you saw that cute little apple plushie that’s promoted as a prize? how could he resist when you were the one who said, “look, caleb! that apple plushie reminds me of you.” with a giggle as a cherry on top?

he couldn’t possibly resist that. so now he has decided that he’ll win that apple plushie so that you’ll have another thing that would remind you of him.

“better luck next time, mate,” the one running the booth said. but caleb isn’t gonna give up that easily—so he pays for another try. and this time, he’ll get that prize for you. you watched him from behind, glancing ever so often at how concentrated he looks. he then pulls the trigger again, the sound of the toy gun ringing through your ears. 

the fake bullet shoots, and just when the owner of the booth was going to tell caleb another “better luck next time!”, the bullet knocks the bottle over. caleb lowers the gun from his line of vision. he tosses it back to the owner, who barely catches it as he was shocked that caleb actually won. 

“i’d like the apple plushie that’s displayed, please,” caleb tells him, pride radiating off. the owner gets the plush and hands it over, congratulating caleb on winning (though it was mostly a grumble under his breath). “here you go.” he hands it over to you. you stared at him dumbfoundedly. “eh? i thought you won it because you liked apples?”

“i got it for you, silly girl. you said that it reminded you of me, right?” 

“awww, you actually won it for me? how sweet of you! lo—” another short pause. “thanks, caleb!” you said instead, but he knew what you were about to say. 

and you didn’t have to know that he used his evol just to get the prize.

two, caleb counts.

-

the third time was when he was taking care of you while you were sick.

as of the moment, you were currently burning up with a temperature of 38.9—which is quite bad. and to top that, you refuse to take your medicine due to the awful taste that it leaves on your tongue. “c’mon pips, i know you hate being sick but you need to take this,” he takes, holding the spoon filled with your medicine for you to take. 

“but it tastes so bad,” you said. it was obvious that your nose was clogged from your cold and your throat was dry from your cough. “i know but how are you gonna get better if you don’t take your meds, hm?” he softly asks. “this might as well just be my death bed then,” you replied. caleb lightly chuckles at that. “now you’re being overdramatic, pips.”

“don’t care, i’m still not taking that.”

that was a lie because caleb soon managed to convince you to take your medicine anyway. it leaves a bad aftertaste on your tongue and caleb helps you drink some water to wash it down. you let out a yawn soon after, the drowsiness side effect of your medicine taking place. “feel sleepy now?” he asks again, his hand combing his fingers through your hair (a habit he can’t control sometimes).

“mhm.. i‘m gonna get some shut eye real quick...” you trailed off, eyes slowly fluttering closed. “sleep well, pipsqueak.” 

“love…” you suddenly say, eyes still closed. but caleb knew better.

you didn’t get to finish that sentence. “thanks, caleb. i owe you dinner after i get better.”

three, caleb counts again.

-

you were drunk the one time you told caleb you loved him.

it was nearing two in the morning when he picked you up from the bar. 

you went drinking with tara and simone as a way to spend some time together. however, you forgot to ask caleb to pick you up when you’re done. but it was a good thing that you had caleb as your emergency contact, so tara and simone were able to get in touch with him, asking him to pick you up in your stead.

“sorry! we didn’t know that she’s a bit of a lightweight. we would’ve stopped her if we knew.” tara apologizes as caleb approaches your table. “it’s okay; it looks like she forgot about that too,” he says with a sigh. swiftly bidding his thanks and farewell to your friends on your behalf, he tightly holds your waist to maintain your balance as he brings you to his car.

“caleb? is that you?” you voice was slurred, cheeks a bit redder than usual, and you couldn’t look at him straight. “yeah, it’s me,” caleb replies, unlocking his car and settling you on the passenger seat.

“are we going home?” you asked him. he hums in reply, “yep, we are. hold on tight, okay?”

-

as soon as caleb returned you to your place, he gently laid you on your bed. he searches for your makeup remover in your room and grabs a cotton pad to pour some product on it. his hands were gentle on you as you stirred from time to time as the cotton pad came into contact with your skin.

“hold still, pips. your mascara is a bit tricky to remove,” he says. 

when caleb is done, he stays with you as he sits by your bedside. there was a comfortable silence as caleb admires you. you were probably sleeping now; the soft rise and fall of your chest was proof of that. yet when you shifted your head in his direction, caleb never would’ve expected what he was about to hear.

“you wanna know why i don’t tell you that i love you?”

“sure, pips.”

“i know i don’t say it much...” a yawn comes in between. “honestly, i only refuse to say it to you,” so my hunch was right. caleb thought. “yeah? and why is that?” he plays along, curious to see where this conversation would lead.

“because i feel like if i do say it... things would change. because if i told you that i love you, i know that.. it’s not like how i say it to others...” your words were still a bit slurred but caleb could decipher them. although he can’t seem to decipher what you mean by that.

you were drunk. you weren’t in your right mind. yet that stupid saying that he hears ever so often when he’s the one out for drinks echoes in his head; drunk words are sober thoughts. before his mind could trail any further, you spoke again. 

“i love you, caleb.” 

the way you said it was quiet and easy to miss, yet caleb caught every single word in his ear—he never misses a word you say. he didn’t—no, he couldn’t say anything. the shock on his face was too evident (though you couldn’t really notice it as your vision is still in a daze).

caleb doesn’t know if he should believe it. 

this is what he wanted to hear, right? well, he got it. but he didn’t expect to hear it from your drunken state.

“i kno—”

“no, you don't,” you cut him off. “you have no idea, actually. i.. i don’t love you like how i love my friends. i love you more than that.” his breath hitches at your words. is this really happening? he still doesn’t know he should believe it. but solely because of the fact that caleb loves you too, he’s willing to accept whatever you would give him. 

so whether this may or may not be due to the alcohol, he’ll be damned.

-

when the next morning came rolling around, your head throbbed.

everything was blurry when you opened your eyes. but you couldn’t mistake the familiar handwriting on a pink sticky note by your bedside table. for your hangover :) it said. you knew that was caleb’s handwriting from anywhere.

getting up, you took the medications that were stuck with the note and went to the kitchen. you glance at the bag—caleb’s bag, to be specific—that’s placed on the sofa. only by then did you wonder how you got home last night but you just assumed that your friends contacted caleb based on his bag on the sofa. the sound of eggs cracking and the stove being on made you aware of his presence in your place.

“hi.” you say, voice still raspy since you just got up. “hey there, pips. feeling better?”

“kinda. sorry that you had to take me home last night but thanks either way.”

“no biggie. good thing that you had me as your emergency contact, huh?” 

“yeah..” 

as caleb continues to busy himself in your kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you sat yourself by the table. “hey... did i do something stupid last night? you know, since i was drunk and all.” you could see caleb freeze for a moment before he replies. “nope. why do you ask?” he doesn’t look back.

caleb had a habit of avoiding your gaze whenever he lies. and that’s precisely what he’s doing right now. suddenly, it all came crashing to you like a strong wave. from the moment he arrived at the bar to the moment you fell asleep to him playing with your hair as a way to help you, you remembered it all.

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not, pips.” he says as he finishes cooking the second egg. he was done with breakfast at this point so you took this as a chance to corner him. turning off the stove beside him, you caged him in your arms as they placed themselves on each of his sides. “cornering me now, huh?”

“i said something last night, didn’t i?”

caleb avoids your gaze. got you.

“you didn’t. you just rambled about some nonsense that i couldn’t really understand,” he tells you. “oh, so i didn’t say that i love you?” you pry further. caleb’s eyes seemed to widen at you as soon as he heard that. “i did, didn’t i?”

“you—you didn’t.”

“there’s no use in lying, caleb.”

the adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he visibly gulped. “...fine. you did. happy? you say it anyone anyway.”

“yeah. who knew that all i needed was liquid courage?”

what?

“what? why do you look so shocked at that?” you asked him. “i.. i thought you were just drunk. i mean, you do say i love you to everyone over the smallest things.” he answers. “well, you were the only exception to that. i told you, didn’t i? i don’t love you like how i love my friends but more than that. more than friends. to tell you the truth, i’d rather die than be just friends with you.”

“i don’t wanna be your friend anymore, caleb—i want more than that.”

he was silent for a moment. but he leans closer, just close enough for your noses to touch. your hands weren’t trapping him now as he puts his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. your eyes never left his face as he did this. “can you repeat that for me, pips?” he asks. “repeat what?” you ask back.

“that you love me.”

“i love you—hmf!”

caleb presses his lips against yours, hands pulling you against his chest as he does so. your arms found themselves around his neck, while your hands traveled up to his hair. “say it again.” caleb pulls away. you found yourself giggling at him. “i love you—” another kiss. “again.” he says. “i love you—” and another kiss.

you pull away this time, giving him a playful glare. “hey! you can’t just ask me to repeat myself and then repeat kissing me as well!” caleb chuckles at that. “sorry, i just... always wanted to do this with you.”

caleb presses one final kiss to the corner of your lips. “i love you too. more than you realize.”

[harukyuu2]

hii could I request Till, Ivan, and Luka x Ado!reader (the singer) and could you write their reactions to reader singing crime and punishment in the stage with their opponent and after could you make a little scenario after?

(if you haven't heard the song I recommend you to listen to it so you have an idea on what it's about! <3)

ANON WERE SO CONNECTEDD im literally obsessed with that song this month, idk why but here you have it!!

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT !! - Ado!Reader x Till, ivan, luka ♪

!! ⇾ Headcanons more than all, little scenario, fluff, relationship not tagged so you can take it as what you want, weird behaviour for Luka, neutral reader, a little ooc maybe since its my first time actually writting for alnst :x - Small revision !!

◊▸ TILL !!

This man was soo nervous when you got into the stage, he wont tell you directly— but he loves you too much for you to lose.

Now, when the song started with you showing so much emotions. he losed it completely

His eyes couldnt leave your figure, he was already mesmerized by you— but it seems you always find a new way to make him fall more in love

The way you blended so easily screams on the song, showing with them lots of emotions made him want to sing at your side— even if he thinks he isnt at your level, he just loves your voice so much. He didnt even care how your opponent didnt manage to get too much of a line since you stealed it with your screams.

He leaved a relieved sigh when the hologram showed your win, even if it was a clear result. He isnt able to relax a second when youre on stage, he has to keep a watch on you even if he cant do too much about it. he was so mad he couldnt bring his sketchbook to atleast keep this moment in paper instead in only his mind, well— his sketchbook is already full of portraits of you.

⇒ After The Round... Till was waiting for you at the backstage, the first times he did this he felt nervous and all, but right now he just wanted to see you. Actually, he is nervous! but his feelings of admiration and love for you are stronger than that. When he saw your figure emerge alone from the darkness, his heart began to race, and suddenly, the words he had prepared vanished from his mind—replaced only by the tired smile you gave him when you stood face to face. For a moment, silence hung between you two, he was staring at you mesmerized. Then, realizing how strange he must look, he snapped out of it, shaking his head and quickly trying to speak. "H-hey...you did great back there, the way you singed- i liked it a lot, uhm..it was beautiful" - He said pretty nervous rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze a little, you were so bright in his eyes that his heart burned with a simple glance at your face. You were getting used to Till's nervous presence, leaving it up to his struggles with communication after everything he endured back in the garden. Letting out a soft laugh at how he avoided your gaze, you leaned in closer—tilting your head to meet his eyes. Speaking in a low, reassuring tone, you tried to ease his nerves. - "Thank you, Till. Thanks for being there for me."

Your gazes met, and with a gentle smile, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug, your head resting in his chest to feel his heartbeat. You understood how much he struggled to stay obedient to the aliens, so the fact that he did it just to watch you sing on stage filled your heart with warmth.

At first, Till didnt know how to reciprocate correctly the hug and just tensed his body at your touch— he sighed, knowing you were probably hearing his heartbeat, so with shaking hands and feeling his cheeks warm up, he hugged you back lightly, scared of hurting you since in his eyes you were so delicated and perfect... Seeing the figure of an alien emerge in the darkness behind you, his grip on you tightened— the hug was more important even if he would be punished after for being with you alone. Lowering his head to your shoulder, he whispered to you with a shaking voice, not really wanting to let go "Can we sing together someday...?" ◊▸ IVAN !!

This guy had a pretty calm expression, he believed in you— no, better said he knows youre better than your opponent.

If youre able to make him feel emotions he wasnt able to feel before with your voice, its obvious youre gonna win to that normal guy!

Obviously, a part of him was worried for you, but not that much since its not the first time he hears you sing. He loved to spy on you in the garden and you always had such a beautiful voice that gived him weird goosebumps

He was so captivated by your voice, the way you controlled it, the mix of emotions you putted in it, your facial expressions...he wanted to be the reason for you to show all of that, he wanted to be the reason you express like that, he wanted your attention.

The result of the round flashed on the hologram. A part of him was relieved—he’d get to spend more time with you. But another part couldnt ignore the sadness creeping in, you werent singing anymore, and he loved studying your expressions when you did. It drove him crazy how you seemed to pour everything into the raw emotions behind your screams and vocals, completely ignoring the fear in your opponent's eyes or even the outcome of the battle itself. ⇒ After The Round...

Thanks to your huge win in the stage, your guardian gived you a gift— the freedom of running into the rooftop of their agency to look at the night sky for today. Not an artificial sky or the ceiling of your room, the real one that inspired you to keep going until you were able to escape. Feeling the air hit your face, you taked a deep breath finally outside of the stage. Looking at the sky in a deep silence that soothed the fear of dying... Until you got interrupted by something or better said someone grabbing your shoulders - "Hello!" - You heared Ivan say making you leave a scared yelp "Ivan-! dont do that! imagine if i falled out!" - You said with a small frown since you were almost in the edge of the roof, as always, he dismissed what you said with a small laugh— walking more into your side. He was here since he conviced Unsha to make a negotiation with your guardian or something, just to promote the two genuises of garden ANAKT. "You did great on the stage, i loved those strong moments you had singing, were you mad at something?" - Ivan ask with his usual mischevious smile patting your head, the calm surrounding hitting you both even if he was trying to be playfull Hearing his words, you sighed, resting your weight slightly on his arm. Almost instinctively, he wrapped it around you, holding you close. "No, no… I just thought it would’ve sounded better if I put more emotion into it," you murmured softly. "Ah, I was also a little worried he’d sing over me since he’s known for interrupting his opponents—but thats all." You spoke casually, remembering how you felt on the stage, but Ivan was quick to reassure you that your interruptions with the high notes and all blended perfectly into the song The moment between you two was silent again, with him caressing your shoulder slightly before breaking it again with a small mix of playfulness and sweetness: "Lets stay like this for a moment, i promise to not push you.." ◊▸ LUKA !!

Talking honestly?? i dont think this man would be on the public tbh... But because Heperu doesnt want his star pet to be around common pets even if its to watch a show! He would probably watch you through a screen tho

even if his face doesnt show any emotions he would probably like your voice, a part of him softens slightly for you even if its unnoticeable

Unconsciously, he would start humming the song, trying to mimic the strength of your vocals and wondering if he could reach that scream you did.

Pretty calm about the situation tbh, he was trained to take death as normal and always try to win. So he expects the same for you, he prefers you winning tho more than taking your death normally

Im sorry but from these three he lacks a lot of reaction !! He loves you...in his own weird way!

⇒ After The Round... Luka waited for you in his asigned room, it was normal for you two to meet after the rounds since it bringed hype to the aliens that the "Ruler of the stage" and the possibly new ruler spended time together. Obviously, that bringed a lot of money to your guardians, so its a little treat of them for you two! You entered Luka's room tiredly and he standed up when he felt your presence in the door, walking closer to you. His usual calm and blunt expression bored into you while you wondered what he was thinking about since he usually waits for you to get to his side He grabbed your hand, making your breath hitch as you tensed up, only to be caught off guard when he suddenly decided to bite one of your fingers. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but let out a small laugh, feeling your mood lift slightly. 'Eeeh? Luka, are you perhaps hungry...?' you asked softly, mindful of your voice after such an intense performance Luka taked your finger out of his mouth before looking directly at you, continuing to grab your hand he decided to give you a quick response- "mhm...maybe, can i be hungry of you too?" - He asked like it was a normal question, even if it flustered you a little he didnt seem to care since he meant it in a literal way Sitting on the couch with him, he placed his head on your lap, still holding your hand tightly as he guided it to rest on his head, closing his eyes calmly. Wait a second—werent you the one who won the round? So why is he the one getting the pats?? You sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way to win an argument like that against Luka. He knew all too well that you’d end up spoiling him anyway "Stay like that for now...and move your hand, i let you."

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Can you make a jealous chishiya? Where chishiya tells the reader to thet information about arisu but the reader and arisu gets along prety well and chishiya gets jealous? Thank you.

♠️ Chishiya being jealous about you and Arisu getting along pretty well ♠️

A/N: Hey, sorry for letting you wait so long. Maybe you have already forget that you wrote me this request but I like the idea behind it, so I decided to make this my "comeback". 👀

I'm actually not sure if I understood it the correct way, but I definitely understood you want a Chishiya who is jealous about the fact Arisu and you are get along splendidly. 😋

Hopefully it reaches you and I also hope you will enjoy reading this. ♥️

Characters: Chishiya

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

C h i s h i y a

I don't see him being a jealous person actually.

Unless you give him a reason to ...

Chishiya isn't even a person who falls in love easily.

But when he is falling for someone, he falls pretty hard.

So, you have to deal with his feelings and his behavior when he sees you together with Arisu, chatting and laughing together as if there would be no tomorrow.

Okay, to be fair, nobody knows if there would be a "Tomorrow" ... but that's something different!

Arisu may be a great help to him when it comes to collecting all the cards, but sometimes Chishiya thinks Arisu is his downfall.

Especially when it comes to you.

Yeah, but don't think he will talk about it- he is more concerned with hiding his feelings from you than actually speaking about them.

Even if you already have realized something isn't okay with him, he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm used to it that you are not talking much when there is nothing important to discuss about." "I can hear your "but" even though you didn't said it yet." "Then guess what I wanted to say next." "I don't have any problems, I feel fine, no worries."

Nobody said it would be easy with him. He can be as cold as he looks and it's hard seeing through him, even for you.

Still, he can be a calm and cool person as much as he wants- but he's just a human being. You can endure a lot, but at some point everyone reaches their limits.

You and Arisu are talking a lot? Fine.

Arisu makes a joke you find funny, so he watches both of you laughing and having fun with each other? Alright, you aren't his trophy, everyone can have other friends next to his own partner.

But seeing both of you hugging after a game ...

Because you saw someone die in front of your eyes and you are now overwhelmed by many different emotions ...

Well, enough is enough.

"Step aside, Arisu, that's not your part, alright?"

He was waiting for you the entire time you were in the building, so it's not hard for him to find you both outside being ... needy.

"In the future, you'd better keep your hands to yourself." "Excuse me what was that?" "You already understand."

While Chishiya switches positions with Arisu and holds you captive in his arms, he just gives the dark-haired man a warning look.

… Even if unintentionally.

… And unconsciously.

"Well ... I better go then and ... leave both of you alone ... for now." Arisu lets off of you, leaving you to the person who means the most to you. "You better do."

Trying to catch your breath and calm down, you look up to Chishiya and Arisu alternately, feeling the tension between them.

Still, you can't help but start giggling a little.

Arisu und Chishiya both start looking at you now, irritated and confused.

"W-Well, wait ... just to make it clear- is there someone ... really ... jealousy?" "Yes, he is." "No, I'm not", he says calmly. "Okay, then ... let me hug Arisu again ... s-shouldn't be a problem when everything is okay. Right?"

Silence.

You smiling up to Chishiya, who is now biting his tongue and pressing his lips together, not even thinking about letting off of you.

Arisu watching in amusement.

"I'm ... just not fine seeing another one be there for you while I can be there for you. It's my job to cheer you up- even though I'm not the best in it, but I'm trying very hard." "You ARE jealousy, Chi!" "Oi, stop saying this, will you ... ?"

[jaehaeryshater]

The King Come Over and his bride Ygritte Firekissed

art by : @shripscapi

Look at my King dawg we’re definitely getting through the Wall!!!

For the last month and a half, I have been working closely with Liesl to design concepts for Jon as King Beyond the Wall and Ygritte as his Queen. Personally, I’m not invested at all in Jon becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms despite him being my favorite character. He’s not very connected with the South and I don’t feel that it’s his birth right or anything, even being the son of Rhaegar. I am significantly more interested in him becoming King in the North, but my interest in Freefolk culture has led me to be far more invested in the idea of him rejecting Southron society as a whole and becoming King Beyond the Wall (this isn’t necessarily mutually exclusive to being King in the North later on).

