#my bad fanfic

[mythiearts]

This bit is at the Palace, when achilles let patroclus see him train (if he had let pat fight him another day)

We were sparring, he had let me mock fight him, although with blunt weapons so we didn't accidentally hurt eachother. The rules were that if he connected the tip of the blade to my chest then I lost, and if I managed to connect a blow to anywhere but his arms then I would win, he was winning 4-0. Today we had chosen a set of daggers, what we used most of the time, easily my favorite weapon due to having an excuse to be in close quarters with achilles, he had agreed because he "wasn't as good with them and needed practice" "lies" I told him "your good at everything", I felt myself going red from it already. He laughed like the sun was shining from his face. He squared up and I hunkered down a bit, still unsure of my stance, he smirked at me and the moment it took for me to recenter my thoughts was all he needed to dash over at me and strike, i hardly managed to catch his blade the moment before it hit my chest, bad thing was, I caught it with my hand going up into the blade, it worked, but now my hand was sore, maybe it was a good idea to use blunt weapons after all. I released his dagger, I caught his next blow with the flat of my blade and he moved and struck again, I barely able to deflect it before he struck again, we continued on like this until I noticed an opening and feigned striking higher, as I ducked to avoid a hit and jabbed for it he moved around to my back, "fast as ever" I said, not realising it had left my mouth until he replied "well I have to be known for something, no?" While I spun around to him, panting, he had barely broken a sweat, 'I have never seen him tired from this' I thought to myself, then 'I have never seen him tired' I realised he had me up against the palace wall, he was looking at me with his weapons at his sides, mine still being in my hand, clearly he thought i had given up, we were an inch away, I could do it, I moved my blade forward and barely touched his stomach, he looked down, confused and then looked up with a goofy smile that made me melt into one of my own "4-1" I said, smirking "I was distracted still 4-0" "your fault" "fine" he said with mock annoyance, "fine" I said, pretending to be all posh, releasing us into a fit of childish giggles. I walked away thinking "I distracted him?"

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[starmocha]

it was always you [Sylus/Reader ★ 10.6K words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] [part 2 of but if it’s forever, it’s even better] “A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.” A/N: I let Tumblr peer pressured me into writing a part two. ❤️ there is also an epilogue-ish part three…that I am still polishing up, so uh, give me another three weeks?????

You had always known Sylus was a man of his words. He had made it known time and time again that he would never flatter you, never betray you, and most certainly never lie to you, so when the man himself promised that he would get you pregnant, he was going to get you pregnant.

“Sylus—ah! I…I might already be preg—ah!”

You bit down into his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clinging to him and clenching tightly as he continued to drive into you mercilessly, showing no sign of stopping or easing until you were both finished. You cried into his shoulder, gasping and moaning needily, as he spread you more, taking you in deeper and just hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

“Ohhh…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to even remember what you were about to say.

“Can’t be too sure,” Sylus said with a wolfish grin, pleased to see you such a quivering mess beneath him, cheeks all flushed red and eyes dazed with complete lust for him. Even though he could hear you protesting feebly, your body was betraying your true feelings, easily and eagerly taking him in.

“Sylus—!”

Sylus covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling the noises, but the feel of him still relentlessly thrusting in and out of you nevertheless had you helplessly moaning into his hand, your eyes looking up at him with tears brimming in the corners.

“Careful, sweetie,” he chided, smirking, “Wouldn’t want your neighbors to know what we’re doing, right?”

You moaned into his hand again, the feeling of him pounding into you had robbed you of all other coherent thoughts or even any feeling of modesty, your only focus in this moment was on him, the way he spoke, and the lewd noises of him fucking you. You whimpered and gasped when he removed his hand, but just as quickly your sounds were swallowed by his mouth as he greedily devoured your cries. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected the two of you. He gazed at you haughtily, completely obsessed by the dazed look you gave him.

He chuckled darkly, his hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing you. “Then again,” he murmured, eyes twinkling mischievously, “I don’t particularly care if anyone hears us.”

He kissed you again. “Going to give me an heir?” he murmured, his tone holding shades of a light tease.

You tried to glare at him, but he laughed it off. “You are insufferable,” you griped, but almost immediately after you said that, he purposefully thrusted in harder, watching with amusement when your eyes rolled to the back of your head again, your pleased moans countering your earlier annoyed tone.