The motivation for Jon becoming King as opposed to Mance stems from a theory that has been around since AGOT has come out: that the Others will only treat with/negotiate with a Stark. In the prologue of AGOT, when the Others are speaking among themselves before killing the Watchmen, what if they were confirming with each other that Waymar Royce was not a Stark and that they could go ahead and kill him? All in all, it doesn’t really matter if this is true, but rather that this is a plausible rumor that could easily have been passed down among the Freefolk which could lead Mance to conclude that Jon as a leader would give the Freefolk the best chance of survival. It’s not very hard, at least in my opinion, to imagine an AU like this, since survival is the most important thing to the Freefolk during the events of ASOIAF. But is it plausible that under these circumstances that Jon would abandon his Night’s Watch vows? I think so if he can be led to believe that only Stark blood could defeat the Others, but that is not the only factor. Jon Snow is insecure about his bastard status, plain and simple. He’s always lived in the shadow of his Robb, though he loved him. He’s wanted Winterfell, though he didn’t want to nor had any intention to take it from Robb. But he’s known since he was a small boy that he could never Winterfell and that would never inherit anything because he was a bastard. Jon also has thoughts, at least in passing, that Ned loved Robb more than him. He perceives Ned as having been more proud of Robb, of looking at him differently than himself. He’s seemingly always believed this, but there is a sort of confirmation of Jon’s feelings when Ned allows him to join the Night’s Watch without much preparation on what the Watch is actually like. Fully me making assumptions here, not something Jon has explicitly thought, but it’s unlikely that Ned would have sent Bran off at 14 to the Watch without much warning of what it was like, had Bran not become paralyzed. While we never get this exact thought process from Jon, in my opinion it fits into his psychology and insecurity. All this to say, if Jon is offered to be a figurehead, King, a title equal to his brother, but without taking anything away from the Starks or from Robb, that would almost certainly scratch that itch in him. It would be of his own merit, and there would be people behind him that don’t care that he’s a bastard, don’t see him as less than, and are willing to accept him for who he is. Not to mention that it also lets him feel like a hero and as if he is saving something far more precious than himself. And it probably doesn’t hurt that he would be able to remain with Ygritte as well.

We know from the descriptions of Mance and Dalla, as well as from being told directly by the former, that the King and his wife dress like all the other Freefolk, in thick furs. While the Jon and Ygritte arts from above are not particularly ostentatious by Southron standards, they are in obvious contrast to how Mance and Dalla are dressed. My idea was that Jon, having lived South of the Wall in a Lord’s keep all of his life, brought his own ideas to the Freefolk and added a distinction between a King and all other men. Nothing like in King’s Landing, all changes are inspired by his experience at Winterfell. I tried to think of what was achievable by the Freefolk, that would be difficult enough that it can’t be easily replicated for everyone else, but also keeping in mind of what could be done relatively quickly seeing as the Freefolk are focused on migrating South and saving themselves from the Others. The cultures I took inspiration for the clothing from are the Byzantines, Russians, Incans, Aztecs, and Mongolians. I wanted more “open” and flowy clothing, as opposed to more closed off and excessively modest clothing of 1300-1500s Europe that most of Westeros is based off of. Ygritte is still wearing furs, but they are dyed and there is weirwood embroidery in symbolism of the Old Gods and flame embroidery to symbolize her being kissed by fire. Her jewelry are simply clay beads that have been powdered blue. I didn’t want to give her any jewels as I felt it would be too difficult for the Freefolk to cut them directly and just overall would be against the spirit of the Freefolk. However, getting the blue on the clay like that still would be expensive and take a lot of time. I tried to keep the main color scheme surrounding gray as obviously that’s House Stark’s color. Jon’s clothes are similarly nice, with my main concern being him looking intimidating. I want the furs around his shoulders to be black because I wanted to call back to his time in the Night’s Watch without him keeping his psychical cloak, because I’m sure the Freefolk would not want him to do that. The furs are massive and make his shoulders look far larger, in an effort to make him look more intimidating, especially on a battlefield or in negotiations. He also has weirwood embroidery and his sigil is on the front of his outfit (my original idea was for him to have a flag with his heraldry on it, in which case the sigil would have looked far different, with a full length direwolf). There’s a white wolf on one side and either a crow or eagle on the other side (up for interpretation, both are relevant to Jon and one is one of the animals that can be used a symbol of the Freefolk) and the flame in the middle to represent Ygritte, but also defeating the Others as fire is the way Jon originally tried combating them as a steward at the Wall. The sigil is more than about Jon, after all, as it’s for the entirety of House Whitewolf, the House he founds. I thought the name fit far more in to Freefolk culture than something like Whitestark or something along those lines. Ygritte was supposed to have sewn on the sigil herself, and was very adamant about it, and that is meant to be why the thread is uneven and more visible than it ought to be. She’s not very good at the craft!

As I indicated before, crowns are not something common to Freefolk. That would be something else Jon would implement. Ygritte’s crown is very much like a hat, very casual. The beads are nice but obtaining them wouldn’t be unheard of, and holly most likely would not be particularly hard to come by. The reason I gave her a crown with holly is that during Christmas in the Tudor period and even before during pagan celebrations, people would go out into the woods and find holly and ivy to decorate their houses with. Holly was a symbol of masculine energy and ivy feminine energy. If you found more holly, it was meant to indicate that the man would rule the household for the year, and if you found more ivy then the woman would rule the household in the coming year (this was a way to “tell the future” not a rule lol). I liked the holly better for Ygritte so I’m just saying the Freefolk had the opposite belief. Jon’s crown is made of weirwood, which was important to me as I feel like his connection the Old Gods is also important as it is something that him and Freefolk both use to guide them. It ties them together. That being said, a weirwood crown is often used for Bran so I did not want to use a design that was too similar to the one used for him. Bran’s weirwood crown usually is made of weirwood branches, however, and not weirwood bark or logs, so I feel like it’s different enough. The frozen weirwood sap, as far as I know, is also unique to this design. There’s also some ivy to parallel with Ygritte’s holly.

The remaining bits and bobs I wanted to explain are the blue rose and then the face paint. The blue rose is obviously something associated with Lyanna Stark, who is widely accepted to be the mother of Jon Snow. I originally wanted to give him a rose somewhere, whether he was holding it or it was in his embroidery, but I forgot to ask during sketching, and then it was too late. But Ygritte holding the blue rose isn’t just about Lyanna. It’s also about Bael the Bard, a most likely fictitious person (or at least, the tale is fictitious, though I personally choose to believe it’s real) that went South of the Wall posing as a bard. He impressed the Lord of Winterfell so much that he granted Bael anything he wished; all Bael asked for was the most beautiful flower in Winterfell. This was granted for him, but the next morning he had stolen the Lord of Winterfell’s only child, a girl, and had left the flower in her bed in her place. He hid in the crypt with her for a year and they had a son together. Bael eventually went back North of the Wall and eventually Winterfell, having no other heir, passed to Bael’s child. Under this story, Jon is descended from Ygritte’s idol (maybe idol is stretching it, but she really likes him), Bael the Bard. Not only him, but all the Freefolk including Ygritte, according to her story. Following the story’s premise, Jon also poses as Bael and Ygritte as Winterfell’s daughter, with Jon joining her home under false pretenses and “stealing her”, as she calls it. So the blue rose has significance regarding both the Starks and the Freefolk. The face paint is inspired by tattooing done by cultures indigenous to North America. Indigenous Americans are not the only groups to use facial tattooing, the Vikings were famous for it as well, but Viking facial tattooing had more patterns based on shapes rather than lines and dots. I didn’t like the shapes so much, but the chin tattoo was one was that observed in all sorts of different cultures. Usually the chin tattoos with the line were on women in indigenous America, but I found some on men in other outside cultures. The dots I didn’t see outside of Native American culture and the claw marks on Jon’s cheeks I found mainly among Vikings. Because these all are an amalgamation of different cultures, we did them as face paint instead of tattoos because it seemed disrespectful otherwise. Not enough research went into it to be a proper representation of any one culture so paint was a better bet than a permanent body modification that is sacred to a number of cultures. The only thing that was meant to be a tattoo was the chin tattoo, which like I said, actually is from an amalgamation of cultures. Among the Freefolk (in this AU), dots on the cheeks are widespread, one of cultural mainstays of their people, and are generally a sign of peace, whereas the claws are meant to look intimidating and is applied to look like blood (Ygritte applies it for Jon) and is specifically used for military leaders. I really wanted to drive home the point that the goal with Jon’s whole look is to look fearsome.

I have so much more to say about Jon as King Beyond the Wall, how he negotiates with the Wall, the different rules he sets in place, how he sets up being King as a hereditary title once his daughter Bael is born, etc etc, but then I’d be here all day and approximately one person total read through all this. Oops! Ask in my inbox if you have any questions because I would love love love to answer them. All in all, shripscapi (Liesl) is so talented and she worked incredibly hard for me. She was extremely accommodating and changed as much stuff as I wanted. She never complained about the million times I decided something was not quite right and she sent me so many updates. I would recommend working with her to just about anybody. It was very cool what she was able to achieve and I got it in time for the holidays so I can enjoy my winter themed pfp on twt. So thank you from the bottom of my heart Liesl, and I hope everyone showers her with compliments because she deserves it. I also hope that people that don’t enjoy Ygritte very much can still appreciate the art and the concept of Jon as King Beyond the Wall. Hopefully I’ve gotten across how much I love and care for these characters to a chronically online degree and nobody accuses me of mischaracterizing them because that would make me!!!! very sad!!!

Bonus Jon with weirwood leaves:

[umbrella-show]

ᴏʜ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ!

When you were transported to this world, you had just so happened to land in the unexplored forest close to the Cookie Kingdom. You had quickly stumbled across it and were seen by a cookie.

You were soon connected to the Legend of the Baker and cookies insisted you should  officially become ruler of the Cookie Kingdom.

Custard Cookie III was a bit reluctant at first. He did really want to be king, but you were the Baker. You were WAY more important than him. You should definitely rule!

However, the minute you were officially crowned, he ran up to you and begged you to teach him how to be a great ruler so one day, when you step down, he can rule.

And you, being sympathetic and not thinking of a reason why this could be a bad idea, accepted.

Ever since, he’s been visiting you whenever he can and persistently asking about what you do as a ruler.

He wants to know everything. He wants to become a just and powerful king when he eventually takes the throne!

As he gets to know you more, visits become almost daily. He rants to you about anything and everything.

He mostly rants about what he would do as king. How he would help his kingdom thrive. It warms your heart, watching him talk about his desire to make sure every cookie in the kingdom would be happy under his rule.

Eventually, the idea of inheriting the throne almost makes him feel a bit bad. If you ever had to give up power, it would be because something bad would have to happen to you.

He doesn’t want that! It makes him feel sad. He’s not ready yet.

All of his worries and emotions eventually boil over during one of his visits. He cried and hugged your leg as he told you his realization through tears. 

You spent a while comforting him until he stopped crying, reassuring you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Despite the emotional visit, he acted completely fine the next day when he ran into your office and eagerly began ranting and asking you about royal advice.

He does that the most. He asks you about what you do as ruler and asks you to teach him how to do it so he’s prepared.

Overall, he really looks up to you. He wants to be just like you. He’s like a younger sibling, copying everything you and proclaiming he’ll be just like you. Just like the legendary Baker.

“Why are you looking at so many papers?”

You looked over at Custard Cookie III, who was standing on a chair and peering down at the document you were currently reading. He was visibly confused, his eyes trying to read it. His voice raised as he grew slightly frustrated at the hard time he was having trying to read the document.

“I can’t understand any of this! What does frivolous even mean?!”

You only chuckled, tapping your pen against the table. You gently ruffled his fluffy golden hair, causing him to pout and complain.

“H-Hey, watch the crown!”

Smiling, you stopped, returning to your previous task. Your eyes were glued onto the document, carefully reading word by word. Your eyes shifted from one word to the next and Custard could easily notice the intense focus in your eyes as you carefully read the fine print.

“Most of these papers are about approving trades from the Jelly Bear train and other suppliers, which I have to sign. Some are letters from one of the other Kingdoms that are mostly invites for dances or just meet ups. A lot of those are from the Hollyberry kingdom and Golden Cheese Kingdom.”

You responded, looking over the last paragraph and signing your signature at the bottom of the paper. You set the multiple paged document aside, grabbing another from the pile and starting the process all over again. Custard poted, raising his handmade scepter into the air and declaring.

“Well, when I’m king I’ll ban paperwork, so you’ll never have to do any again!”

You chuckled, finding his naivety amusing. You put your pen down, flexing the stiff muscles in your hand and stretching your arms in the air. Silence filled the room as you stretched, before you felt Custard suddenly grab the hem of your outfit, gently tugging. He looked up at you, his face troubled and his voice soft.

“Can we do something else?”

You stared at him, then the papers, then back at him. He was making puppy dog eyes. You could feel your resolve weaken at the sight. You softly sighed, getting up from your office chair and grabbing your coat. You could see Custard was beaming from the corner of your eyes, making you smile as he hastily grabbed his scepter.

“Alright. How about a walk through the garden?”

“Yay!”

You giggled at his excitement while you buttoned up your coat and walked over to the office doors, holding them open for him. You watched as he raced out the door and took your hand, practically skipping down the halls. You smiled as you saw he occasionally glanced at the banners and decorations hung on the walls.

“I can’t for this all to be mine one day. I’m going to be the best king anyone’s ever seen!”

“I believe you will.”

You quietly agreed, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He giggled as he began to run quicker down the walls and pulling you with him.

“I can’t wait to be king!”

Dont focus too much on the Baker's design I'm still tryin to figure it out 😭 🙏

[hanafubukki]

Summary: A normal day at Diasomnia's lounge.

“Mother.”

The previous chatter filled room became silent at the matter of fact tone.

Right before the explosion of sound, “SILVER?!”

“No need to yell, Sebek.”

“Who are you calling mother?!”

Silver pointed at you.

You had frozen at this point. One would think you were one of Malleus’ beloved gargoyles—well, grotesque more accurate to say, from the way you had turned into into stone.

What would you say? How do you react? Silver said it so matter of factly as if it was already true and set in stone.

You are happily in a relationship with Lilia. You two have been for a while now. It’s been amazing!

But mother?! It came out of nowhere. You won’t deny it gave you giddy feelings especially at the implications—but wait, how did Lilia take this news?

You twirl around to face him and the expression he has is one you have never seen before.

If you weren’t so taken by it, you would have taken a picture to save this moment forever. No matter, you doubt you would ever forget this sight.

In front of you, one Lilia Vanrouge smiled. A blush swept his cheeks to his ears. His eyes have a soft hue of rose magenta. He looked at you as if you were the center of the world and he but a planet pulled to you.

Oh-

“Marry me.”

You laughed.

You vaguely heard glassware shattering.

“You did not just ask me that!”

Of all the ways…

“I did,” Lilia cheekily grinned at you.

You leaned on your hand, smirking at him with eyebrows raised, “You’d think I’d say yes to that?”

He leaned closer to you, eyes turning dark, “You know you want this. I’m a hot commodity.”

You tilted his face closer to you, observing as his pupils dilate; breaths mingling before, “Any more of this and Sebek will have a stroke.”

You lightly push him away with your fingers.

You turned to see Sebek’s reactions had been muffled this entire time by Silver’s hand.

“You didn’t say no~~~”

You thought about it, but not really fully. You couldn’t hide the wide smile on your face even if you tried, and really, you weren’t trying at all.

“Okay, let’s get married.”

A flurry of green, black, pink, and limbs has you trapped on the couch. Kisses are placed all over your face and neck as both of your laughter resounds in Diasomnia’s lounge.

Bonus:

Malleus stared at the scene before him.

His eyes moved to Silver who nodded at him.

Ah. So they’ve finally taken the next step.

Malleus sighed internally, for all his wisdom and whimsy…Lilia was oblivious to matters important to him.

Really? How many times would one of them have to step in for him to see what was in front of him.

He calls me stubborn.

Malleus returns to his room after nodding a ‘well done’ to Silver.

He had a few letters to send, one of which to his grandmother. Lilia would need an increase in his allowance and you would need to meet her…

Truly. This is something he should have done already.

Well, that’s what family was for. To support each other, isn’t that right? Lilia?

…this story went from A -> C -> B -> H ahsjsjdjd 😂😂😆😆 I initially started this as a funny joke where Silver calls you “Mother.”… and then it snowballed to a proposal randomly absjsjdjdjd 😂😂💞💞💚💚

I swear at least a quarter of my stories is Lilia proposing. Ahsjsjdj which yes, very self indulgent of me because omg proposal by Lilia absjsjdjdn *internal screaming* love love love it ahhhh 💙💙💙🥰🥰🥰

But I just find it funny it happened so many times now. Something something for every nickel I have for this something something I’d have a dollar lolol

Some facts about this fic:

I love love adore the idea of Lilia blushing and the redness just spreading from his cheeks to his ears. Ahhhh the image in my head is so cute 😭😭💞💞

That proposal, as I said before, wasn’t there before. But then Lilia took over and said “yes, proposal.” And then we got proposals. I think I changed that scene about 3 or 4 times 😅😂 I couldn’t decide?? And Lilia was taking me in all directions on how the proposal would go and which dialogue. Seriously, this bat fae, taking me for a ride lolol

One example is you pulling him close instead of away and saying “yes” and he becomes flustered but then this bat fae said no; he wants some banter so I had to change it.

Malleus was supposed to show up and just accept the chaos in front of him and sit down to have coffee…but theeeennn mind went, what if it was planned? Lilia is…well, he’s oblivious at times but he is wise. Sometimes, he doesn’t know what he wants or he has trouble grasping onto it. Like…he doesn’t believe he deserve to have them. (Healing takes time after all).

We see how Silver literally had to ask for his name. Yes, Lilia had his reasons but he’s always had kept it to himself. Literally, had to be “I want your last name.” to him. So, the same thing applies here. His family stepped in and gave a push. Lol

Malleus’ last line at the end was influenced but Cater’s SSR Halloween where he goes, “Blood related or not, we are family aren’t we? Didn’t you promise to come to us for help when you needed it?” (not verbatim). I like the idea of reversing that on Lilia a bit. His family helping him out. ☺️☺️💞💞

[mythology-void]

okay so I was doing a Research™️ about ancient Greek etymology as one does and I found some Things that made me want to Violently Claw My Arms Off please allow me to force feed you my discoveries

So there are 2 words for "not" in ancient Greek, depending on the context: ou and mē. Having introduced himself in the Cyclops episode as " ou tis", or No-man, he then stabs Polyphemus in the eye. When Polyphemus' brothers come to check on him, they say this:

"... surely no man [mē tis] is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man [mē tis] is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?"

Right after this, after the other cyclopes ditch Polyphemus, Odysseus's inner monologue goes something like this:

"Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my clever strategem [metis]." (pronounced mEH-Tis)

Now, there's a difference between mē tis and metis. [mē tis] (pronounced mEH-Tis with a space between the syllables) is the literal translation for "no man". Metis is a word for extreme intelligence/cunning, which is something Odysseus is famous for.

Now, there are several examples of abuse of metis/intelligence in the Odyssey, but I think the juxtaposition between [mē tis], or the concept of anonymity, and metis, or extreme intelligence, is REALLY interesting. Odysseus's adoption of the title "No-man" was characteristic of metis--it was a really smart move that simultaneously hid him from the cyclops and avoided any future consequences. It was a highly effective strategy all wrapped up in a nest little package with a bow on it.

But when he revealed himself as Odysseus of Ithaca, effectively throwing off No-man (anonymity and [mē tis]), that was characterized as idiocy--he's essentially doxxed himself, and now he's doing to (spoiler alert) get tossed around the Mediterranean by Poseidon for the next 10 years.

This is really interesting because it lets you see the parallels/codependency between metis(intelligence) and humility. When Odysseus refused to allow himself to go unnoticed (hubris) he suffered for it. BUT when he declined instant glory/satisfaction (kleos) in order to achieve the long term goal of survival, he was rewarded with Athena's favor (pay attention. This part is important).

And this situation repeats itself MULTIPLE TIMES in the Odyssey--the EXACT SAME THING happens near the end of the book, with the suitors. When. Odysseus is dressed as a beggar and the suitors/Antinious are abusing him, he ACTIVELY CHOOSES not to react--he doesn't stand up and rip off his disguise and start hollering "TIS I, ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA! FEAR MY WRATH"

No. He sits there patiently and waits. He plans and schemes and quietly orchestrates their downfall without alerting them of it. Why? Because he learned his lesson the first time this happened. He buried his rage and adopted what was, according to Grace LA Franz, a more feminine form of metis, weaving a web of destruction for his enemies that ultimately resulted in their total annihilation (see Weaving a Way to Nostos: Odysseus and Feminine Metis in the Odyssey by Grace LaFranz). His patience allowed him to win the whole prize--no questions asked, no 10-year-long-business-trip strings attached--just the sweetness of a full victory. And he is, once again, rewarded with Athena's favor--both in the battle with the suitors and in the aftermath (cleanup/reuniting with Penelope).

This really reinforces the idea in the Odyssey that Odysseus's defining characteristic is not just his intelligence--it's his ability to learn from his mistakes. He used what he learned at the Lotus Eaters Island against Polyphemus--the Lotus Eaters drugged his men, so he drugged Polyphemus. He used what he learned from Circe and Polyphemus against the suitors--Circe used false sweetness and honeyed words to lure his men into a trap, so that's exactly what he did to the suitors. His hubris on Polyphemus' island cost his whole crew their lives, so he intentionally left well enough alone until the right time. He didn't just learn from his failures--he turned them into BATTLE STRATEGY.

i don't care what anyone says that is completely totally and objectively awesome

[starmocha]

from osmanthus to snowdrop

[Zayne/Reader ★ 16.2K words ★ Masterlist ★ Snowdrop Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] “Might already be carrying my baby,” he continued, “You like this thought, don’t you?” chapters ★ one | two | three | four | five tag list: beneath cut 【 request to be added 】

A/N: Sometimes you let your intrusive thoughts win and casually mention, "hey, what if sweet little baby Snowdrop from my toddler series was conceived from Zayne and MC's brat taming and breeding session" and your followers enabled you....... THIS IS THEIR FAULT (I love you guys, pls keep enabling me and my shenanigans 🥺💖) Inspired by two past blurbs I had written: “Afternoon Lessons” and “Lesson Learned (?)”. You can also follow the madness that is the Snowdrop Conception Fic to see how far down the rabbit hole I was yeeted into. Anyway. Chapter 1 of 5. Updated whenever I fancy. Bye. 💖

You almost wished the honeymoon period would never end, feeling like this time alone with Zayne was truly special. The wedding had been five months earlier, and as expected, many people were surprised that there was no immediate baby announcement.

You had heard some hushed whispers, seen the curious looks in their eyes, but of course, it would be so rude of them to walk straight up to you or Zayne and start asking questions. It wasn’t any of their business, really.

Truthfully, the topic of family had come up between you and Zayne prior to the marriage. Zayne, as always, wanted to be prepared, to make sure there was no miscommunications or misconception between the two of you. It was so long ago, so you couldn’t quite remember who had initiated the conversation first.

It was probably during one of those late nights in bed together. The world was quiet and a comforting stillness settled, and you had laid with him, enjoying each other’s warmth. Even in the worst calamity ever, Zayne’s presence always seemed to ground you, bringing you peace and comfort. You had hoped you were the same for him, wanting to offer him the same serenity he had always brought to you and be the sanctuary he needed when the world wore him down.

Now after marriage came the baby carriage, but it didn’t mean it had to happen immediately, you had thought, or even at all. Babies were still the furthest things from your mind, as there were other important matters in your life you had valued more. You had your career, your youth and time, and also your new husband. You wanted to enjoy these first few months as newlyweds with your husband, keeping this fleeting precious private time to just the two of you.

It didn’t mean you did not occasionally enjoy indulging in the idea of having a baby with him. In fact, you knew Zayne was particularly turned on by the notion of impregnating you with his baby. You had seen it in the way he would sometimes caress your flat belly, and over time, you were the one who experimented with treading that fine line, learning for yourself just how much this aroused him.

As it turned out, you also enjoyed this, too. You loved the very idea of him leaving you with a part of him to carry, something permanent to bind you and him together for life. The idea of being pregnant with his child would also be, in a way, an open display of not only his love for you, but a possessive hold he had.

Of course, sweet as he was, Zayne would never pressure you into having a baby if you weren’t ready yet. Thankfully, you were on birth control, so at the very least, you were able to indulge in his fantasy a little, keep him satiated in a way only you could.

The sweet honeymoon period seemed so endless, like it could last forever and ever as you both basked in marital bliss together. You enjoyed this intimate period alone with Zayne, waking up in bed with him, catching a late lunch together from time to time, or getting whisked away for a last-minute weekend getaway. You enjoyed moments like those, getting lost together with him in new cities, gorging on delicious meals and pastries with him, and curled up in bed with him, enjoying each other’s company, whispering sweet nothings, and lazing away together as if all of the time in the world was yours and yours alone.

Alone with him. Together with him.

Everything about this time with him was so romantic and exhilarating, feeling like your own private movie where you two starred in the leading roles of your very own love story. You couldn’t imagine wanting any of this to end, or anything to disrupt this time between you and him.

Everything was perfect as is.

Then, one day, as you and Zayne sat eating Sunday brunch together at a bistro in downtown Linkon City, you noticed a baby at the next table. She still seemed fairly young, though you weren’t familiar enough with such young children to even guess how old she was. The baby’s parents, however, were about the same age as you and Zayne, you noted. They looked like new parents taking their little one out for the first time since she was born.

They looked so overjoyed. You couldn’t help but admired the beautiful couple and their baby. There was something charming about this new family. The couple seemed so enthralled and enamored with their little one, delighting in every movement and every expression shown no matter how miniscule or innocuous they seemed to other bystanders. To them, she was their whole universe.

You vaguely wondered if such parental love was common, an instinctive nature that would come along in time. To love someone this young so immensely, you wondered if later in life when you and Zayne had your own little family, would this same love come so naturally to you?

Unknowingly, you were smiling along, startling only when the baby appeared to notice you and gurgled happily, her little arm reaching out for you from a table away.

Unconsciously, you smiled back as sweet as you could, and gave a little wave.

“Who are you waving at?” Zayne’s voice broke your trance.

“Ah—” You blushed in embarrassment at being caught, and lowered your arm, redirecting your attention to your perplexed husband. His brows furrowed in confusion, head tilted a little, as he waited for your response. You picked up your fork and poked at the soft-boiled egg on your plate, breaking its yolk and watching it smeared over your arugula salad. Shrugging, you took a bite of your meal, answering him after swallowing, “That baby at the next table was smiling at me.”

He discreetly peered at the table behind him, catching a glimpse of the couple getting ready to leave after paying for their meal. The baby also appeared to notice him over her father’s shoulder, and she reached out for Zayne, giggling and gurgling happily at him.

He chuckled and gave her a soft smile, also instinctively waving at her with just his fingers. He turned back to you with gentle eyes, commenting, “She’s cute.”

You beamed at him. “Did you see that adorable little dress she was wearing? She has such chubby little legs, I want to bite—why are you laughing at me?”

Zayne covered his mouth, suppressing his chuckles, but you could still see the twinkle of amusement in his beautiful hazel eyes. He apologized with a smile, reaching across the table for your hand. You felt his thumb brushing over your fingers as he responded to you, “You’ve never spoken about children in such a way.”

“What way? What do you mean?” You frowned in confusion.

“That is…” He seemed to hesitate with his explanation, causing you to urge him to finish his thought. With a sigh, he resumed, speaking carefully, “One might… assume you were interested.”

“Interested?”

“Having a baby.”

“O-Oh…” Your cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Suddenly, this bistro seemed so much warmer than it was earlier. With Zayne’s steady gaze still on you, you tried to maintain your composure, though the words he had just planted in your head made you more flustered than you realized. “I mean… that is going to happen eventually. We’ve talked about it before.”

He nodded in understanding. “I hope you don’t think I am seizing this as an opportunity to bring this discussion back into the picture?”

“No, no, of course not,” you reassured him. “It just… hit me suddenly.”

“Hm?”

You averted your gaze with him, shifting your sight back down to your plate of food, but suddenly you weren’t that interested in the meal anymore. Your free hand held a fork as you poked at the avocado on your plate. Zayne didn’t rush your response, but you couldn’t help but still felt a pressure looming over you, and you pondered over your words before you gathered your courage to speak more openly with him, “What if… we do circle back to this topic?”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Zayne, I—I think I’m ready to try for a baby,” you said quickly in one breath, your cheeks getting even hotter now. You could hear him breathed in quickly, his hand still holding yours tightened, his thumb brushing over your fingers faster.

When Zayne didn’t say anything, you mustered up your courage and glanced up, your heart beating faster when you saw the smile on his face. There was a dark gleam in his eyes, and you could practically see the wheels spinning in his head.

“We should… discuss this more at home tonight,” he said, voice lowered. You could almost hear a rasp in his voice, his suggestive tone nearly made you tremble in anticipation for the night, sensing there would actually be very little words exchanged between you both.

During the mostly silent drive home, there was a tension not quite different from when you and Zayne had first dated a few years ago. After leaving the bistro earlier in the day, you could hardly remember what you and Zayne did during your city outing, having been distracted all day by the conversation you both were planning on having later tonight.

Likewise, it felt like Zayne was just as distracted as you were. Throughout the day, he had responded with only monosyllable words, or sometimes he had just made a short noise either affirming or otherwise. Normally so quick-witted and sharp-tongued, today his mind appeared to be elsewhere as he went through the motions of the afternoon. The most shocking behavior change that you recalled from your husband, however, was his refusal to stop by a dessert shop for a treat or to buy something to bring home.

There was a sweeter treat Zayne had his eyes on. It had occupied his mind from the moment you had told him you were ready to have a baby. The dream future he had been waiting on was just within reach, and knowing you were ready to head down this path with him had him more elated than he would have ever thought possible.

With his eyes on the road, Zayne kept one hand on your thigh while the other gripped the steering wheel. You felt the way Zayne was rubbing along your thigh, occasionally squeezing, not even noticing his own actions until he heard your soft surprised gasp.

He apologized immediately, ears tinging red, almost unnoticeable with the sky darkening as the sun set.

“It’s alright,” you told him, though your heart was picking up speed and there was a coil forming in your belly. You placed your hand over his restless one, squeezing him back in reassurance.

As you silently consoled him, you felt your own nerves going haywire. You had opened a gate today, and though you knew Zayne would always let you have the final say whenever you wanted, always giving you room to back out if ultimately you changed your mind, you wondered if that was even something you needed to consider.

You loved Zayne. You wanted a family with him someday. That much you were sure of, so maybe, you wondered, that ‘someday’ had perhaps arrived today.

You peeked at his side profile, admiring his handsome sharp features. Unwittingly, you pictured a little mini-him. A mini-Zayne.

Without realizing it, you started to smile, delighting in the image forming in your mind. Zayne was so good with children. The children at Akso Hospital adored him. He may seem cold to most people at first, but to those willing to approach him, they would see how truly warm and caring he was, always prioritizing others before himself.

You knew in your heart the depths of his love would know no bounds for his child.

Along with the smooth drive home, the anxiety you were feeling earlier ebbed away the more you pondered over this. You still felt a sense of nervousness, knowing that he and you were going to embark down a path that would change the course of your lives forever. It would no longer be just the two of you, but perhaps, there was a different kind of joy, a new adventure awaiting you both in the future.

You and him and your little one.

You smiled softly, letting your mind drift further away as you watched the scenery passed by outside the car window.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, the last streaks of purple and orange giving way to twinkling stars as the car made a turn into your neighborhood. Streetlamps lit up one by one, lighting the way home down the quiet, near vacant road.

Once Zayne pulled into the driveway, you both exited the car, entering the dark house silently. Before you could even turn on the lights, Zayne grabbed your wrist, twirling you around and pinning you to the nearest wall. Your eyes widened in surprise when he gripped both of your wrists with one hand, holding them above your head as he leaned forward, his head bent lower to meet your gaze.

“Zayne—”

His lips crashed upon yours, swallowing your voice as he kissed you feverishly with only a few words slipping out in between.

“My baby…” he husked, breaking away just long enough to look at you, to search for any lingering doubts in your eyes, “Are you sure… you’re ready?”

Your heart beat faster again, cheeks flushed from his earlier intense kisses. You didn’t think he was going to be this impatient with circling back to this topic, having expected a more composed conversation on the couch or perhaps seated across one another at the dining table. Instead, whatever thoughts Zayne had been mulling over during the silent drive home had reached its peak and he was no longer willing to drag out this conversation another second.

“Yes… Yes,” you responded.

Your words didn’t seem to reassure him. He looked hesitant, as if he was afraid that this could just be a spur of the moment thought. You knew he prioritized your wellbeing above his own desires, and you also knew that he was aware of your impulsive nature. Of the two of you, he had taken on the role to be the one to hold onto any semblance of rationality, and in this moment, that was still true with how admirably he still managed to maintain that thinning hold of self-control.

You wriggled against Zayne, silently urging him to remove his hand from your wrists. He obliged, and just as quickly, you threw your arms around his neck, returning his earlier intense kisses tenfold.

Zayne stumbled back in surprise, one arm instantly around your waist to steady you.

“I’m not being flighty,” you told him firmly. “I’m serious this time.”

“You—”

“I’m not messing with you this time,” you insisted, feeling your emotions were heightening suddenly. You pleaded with him, “Zayne…”

He reached down, cupping your face in his hands, keeping his sight on you. He breathed in deeply, taking in the sincere tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

“I want a baby,” you told him resolutely, emphasizing strongly, “your baby.”

Zayne breathed in sharply, feeling like time had just stopped. The words you had just spoken replayed in his mind, your earnest expression all he could see in this moment. Slowly, he smiled, letting his forehead pressed against yours.

“For real this time?”

“Uh huh,” you answered with a smile, feeling like you could drown in his beautiful green eyes. “Are you ready to fuck a baby into me?”

He laughed at your bold, outrageous question. With his tone a strange mix between amusement and exasperation, he chided you, “You’re ruining the moment.”

“I don’t care,” you answered back cheekily, leaning up to peck his nose with a kiss. “What do you say?”

“Once you are no longer on your birth control,” he started, ignoring your instant eyeroll at his sudden proper mannerism. He continued, the delight shining in his eyes revealed his true feelings on the matter in that instance before he could even finish his thought: “Absolutely.”

You almost threw your arms around his neck again, stopping only when he continued to speak, his tone suddenly stern.

“You better be ready,” he warned, a familiar smirk graced his handsome face.

You nearly trembled with anticipation, quite certain you could see a pleased, calculating glint in his eye.

Zayne was meticulous.

He did everything well.

And this…

This will be no different, you realized.

For the next several weeks, your sex life with Zayne felt more intense than past instances, since this time, you both were no longer playing out a fantasy or indulging in each other’s whims. All of those lecherous words you had exchanged before now held more truth than ever, and you answered his desires with your own, both of you having never been more in sync than during this period.

You wanted a baby, and so did Zayne.

You were no longer role-playing a secret shared fantasy.

Zayne was now actively trying to impregnate you, breeding you every chance he could. In the morning before work, or late at night when he came home, his stamina unheard of as he was always prepared to stuff your willing wet pussy with his cock, pumping you full of his virile seed until he had you crying from the intensity.

“Soon, soon,” he murmured against your ear as your legs locked around his waist, keeping him firmly to you.

“Yes… yes…” you sobbed back, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, Zaynie! I need your cum inside me. All of it. Inside me.”

His beathing grew erratic before he laughed into the crook of your neck. “You’re too much…” he said, nearly in disbelief by how uninhibited you were. He sighed heavily against you, “I’m going to lose my mind because of you.”

“You will keep me full like this, won’t you, Zayne? Please, Zaynie…”

He kissed your temple. “You’re so unfair,” he whispered, “You know I could never deny you anything.”

You cupped his face, your lips meeting his soundly, so sweetly he was pressing his weight onto you, trapping you within his hold.

“We’re not stopping,” he breathed heavily, his eyes darkened with desires, “Not until you are pregnant, my love.”

He kissed you again, ravaging your lips until you were sure they would bruise. His voice was soft, but the weight of his words stoked the growing flames of passion between you both. “Not until my baby is in your womb.”

And you knew Zayne was a man of his words.

You had thought you knew what you were expecting when you had decided to stop using protection, determined to get pregnant as soon as possible. You had expected that it would all happen immediately, but when you saw that first sign of bleeding signaling your period, you let your disappointment showed.

Zayne, as always, remained the most level-headed of the two of you.

As you curled up on the couch, under a warm blanket, hugging Mr. Seal close to your stomach, you watched as your husband approached from the kitchen with a cup of red date tea, such as he had done monthly for several years now. He sat down next to you and passed the cup over.

“Drink this,” he said, “It will help with your cramps.”

You reluctantly accepted it, taking little sips of the hot beverage. You felt a comforting warmth in your belly. You peered into the mug, your mind drifting back to linger further in your disappointments.

“Hey.”

You looked up, meeting Zayne’s gaze. His expression remained gentle and understanding, already having read you like a book, knowing full well the reason—or rather, reasons—for your current agitated state.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, taking the cup of tea back when you handed it to him. He placed it on a coaster on the coffee table and settled more comfortably on the couch, watching as you shifted over to rest against him. Instinctively, his arms were around you as he comforted you.

“No,” you whispered into his chest, feeling your eyes watering up. You quickly blinked them away.

“Alright,” he answered affably, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly.

You looked up, frowning. “‘Alright’?” you repeated in astonishment. “You’re not going to keep pressing?”

“You said ‘no,’” he reminded you with an insufferable, teasing smile. “Would you have also gotten upset if I had kept pursuing this discussion?”

Hearing his response, you hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

“Ah,” he said with an exaggerated lilt in his voice, “So I take it this would have been a lose-lose situation no matter what from my position?”

You humph’d at him before burying your face back into his chest. “I think I’m allowed to be upset.”

“You are,” he agreed, smiling at your petulant attitude. He reached down, his hand holding your chin gently up so your eyes met his. Softly, he said, “It’s alright.”

From just hearing those two words spoken in his soothing tone, you felt the wall you had tried to put up breaking down and the tears you had attempted to hold back started trickling down your cheeks. Just as quickly, Zayne was cupping your face with his hands and his thumbs were already working to wipe away your tears. His voice remained calm as he comforted you while you cried silently.

You were sure you had been crying for a few minutes before you were able to compose yourself enough to speak. Suddenly, you felt a little insecure, feeling like you couldn’t fully look at him in the eyes. Reluctantly, you started to speak again, “I know I’m being silly…”

“You are allowed to feel the way you do,” he reassured you.

“But…”

“Yes?”

You looked down, feeling embarrassed. The feeling didn’t remain long, because suddenly you found yourself crying out in surprise when Zayne gathered you into his lap. You looked up shocked, eyes shutting when his warm lips met your forehead. You opened your eyes again and looked at him in confusion.

“Let’s talk.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have to…”

“None of that attitude anymore,” he chided you. “You are clearly more upset than you let on, so let’s talk. You will feel better and I will also feel better.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the latter part of his comment. Seeing your expression, he clarified, “I don’t like seeing you this troubled and feeling like I can’t help alleviate your frustrations or anxiety.”

His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you into a warm hug with his chin resting lightly atop your head. “Let’s help each other out,” he said, “I want to know what’s exactly on your mind and I want you to ease my own concerns.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, your hand touching his arm. You contemplated for a moment, unsure of how to put your feelings into words at first. After a few seconds, you admitted to him openly, “I’m sad I didn’t get pregnant immediately.”

He kissed the side of your head. “I understand,” he said, “Is there more to this than simply sadness?”

“I’m… worried that I might not be able to get pregnant,” you added, your voice getting softer, as if you yourself were afraid of hearing your secret inner fear spoken aloud. This was a different kind of vulnerability than you were used to sharing with Zayne, so you didn’t dare look at him in spite of knowing full well that he would never judge you for your feelings and fears.

You heard a soft sigh before Zayne spoke again. “We’ve only started trying recently,” he said, “There is nothing abnormal about not conceiving immediately.”

“I know…”

“Do you feel like I am pressuring you to get pregnant quickly?”

You shook your head and Zayne smiled. “Good,” he said, “Because I am not. I do want a baby with you, but not at the risk of your own wellbeing—and that includes your emotional wellbeing as well.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“Let’s take it slowly,” he said, his hand under your chin again. He tilted your chin up, his lips approaching yours, and his voice remaining that soft, even tone, “When it happens, it will happen.”

“Ah—but—”

“And if a year from now,” he interrupted you, “we are still unsuccessful, then we can begin looking into our fertility.”

He kissed you quickly, and you blinked in surprise. He smiled at you helplessly, saying, “I do believe you might be overreacting a little. It hadn’t been long—”

This time you were the one who surprised him, catching him off-guard when you suddenly leaned up to kiss him and stopped him from speaking further. He didn’t even try to resist, letting you take charge. You felt his hands on your hips, holding you steady while your hands rested on the plane of his chest. You broke away first, breathing a little heavier than earlier.

“Goddamn you, Zayne,” you said breathily.

He quirked his eyebrow up, his own breathing also a little unsteady. He wasn’t expecting you to curse at him.

You smiled. “Why do you always have to be so level-headed?”

He rolled his eyes. “I do not believe the two of us spiraling together would be beneficial in the slightest.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” you conceded lightheartedly. You hugged him back. “Thank you for letting me be the insane one in the relationship.”

He chuckled and returned your hug. “I have never once said you were insane…”

You hummed against his chest, your mood feeling brighter now. Mulling over his earlier words, you knew Zayne was right about what he had said, feeling like you were overreacting a little. Now that everything was out in the open, you even felt a little silly, wondering why you were in such a rush to get pregnant all of a sudden when your recent bout of baby fever came not so long ago.

“Okay!”

Zayne startled, unprepared for your sudden outburst. He peered down at you, waiting, wondering what was going through your head in this moment.

“I’m done moping,” you declared, smiling at him. “I wasn’t stressed about this before, so why should I stress now?”

He nodded in agreement.

“And like you said… when it happens, it will happen.”

He nodded again with a smile, pleased to see you returning to your usual bright demeanor again.

“Zayne?”

“Hm?”

“When you said ‘take it slowly’… you weren’t thinking of taking a break, did you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not unless you tell me to—”

“I’m not,” you interrupted, grinning, “I want things to keep staying the same.”

You leaned forward, resting your head on his chest as his strong arms held you against him. You winced suddenly and Zayne looked down in concern.

“My cramps…”

He smiled helplessly again and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t I take you back to our bed and I’ll massage your stomach and you rest?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you agreed. You pouted at him. “Carry me?”

“Darling, you didn’t even need to ask,” he responded, kissing you again before he lifted you into his arms and headed for the bedroom.

It seemed like life fell back into its old routine after you and Zayne had discussed your current situation again. As it turned out, time together quickly became fleeting as both of your careers monopolized the majority of your time.