“What was that, sweetie?” he teased.

“Sylus…” you whined and gripped his arm pleadingly, “I can’t take this anymore—how—oh, god—how much longer?”

His eyes darkened, taking in the sight of you shaking with pleasure beneath him. He had been pushing you to your limits, taking you whenever he could, as often as he could. His own breathing grew shakier, his thoughts wandering, his eyes glazing with desire.

Not until it’s confirmed.

Not until…you’re round and heavy with my child…

I need to keep breeding you…until you’re pregnant…

Gonna fill you up, knock you up…

Need to see you swell…make you mine…gonna fuck my child into you—

“Fuck—” The thought of you carrying his baby had him coming quicker than either of you expected, and you whined at the feeling of how full he was making you feel. It was too much, and yet, your own body wanted more, wanted to milk him until he was empty, until his seed flooded your womb completely.

“Sylus…!”

“Fuck, sweetie,” he panted, his large body hovered closely over yours, only held up by his forearms as he stared into your eyes as he emptied himself into you. He kissed you roughly, his frenzied words coming out in between sharp gasps of breath, “You’re going to look so fucking pretty with my baby in you. Won’t be able to keep my hands off of you—gonna feel you up, fuck you again and again—oh, sweetie…”

You whimpered against his kisses, his dizzying words making the blood rushed straight to your head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him tightly as you felt his body relaxing against yours. “Sylus…I feel so…full…”

He groaned as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt him nibbling on your skin, felt all of his body heat against yours as you both slowly settled down from your shared euphoria.

For the next few minutes, neither of you spoke, the only sound heard in your bedroom was the two of you steadying your breathing. Then, you heard Sylus speaking up: “Let’s rest for a bit,” he said, pulling out of you and laying facedown next to you, his arms slung protectively over your stomach. He peered at you with a weary smirk, saying, “We’ll continue again later…”

“What? Again?” You startled at his words, eyes widening in shock as you exclaimed, “We’ve already done it three times tonight!”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I have a big appetite—in more ways than one.”

He hungrily kissed you, your small face held in his large hands, his touch gentle, but his kisses were ravenous. He parted, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but his words did nothing to calm your racing heart: “And when it comes to you,” he husked, “my craving is never satisfied.”

“I can never face my neighbors again…”

“Good. You should come live with me in the N109 Zone anyway.”

“You can at least pretend to sympathize with me for one minute.”

“I wouldn’t know how. Being empathetic is not in my nature, sweetie.”

For the next few weeks, you fell into a strange routine. If you weren’t in Sylus’ bed, then he was in yours, and while you would often protest against his enthusiastic advances, eventually you would always succumb to your desires, letting him have his ways with you to his heart’s content.

With so much going on, you didn’t notice the telling signs at first.

Fatigue? Work had been hectic lately.

Nausea? There had been a bug going around the city.

Tender breasts? Perhaps you were about to have your period.

Except…that was when you realized your period never arriving. You went over the dates, checked the calendar three, four times, as you did the calculations in your head.

You were late.

Your heart sped up, hands already resting on your lower abdomen. Your nerves were in bundles, thoughts haywire.

You…might be…

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

With Sylus’ baby.

Several pregnancy tests later, you stared at the row of pregnancy tests on your bathroom counter neatly lined up with identical results: Positive. You were pregnant.

You sat down on the edge of your bathtub, hand once again feeling your flat belly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, so many questions weighing you down. You had, more or less, planned this, but now that it was a reality—now that you were pregnant with Sylus’ baby—you felt nervous.

You couldn’t even pinpoint the reason for your anxiety. It was just a combination of so many different things, and while you could just continue to sit and mull and worry on your own, you knew you would rather go see Sylus as soon as possible. Taking a look at the late time, you decided first thing tomorrow morning, you would head over to the N109 Zone and see Sylus.

For now, you hoped a warm shower could help calm your nerves enough for you to sleep through the night.

The following morning, you woke up early to do a few chores around the apartment before heading outside for a quick walk to clear your head. You walked around the block, silently rehearsing in your head the different ways you could make your announcement. The previous night, you had ended up staying up later than intended, browsing videos and social media posts about how other people had made their pregnancy announcements. While many of them were cute, some even ingenious, you felt they didn’t seem right for you and Sylus.