There were still moments together, but it was mostly exchanging text messages, or meeting for a quick meal once in a while, or simply just catching one another in passing. Time spent together—particularly intimately—were sparser than either of you would have liked, but it couldn’t be helped.

Zayne had numerous surgeries lined up for weeks and you yourself also had missions that required your full attention.

“Just look on the bright side,” Zayne told you over a video call one night. You were currently away in another town for a disaster relief mission while Zayne had to remain back in Linkon because of his own work schedule. He smiled at you through the screen in an attempt to reassure you, though your persistent pout proved to him that he was not doing an exemplary job at the moment. In any case, he continued, “At least both of our busy schedules aligned together, so neither one of us has to feel lonely.”

“I guess so,” you mumbled at him as you paced your hotel room. “I still miss you… and not because I am in another town.”

“I know,” he responded, “I miss you, too.”

You gave him a small smile, feeling somewhat placated by his own admission and mutual feelings.

“It won’t be long,” Zayne reassured you. “By the end of this month, I won’t have as many surgeries lined up for a while and I’m sure your own workload will lighten as well.”

Your smile widened.

Next month, you remembered, would be September.

As in, Zayne’s birthday month.

Instantly giddy, your brain started working in overdrive to plan a birthday surprise for Zayne, feeling like it would be the perfect opportunity for you both to rekindle your relationship after this recent spell of busyness that had been keeping you both apart from one another.

“Alright, I’m glad to see you smiling again,” Zayne said, seemingly unaware of the true reason behind your sudden mood change.

You decided it was best to let him believe otherwise so you could maintain the element of surprise for his birthday. You simply nodded and tried to redirect the conversation to him instead.

It worked. You smiled along as Zayne described his days, picturing in your mind the image of him going around the hospital and after work walking home, passing by a dessert shop he wanted to try out with you when you returned from your mission. After a few more minutes of speaking, your eyes felt heavier, but you still tried to keep the conversation going since after all, this was the first lengthy conversation you and Zayne had together in a while.

“It’s late,” Zayne said suddenly, catching on to your attempts to stay awake. He smiled and continued, “Say good night to me.”

You instantly perked up at his words and tone. You frowned a little, asking, “Why do you always do that?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ‘hm?’ me!” you said, vexed, “You know what you just did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he answered evenly, though you could have sworn there was a mischievous smirk on his face. You stiffened up a little when he continued in that same authoritative tone again, “Say good night to me.”

You waited a few seconds.

He also remained patient as well.

Your lips twitched.

Zayne smirked.

“…Good night, Zaynie…”

He smiled, pleased. “Good night, my love,” he answered, “Sweet dreams.”

Zayne was right.

He was pretty much always right, you realized, feeling both pride and annoyance by the fact.

As August neared its end, you felt like you could breathe again at work as the tasks you had to perform lessened and the increased number of hunters available meant that there was no need for you to cover as many areas as you have been doing these last few weeks.

Since returning home from your previous mission, you had also managed to find ways to sneak in some alone time with Zayne whether it was surprising him in his office or waiting for him after his late shifts. In time, he even returned the gestures, stealing moments with you when he could.

It wasn’t uncommon to see him dropping you off at work, or meeting him for a quick milk tea break. You still missed the long hours alone with him, but for now, the little moments together were still more welcomed than not seeing him at all.

In some way, you began treating this temporary period like when you two had first started dating and was struggling to find that balance of work and meeting one another. You smiled at the memory.

“What’s making you smile so much?” Zayne asked when he approached your waiting spot on a park bench. He held up a paper bag. “A croissant breakfast sandwich or a honey castella?”

You smiled wryly, noting the obvious choice of savory versus sweet. While Zayne would not be disappointed if you did take the sweet treat instead, you liked the small smile he would wear on his face when you let him have the sweeter choice. “The breakfast sandwich.”

He chuckled and passed the paper bag of food to you. You reached inside and pulled out the breakfast sandwich. Wrapped in a beige parchment paper, the croissant sandwich was still warm and smelled of egg and sausage. Your stomach grumbled a little.

“Now,” he continued with a playful smile on his face, his other hand holding up a paper tray containing two cups of coffee, “a cinnamon maple latte or salted caramel mocha?”

You licked your lips a little. “They both sound good,” you said, still pondering.

He smiled and sat down next to you on the bench, setting the drinks to the side. “Then we’ll share both.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling in delight. “I’m glad you can have breakfast with me today.”

He peered down at his watch. “I’m afraid it won’t be long though,” he answered. “I need to return to the hospital by ten.”

“I understand,” you responded, a little disappointed, “I can’t take a long break either. We have a team meeting at eleven today.”

You bit into your sandwich, enjoying the instant savory flavor dancing on your tongue. “Okay, no more talks about work! We can’t waste our precious time together with things like that.”

Zayne nodded in agreement, amused by your bright personality. “Okay, then you still haven’t answered my earlier question.”

“Hm?”

“Why were you smiling so much earlier?”

You pondered over his words before remembering. Your cheeks turned a little rosy, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “It’s silly…”

“Tell me,” He urged, taking a sip of his drink. He appeared surprised by the flavor.

Noticing this, you tried to use it as a way to deflect the conversation from you. “Which flavor is that?”

“The latte,” he said, clarifying, “The cinnamon maple latte.”

“Do you not like it?”

He took another sip. “They overdid it on the cinnamon,” he said after taking three more sips.

You laughed. “Then why are you still drinking it?”

You stole the cup from him and took a sip yourself, grimacing at the overpowering scent of cinnamon. You decided to chase the drink with the salted caramel mocha, preferring the latter over the former. You held up your half-eaten sandwich to your husband. “Want a bite?”

He shook his head.

“Have a bite,” you demanded.

“When did this offer turn into a demand, Miss Hunter?”

“Right now,” you said, grinning as you pushed the sandwich closer to his mouth. He eyed you with a look of amusement, feigning exasperation before he bit into the croissant. You watched him chewed and swallowed the food, your voice exclaiming suddenly, “Oh, you got something on your mouth—"

Before Zayne could react, you already leaned up and kissed him, playfully nipping and licking his mouth clean. When you pulled away, he pretended to glare at you, though the smile on his face gave away his true feelings. He kissed you briefly again before poking your nose with his finger.

“I see Miss Hunter has resorted to trickery to get what she wants.”

“It was just a—”

He kissed you again, a bit longer and a bit deeper than earlier, feeling like he was making up for the long absence and all of those times apart. When he finally paused, his lips just mere centimeters from your own, you heard him murmured, “You never need to trick me to get what you want. I would give you everything you ask for.”

Your cheeks tinged pink, your mind dizzied by the kisses, by his words, by him. Your food was left on the bench, now forgotten as your entire attention was on him. You cupped his face, feeling like it had been a while since you were this close to him—both physically and emotionally. A smile crept onto your face as you relearned his features, noticing he appeared slimmer than you remembered.

“I know you’ve been busy, but you need to eat on time,” you chided him.

He smiled at your scolding and nodded.

Your eyes glanced at the faint bags under his eyes. “And sleep when you can,” you added. You reached up, your thumb brushing under one of his eyes. “Even a doctor needs to rest and follow his own advices.”

He chuckled. “How did this breakfast together turned into my wife scolding me?”

“You don’t like having a naggy wife?”

He laughed. “I did not say that,” he protested. He kissed you again, and murmured to you, “I know why you’re doing this.”

“Hm? Doing what?” you feigned obliviousness.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said instead. “I’ve missed you a lot. So, so much…”

“Ah—our…our coffee is getting cold…”

He huffed in amusement. “I do not care,” he said, “Do you?”

“No…”

Just as Zayne was about to lean in for another kiss, you both heard the sound of a timer going off. Glancing down, you saw that it was your phone, signaling the end of your breaktime with him. You both sighed in disappointment.

“You better head back to the hospital or you’ll be late,” you said, voice tinged with clear disappointment. Unconsciously, you had grabbed onto his hand, holding tight in spite of your words. He noticed the gesture, but did not say anything.

Suddenly, you felt Zayne cupping your cheek, and you looked to him, seeing that same disappointment in his smile. He reassured you gently, “Just a few more weeks. I don’t have that many surgeries left this month, and my schedule should lighten by next month as well.”

You tried to smile and nodded. Suddenly, you remembered the birthday plans you had secretly made. There was so much to look forward to and preparations you still needed to do, so you began to forget about the current situation.

“You know…”

“What is it?” Zayne asked.

“This feels like when we first started dating,” you said, seeing the immediate confusion on his face.

“Hm?”

You laughed at his puzzled expression. “Don’t you remember?” you asked, poking his cheek in jest. “We were always so busy with our jobs, so it was a task just trying to find time to meet up.”

As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Zayne’s eyes brightened in understanding. He chuckled and nodded.

“There was something you said once that stayed with me for a while…”

“Something I said?”

“I remember telling you how if we’re seeing each other on Sunday, then I would start getting ready on Saturday. And you said—”

“‘If I’m able to see you Sunday… I’ll start getting excited Thursday.’”

“You remembered…”

He smiled and leaned forward, closing the small gap between you both. “How could I forget anything when it comes to you?”

“Zayne…”

He brushed his lips over yours, whispering softly, “But thankfully now whenever I want to see you, I just need to come home.”

You smiled. “You are going to be late heading back,” you reminded him.

“Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours once more before standing up.

Nodding again, you saw him off as you made your own trip back to your workplace, smiling brighter as you still felt Zayne’s lingering kisses on your lips.

As Zayne had said previously, his own schedule was becoming less hectic in the coming weeks, which meant soon, you would have him all to yourself.

Or so you had thought.

“Wait a minute,” you said one morning, startled by a seemingly innocuous comment your husband had just made. You furrowed your brows in confusion before asking softly, “So you are going to be working on your birthday again?”

Zayne turned to look at you, already knowing all of the thoughts racing through your head. It also didn’t help that you couldn’t maintain a poker face, your true feelings seen clearly in your disappointed expression. He walked over and cupped your face, his lips pressed to your forehead in reassurance.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he said. “It had slipped my mind that it was going to be on a weekday, and besides, we can always celebrate the weekend before or after.”

You mumbled in agreement, though it remained obvious to your husband that you were still not appeased by his rational reasoning. You yelped in surprise when he suddenly pinched your cheeks. “Ah—quit it, Zayne!”

He chuckled and apologized immediately, though you couldn’t help but noticed the lack of sincerity, feeling like his smile was just a tad wider than it should be. You lightly glared at him and he apologized again. “Come now,” he said, “Wipe that glare off your face. You’re acting like it was your birthday I had ruined.”

“It’s just…”

“Just what? Tell me.”

You sighed in defeat before relaying to him the plans you had made. You were planning on taking him out for breakfast at a nice café before spending the morning wandering through an art museum with him. There was even a new bistro in town you wanted to try out with him, and later you thought of taking him to a bookstore and for ten whole minutes, you were going to let him pick out as many books as he wanted and you were going to pay for everything. Afterwards, you had even planned on an afternoon break at a bakery, letting him indulge in as much sweets as he would like.

Just before you could continue onto the next phase in your birthday plan for him, Zayne stopped you, his hands resting on your shoulders and his eyes a little wider than normal, completely surprised by the level of planning you had already made. To your confusion, he suddenly laughed, appearing delighted.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It sounds like it would have been a wonderfully… packed day.”

You pouted in spite of his laughter. “It would have… I even scheduled a day off to be with you,” you told him, adding accusatorily, “I thought you would have done the same…”

He apologized again. “I’m sorry. The meeting came up suddenly, and I can’t back out of it on short notice.”

You continued to sulk.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand gripping your chin. He lifted it so your eyes met his. “How about a raincheck then? We can do a makeup day the next weekend.”

“It won’t be the same,” you said softly, realizing you were also behaving like a petulant child right now, but you couldn’t help this immense feeling of disappointment you felt.

You gasped when Zayne’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, your face now pressed to his chest. You peered up just as he leaned down to meet your lips. You started to smile again, feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

“For what?” you stared back quizzically. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Just for remembering my birthday—better than me, even—and for…” he kissed you again before his forehead pressed to yours. “Just for caring about me this much.”

As you gazed into his kind, loving eyes, a thought popped into your head. A new idea had sprouted, already making you forget your earlier disappointment. Zayne said you were bad at hiding your feelings, but in this moment, he hadn’t seemed to notice that telltale mischievous glint in your eye. You feigned disappointment again, hoping he wouldn’t catch on.

“I just wanted you to have a nice birthday, Zayne.”

He laughed. “I know you do, and you always make them memorable.”

You almost wanted to laugh along with him, but you maintained your despondent demeanor. You continued to act stiff with him. “Just remember it’s your fault if this year is not as nice as everything I’ve planned previously.”

“Yes, yes,” he sighed as you scolded him, holding you more firmly to him again. “I think I can survive dealing with the occasional underwhelming birthdays.”

“Just remember, this is your fault.”

“Yes, yes, it’s my fault I will have such an unmemorable birthday.”

You snuggled into his embrace, hiding your mischievous smile from view.

Unmemorable? Ha! We’ll see about that, Zaynie…

On the morning of Zayne’s birthday, you woke up to an empty bed, surprised that he had already left for work without saying anything to you. You sighed and stayed lounging in bed for a while, your eyes occasionally darting to the clock to check the time every few minutes.

It was just about eight, and you surmised that Zayne would probably be settling into his office by now going through reports and the likes before his meeting at ten. Had it been any other day, you would also be at your own job either writing up a report or being out in the field, but since September 5th was such a special day to you, you had planned a month in advance to have this day off for your husband’s birthday.

You realized it was a tiny bit of your own fault for not at least reminding him to schedule the day off as well. You huffed, mildly annoyed. Well, you thought, after several birthdays together, one would think he would be more in tune with your yearly plans.

Apparently not.

Forget it, you thought, tossing the bed cover to the side. You rolled out of your bed and went to freshen up in the bathroom. In your shared master closet with Zayne, your hand skimmed across the array of neatly hung dress shirts before settling on a simple white one. The fabric felt so soft, and you smiled as you stripped down to just your underwear. It was a very risqué black rose lace panty that left very little to the imagination. You slipped on his dress shirt, the length of it reaching down all the way to your thighs. You intentionally left the first four buttons undone, revealing more than enough of your cleavage for him to witness later.

After doing your hair and makeup, you grabbed your phone, smirking as you realized you had one hour before Zayne would be out of his meeting.

Perfect.

The moment Zayne turned his phone back on, he saw a notification for a message from his wife. Unsurprised, he figured you wanted to greet him a happy birthday, but the moment he opened the message he realized how wrong he was.

There was a birthday message—of sorts—but it was not delivered in a way he had thought you would send it.

Thankfully, he was in the privacy of his office.

“This girl…”

You had sent him one message: For the birthday boy. 💋

And afterwards he saw a series of photos taken in provocative positions of you wearing what appeared to be nothing but just a shirt of his. He swallowed slowly as he scrolled down the conversation, seeing photos of you on your knees and leaning forward enough to show off your cleavage. Some had you on your back, your legs tucked close to your chest, while a few had your legs spread apart while you stared at the camera all doe-eyed and sweet.

Zayne gasped, suddenly startled when another attachment was received.

You were straddling his pillow.

His breathing grew a little unsteady, his eyes taking in what appeared to be—

He immediately turned his phone off again and raced out of his office. On the way out, he asked Greyson to cover him for the rest of the day, giving little explanations other than “something came up.” Had he been paying attention, Zayne might have caught Greyson exchanging a knowing smile with Yvonne, forgetting that they both were previous attendants to his past birthday parties.

As Zayne drove home, he knew he should have been wary of how his wife had seemed to be so compliant after the earlier disappointments. In the days leading up to his birthday, he hadn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. On the contrary, you had seemed very cheerful, no longer upset that he was working on his birthday.

He hadn’t thought that you would have a Plan B, or perhaps, he should call it Plan XXX considering the nature of it all. The moment he arrived home, with his phone in hand still pinging every so often with new messages, he found his darling wife lounging on the couch, appearing proud of yourself as you had just finished taking the latest photo.

There was a sudden buzzing noise.

You froze.

Zayne opened the text message he had just received and smirked.

“My love, are these my so-called birthday presents from you?”

Slowly, you turned around, unprepared to see Zayne had actually come home early from work.

“We-welcome home, Zaynie,” you managed to squeak out.

“Hm,” he responded in acknowledgement and in just a few short strides, he made his way over to the couch, sitting down next to you. Before you could say another word, he grabbed your wrist, startling you when he dragged you to lay over his lap and suddenly you felt a coolness, feeling your panties had been pulled down to expose your bare ass.

“Za-Zayne—ah!"

He had loosened his tie, removing it, and with expert quickness, Zayne had your wrists bounded together. You attempted to struggle, but found that he had tied it secured enough that it would not undo while still loose enough that it wouldn’t harm your wrists. Before you could question him, you felt that first sudden strike on your bare bottom, the rough feel of his calloused hand making contact with your ass had you crying out in both surprise and pain.

He instantly rubbed soothing circles where he had struck. There was nothing apologetic about his tone, his words firm and domineering. “One slap for every photo you had sent me today.”

You gasped in surprise.

You had sent him thirteen photos.

His hand struck your ass again. “Now count,” he commanded sternly.

“T-two…”

“Louder.”

Another strike.

“Three!”

He hummed in approval, his large hand smoothed over your reddened cheek. “Good girl,” he praised, and from just those two words alone you felt butterflies beginning to flutter in your belly, a sudden innate desire to please him was awakened within you.

He gave you a moment of reprieve, eyeing you with amusement. When you attempted to squirm again, another slap landed on your sore bottom without warning and you cried into the couch cushion.

“Did I say you could move?” he asked tauntingly. “How many was that?”

“F-four…”

He continued, experimenting with the strength each time and not leaving any hint to the pattern of his actions for you to discern or prepare for, although with the current state he had you in, all rational thoughts had left your head the moment he had tied your wrists together and laid you over his lap.

You winced and gasped, not expecting such strength from the normally gentle doctor. Every so often, your fingers dug into the couch cushion, nails scraping along the fabric whenever the pain was stronger than you could handle.

While a part of you knew you shouldn’t be feeling anything other than fear and shame, your body was having a completely different reaction to his mean treatment. You wondered when he would notice the growing wetness between your legs. His tone and this persona he had taken on were arousing you more than usual.

A part of you instantly wanted to submit to him, to act and behave in a way to earn more of his sweet praises, but there was also another side of you that was so aroused by seeing the once gentle doctor take control, asserting his dominance in a way that left you so breathless and shaken, you wanted to rile and provoke him more, needing to see just how far you could push him before he retaliated.

He didn’t give you long to gather your thoughts to think further. His hand was once more circling your smooth bottom. You glanced up at him, breathing heavier as you took in the way his gentle eyes had darkened with desires.

Another forceful slap.

You gasped again, crying out his name, nearly mewling whenever he quickly switched from his rough treatment to soothing you with gentle words and touches. “Z-Zayne…”

“How many?”

“T-ten…”

“Almost done,” he said. “Just a little longer.”

You panted quietly, almost feeling ashamed that you were disappointed he was going to be done soon. You wondered about other ways to push his buttons, to keep this side of him out for a bit longer. The thought left your mind when you felt the next slap, the sharp sound of his hand meeting your bottom was louder than the previous instances.

The immediate sting was so painful, but oh-so good.

“E-eleven!”

You cried into the couch, feeling that wetness between your legs worsened. You squirmed a little, needing relief from this growing ache.

Another strike.

“Twel-twelve… Zayne… Zayne, please…” You could barely speak, feeling overwhelmed by his punishment and your growing arousal.

It didn’t appear he had caught on yet as to why you were pleading with him, mistaking your cries for pain instead of arousal. The last strike was the gentlest, barely felt after everything you had endured.

“Thirteen…”

He leaned down and kissed your neck, his voice gentle again as he whispered apologies to you. “Was I too rough just now?”

Before you could respond to him, Zayne was chuckling as he chastised you once more, “You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.”

There was no anger or annoyance in his voice, just amusement tinged his tone, but before you could even utter a response, he had you crying out in both shock and pleasure when his fingers slipped into your wet folds, thrusting in and out a few times experimentally to see just how wet you were. You were moaning his name, begging and pleading for more than just this simple stimulation, but in that moment, he had decided to pull out, leaving you empty and throbbing with a need to be filled. You cried out in shock and frustration, looking behind to see his fingers coated in your essence.

You didn’t have time to be upset with him, your mind blanking the instance you watched those beautiful fingers slipped into his mouth, seeing him sucked long and slow those digits clean before he removed them, his tongue running over his lips before he smirked at you, whether in amusement or tauntingly, you weren’t entirely sure, too dumbstruck to fully think straight and too captivated by how handsome he was.

It felt like you had stopped breathing. You could feel your heartbeat growing erratic, getting caught in this moment of excitement as you ached for more of him.

He had no business looking so sexy doing that, and that simple act alone shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, but it did. Suddenly, you startled when you registered that he was pulling your panties back up, and now you were whining at him, begging for him to relieve you of this growing ache inside of you.

“N-no, Zaynie, please…”

He peered down at you with that same provoking smirk, one eyebrow raised in question, though it was clear he was very amused by the state of frustration you were in. “Please? Please what?” he asked mischievously, adding sternly, “Use your words, my love, or I won’t know what you want.”