As you approached your apartment building again, still lost in thoughts, you heard a caw nearby and instantly frowned, mumbling to yourself, “Oh, no…”

After a quick scan of your surroundings, your eyes caught sight of the familiar metallic wings flapping overhead before a certain mechanical crow landed on a nearby tree to perch, his eyes staring straight in your direction. You gritted your teeth in annoyance before you calmed your breathing. You slowly exhaled, forced on a sweet smile, and then called out to the mechanical crow in a sing-song voice, “Oh, Mephie~ who’s a pretty birdie?”

Mephisto gave you an indignant caw, and you feigned hurt, pouting at him. “Oh, don’t be like that, Mephie,” you cooed, “We’re besties, remember?”

Mephisto shuffled on his perch, cocking his head at you in confusion.

“And as besties,” you continued, taking off your rings to dangle in front of the crow, “We should be nice to one another, right? Help each other out, even?”

You could have sworn you saw the gleam of interest in Mephisto’s eyes when he noticed the shiny rings you were waving at him. Gotcha, you thought, pleased that your plan was working out.

“These rings,” you said, holding them out in the palm of your hand, “for your silence on this matter.”

Mephisto looked up at you confused.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” you scolded the crow, folding your hand and gripping the rings tightly. “You are not telling Sylus about my pregnancy before me!”

You opened your hand again, holding up your bribe as offering. “Now, do we have a deal, Mephisto?”

You grinned when Mephisto eagerly and greedily seized the rings, giving you a nod before flying away with his new treasures.

You quickly headed inside to get changed. While Mephisto did seem to agree to your bribe, you still would rather head over to the N109 Zone as soon as possible to share the news with Sylus before any other mishaps could happen.

It was eight in the morning when you finally arrived at Onychinus’ base in the N109 Zone, an area constantly shrouded in darkness and where the entire concept of time felt utterly meaningless. It was also when Sylus would be asleep, seeing as his schedule and yours were polar opposite. Sylus tended to be in foul mood whenever he was woken up during his sleep, so you really should let him sleep for a bit longer. It almost didn’t seem right to wake him up so suddenly and, in according to his schedule, so early.

But then you remembered your recent bouts of morning sickness was all his fault, so you grinned and barged into his home loudly, startling Luke and Kieran who were lounging around in the dining area.

“Miss Hunter! What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Kieran rose from his seat in a chair while Luke remained seated on the table.

“Yeah, Boss is still asleep,” Luke added, “W-wait, where are you going?”

You grinned and ignored the twins who both gotten to their feet to trail after you nervously as you headed in the direction of Sylus’ bedroom.

“W-wait, Boss is going to be pissed if he’s woken up at this time!” Luke grabbed your arm to stop you, and you peered up at him with a startling sweet smile. Even with the mask covering his face, you could sense how nervous he was, whether it was because of the prospect of waking Sylus up or your frighteningly cheerful smile, you weren’t sure.

“It’s alright, you two,” you cooed, voice so saccharine it made them wonder what you were up to. You continued in a chipper voice, “He’s going to be thrilled by what I have to tell him.”

“Well,” Kieran started, scratching his head thoughtfully, “Miss Hunter does have him wrapped around her finger…”

“Right, Boss practically grovels at her feet—wait, don’t tell him I said that!”

By this point, you were already outside Sylus’ bedroom with the twins a good several feet away staring at you with mild horror. You quietly shooed them away and watched with a smile as they slunk back to the dining room while muttering among themselves. You couldn’t be bothered to care about what they could be whispering about.

You exhaled slowly, and then quietly opened the door, peering into the dark room with caution. Your eyes scanned the large bedroom, checking for any distractions, any oddities that could ruin this planned perfect moment.

“Good, Mephie is not in there,” you mumbled to yourself when you noticed the empty bird perch. You made a mental note to find something extra shiny for the mechanical bird for keeping his end of the deal. You continued your quiet surveillance, and when your eyes finally landed on the bed, you found Sylus asleep under the cover, seeing his chest rising and falling steadily.

You grinned.

As you tiptoed into the bedroom, you couldn’t help but noticed a large stray feather of Mephisto was laying on the floor. Your grin widened as you picked it up and made your way over to Sylus’ bed.

He was sound asleep.

He looked so peaceful, almost ethereal, even.

You smiled and leaned closer, using the feather to tickle his face.