You wanted to snap back at his taunt. Perhaps during any other instances, you would have countered his teasing with your own, but by this point, you were in no state to be so sassy with him. The wetness between your legs had worsened so much, the need to be filled by him was all you could think about, knowing just how full and satisfied you would feel with his beautiful cock buried deep inside you.

Zayne continued to gaze at you with such a haughty smile, as if he was pleased to see how frustrated you were because of him. Perhaps, he might have even considered this a fitting punishment for how you behaved earlier today with sending him those risqué photos while he was working.

Practically sulking, you complied with him. You twisted your body on the couch to peer up at him, your bounded wrists pressed close to your chest, and you said softly with tears brimming in your eyes, “Please… fuck me.”

He breathed in quickly, unprepared for your brazen obedience.

As if a dam had broken and all of your feelings and inner desires were rushing out in torrents, you continued your shameless pleas, ready now to beg him to satisfy you in ways only he could. “Please, Zaynie… I need your… your cock… inside… inside me.”

He laughed softly, amazed by your bold plea. He settled down on the couch, laying on his side behind you, and pulled you flushed to him. Your back pressed to his toned chest, your sudden squirming stilled the moment Zayne wrapped his arm around your middle to trap you to him.

His hand reached around to tug his tie free from around your wrists, releasing you from your silk shackle. His fingers soothingly glided across your wrists, appearing to appraise you for any lingering marks. They were faint, but nothing too harmful. He was always mindful that way, wanting to discipline your petulant behavior, but never wishing to harm you. He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Such lewd words,” he murmured, his tone more amused than disappointed. “Now when did my lovely wife learn to say such obscene things?”

You grinded back against him, feeling his bulge against your ass and hearing his instant hiss before his hand grabbed your hip, holding you in place again. Suddenly, you heard the sound of his pants zippers, and you were whining now, feeling his fingers dragging your panties to the side. The needy whines turned into long, slow moans the moment he eased into you and you felt that massive intrusion stretching you just deliciously as you clenched around him.

“F-fuck,” he gasped, those rare curses he would say somehow the most erotic thing you had ever heard. He gripped your leg, lifting enough so he could have an easier access before he started rocking into you with a steady pace. With every shallow thrust, his pants and your moans intermingled in tandem to the lewd sounds. He peered down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face buried in the couch cushion as you gasped and moaned to the feeling of him penetrating you so perfectly. His breathing grew unsteady as he husked softly, sounding almost amazed by the fact, “So fucking wet… it’s like you’re swallowing me.”

Every stroke you felt was heavenly, this mounting pleasure practically sinful. You gasped into the cushions, your nails dragging along the fabric of the couch again, feeling like he was drowning you in this intense pleasure. Zayne’s arm slipped under your head to rest, and instantly you grabbed his hand, his thumb slipping into your eager mouth. Immediately, he groaned, the feeling of your warm mouth around his thumb and the sight of you so shameless and pretty like this made him want to fuck you harder, reduce you to an even more helpless mess than you already were. He dragged his shirt on you to the side, his lips finding your shoulder to kiss, branding you with his marks.

Everything he did, his entire being, was overwhelming your senses, your mind lost to this intense haze of pleasure. You continued to suckle his thumb, your hands grasping his firmly, not wanting to part from him, feeling his heat so close to yours. Distantly, you heard him groaned, “Say my name.”

There was a warm tightening in your belly, and you answered him with a sweet gasp, “Za-Zayne…”

He roughly pulled his hand away, and you protested and whined from the abrupt loss.

“Louder,” he hissed, driving into you harder.

“Z-Zayne!”

The same hand he had pulled away reached lower, grasping your breast, fondling and squeezing tightly as his hips continued to move steadily faster. Sweats dripped along the sides of his face, his hair sticking to his skin, and his expression flushed with heavy arousal at the sight of how beautifully you were taking him, your own cheeks red and hot, eyes squeezed tightly shut as you felt him thrusting deeper inside you.

“My pretty wife,” he murmured, his lips pressing into the crook of your neck as he continued to praise you, “My love, let me hear more of your sweet voice.”

“Za-Zayne… ah… ah… you feel so, so good…”

He hummed in approval, his hand kneading your breast harder, his thumb swirling over your sensitive nipple before pinching them, making you squealed in surprise. He showed no sign of stopping any of his ministrations, wanting to lure out more of your sweet moans and whines, your heavenly voice making him dizzy with desires.

His arm suddenly wrapped tightly around your chest, pulling you back firmly against his own as his movements quickened to a brutal pacing. Your hands reached up to grasp at his arm, nails digging into his skin as you cried harder, your squeals growing in pitch as a familiar pleasure crested, reaching closer and closer to its peak.

“Za-Zayne! …Gonna… gonna cum… oh, god… I’m gonna cum!”

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing your neck soundly as he groaned softly, “I’m close, too…”

You panted, your breathing even more unsteady after hearing his words. The overstimulation was too much, your mind barely able to focus on anything other than the feeling of him bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your walls tightened around him and he groaned again, his face burying into your neck.

“In-inside me! Please, Zayne, please…!”

“Bu—”

“I want you to knock me up, Zayne!”

His breath hitched. His hand reached lower, resting over your flat belly. He almost wanted to chuckle, both amused and delighted by your exclamation. You both had been fucking so recklessly lately, all precautions abandoned, submitting to your primitive desires completely, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were already pregnant at this moment, already carrying his baby in your body.

His hand circled your belly, his mind drifting away to a secret fantasy of his, already imagining a small swell forming, his baby resting in your womb, growing day by day bigger. You would need new clothes, he realized with a small smile. He would delight in choosing the prettiest dresses that would be comfortable for you, but still snug enough that the fabric stretched around your round belly, letting you show off the cute swell, the very evidence that he was the one who had impregnated you.

People would congratulate the doctor and his wife for their growing family, not knowing that he had been actively breeding you every chance he could, but most importantly, when he knew for certain that you were ovulating, your body just begging for him to impregnate you with his child.

If people even knew the number of times he had stayed buried inside of you, letting you milk him completely dry and making sure not a single drop of his cum would go to waste, they would surely be scandalized that such a respectful, revered, and well-mannered young man could harbor such a perverse side that he kept well hidden behind closed doors. If they only knew the extent of his fantasies, of his desires and need to make sure all of his virile seed stayed inside of you, needing just one to take. He knew you were fertile, your womb just begging to carry his child. He was going to make this fantasy a reality.

You were already the prettiest little wife for him, so sweet and charming, he was completely smitten by you entirely, but Zayne knew he would be even more enamored when you carry his baby. The proof of his love for you, a baby who would be the perfect blend of you both.

“My baby…” he husked, giving your flat belly another rub, “You want my baby in your belly?”

“Ye-yes… please…”

He huffed, almost laughing breathlessly. He was going delirious. Your willingness and pleas were only fueling his desires. Suddenly, he pulled out completely and you cried in frustration at the sudden loss of him, but just as quickly he had flipped you onto your back and you stared up in wide-eyed confusion as he parted your legs before driving into you deeply.

You nearly choked on your cries, unprepared for his sudden brute force. Your nails dug into the fabric of the cushion again as he spread you more, pushing in deeper and harder, his every movement had your breasts bouncing as you gasped out his name in desperation over and over again.

“C-cumming… Zayne, I’m cumming…”

“Yes, yes, cum. Cum for me, darling,” he murmured, his own pants nearly matching yours. He was smirking as he drank in the sight of you, completely cock-drunk by him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth opened in silent euphoria. His words sounded more frenzied. “You might already be pregnant.”

You whimpered, and your nails dug even deeper into the cushion.

“Might already be carrying my baby,” he continued, “You like this thought, don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, Zayne!”

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed, “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep filling you up until we’re sure…”

His hand found yours, gripping it tightly as he pressed it into the cushion. He rocked into you deeply, his sweat-slicked forehead pressing against yours briefly before his lips found your own. As he ravaged your lips, leaving no room for you to breathe, he continued to taunt you with his tantalizing words in between every searing kiss: “Want my baby so badly, you’ve been begging for it every time, haven’t you?”

You nodded helplessly, eyes brimming with tears as you felt your climax was approaching faster now. He was practically bruising your lips with his relentless kisses. You could barely think straight, having completely succumbed to him, letting his soft but firm voice hypnotize you, lead you to the edge.

“Have you thought about the changes that will happen?”

You broke free from his kiss and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He pressed your legs further back and you squealed as he plumbed deeply into you, hitting that same sweet spot over and over again as he continued to pant such deliciously sinful words.

“You’re going to be even more beautiful… carrying my baby… have you… have you wearing only clothes that would show off your adorable round belly—” He was growing feverish, his own words having more of an effect on him than he realized. He was already imagining the changes. “Everyone will know it’s my baby in you.”

He chuckled suddenly, as if amused by a joke only he knew. “I don’t think I will be able to keep my hands off of you,” he confessed, “I’m going to want to touch you more, feel you more, need to be buried in your sweet pussy and fuck you again and again and again while you’re pregnant.”

“Ah… Za—”

You felt Zayne’s hands grabbed at your buttocks, lifting you up as your legs locked around his waist. You moaned into his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, holding onto him as he took you past the point of no return, his thrusts rushing more frantically as you both neared your releases.

“You’ll let me, won’t you?” he smirked, already knowing the answer himself, panting even harder as he felt your approaching climax, “Let me have you, let me feel you when you’re so round and heavy with our child. Let me fuck you, claim you over and over again—”

“Oh, fuck, yes!”

Zayne’s eyes widened suddenly at your euphoric cry, your hold on him tightening, submitting to the intense climax that had steadily been building since his earlier punishment. Your nails sank into his back, dragging across his skin and leaving deep marks on him. He gasped, hissing in pleasure, as he thrusted more erratically, yielding to his own need for his release. With a few more hurried strokes, Zayne groaned deeply as he emptied into you, feeling your pussy squeezed his cock and milking him dry.

“Ah… Za-Zayne… ah, so—ohhh!”

You rested against him, whimpering into his shoulder, feeling the heavy spurts before he started to soften inside of you, but he didn’t appear to be ready to leave your warmth just yet. Your mind still clouded by the intense pleasure just now, you didn’t realize he pulled you away from his neck, only aware of him when his fingers rested under your chin and gently tilting up so his lips could claim yours, so light and fleeting, just a gentle brush before he asked softly with his warm hazel eyes watching you with genuine concern, “Are you sore? Was I too rough with you just now?”

You smiled at him with lazy bliss and shook your head.

“Won’t speak to me?” he teased, giving you a quick peck on the tip of your nose, his smile widening at the sound of your gentle giggles.

“Happy birthday, Zaynie,” you said instead, making him chuckled in amusement.

“Thank you,” he laughed. “It turned out more… memorable than I originally thought it would be.”

You blinked at him confused and said not-so-innocently, “You’re speaking as if this is all you are getting for your birthday.”

He eyed you with suspicion. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing,” you said with a cheeky smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and said with a pout, “Zaynie, I’m tired, can you carry me to the kitchen please?”

He chuckled. “Are you asking me to serve you on my own birthday, Miss?”

“Please?”

He pulled out of you with a groan, your damped panties readjusted. Sighing, Zayne kissed your cheek before his arms slipped under you. “Very well,” he said, “Hold on tight.”

As you held onto him, you gasped into his shoulder again, feeling some of his seed dripping into your soaked panties.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused by your behavior change.

“N-nothing,” you fibbed, keeping you face buried against him. You hummed happily, and reminded him, “Kitchen please.”

You giggled when he stood up and shifted, his arms were holding you securely to him as your legs wrapped around his waist tightly before he headed to the kitchen. With your guidance, he walked to the fridge, watching in confusion when you reached for the handle and opened the door. On one of the door shelves, you grabbed a can of whipped cream, making Zayne lift his eyebrow, even more baffled by your actions.

“Whipped cream?” he questioned.

“I couldn’t get you a birthday cake since you had said you would be working all day today,” you explained.

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He readjusted his hold on you, shifting the weight more comfortably against him. He gazed at you with so much warmth in his eyes as he spoke lightheartedly, “Ah, so it’s my fault I only get whipped cream instead of a birthday cake then?”

You made a face at him, puffing your cheeks up in annoyance. “What do you mean ‘only whipped cream?’”

“Hm?” He was about to question you, but you stopped him.

“Bedroom first,” you commanded.

“Ordering me around on my birthday?” he questioned with mock offense, but his feet were already moving to the next location. He chuckled when you yelped in surprise when his large hand rubbed over your bottom that was still a little sore from his earlier ‘punishment’. He continued in the same light-hearted tone, “I see my earlier… lesson didn’t have the expected effect on you. I should have known better.”

“I’m sorry, Zaynie,” you said unapologetically, “I’m a bit of a slow learner. Could you discipline me again—I mean teach me agai—ah!”

He had entered the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and made his way to the large king-sized bed at the center of the room. Without any warning, he had tossed you onto the bed midsentence. Once you were able to recover from the shock, you were about to demand an explanation for his behavior, but you paused, startled when he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Zayne?”

“Hm?” He smiled down at you as he loosened the cuffs of his sleeves, revealing a glimpse of the faint scars on his arms. He tilted his head to the side, pretending like he was disappointed in you. Your gaze followed his fingers, watching him unbutton his shirt with intentional slowness. Once the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he walked to the bed, crawling on top until he was hovering above you while you leaned back, caught beneath him like a captured prey. You eyed him with surprise, wondering what was going through his head in this moment.

You glanced appreciatively downward, catching sight of Zayne’s toned abdomen beneath his unbuttoned shirt, but he didn’t let you look for long, his hand grasping your chin and lifting it up, directing your gaze back to him.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded.

“Technically, I was—”

“Behave,” he interrupted firmly and you clammed up under his stern look. He smirked in amusement at your immediate obedience before he lowered his glance. Wordlessly, his fingers brushed over the waistband of your panties.

“Za-Zayne?”

He huffed in amusement. “They’re completely soaked,” he murmured. He pulled them down, taking them off of you. He breathed in sharply before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m going to have to buy you some new lingerie it seems.”

You readjusted his shirt on you, covering your sudden exposed body from his view with lightly pinked cheeks. Noticing your not-so subtle actions, he pulled your hands away with a knowing smirk, and guided the shirt off, tossing it to the side, letting you sit completely nude to him.

“Suddenly shy now?” he teased, “What happened to that boldness you displayed earlier, my love?”

“I-I’m cold,” you fibbed with faux annoyance.

He nodded in understanding, humoring your defiance. “Then I should warm you up, shouldn’t I?”

You breathed in quickly, watching as one by one, all article of his clothing was removed until he was also completely nude in your presence. Even though as his wife, you had seen him completely naked numerous times before, it never stopped you from appreciating his beautiful physique, much the same way he also always adored seeing you completely exposed to him—only for him.

“We should both warm each other up,” he rephrased with a mischievous smirk. Zayne leaned forward and you lost your balance, your back hitting the mattress as he loomed above you, keeping you trapped beneath him. Perhaps it was because of the sudden heightened sexually-charged atmosphere, but you could feel your heart was beating faster than normal again, practically pounding within your chest.

You were excited. Excited by the feeling of anticipation for what could happen next tonight. Excited by the way Zayne was behaving, roguishly domineering as he took control of the situation. And excited by the prospect that whatever had happened and was going to happen could also lead to you and him expecting—

“Come here,” he whispered, his body pressing down closer to yours.

Caught under his beautiful hazel gaze, you didn’t notice Zayne had grabbed the can of whipped cream that had rolled to the side on the bed. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, distracting you as he shook the can a few times. When he pulled away, you whined softly from the loss of his sweet lips, making him chuckled.

“This can of whipped cream,” he murmured, though you barely registered his words, still intoxicated by his kisses. “What were your intentions with bringing this into our bedroom?”

“Hm?” You peered up at him doe-eyed, and he laughed again at your coyness. Suddenly, you yelped in surprise, brought back to the present when Zayne squirted a small dollop of the cold whipped cream above your chest. “Za-Zayne!”

“You said you didn’t get me a birthday cake, but you also insisted on bringing this can of whipped cream into our bedroom,” he continued in his soft tone thoughtfully. “One might surmise you were planning something… deviant with this, am I correct?”

You huffed, sighing, “You’re such a smart boy, Zaynie.”

He smiled in amusement at your vexed expression. “Then, as the… birthday boy, am I allowed to decorate my… treat?”

You felt a fluttering in your belly, an excited anticipation from hearing the heavy implication in his words. You nodded slowly, eyes following him as he shook the can again. You inhaled quickly, holding your breath when he squirted enough whipped cream to cover both your nipples before he set the can aside on the bed.

“Hm, I won’t be able to make a wish, will I?” he pretended to sound disappointed before he made eye contact with you. “Unless Miss Fairy here can also grant me my birthday wish?”

“What is your wish then, birthday boy?” You smiled at his playfulness.

“Will it come true if I say it aloud?” he wondered, leaning lower, letting the warmth of his breath brushed against your breast, a welcoming contrast to the cold cream that covered you.

Your breathing grew shaky, watching him with half-hooded eyes. “Te-tell me and we’ll find out together…”

“My love,” he whispered, his warm breath fanned against you once more, “I think you already know what I truly want…”

Zayne didn’t leave you any time to respond, his tongue already beginning to lick away the whipped cream from one breast. You squirmed from the stimulation, feeling his tongue brushed over your sensitive nipple.

His hands found your hips, gripping you tightly to keep you grounded beneath him. “Stay still,” he ordered, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

You felt that ever familiar coil tightening in your belly, conditioned to always listen to him when he used that particular stern tone with you. You whined again, feeling his tongue licked around your nipple thoroughly before he showed the same meticulous attention to your other breast.

Your cheeks felt warm again, face flushed with renewed arousal as you peered down at him.

“Za-Zayne, the whipped cream is already all gone,” you said feebly before your hand suddenly covered your mouth, suppressing your startled cry when he sucked on your nipple hard before parting and staring up at you with a pleased smirk.

“It’s my birthday,” he reminded you, “Am I not allowed to indulge?”

“Y-You—”

He stopped you before you could protest. “Whose idea was all of this?”

He grabbed your soaked panties, fingering the stained fabric with a look of amusement. “Those photos you’ve sent earlier today.”

“We-well, they were just…”

“Just…?”

“Just… a preview,” you attempted to explain, “I didn’t think you would come hom—”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed dismissively, grabbing the can of whipped cream again, “And this?”

“I didn’t have time to get you a cake, so I thought we could…”

One of Zayne’s eyebrows lifted up. He pretended to be puzzled, but you knew he saw through your flimsy act long ago. He interrupted you again, his tone sounding over-exaggeratedly thoughtful, “Ah, you thought we could have just the whipped cream in lieu of a birthday cake, is that correct, my love?” 

There was a stiff, noticeable silence after his question. You stared at him, lips twitching in annoyance briefly before you answered insolently, “Yes, just the whipped cream. You had said you would be working all da—”

“Open your mouth,” he interrupted once more, his tone commanding.

Confused, you obeyed him, opening your mouth a little.

“Wider,” he demanded.

Startled, you complied, unsure of what was going on in his head. You almost gasped when he squirted a decent-sized dollop of whipped cream into your mouth.

“Close,” he said with an amused smile.

You complied, tasting the lightly sweetened cream before it melted away on your tongue. Unconsciously, you licked your lips clean, almost wanting another taste of that cold sweet treat.

“This brand is delicious,” he said lightly, amused by the different expressions you had displayed in less than a minute because of this current situation. “We should buy another can tomorrow.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Why tomorrow—"

“Now lay back down,” he ordered, pointedly ignoring your question.

You did as you were told, gazing up at him with utter confusion, having never seen him act so terse and dismissive with you like this before. It was… intriguing, and perhaps admittedly, even… arousing.

Your eyes followed Zayne’s movements, watching curiously as he shook the can several times, his own eyes never leaving yours. You wondered where he was planning on squirting the cream next, but as it turned out, you didn’t have to wait too long for an answer, because in the next instance, your body jolted on instinct when it felt that cold whipped cream squirted between your legs.

Instinctively, you wanted to close your legs, but Zayne kept them nudged apart. “Stay still,” he ordered again. He tossed the empty can of whipped cream off the bed before settling between your legs. He gripped your thighs, holding them apart as he leaned forward, his tongue running over the small mound of white cream in front of him.

Reflexively, your hand clamped over your mouth again, cry muffled when his tongue brushed against your sensitive lips.

“Don’t hide your voice,” he ordered, peering up long enough to see your flushed, aroused face, your trembling hand barely covering your face as you breathed shakily. He leaned forward, his tongue diving forward again, mouth pressed closer, tasting you as his hands gripped your trembling thighs tighter.

“Za-Zayne, it’s too much—”

He hummed back in response, showing no sign of slowing. Shakily, one of your hands pressed deeply into the mattress in an attempt to steady your balance while the other one found their way into Zayne’s hair, fingers wrapping around thick dark strands, tugging hard whenever he sucked deeply. Unwittingly, you thrusted your hips forward against his mouth.

“Zayne!"

He continued to only hum his replies, the only other noise besides the lewd sounds of him eating you out, hungrily tasting your slick essence. You threw your head back moaning, your entire body wracked with pleasure. “Ah… ah…”

“I will never get enough of you,” he mumbled. “I could spend my whole life devouring you and my appetite would never be fully satisfied—”

You could hear him groaning, his own voice sounding shakier than before. You peered down through half-opened eyes, your mouth opening wider in shock at seeing his right hand wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself urgently while he indulged in you.

Oh, god… Zayne…!

You could see the precum on the tip of his cock, the sight had you trembling with need. You struggled to find your voice before you were able to beg him hurriedly, “F-fuck me, fuck me, Zayne.”

He paused and looked at you, appearing to also be catching his breath now. Seeing the desperateness in your eyes, he smiled and leaned toward you, taking your lips for himself. You moaned in between his kisses, the weight of his body pressed you down into the mattress, keeping you trapped beneath him.

“Want my cock inside you?” He teased, his lips finding your neck.

Your hands steadied themselves on his strong, broad shoulders as he planted deep kisses along your neck, leaving his mark on you. You could feel yourself completely dripping, aching to have his cock inside you once more.

“Y-yes,” you said breathily.

“You were so close to coming just now,” he murmured almost thoughtfully, “Why did you stop me from making you cum?”

You moaned at how sweet his voice sounded. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nudging your hips up closer to him, hearing his instant hiss of pleasure as you brushed against his erection. “In-inside me,” you gasped, “I want your cock inside me again. Want you to cum inside me again.”

“Is-is that so?” he asked breathlessly. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

You whined at him, feeling yourself clenching around nothing, needing him so much in this moment. The building desperation in you had robbed you of any inhibitions, your words were rushing out shamelessly as you voiced your desires to him: “Yes! Want your cock inside me, want to cum on your cock, want you to cum inside me—with me, please, Zaynie, please, want you to fuck your baby into me, please, Zayne!”

Zayne’s breathing grew erratic, feeling like he was getting dizzy by how sweetly obscene your tantalizing words and pleas were.

He wanted this as well, he realized. He wanted everything you were begging him for. Wanted so much and more.

“What a good girl you are,” he breathed, almost laughing in astonishment at what his ears were hearing. His fingers dove inside you again, delighting in the way you instantly moaned at the feeling before he pulled out, his fingers dripping again with your wetness. With that same hand, he let it wrapped around his cock again, stroking it leisurely as he covered himself with your essence before he guided himself to your waiting, willing entrance.

You squealed, feeling the tip pressing in and then more and more of him started to ease forward, dragging out a long, low moan from you as he filled you so deliciously full.

“Still this needy,” he groaned, “Still wanting to be stuffed full…”

You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pulled out slowly and thrusted back in. He continued this languid pacing, letting you stretch around him again before he started to build a faster rhythm.

“You didn’t want to cum by yourself earlier, did you, my love?”

“N-no…” you whimpered at him, meeting his own aroused gaze. “Want to cum with you, want us to cum together.”

He seized your lips, kissing you deeply before he groaned softly, his breath feeling so hot against your mouth. “So sweet…”

You leaned forward and kissed him back, wanting to taste him again. With your arms wrapped around him, holding tight, needing to feel the weight of him on you, you felt Zayne holding your legs apart, keeping you spread for him as he drove deeper and harder into you.

“Want me to cum in you again?” he asked, sounding like he was close.

You could feel your own climax was also approaching again. “Inside me,” you urged him with a gasp, “Want you to fuck your baby into me, please Zayne!”

He shuddered at your words, his pacing growing more brutal by the seconds. “I want this, too,” he panted. “Want to see your belly growing round with my baby.”

You smiled at him deliriously. “M-more… tell me more,” you pleaded, his words having a euphoric effect on you as you felt that familiar feeling of your approaching climax.

He smiled back, nearly laughing at your eagerness. “You like that, darling? Want to feel your body changing for me?”

“Oh, yes… yes!”

“Good girl,” he groaned when he felt you pulsing around him. “You are going to be even more beautiful when you are pregnant.”

“Ye-yeah?”

“Of course,” he breathed, “Seeing you carry my baby will be the most beautiful sight I will have ever seen.”

“Oh… oh, Zayne, h-hurry, almost—”

He was no longer thinking straight. Hearing the way your voice pleaded with him, feeling your climax was fast approaching and knowing he was just as close, he hurried with his words, his movements rushing, pounding into you harder and deeper.

“I need to see you in tight clothing,” he said, gasping, “Want to see how big and round your belly can get.”

You moaned in agreement. “Yes… yes, I want you to see what you did to me—”

Fuck. Zayne nearly gasped again, his hips stuttering as it seemed you were the one edging him now. His hands grabbed your hips, tightening his hold as he continued to pound into you at that same rushed pacing. “What I did to you?” he almost laughed in disbelief at how you could still manage to be this audacious with him even when you were also about to come undone because of him. He laughed again, this time in agreement. “Yes, you’re right. What I’m going to do to you.”

You whined as you felt the intensity of his movements. “Za-Zayne!”

“I’m going to give you everything you want. Everything that I want,” he said, letting his inhibitions go as he succumbed to his desires and to you, “I’m going to keep breeding you like this, like how I’ve been doing for weeks now. You like being bred like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Zayne, yes!”

“Want me to fill your womb, want me to fuck my baby into you, is that it?”

You nodded at him.

“Say it.”

You cried, your walls pulsing around him had him groaning deeply. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Zayne! I want a baby. I want to have your baby! Please, please, cum inside me, breed me, don’t stop until you’ve knocked me up. I need you. I need you, Zaynie. Zayne—”

You screamed, his rushed movements suddenly stopping as he groaned deeply and came inside you right as your orgasm coursed through your body, leaving you crying in pure pleasure. He was gasping as he felt you milking him completely, your belly bulging enough to give the illusion that you had a small bump. He swallowed dry, the sight had him so lightheaded, he thought he was going to pass out.

He didn’t dare close his eyes, wanting the lascivious image of you spread out like this, taking all of his seed to be ingrained into his memory. It was such a beautiful sight, he thought, seeing how your body always reacting so euphorically to him.

In time, you felt the last aftershocks of your shared orgasms fading, felt him softening inside you, but Zayne continued to remain in your warmth, not wanting to part just yet. He cupped your cheek and you looked up, meeting his gentle smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing along your cheek in comfort.

You smiled back and nodded. As he pulled out, you gasped quietly, already missing the feeling of him buried inside you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Zayne said softly, already prepared to leave the bed, but he stopped when you reached for his wrist. He peered down with a soft smile, his eyebrow quirking up in puzzlement.

“Later,” you told him, tugging him back to the bed with you. “I want to cuddle with you right now.”

“It’s my birthday, but why do I feel like I’ve been the one to indulge in your whims?” he teased, though he allowed you to drag him into bed with you again. He laid down, smirking in amusement when you squirmed your way back into his arms, nestling comfortably in his warm, loving embrace.

You peered up at him, grinning as you matched his playfulness. “You better get used to it.”

He raised a brow in question, waiting for you to elaborate.

“When I’m pregnant,” you clarified with a wider grin, “You will cater to my whims, won’t you, Zaynie?”

He sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “You act like I don’t do that already on a day-to-day basis.”

Before you could make a retort, Zayne pressed a kiss to your temple, smiling kindly as he spoke, “I will be at your beck and call, Miss.”

You gasped and squirmed when he walked two fingers across your abdomen. Your cheeks turned rosy as you struggled to maintain composure. “Z-Zaynie…”

“Hm?”

“I… might not be pregnant yet…”

“We don’t know that you’re not either,” he countered with a smirk, delighting in your sudden coyness. He continued, “Let me pretend tonight. It’s still my birthday, is it not?”

You peeked at the clock on the nightstand. “Four more hours until midnight. So…”

You smiled with rosy cheeks when he leaned down and nuzzled his face against your flat stomach. Instinctively, you threaded your fingers through his hair. As you indulged in his whim, a sudden thought snuck its way into your mind, and you couldn’t help but pondered aloud, “What if…”

“What if what?” Zayne peered up at you, noticing your thoughtful tone and the way you seemed to trail off with your words.

“What if… we had conceived today?”

He looked at you in wonder.

“What if…” you continued, steadily growing bolder with your words, seeing the gleam of interest in Zayne’s eyes. “…we had conceived our baby… on your birthday?”

He laughed, seemingly tickled by the very idea. He sat up and leaned over to kiss you briefly. It was his turn to brush your hair aside as he gazed down at you fondly. “Wouldn’t that be a story in and of itself?”

“Surely, you are not planning on telling—”

“Our little secret, if that was the case,” he interrupted.

“Our dirty little secret?” you amended with a smile.

He sighed helplessly. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“I would,” you declared proudly.

“Of course, you would,” he said, deadpanned. Suddenly, Zayne blinked in surprise when you grabbed his wrist, laying his palm face up. He jerked from the tickling sensation when you glided the pad of your index finger across his palm. He furrowed his brows in confusion, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Sending you a message,” you said, beaming proudly. You giggled at his perplexed expression. “Here, I’ll start over.”

You dragged your finger down his palm, smiling when he reacted again to the tickling sensation. You held his hand tighter and made two short parallel strokes.

“‘I,’” Zayne said.

“Good job,” you praised brightly.

You continued with the next word, occasionally peeking up to catch Zayne’s reaction, seeing a knowing smile forming on his handsome face as he answered confidently:

“‘Love.’”

“Uh huh,” you said with a smile. You made a few more strokes for the last word.

“‘You,’” he finished happily, repeating, “‘I love you.’”

“You are such a smart boy, Zaynie,” you praised again with a wider grin.

“I love you,” he said once more, leaning toward you with one hand cradling your cheek. He sighed again, his smile unwavering and infectious. “I love you.”

He was overwhelming you, drowning you with his sweet love confession, repeating over and over again that one sentence until it seemed like his heartfelt words and devotion were seared into your very soul.

You returned his affections, kissing him back and savoring this sweet intimate moment with him, a treasured memory for you to selfishly lock away in a keepsake box just for yourself. Likewise, you knew this was also a night he would never forget, another moment with you for him to add to his unending collection of cherished memories.

Sweet nothings were exchanged, along with laughter and giggles, and passing kisses in between. Time seemed to move so much faster when you were with him, you realized with despondency, wishing you could slow this moment down, to linger in this afterglow, in this quiet world of you and him.

You kissed him slowly, kissed him sweetly, letting yourself fall deeper under his spell, whisked away by a love so tender and true. You let the passion between you both guided you through the night, let your body welcomed him back in, sinking down on his length, feeling every glorious inch filled you again as he peered up at you with vibrant green eyes.

To have and to hold, you answered his moans with soft sighs, moving with him with practiced ease, feeling every stroke as he guided you up and down, his hold on your hips tightening more and more as you both neared your release.

“Z-Zayne—!”

His lips found yours, and you embraced him once more, relishing in feeling his heat so close to your own. As the night carried on, before the stroke of midnight announced the arrival of a brand-new day, you whispered back, your lips to his and your heart forever his:

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Tag list: @lavlynyan @rainbowsnowflake @jasmines-greentea @notisekais @solifloris @natimiles @callilypso @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @littleapplle @alfredosaws @nezuswritingdesk @valkyyriia @yourlocalcatscammer @qyuin @ladsarchivee 【 request to be added 】

[eraenaa]

Impatient and Desperate

Aemond Targaryen x Clingy Lannister Reader

Synopsis: How you and your husband fare at court when both of you were constantly impatient and desperate for one another.

Warnings: Clingy/Spoiled Reader, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Oral Sex (f receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Slight Degradation, Aemond being a simp for his wife, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 6,207

A/N: (1) Based on a request sent by @serenity-ren-bliss, they wanted a reader who "loves being doted on." (2) I may or may not have been faded while I wrote this, so...

Prince Aemond was an overly impatient man. One could never know what would set him off and be the reason for his rage. His impatience knows no bounds. His sudden bouts of rage could come from him no longer being able to tolerate the cruel teases of his older brother, or it could be as simple as a courtier walking too slowly in front of him. Either way, whatever the circumstances may be, you would never want to be in the same room with the prince when his patience wears thin. However, as impatient as he was with everyone around him, that could not be said when you were in his presence. You, his loving wife, were the only person that could never wear out the One-Eyed Prince’s patience, no matter how hard you tried. And believe me, you’ve tried. 

As a daughter of House Lannister, you were doted upon and spoiled by your lord father all your life. Whatever you wanted, it was given to you with haste. May it be new gowns, jewelry, or attention— all were handed to you with a smile. And you would take it gratefully, but a new request would already be leaving your lips. 

That you were well loved was unquestionable. But whatever love and attention given to you never seemed to be enough. Growing up, you always needed constant affection and reassurance that those you loved loved you as well. You were clingy. Plain and simple. As a girl, you would always accompany your lord father wherever he went. Whether it was during meetings with lords, hunting in the woods, or even important business dealings in the capitol, you were always by his side. And your father had naught but a choice to take you for he could not bear his only daughter to be sad and doubtful of his affection. 

You were seven when your father first brought you to Kingslanding. He was there on business and was to meet with his brother, Ser Tyland Lannister. You were not set to join your father. He had already been bribing you with new dresses, toys, and even a pet cat so you would be more open to the idea. However, with just a few pearl tears and a sniffle when your father tried to explain that you were not to come with him, the lord quickly conceded as he could not bear you in such a state. 

Your first day in the Red Keep was also the first time you met Prince Aemond. He was a few years older than you, and when you first laid your eyes on him, what was most notable besides his silver hair and lack of another eye was the deep scowl on his face. You had no intention of approaching him, but your newly given pet cat that was by your side suddenly ran towards the scowling prince. 

To say he was mean during your first encounter would be an understatement. He was the cruelest person you have ever met. This doesn’t really say much since you’ve never really encountered cruelty as all your life you were doted upon, but still, he was harsh and callous. He made you cry that day. You forget what exactly brought you to tears, but all you remember is picking your pet up in your arms and running back to your father to tell him about the mean prince you met in the gardens. 

That was the first time Aemond had made anyone cry and the first time he genuinely felt sympathetic. Throughout your stay, you had avoided the prince, but Aemond had sought you out to undo your first encounter. And through that was how your relationship with Prince Aemond began and bloomed. You two would exchange letters when you were in Casterly Rock, and he would eagerly wait for business to bring your father back to the capitol, knowing that you would, of course, be accompanying him. 

Throughout the years, what both of you believed to be just a friendship bloomed into more. It was during your fourteenth name day when you realized that perhaps there was more than friendship between you two, as he had snuck out of the Red Keep, disregarding his duty, and rode on dragon-back to Lannisport just to reach the feast to celebrate your birth. Needless to say, you were besotted with him and his gesture, not to mention the sapphire pendant he gifted, which made you completely enthralled and saw him in a new, love-struck gaze. 

Aemond had never thought he could find patience as great as the patience he bestowed upon you. In truth, if he met another person alike yourself— spoiled, clingy, and in want of constant affection and attention, he would have struck that person down. But with you… he could not even bear to complain in his head because no one would be in that want of his attention and affection. It was only you, and you were the only one for him. 

He patiently waited and courted you for three years before he finally gained your father’s approval. He was reluctant to give your hand away to anyone less deserving. You, his daughter, had many extingencies, and he feared that the men that vied for your hand could never measure up in the way you brought up, doted upon, and spoiled out of your wits. He could not stomach the thought that your husband would not be able to do the same. 

But Prince Aemond proved himself tenfold. He would often send you gifts that were certainly not cheap and would have cost the crown a pretty penny, and the prince would venture to Casterly Rock at a moment’s notice just because you called for him. You often did that, always wanting Prince Aemond to be in your presence, and he never grew tired of journeying endlessly just to see you and make you happy. Your father was, of course, impressed, and in time, as he realized this treatment of the prince was not just for show or to gain further your favor, he approved of the marriage. 

Your two were married in the Red Keep with haste— just as soon as the grand wedding you had always dreamed of was delivered. It was two moons of preparations, and as always, Aemond was growing impatient. “Must it truly be that grand?” He asked as he sat with you in the gardens, your hand in between both of his and your pet cat seated on your lap. “Yes. Father had already paid for all of the decorations and the feast! It’ll be a shame to waste it,” You say, your other hand twiddling with the flower your betrothed picked for you just moments before. 

“But—“ Aemond paused and pursed his lips as the incessant noise of children playing and running along the gardens were proving to be a great nuisance to him. You watched as your betrothed’s soft gaze that was only reserved for you turned harsh as he turned to the group of children and did not hesitate to chastise them. You watched in concern as they rushed out of the gardens, running away from the prince, and you would wager that a tear or two were shed from the innocent, wide eyes of the children. 

“Aemond,” You called, feeling a tad guilty as the childish, glee-filled giggles ceased. “They were a nuisance; I can barely hear you, my heart.” He muttered and took a strand of your hair in between his fingers to twirl and distract him. “But they are children— their noise is understandable… what are you to do if it were our children?” You question and glance behind you as you hear footsteps. Some courtiers were venturing towards the gardens to have a breath of fresh air, but as they saw the prince and his steely gaze, they quickly turned around and let the two of you be. 

“Believe me, my heart, our children would not be as insufferable as them.” Aemond scoffed, and you shook your head. “My love, you’re scaring them.” You sighed, but a smirk came to the prince’s lips. “Good.” He muttered and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your lips, taking advantage of the absence of passersby to have a taste of your lips. 

“Not here, my love… someone could see us,” You say consciously, a pretty blush coming to your cheeks and your eyes wide in scandal, but that only served your betrothed to be further amused. He let out a breath, his hand reaching for your cheek to feel the softness and warmness of your skin. “Gods, what have I done to deserve such a beautiful betrothed,” Aemond complimented, biting back a smirk as he knew all too well how to make you yield. Just an ounce more of his attention and perhaps a compliment or two, and you’ll be putty in his hands. Having you unable to deny any requests that came from Aemond. 

He watched you further reddened at his words, and Aemond took advantage of the moment and sealed your lips with a kiss, one that you did not deny him off as your heart and mind were muddled by the words he uttered. 

In truth, it should concern him how easy you were to yield to words and mere attention. It took him years to come to terms with the fact that there might be some bastard out there who was more determined than he was and would steal you away from him, and you would leave Aemond heartbroken. Jealousy is a lesser and pitiful emotion, but he could not help but feel as such as men were determined to shower you with affection and attention the minute Aemond was not by your side. He knew that your father believed that the reason he would often venture to Catserly Rock was because you called for him. That was true, but another agenda was to scare off the other men that always seem to flock and line up before you. 

Luckily, he slowly started to realize that even if you were quick to yield to words and attention, you only did it for him. The moment he confessed his love and devotion to you, you no longer entertained your wall of suitors. No spare glance was given, any gift bestowed was returned, and all your attention was placed on Aemond, just as he had preferred it. 

When the day of your wedding came, Aemond was restless in excitement. Finally, after waiting for years to have you, when the sun set that day, you would be forever bound to him by the eyes and laws of gods and men. 

Your excitement, on the other hand, was being dampened by your father, who had been questioning you throughout the whole day. “Are you truly certain, my darling? I… Disregard the feast and the preparations made. If you have any reservations, you must tell me immediately. I can handle any contempt if—“ You sighed heavily, a smile gracing your face as you stepped closer to your father, who was responsible for how you were. He was the one to spoil and indulge you ever since you were born, and you understood that he only wished to make certain that you will not be married off to a man who would have no plans to continue that lavishness and customs you were raised in.

“Father, I am certain. I love him. And I had hoped that throughout the years, he has proven himself worthy.” You say softly, taking hold of your father’s hand. Lord Lannister sighed. Of course, the prince had proven himself worthy. It was only just that the lord had now come to realize that you will no longer be under his care. He had trouble grasping the concept that you would no longer reside in Casterly Rock but instead live in Kingslanding and bear the name Targaryen. 

“Father, as you know, my dear husband-to-be is quite impatient and sometimes irrational… but Aemond waited for me. He courted me for three years just because you would not let us marry any sooner. I do not hold that against you, father. In truth, I greatly appreciate it because it made me see that he truly does love me. And for that, I am certain that he is the one I wish to marry.” You said softly, trying hard to convince your father of this union. They often say that the day of a wedding could cause doubts and cold feet; you just expected it to come from you or Aemond, not your father. 

“Very well. But you must tell me or your uncle immediately the moment the prince treats you any less than what you deserve.” He said, and you nodded with a beaming smile, linking your arms as the ceremonies were to take place and your father was to walk you down the aisle. 

“You look enchanting, my heart.” Aemond lowly whispered as you sat next to him at the feast to celebrate your union. “Thank you, husband,” You say with a wide smile, watching as Aemond’s lilac eye grow darker as you called him by his new title. “Say that again,” He said darkly, the pressing need he had for you only growing, and he feared he could truly no longer restrain himself. 

He had desired to have all of you for years. To taste and feel every inch of you, but he had hindered himself. Though both of you knew that in the end, you two would be husband and wife, and the wedding was only a formality, Aemond still placed control upon himself from claiming every part of you. Though you, his little wife, was a flirt. Who often indulges him with teases and suggestive notions, you were still a lady who had guarded her virtue until her marriage. There was nothing shared but chaste and secret kisses between you two, and neither of you could wait any longer to discover the pleasures that marriage life had to offer. 

“Say what again, husband?” You teased and smirked, but it was quickly wiped off as your husband quickly stood and whisked you out of the hall for the bedding ceremony to begin. A ceremony that rang through the halls as your cries of pleasure could be heard from the highest tower of the keep and into the lowlies of dungeons. Safe to say that no one debated your union afterwords for a dragon had found a lion to be its life long companion.