Sylus stirred with an annoyed groan.

You quickly suppressed a giggle. Just as you were about to tickle his nose, Sylus opened his eyes and you startled from seeing his red irises so suddenly. Immediately, you let out a shriek when Sylus unexpectedly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into bed with him.

“You shouldn’t have snuck in here like this, sweetie,” he chided, holding you firmly to him.

You struggled in his embrace, but Sylus simply smirked, showing no sign of letting you go any time soon. “Who provoked who first?” he questioned arrogantly, giving your thigh a light smack.

You glared up at him, exclaiming, “Is that any way to treat the woman carrying your baby?”

He paused.

He stared.

And then he spoke—voice so rough, so dry.

“A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.”

He had unconsciously let you go, barely noticing when you knelt next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. You watched with delight, seeing the normally calm and haughty crime leader having a complete brain malfunction as he attempted to process your news, his eyes darting back and forth from your face and your stomach. Several emotions flashed across Sylus’ eyes ranging from confusion to surprise to shock before finally settling on joy—absolute, complete wholehearted joy.

You gasped when he pulled you into his firm embrace again, your face pressed to his chest as you felt his hands rubbing you up and down. You whined against him and he looked down at you completely delighted. His lips instantly pressed against yours, silencing your cries.

“We’re having a baby,” he murmured again, still not quite registering the words, finding them to sound so foreign on his tongue. “My god, we’re having a baby…”

“How many times are you going to say that?” You looked at him with a pout and he just grinned at you again.

“Until you give birth.”

You instantly blushed. “What are you saying—”

He sat back, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. You watched as his large hand lay over your still-flat belly curiously. He shook his head in disbelief, huffing quietly, “A baby. There’s a baby in there…”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled back, still finding the whole situation surreal as well. It was your body, but even you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that you were now carrying a new life inside you. Your eyes rested on your stomach. It was still so flat. How could a baby be growing in there? How could you get bigger?

You tilted your head a little, your questioning thoughts starting to drift to a new direction. You wondered when you would start showing. When would you start to feel the little kicks and movements? How big were you going to get? Were you having a boy or a girl? Would Sylus truly love you like this—

You teared up. Sylus immediately noticed and looked startled.

You started crying.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Sweetie, why are you crying? Why are you upset?”

You were immediately pulled into his embrace, his hand automatically rubbing the back of your head gently to soothe you as you cried against his chest. You heaved and sobbed against him as he mumbled comforting words, hoping they would calm you down.

“Did I do something?” he questioned softly, feeling helpless when he felt you shaking in his arms, unable to calm down or speak clearly.

You shook your head.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“N-no…” you mumbled feebly against his chest.

“Then why are you crying? Sweetie, talk to me…”

“I-I don’t know…”

Sylus peered down at your head and smiled gently. “I think a certain kitten is fibbing.”

“Quit it…”

“I will if she tells me why she’s crying.”

You grumbled against his chest, protesting quietly when he pulled you back to look at your reddened face and puffy eyes. He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your fresh tears as he shushed you gently. You sniffed.

“I’m going to get fat…”

Sylus looked confused.

And then he laughed.

“Ah, so is that why you are crying?” He chuckled, “Sweetheart, you are not going to get fat.”

“I’m going to gain weight!”

“For our baby,” he emphasized. “The baby is going to be growing inside you.”

“You’ll stop loving me…”

Sylus immediately frowned; his earlier mirth disappeared in that instance. His eyes narrowed in anger as he spoke coldly, “What did you say?”

You clammed up, unprepared for his entire demeanor change. You let out a shaky breath when Sylus grabbed your chin, gentle but firm, and held your gaze to him. His thumb brushed over your trembling lips as he spoke, his tone leaving no room for arguments, “I won’t ever stop loving you.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but the way he said those words so evenly, so softly and resolutely, they rang loud in the large room. Your heart pounded in your chest, his icy gaze on you rendered you speechless, making you forget about your earlier insecurities. He leaned his face closer to you, his lips just a breath away from yours. “If anything,” he continued, voice dropping lower, “I’ll love you even more.”

You whimpered when he captured your lips, his sweet kiss a binding seal for his ardent words. When he parted, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice still breathless and unyielding, “Don’t ever question my love for you again.”

Your eyes lowered, embarrassed by your earlier outburst. You nodded obediently.