“Where are you going?” You mewled as you felt your husband release his hold on you and leave your warm, marital bed. The two of you had been married for more than two years now, but you still acted as if your ceremonies were made just yesterday. You were always eager to be by your husband’s side. 

“I have a meeting with the small council, my heart. Go back to sleep… I shall return again when you wake so we can break our fast together.” Aemond murmured, sitting by the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through your hair as an effort to lull you back to sleep because he could not grow distracted by your insistence of him staying because he knew all too well that he would yield at your request. 

“But that is not until first light… the sun has not even replaced the moon. Come now, my love, do not leave your wife.” You yawned as you tugged at your husband’s arm, missing the feeling of his frame against yours. 

“I still have to train,” Aemond reasoned, trying not to cave in even though your voice and insistence pulled him in. “You could train later… and I could watch and cheer you on. Please, my love, come back to bed.” You say, further peeling your eyes open to plead with your husband. You knew he would give in. He still hadn’t placed his eye-patch, and that often signified that he was not yet ready to start his day. There was still room for you to convince him not to leave the warmth and comfort of your marital bed and your arms. 

“Aemond, come now, my love. You would not want to upset your beloved wife so early in the morning, do you?” You asked, a sly threat on your lips. Though you were quite clingy and dependent on your husband, there were times that you prospered when he was not in your presence. It had only happened thrice where you and Aemond grew cross with one another, and Aemond, a man who never apologizes, who never surrenders, would always be the first to yield and amend things even if your disagreement was not his fault. An excellent fleet of his patience. 

He could not bear it when you were cross with him. He could not stomach to see you be out of his reach. He always wondered how you could be so indifferent and avoidant during arguments when usually you were stuck permanently by his side. It was as if you were not yourself. And Aemond could not bear it to see you place your attention on other people whilst ignoring him. Somehow, you had turned his aloof and stoic demeanor to one that mirrored your needy and dependent self. 

Aemond sighed and cupped your cheek. “Very well, but soon as the first cock crows, I must leave.” He said and waited for your agreement, but you were reluctant to give it. “Why can't you just skip today’s meeting? You are overworking yourself— you have barely any time for yourself— let alone me.” You pouted, and Aemond let out an amused breath and placed a chaste kiss on your pouted lips. “I am their king, my light. I must be there to oversee the happenings in the kingdom.” Aemond said in amusement. 

Aye, Aemond was now king, and his way to the throne was paved by bloodshed and war. Just a few moons after your marriage, King Viserys was taken by his multitude of maladies, and a war for the Iron Throne broke out. Those were the darkest of days, and neither you nor Aemond wished to recall them anymore because that was the most trying time of your marriage. 

You nearly went crazed when you woke up one day to a cold, empty bed and a pathetic letter from your husband saying that he had to fight in the Riverlands. Aemond knew it was cowardly to leave and sneak out in the dead of night instead of explaining to you the magnitude and urgency of the situation. But he could not do it because he knew you would put up a fight and insist that he bring you along. Aemond could not make any such risks. 

You had only gone one day without your husband by your side before you too sneaked out of the castle with your guards who you had generously bribed and rode to Harrenhal. To say that Aemond was furious was an understatement. He, however, could not help but feel touched and endeared as you had once again proven to him how desperate you were to be by his side. And ever since then, the longest time apart between you and your husband ever since marriage was just a mere three days. You were still bitter about that fact, and Aemond could only happily try and stir your mind away from that unfortunate occurrence. 

“Do you love me?” You suddenly questioned as Aemond was still only sitting on the edge of your bed instead of lying down next to you with his arms wrapped tightly around your frame. “My heart, what a question. I love you more than anything in this world. You were the reason I came to understand what love meant.” Aemond answered, leaning closer to you as he tried to smooth away the furrow between your brows. 

“Very well then. If you love me, why are you so insistent on leaving our bed and my presence?” You asked, and Aemond paused for a moment before a smile broke on his lips at your expecting, frowning face. “Oh, my heart.” Was all Aemond could say before conceding and laying his head next to yours. You were quick to invade his space, practically sprawling yourself atop his frame and making him wrap his arms around you. “You’re quite needy, you know that, yes?” Aemond questioned as he once again ran his fingers through your hair. You were practically purring as he continued to do such actions. “I know. But I as well know that that is what made you love me.” You smiled slyly and burrowed your head on his chest to smell him further because his scent always managed to bring you calm. 

Aemond sighed in marital bliss and placed a lingering kiss atop your head as you began to slowly drift into slumber in his arms. He turned to the balcony of your chambers as dawn was approaching, and he would have to leave you to oversee his duties. He savored each moment that he had you in his arms because he knew it would be long, torterous hours before he’d be in your presence again. 

When the first cock crowed, Aemond let out a grevious sigh as he tried to stir you to your side of the bed but you, of course, resisted. “No.” You muttered in your deep sleep. “Please, my heart. Must we do this each and every morning?” Aemond questioned, exercising his patience with you. “That is precisely the point. We do this every morning, and you leave me every morning. Why can it not be my turn? Why can’t you just stay?” You asked and waited for your husband’s answer, but he only peppered kisses on your face, an effort to distract you. It did.

“Go back to sleep, and I promise that when you wake up, we shall break our fast together,” Aemond whispered and quickly kissed your lips to muddle your mind, and all you could do was nod. Aemond placed a kiss on your lips again, a kiss that further made you lightheaded by with how his tongue would tease yours and how your husband’s hand would linger ever so lightly on your bosom. 

You barely had time to process it before Aemond pulled away and quickly dressed while you were still intoxicated by your kiss so he could slip out of your chambers without any more qualms leaving your plush lips. When you hear the door shut lightly, your trance dissolves, and you huff in frustration before curling up in your bed once more and waiting for your husband to return. 

Aemond hurried through the halls of the castle to reach you in the garden before your patience wears thin. He had dismissed the small council for the morning and decided that they shall meet once again that afternoon when you were usually distracted by court. “You’re late. The food and tea had grown cold.” You said as you feel your husband's presence. 

Aemond sighed heavily and moved to kiss you, but you moved away in annoyance. “You should have eaten earlier, my heart,” Aemond said and sat across from you. He hurriedly placed items of various colorful dishes on your plate, but you could only glower at your husband. He had made you wait a whole half hour before joining you in the gardens!

“I have no appetite.” You gritted, and Aemond pursed his lips as he made your tea to your liking, the liquid now tepid and would not be appealing to consume. “Apoligies, my heart. It is just the small council—“ You rolled your eyes as whatever reason he offered from one ear and out the other. Aemond narrowed his eye as he watched you roll your eyes at him. He must admit, now he was growing annoyed as well. 

“You’re acting quite spoiled. I have already apologized; it was beyond my control.” Aemond muttered under his breath as a rare occurrence of his patience of you wore thin. However, Aemond quickly regretted his words as he saw your eye twitch in annoyance, and you quickly stood. “Let us go, Ser Adam.” You say coldly, now greatly frustrated at your husband because not only did he neglect you that morning, he had also offended you.

Aemond called for you as he watched your departing form with your knight. He sighed heavily and shook his head as he saw you walk closer to your knight as the both of you disappeared from the gardens, a pang of jealousy coursing through him. 

The moment Aemond was made king, he assigned to you the most capable and skilled knight in the kingdom. He, unfortunately, was also the most comely knight at their disposal, making unfavorable emotions arise in Aemond. It was bad enough that the knight was constantly by your side, assisting you throughout the day, and his job being quite literally placing all his attention towards you— and for him to be comely and agreeable? That was simply adding insult to injury. It was safe to say that your closeness with your knight was the biggest threat Aemond could think of. Even greater than the actual threats that come with him having the conqueror’s crown upon his brow. 

Because of the unfortunate occurrences during the morning, Aemond was distracted by the thought of you the entire day. Aemond had only begun the second session of the small council before he abruptly ended it after just two measly matters. He was wrapped in jealousy, uncertainty, and guilt, as he could not even bear for you to be out of sorts for just a few moments. 

He walked through the halls of the keep once more, knowing at this hour you would be with the majority of the court to watch the jesters perform. He saw you in the great hall gathered with your ladies, made and gleefully laughing at the performance. Aemond stood by the door for a moment, admiring the way your eyes would crinkle and how a smile beamed on your lips. However, as he saw you leaning closer to your knight who stood by your side and motioned for him to lower so you could whisper something in his ear, Aemond was quick to grow enraged, especially as a smirk found its way to your knight’s lips. 

Aemond quickly made his way to his proper place, which was by your side. The courtiers were surprised to see the presence of their dutiful king but still gave him respect. You sighed as the entertainment you watched ceased, and the court jesters bowed to their king. You did not even give your husband a sparing glance as you were still quite hurt at what he had called you earlier. 

Aemond took his seat next to you as the performance began once more. He could feel you ever so slyly move away, and that frustrated him further. “Let go of me.” You said quietly as your husband had enough of your antics and simply just moved you to make him sit on his lap. He was quite swift that you had no time to react or possibly forsee his actions. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Us in each other’s company. I am simply giving you what you wish for— like always.” Aemond said, without a care with how the court were no longer watching the performance but rather eyed their king and queen. “We are before other people.” You gritted as you once again stirred on his lap, mortified as you were never one for public displays of affection, which Aemond found curious because when behind closed doors, not a whole army could pry you off him. 

“I do not care.” He whispered in your ear, and you placed a tight smile on your lips as you realized that the court was starting to take notice of your reluctance to be in your husband’s presence. Heaven forbid they start to whisper about your marriage. You huffed and had naught a choice but to rest on your husband’s lap until the performance ended. 

“You smell quite lovely, little wife… is that the perfume I gifted you on your seventeenth name day?” Aemond murmured against your skin, his nose nuzzled in your neck as you tried your best efforts to ignore him. Aemond smirked and placed light kisses on your neck as he knew that just the right touch or the correct compliment would have you melting in his hands. 

You stayed silent, trying to remember the offense your husband had just committed moments earlier. However, it was growing harder to remind yourself as his kisses on your skin burned you with desire and his hold on your waist was inching higher towards your bossom, your peaks already hardening with just the thought of his cold, calloused hands growing near. 

“You are aware that it is treason to ignore your king, my heart,” Aemond whispered and nipped the lobe of your neck, the court’s gaze no longer upon you two as just one glare from their king had made them quickly focus all their attention on the jesters and leave you two be. 

“How can I be ignoring the king when I am quite literally on his lap?” You gritted and once again struggled to get out of his hold. You, however, froze a deep, silent groan left Aemond’s lips, a sound that was for your ears only. “Why had you ceased? You were burrowing into me so perfectly, my heart.” Your cheeks bloomed with color as you felt his desire poking against your bum. 

“Have you no restraint, husband?” You asked, half in mortification and half with desire. “None when it comes to you, my heart. I would think you would have known that by now.” Aemond smriked as he saw how gooseflesh rose to your skin as his breath fanned your neck. “Aemond,” You gritted, taking a firm hold on his hand that was wrapped around your waist. 

Your breathing starts to heave, and your heart starts stuttering. “Just say the word, dear wife. And I shall whisk you off to our chambers. Or perhaps… make them all disappear so I could hear your cries of pleasure echo around these great halls.” 

“Say what you wish for, my heart and I shall always give it to you,” Aemond swore, and at his words, your eyes practically rolled back as just his voice was able to place damp between your thighs. “Make them go away,” You whispered, and Aemond smirked as he quickly barked the orders for everyone to leave you two and no one should enter the halls until he says otherwise.

When the doors shut, you wasted no time in turning around to straddle your husband and smash both of your lips together. You ground your hips against his in a futile attempt to find friction, but whatever you feel through both of your clothed bodies is not enough. “This does not mean you are forgiven,” You moaned as Aemond sucked on teh sensitive part of your neck as his fingers moved to undo the ribbons of your bodice. 

“Whatever you say, my heart,” Aemond panted and quickly sought your lips as he could not have enough of the taste of you. “Oh gods— take it off already!” You said in frustration as Aemond fiddled with your gown, not fully taking it off, but you were already so desperate to feel his touch upon your skin. “So impatient you are, my heart,” Aemond hummed in tea, knowing full well that his own impatience had rubbed off on you, just as how your clingyness had rubbed off on him. 

You did not respond but only smashed your lips together once more and successfully removed his leather dublet. Your hands caressed his smooth, chiseled chest, your touch teasingly going lower, making your husband growl against your lips and him playfully nipping your lower lip. 

You were finally rid of your dress as Aemond made you stand just for you to take his place on his seat. You sat comfortably as Aemond stood before you, taking off his trousers. Your finger went to your lips as you bit your nails when a wicked thought of spreading your legs crossed your mind, and you quickly decided to do it. Aemond breathed heavily as you displayed for him your pretty cunny. Glistening and calling for his sole, undivided attention. 

“What do you want, my wife? Word it out already so I may give it to you,” Aemond said, on the verge of begging for you to let him taste your cunt. “I want you to kneel.” You whispered. “Kneel before your queen and feast on her cunt like a man starve and until there are tears streaming down her face.” You stated, settling further in your seat as a new wave of desire overtook you when you saw the way your husband’s lilac eye darkened. 

Aemond was quick to oblige your order and kneeled before you and burrowed his face into your cunt. He was lapping at your folds, the vulgar noises echoing into teh room and your moans only accompanied them as he sucked so heavenly at the pearl of your cunt.

“Gods— you do that so well, Aemond.” You moaned, gripping at his hair to feel more of him. Your eyes rolled back and a wonton sound left your lips as his tongue darted in and out of your whole and teh bridge of his nose burrowed at your nubbin.

Aemond smirked at the sound of your moans and the feel of your thighs wrapped around him. You were quick to come undone, and your husband could only greedily lick your essence, wasting not a drop of you. “Still as sweet as ever, my heart.” He murmered as his lips retruend to your skin and trailed upwards your body to take one of your heaving tits into the hot cavern of his mouth, toungue teasing the taut bud until teeth placed a quick nibble on the sensitive skin. 

Aemond took your still dazed body into his arms as he once again switched places and made you return to straddle him. Even through your haze, you had no trouble in sinking down his cock that slipped easily between your folds.

Aemond let out a deep, sensual humm of approval as he felt your walls clench around him and the tip of his cock made contact with the spot in your cunt that made you see stars as well as make you a dazed, moaning, cock drunk mess. 

“Gods look at you— I might have married a whore by how well you bounce on my cock.” Aemond gritted as he placed his hand in between you two so his fingers could pay attention to your cunt’s pearl. 

You could only moan a response, focusing on chasing your next high even if you had not truly recovered from the previous one. “Ae… Aemond—“ You called, panting, and your husband already knew what you meant to say. He quickly dipped his head to place a lasting nip on your tit before switching your positions for a third time as you could never really stay on top for long. It was too tiring and, quite frankly, distracting as you tried to search for your release. 

Luckily, your husband had no problem in doing most of the laborous work whilst you just layed before him and watched through lust fille eyes as he pounded into you so hard that it made your tits bounce so delictably for him. 

Aemond thrusted and thrusted upon your cunny, watching as how you gripped him so well. He caught the way as your hands found home on your breasts as you palmed the mounds to find further pleasure and to stable yourself as the orgasm you were chasing was quickly arriving, ready to wash over you and turn you into a blushing, mess of a whore for your husband; just as he often likes to remind you. 

“Aw, does my little wife wish to come? Is that you want, my heart?” Aemond taunted as he himself was close to his release, and you desperately nodded before him, unable to form words as you were completely overwhelmed. “Words, sweetheart, words. Just say it, and it shall be yours.”

You moaned and tried your best to take hold of your mind and control your tongue. “Yes! I— I want you to make me come— husband— please,” You all but yelled and with just a deep, stroke of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan that all the eavsdropper outside the hall heard. 

They could only blush and turn to the ground as it had been a reoccurring occurrence that their king and queen would be spontaneously get caught in the midst of passion anywhere, everywhere, and anytime, everytime in the walls of the Red Keep. But who could blame either of you, for everyone in the kingdom could see plainly that their queen and king were both quite impatient and desperate for one another. 

[mononijikayu]

cry baby — gojo satoru.

"You're trembling." you said, glancing at the tall, jittery man beside you. "I am not, I am…I’m not really!" Satoru replied indignantly, though his knee bounced at a speed that could launch satellites. "I’m just… alert. Observant. Ready for anything." You side-eyed him. “You're literally afraid of a five-second injection.” “I’m not afraid!” he scoffed at you, trying to act so strongly. “He might be. I’m empathizing. It’s called being a compassionate father. Look it up, will you?”

GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORD COUNT: 3k

NOTE: indulging myself on the idea that gojo satoru is the type of dad to be a cry baby when it comes to his kids. i feel like he's the very emotional, very tender father. and i wanted to write it. anyway, i hope you enjoy it a lot <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, GOJO SATORU KNEW HE HAS SEEN THE WORLD HAS TO OFFER. He’s seen and fought curses that tear people apart. He's known the many betrayals from all his allies, powerful or not.

He's known the fragility of life in its ugliest forms. Of course, if that was the case, he knew he would have been quite a different man. But this was a different matter entirely. 

You knew that the moment your son was born, your husband would be more of a different man. Your young boy was the most important blessing in your lives, after all.

When it comes to his son, his precious baby boy, his beautiful and brightly shining Satoshi, everyone just knows that Gojo Satoru becomes a mess.

You had always known that protectiveness becomes instinctual, it comes with the word parent. Your husband can fight a thousand curses without blinking, but the moment a nurse walks into the room holding a syringe?

He’s sweating bullets. This was how he was now he has become a father. He’s become more overbearing than when Satoshi was a baby. Perhaps even more than you.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust medicine at all. He does, very much so. Logically. Intellectually. He knows that it’s safe, and science proves it. Yet, Satoru completely explained it to you before. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have approved for his little boy to get the medicine. 

But emotionally? He’d rather swap places with his son in a heartbeat than let Gojo Satoshi feel a moment of discomfort. He would rather feel every inch of pain than see his precious little boy cry in his arms with such a miserable face.

At doctor’s appointments, he’s that parent. The one hovering too close. Asking too many questions. Looking up medical journals five minutes before the appointment and citing studies the pediatrician already knows.

He’s Gojo Satoru, so of course he thinks he knows better about all of this. Even when the poor nurse just wants to give Satoshi a routine vaccine.

And the irony of it all is that you’re the calm one. Level-headed. Reassuring. You’re the one who gently keeps Satoshi distracted with a lollipop or a little toy while Gojo Satoru paces behind you like a caged tiger in his Gucci tracksuit. 

You don’t wanna judge your husband, though. Maybe it comes with being a Zeni’n. Your father was the opposite of every other Zeni’n out in the world. He was a gentle sort of man, jovial and tender too.

But he too didn’t bat an eye when you were getting the injection or when you scrapped your knee or even when you ended up injuring yourself during training.

Though come to think of it, your mother was the same too…..Maybe it was just a familial trait for you to not feel like its the end of the world to see your little one face the world one step at a time. Starting with a needle.

The pediatrician’s office smelled faintly of disinfectant and bubblegum stickers. Little Satoshi somehow has become fond of the smell, which your husband was rather horrified about. You were used to it by now, though. 

Six year old Gojo Satoshi checkups were always like clockwork. It was rather easy, almost too easily the routine that comes once every few months. They were supposed to be done within thirty minutes, maybe even less. At least, they were supposed to be. Instead, they never are what they should be.

"You're trembling." you said, glancing at the tall, jittery man beside you.

"I am not, I am…I’m not really!" Satoru replied indignantly, though his knee bounced at a speed that could launch satellites. "I’m just… alert. Observant. Ready for anything."

You side-eyed him. “You're literally afraid of a five-second injection.”

“I’m not afraid!” he scoffed at you, trying to act so strongly. “He might be. I’m empathizing. It’s called being a compassionate father. Look it up, will you?”

Across the room, Gojo Satoshi was perfectly unbothered, legs swinging off the exam table, face buried in a dinosaur book the nurse had handed him. You leaned back in your chair, amused. The precious young master of the Gojo clan seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Young master Gojo Satoshi is sitting on the exam table, swinging his legs. Brave. Calm. Almost eerily relaxed, considering his dad is pacing like the world is ending. The little boy started humming to himself. You were quick to pick up on the Digimon soundtrack.

“Son, how can you be this calm?” Satoru cried out. “You’re getting needles on you! Ah, this is a bad idea!”

“It’s one needle, 'toru.” You shake your head at your husband. "He’s fine. You’re the one breaking a sweat."

"I'm just saying!" Satoru muttered, voice dropping to a hiss. "Needles are unnecessary. Painful. Medieval. There are better ways. I could reverse-engineer a technique that boosts immunity naturally. Something with cursed energy and kale."

You gave him a look. “You're not turning our son into a science experiment.”

"Technically, it’d be a wellness experiment—"

The door opened, and the nurse stepped in with a warm smile and a tray in hand. “Okay, Satoshi-kun! Just one quick poke and you’re all set, sweetie.”

Gojo Satoru shot to his feet like she’d entered with a grenade. “Wait, wait—what’s in that? Let me see the vial. Is that a fresh needle? Did it come out of a sealed pack? What about his arm, should we ice it first—?”

"Gojo Satoru.” Your voice was gentle but firm.

He glanced at you. Then at Satoshi. Then at the needle. Then back at you. Gojo Satoru felt like he was outmatched by the Zen'in blood in both of you for a second.

Satoshi rolled up his sleeve without a word. “I want the dinosaur sticker, miss nurse!”

“Well, we will definitely have to give you one! Since you’re a brave boy, no?” The nurse smiled, swabbed his arm, and in one smooth motion, it was done.

"Are we finished now, miss nurse?" Satoshi asked, beaming bright. "I want the Doraemon stickers!"

"We don't have Doraemon right now." The nurse retorted back to him, looking through the drawer for a band-aid. "How about Pokemon?"

"Wah, if there's a Steelix, hand it over, please!" He replies all too jolly, leaning forward.

"Alright, there's some here." She says to him. "But let's be patient. I need to put a band-aid on you before I go on and give you some stickers."

"Okay!"

Satoru blinked. “That’s it?”

“All done!” the nurse chirped, sticking a band-aid over the injection site.

Satoru was pale. “Are you sure? I remember this being longer.....And he didn’t even flinch…”

You ruffled your son's hair. “Because he’s braver than his papa.”

Satoru dropped to his knees beside the table and took Satoshi’s hands in both of his hands, his son enjoying the Pokemon stickers. “You’re a warrior. A legend. My strong little man. I’m so proud.”

Satoshi looked unimpressed at his father’s sudden burst of pride. He looks up as he pockets the stickers. “Can I get the ice cream now?”

Satoru sprang up. “Yes. Absolutely. Two scoops. No, three. And whipped cream. And gummies.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to spoil him if you keep doing this, 'toru.”

“I should spoil him. He’s a hero. Did you see him? He just stared a sharp piece of metal in the eye and didn’t even blink. That’s our son, babe.”

The nurse chuckled. “Would Dad like a sticker too?”

Satoru turned slowly toward her, dead serious. “…Do you have any with pandas?”

"I think so." The nurse says to him in reply. "Are you sure you don't want Pokemon?"

Satoru scoffed. "I'm a Digimon stan."

Soon after, they were in the car travelling to Satoshi's favorite ice-cream joint. It wasn't that far from the hospital which was good since you wouldn't have to drive very far.

When you arrived, your husband all but ordered so fast. Then started bragging about how brave Satoshi is, and Satoshi started to brag about his Pokemon stickers. It was a lot but the dream of ice-cream felt worth it.

A little while after that, you were walking out with a sugar-high Gojo Satoshi clutching more stickers from the ice-cream shop in one hand and a bubblegum ice cream on the other hand. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Gojo Satoru kept glancing down at his son's arm, where the nurse had playfully slapped a panda sticker. You looped your arm around his, trying to get him out of that worried trance.

“Are you good now?”

“I wasn’t not good before, I suppose…..” he replied, then paused. “Okay, maybe I was a little stressed.”

You smirked. “Just a little?”

“Fine. A lot. Happy?”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Very.”

He grinned, finally relaxing. “I just want him safe. That’s all.”

“I know that.” you whispered. “And he is.”

He glanced down at precious son, Satoshi, who was all but skipping ahead of you both, already excitedly talking about where he'll put his new favorite stickers. Gojo Satoru's smile softened, full of warmth at the joy his son was feeling.

“Yeah, yeah.” he said quietly. “He really is.”

EVERYTHING WENT BY TOO FAST. But it started innocently enough. Fushiguro Tsumiki had been cleaning out the storage closet when she found a dusty old camcorder tucked behind a box of outdated holiday decorations.

Of course, that led to her brother, Fushiguro Megumi, to go and dig out the charger almost just as quickly. You encouraged them, finding yourself excited to see what would come up in the camcorder.

And before you knew it, your massive living room had turned into an impromptu family theater to enjoy a little bit of a movie night while Satoru was on break. Of course, it was complete with various kinds of popcorn, all of the floor cushions, and everyone’s curiosity dialed to max. 

"These are from when Satoshi was born, I think." you said, settling onto the couch.

Satoru flopped beside you, smug. "Prepare to witness peak fatherhood, everyone."

Megumi shook his head. “I doubt it.”

“Hey, don’t doubt your father like that!”

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Hm….That’s just to save face, I totally get that!”

“How did you even get to that conclusion?”

Tsumiki giggled at their commotion and soon hit play. The screen blinked to life, grainy but colorful, showing newborn Gojo Satoshi swaddled in a too-big hospital blanket.

A much younger Gojo Satoru appeared onscreen. One could see his signature blindfold pulled up onto his forehead, hair a mess, face exhausted but beaming.

Satoshi grinned. "That's me! Look at me, I'm so.....I'm so small, so cute!"

"You were that, kiddo." Satoru laughed, looking at the clip again. "Ah, it was just like yesterday all over again."

"Everything about that day was so memorable, it was just....Nothing could ever be like that again." You admitted to them, leaning back into the couch. "It's unexplainable, you know? Being there, it was just too much."

You all cooed appropriately when Satoshi's lips quivered into a small pout. Even Megumi who did it so discreetly. Satoru puffed up with pride.

“Look at my little jelly bean! He was so tiny!”

“Like, terrifyingly tiny, truly.” you added, smiling fondly at the screen. “I kept checking to make sure he was breathing.”

“And I kept checking to make sure you were breathing too.” Satoru chimed in, throwing an arm lazily across the back of the couch behind you. “You were so out of it, I thought I’d have to run diagnostics.”

“I had just pushed a whole human being out of my body, you know. Rather harshly, if I may say so myself.”

“A tiny, perfect human being, with all your will power, which I adore about you.” he said, undeterred as he kisses your hand. “Though, he has my impeccable cheekbones the moment he was born, for sure.”

“Cheekbones?” Megumi muttered, deadpan. “He looked like a potato.”

Tsumiki covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “A cute potato.”

“Thank you, 'miki!” Satoru said, pointing at her dramatically. “Finally, someone with taste in this family.”

The video continued: hospital lighting, that sterile tint softening as the camera adjusted. Onscreen, you were in bed, hair a little plastered to your forehead.

Your eyes bleary but full of something too tender for words. Satoru sat beside you, cradling Satoshi in his arms like he was holding the very first star ever born.

“I was so scared I’d break him, you know?” Satoru murmured suddenly, quieter now. His voice, both onscreen and beside you, had dipped. “But then he grabbed my finger and didn’t let go. Like he was already telling me to get it together.”

“He did that to me too!” you whispered, leaning into his shoulder. “Even then, he had you wrapped around his little finger.”

“I am not ashamed about that at all.” Satoru said proudly. “I would go to war for that baby.”

“You cried, didn't you?” Megumi pointed out, as the video showed a very misty-eyed Satoru trying to pretend he wasn’t misty-eyed.

“I was moved, okay? It’s called emotional maturity.”

“It’s called being dramatic.” Megumi replied.

“I am dramatic.” Satoru declared. “And a fantastic father.”

The camera angle shifted as the nurse behind it said something about the first injection, and on cue, you and Satoru visibly tensed. Everyone on the couch hushed, watching the past version of you both steel yourselves while baby Satoshi squirmed gently in your arms.

“You were ready to punch the nurse, weren't you?” you said softly, laughing.

“She was a nice nurse!” he defended, throwing up his hands. “But yeah, I was ready to fight. That needle looked like a sword to me.”

“I had to remind him it wasn’t a duel!” you said to the kids.

Onscreen now, Gojo Satoshi let out a shrill cry at the prick, and real-time Satoru winced all over again, clutching his chest dramatically. Tsumiki let out an awestruck sound, while Megumi was just intently watching everything, like he was memorizing it.

“I felt that.” he said, slumping sideways until his head rested in your lap. “That day shaved years off my life.”

“Yet here you are, fully recovered and annoying as ever.” Megumi said.

Tsumiki leaned forward, smiling. “But it’s kinda sweet. I mean… seeing you like that.”

Satoru grinned up at you. “See? Told you I peaked early.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing your fingers through his hair absently. “You haven’t peaked. You’re still climbing.”

He caught your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Then I’ll keep climbing as long as you’re with me.”

Megumi groaned. “Can I leave now?”

“Nope.” Tsumiki said, patting his shoulder with a teasing grin. “You’re part of this dysfunctional sentimental family now. No escape.”

"Megu-nii! Please stay." Satoshi said, almost standing up to go to Megumi.

"H—" Megumi lets out a sound as he saw Satoshi's bright eyes. He gulped. He knows he can't say no to him, after all. ".....Fine, I'll stay."

"Yay!" Satoshi cheered, getting back to his comfortable position once again.

"Oh, I think the clip is changing again." You say as the video ends. You looked at Satoru. "Weren't there multiple reels here?"

".....I think so, i don't really remember." He admits to you. "I mean, we did take a lot of footage. I just don't remember which this upcoming one is."

“Alright, Satoru!” Ieri Shoko’s voice was in the back, likely holding a camera as the new video starts. “Stop crying already!”

“Can you not right now, Sho? I’m nervous here!” Satoru’s voice comes into the zone. “I hate you! This is the worst day of my life and you’re being cheery about this.”

“Yeah, your misery is my business too, big baby.”

“Now, now.” Your voice ended up following suit. “I don’t think you should be doing this here—”

“But she started it!”

“Yeah, yeah! Cry baby!”

“Sho–”

“Oh, it’s auntie Shoko!” Tsumiki cheers as she hears the voice. “I didn’t know she was there.”

You nodded at her with a small smile. “Yeah, she drove us there since she was the one who knew the doctor who did Satoshi’s injections.”

“Gojo–sensei losing it is hilarious.”

“Megumi, you really have no mercy for your father?”

“Again, you’re not my dad!”

Tsumiki looked at you. “But wait, where were we when you guys were at the hospital with ‘toshi?”

“You were with grandma, she picked you up from school too.” You said, patting her head. “She made those muffins with you, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right!”

Satoshi’s mouth went agape, eyes opened wide. “But I look so small, don’t I? I could fit in your hands so fully!”

“You did.” Satoru nodded at his son, letting himself stare at him fondly. Even when he wasn’t going to look back to him. “You truly did fit in my arms, because you were so tiny.”

“Ehhhh, but now I’m big!”

“That you are.” You giggle, patting his head as you gaze at his enthusiasm at the screen. "Too big to be in my arms like that."

Then the screen cut to a new scene: a shaky shot of a baby clinic, the kind with pastel animal decals peeling slightly at the edges and a faint antiseptic smell you could almost imagine through the screen. 

Gojo Satoshi, just a few months old, lay bundled in a soft blue blanket on the exam table, cooing obliviously at the mobile spinning above him.

Shoko slowly let the camera lingered on his tiny face, round and pink with sleep, then panned shakily to Satoru. Still pacing, anxious, out of place in a world of lullabies and latex gloves.

You were in the frame too, half-seated on the plastic chair beside the table, one hand gently smoothing the blanket over Satoshi’s legs, the other reaching instinctively for Satoru’s sleeve each time he passed close enough.

He kept walking, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, jaw tight, bright blue eyes flicking from the baby to the nurse prepping the syringe. He looked almost like he was the one who's getting the shot.

“He’s too little for this.” Satoru muttered under his breath. 

You offered a small, tired smile. “He’s supposed to be little. He’s a baby.”

“Yeah, Satoru, calm down.” Shoko says behind the camera once again. “It's not like he's going to be angry about it for the rest of his life.”

“That’s exactly my point! He could feel like that!” he whispered, crouching beside you, peering over the edge of the table to look at Satoshi. “Look at him. He trusts us. He has no idea what’s about to happen.”

“He’s getting a vaccine, not a betrayal.” you replied, voice low, teasing, but not unkind. "It's for his health, he'll understand."

You were trying to hold steady for both of them, especially with Shoko pushing Satoru’s button too. Your baby and your husband, who looked more panicked than either of you had ever seen him during exorcisms or emergencies.

The nurse came over, cheerful in the way professionals are when they know something small is going to hurt. “Okay, Mom and Dad, this’ll be quick. Just a little pinch.”

Satoru stood up so fast his chair scraped backwards. “Wait—should I hold him? Or should you? No, you’re better with—actually, maybe I should—”

“I’ll hold him, don’t worry.” you said gently, lifting Satoshi and cradling him to your chest, careful to leave one thigh exposed as instructed. 

Satoshi blinked up at you, unaware, still calm. Satoru hovered, arms twitching like he couldn’t decide where to put them. He looked at Shoko for a moment and then you.But then quickly stared at his son, more warmly than ever before.

He crouched closer to you again, face closer to his son. He finds himself whispering at him, “You got this, little guy. You're stronger than your old man, I can already tell.”

The needle went in. Satoshi’s face scrunched. His bright blue eyes screwed shut. A second passed. Shoko points the camera at Satoru’s face. Almost instantly, there was that resounding wail. That tiny, sharp, helpless cry pierced straight through you.

Gojo Satoru flinched like he’d been struck. You rocked Satoshi immediately, whispering into his ear, shushing, soothing, kissing the crown of his head. Satoru reached out a hesitant hand to touch the baby’s arm, then pulled back like he wasn’t sure he had the right.

“He’s okay.” you said softly, your own throat tight. “He’s okay, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t ready for that sound. Oh my god. I feel like crying....holy—” he said, sitting beside you, shoulders folding inward like someone who’d taken a punch. “That… that shouldn’t be allowed. Babies shouldn’t cry like that. I feel like I need to fight someone.”

“Fight the syringe?” you teased, brushing your cheek against Satoshi’s. “I think the nurse already won.”

Satoru exhaled a half-laugh, half-sigh. “I should’ve held him. I should’ve done something.”

“You’re here. That’s everything already, you know?” you said, and turned so he could see Satoshi’s face, already settling, eyes blinking drowsily again, the wail fading to hiccups. “Look. He’s already forgiving us.”

Satoru leaned in, resting his forehead briefly against yours, and then against the side of Satoshi’s soft little head. “I’ll make it up to you, kid.” he whispered. “Ice cream. At six months. Or sooner. I’ll figure it out.”

Shoko laughed, more fondly than ever before. “Now, that’s just promising to spoil him the way you were.”

“Of course, my kid deserves the whole world!” Satoru retorts back to his friend. “I’ll spoil him rotten!”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hm?”

The camera zoomed out, capturing the three of you: a little family, wrapped around one small moment that, later, would become legend.

The day Gojo Satoru learned what helplessness really felt like and how deeply he could love something, someone. And that had changed his entire world. Just as much as it did yours.

The footage trembled slightly, then faded to black. You let out a small sigh and looked at your husband who was just shaking his head. His gaze trailed at you, leading to him shaking his head soon after.

Tsumiki burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you were losing it, Satoru–san!”

"Now, don't get too happy about that, 'miki! I was a wreck!"

"Was that snot falling down your nose?"

"Megumi!? I would never!"

"But there was some, I saw it—"

On the lower echelons of the sofa couch, you started to notice sniffing. Your face scrunches. You turned to your son. All the sudden, Satoshi’s bottom lip trembled.

“Wait, are you crying? Are you okay, Sato-kun?”

The six-year-old wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Papa loved me so much… Papa! Papa, you loved Satoshi so much?”

Satoru immediately swooped in, pulling Satoshi into his lap. “Of course I did! I do! You’re my whole world, buddy!”

You leaned over, rested your chin on Satoru’s shoulder, and whispered, “You were crying more than the baby.”

Satoru looked at you, eyes wide. “That was a vulnerable moment, okay? I was being emotionally transparent. And you and Shoko were filming me instead of comforting me, by the way.”

You smirked. “Oh, I comforted the one who needed it most and that is my precious Gojo Satoshi.”

"But I'm also your precious husband!" Satoru pouted.

"Hm, but that's another thing."

"Hah!? No, it's not!"

Tsumiki giggled, shaking her head. “This is so going in the family group chat.”

“No, don’t!” Satoru shakes his head. “Your auntie Shoko’s going to make fun of me again! After I put it all behind me, you're giving her more ammunition!”

“Good.” Megumi crossed his arms but smirked faintly. “I mean, I always knew you were dramatic about being a dad. I just didn’t know it started this early in Satoshi’s life.”

Satoshi sniffled into Satoru’s shirt. “It’s okay, Papa. I don’t remember the betrayal.”

Satoru gasped. “See?! He knew!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, placing a kiss on your husband’s temple. “You big softie.”

He pouted. “You’re lucky I’m cute for you and only you, hm?”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, hm.” you said, eyes twinkling. “It’s a curse I bear. A very loud, very overprotective, very sticker-loving curse.”

Satoshi, now fully recovered, perked up. “Do I get a sticker for crying this time?”

Satoru grinned. “We all get stickers tonight.”

[thelonestarinthesky]

Aight you’re taking requests? I got one for you.

Senku x architect reader

Reader helped Senku make a bunch of his blueprints before the petrification, and once he has his footing in the kingdom of science he decides to send out a group to go looking for Reader’s statue. Only to realize it was one of the many statue’s tsukasa destroyed >:) how do you think yuzuriah would react when she realizes one of the latest statues she repaired was Reader’s? How quickly would Senku try to revive reader after the war with tsukasa is over?

ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ

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pairing: senku x f!reader

a/n: Thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!!!

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Back in the modern world, Senku would most of the time not make his own blueprints. After all, that's why he had [Name] with him. She didn't complain, happy that her drawing skills would at least help him with his learning passion of science.

The two are childhood friends, Senku had practical dragged [Name] in his goal of making a spacecraft, seeing the girl doodle in her notebook during lunch time, taking this to his advantage, the trio was born, before Yuzuriha joined a couple years later.

Up until the purification, she was always by his side, equally showing his excitement in Science because that meant being useful to him by making blueprints and getting his praise!

Drinking his energy drink, Senku looks over at the girl for a brief moment as she happily draws out his idea.

"[Name]!" She looks up confused, hearing his voice only to see a bright light coming straight to her.

"Ah shit." She says, dropping her sketch book.

—

It had been 3700+ years since the world was turned to stone, Senku had tried to look for [Name]'s statue when he had free time but no luck. After Gen had found him wandering around the forest, he knew that Senku quietly looking for someone must mean that they're very important to him.

So, with a little convincing, gathered some of the villagers look for the statue.

When they did actually find said statue, Senku had stood before all the broken pieces of the broken stone. He didn't say anything at first before quietly thanking everyone for their help with the search.

Bending down to gather the broken stones, Gen noticed his shoulder slightly shaking.

After winning the war with Tsukasa, he handed the broken pieces to Yuzuriha before quietly telling her to fix this statue inside the small hut besides the laboratory. Yuzuriha agreed to do so, a little confused with how serious he was. Even stating that fixing this statue would be her first priority with the other ones.

The girl spent days working on it, and Senku wouldn't dare come inside until Yuzuriha was almost done. Stepping back to see if the pieces matched, she almost dropped the pot filled with the substance she used to glue the stones back together, eyes wide with disbelief.

"[Name]?" She says in agony, hands shaking. Sure, she fixed a lot of statues in the past, but to fix one of her best friends makes her want to vomit. Especially knowing that Tsukasa had taken part in her destruction since she was found near the Tsukasa empire.

After crying a bit, she was determined to fix [Name] now, fired up, spending three days without resting.

And soon enough, her best friend was fixed up.

Upon Yuzuriha telling Senku that she finally finished fixing [Name] up, he went over and dumped the revival fluid, a bottle of it he had hidden away when the three had left to escape Tsukasa in the beginning.

For the sole purpose of using it on [Name].

Yuzuriha squeal, clearly shocked on how he didn't hesitate, "Wait, Senku! She's not waring any-"

The [H/C] haired girl fell into his arms, unconscious, her hair barely covering her chest as Senku held her. A genuine smile on his lips as the girl slowly opened her eyes, eyes unfocused before looking up at Senku.

".." She blinks slowly, only to be met with a sight that she would never think she would ever see from Senku. The boy was trying to suppress his tears from rolling down his face but failing as the tears hit her face.

Ignoring the fact that she was completely naked, she comforted him first before Yuzuriha gave her clothes. While helping her face in them, Senku had his back facing them, rubbing his eyes, and ears flushed red.

Its been a couple weeks since [Name] was back, Senku would regular check her over, stating he wanted to make sure there wasn't an lingering side effects of the purification since she was put back together.

She was happily working on blue prints, Senku had made her a sketch book and pencils for her to work with. When he had mentioned building a ship, she went straight to work, laying down on the floor near to the telescope, completely in her work when she feels a hand on her legs, holding them down. Confused, she looks up to see it was Ssnku, looking a little annoyed.

"Oi, you're not wearing pants, so stop kicking your legs in the air. Someone can walk in and see under your dress." He says as she lets out a grumble since she's been interrupted.

Sitting down beside her, he looks over her designs. "Are these blueprints for the ship?" He asked. She nods, looking up at him as she rolls over on her back, legs pressed together and bent.

Her eyes stay on him as he flops the pages only to givgle quietly, "What's so funny?" He asked looking down at her.

"Oh, nothing. I just realized that nothing has really changed since the world changed. We always did this in your room, remember?" Smiling happily, she says

"...i guess you're right." He says, pushing the sketchbook onto her face as she complains about it, completely unaware of the way Senku's face is red. He's just glad that these moments stayed the same even if the world changed drastically.

not proof read so there might be spelling errors!