The room was quiet as you and Sylus remained still, him waiting patiently for you to calm yourself. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks reddening as you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, your embarrassment growing stronger as you realized how silly and ridiculous you were being.

“Sylus?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m having mood swings already…”

“No kidding…”

“What did you say?!”

“My kitten,” he answered, kissing your forehead. He lay back down in bed, pulling you on top of him gently. Your head lifted, your protests dying instantly when you caught sight of his sweet expression, eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. Your heart instantly melted, any residual doubts lingering in your mind disappeared the moment you heard him sighing blissfully: “We’re having a baby…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let people know Onychinus’ leader is your baby daddy?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure-sure, or pregnancy-brain-I-might-change-my-mind-again-sure?”

“Sure-sure.”

“Positive?”

“Positive!”

“Really—”

“Sylus! Absolutely, positively, undoubtedly 100% sure!”

“Mood swing?”

“I will melt your vinyl collection.”

For the longest time, it seemed your belly continued to remain flat as a board, making even you yourself doubtful about whether or not you were truly pregnant. If it weren’t for that first ultrasound you got at your prenatal visit, you probably would have dismissed the whole thing as a false positive.

However, the moment you saw that small speck on the ultrasound photo, the moment you caught Sylus’ own surprised expression, you both knew that this was real. Your lives were changing in the most astoundingly beautiful way possible, and no matter how much you both may prep for the arrival of your bundle of joy, you knew nothing would ever be like before.

How wonderful, you thought.

One morning, early in your second trimester, you noticed a slight rounding in your middle after waking up. You cautiously touched it, startled by the feeling of the curve. You could have sworn that just eight hours earlier, you still had your flat stomach, but right now you could definitely see a distinct difference, see the way it was beginning to shape and fill out. You touched it more firmly, still unused to the surrealism of this moment.

“It’s…happening…” you muttered to yourself, still trying to come to terms with this reality. You startled again when you heard your phone ringing.

It was Sylus, wanting to video chat. You answered immediately.

“Good morning!” you greeted him.

“Morning,” he yawned back, and you realized it was probably his “night” time now. “I just wanted to check in on you before you went to work. How are you feeling?”

“Good!” you responded brightly. Possibly a little too brightly, because Sylus immediately raised a questioning brow.

“‘Good?’” he repeated, crossing his arms in confusion. “How’s your morning sickness?”

“Haven’t had any—yet,” you answered cautiously. Then you smiled brightly and adjusted the phone to show your midriff. You lifted your pajamas top excitedly, exclaiming, “But look! I’m starting to show!”

You had expected Sylus to be excited, but his expression and entire demeanor was a far cry from what you had anticipated the notorious Onychinus leader to have. He seemed upset, and you frowned, slowly pulling your top back down. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“Huh?” He didn’t seem to realize his expression was upsetting you. He sighed, and apologized immediately. “I am excited,” he clarified, though his tone suggested otherwise, “It’s just…”

“Just what?” you demanded, feeling hurt that his behavior was not like what you had expected.

“I want you here with me.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“You’re starting to show,” he continued, “and it made me realize I don’t want to miss another second of your pregnancy. I’m just…upset that I am not by your side right now, seeing your belly grow, feeling it, taking care of you…”

You could feel your cheeks warming because of his words.

“Come live with me?”

“But—”

Sylus sighed, already expecting the usual excuses: your job, your life, everything you loved was in bright, sunny Linkon City. Not the dark and dreary N109 Zone.

“But my plushies…”

Sylus blinked, confused.

“Sweetie, I have more than enough room here for your belongings.”

“My job—”

“Didn’t you say your captain was putting you on desk duty?” he interrupted you, smirking, “Surely the Hunters Association allows their employees���especially ones in their…delicate condition—the option to work remotely?”

“…”

“No more excuses?”

“Not at the moment…Give me a sec.”

Sylus chuckled. “I’ll have Luke and Kieran make arrangements for your move.”

You gawked at him. “I never said yes!”

“Not explicitly,” he agreed and then tilted his head a little, smirking, “So explain to me why your eyes shined so brightly when I made my offer?”

You slumped in bed and stared at the phone—at Sylus’ insufferable smirk.

“Sweetheart…”

“I want you next to me, too,” you confessed as you looked down at the small bump forming. You tentatively touched it. “I want you with us.”

You looked up at the phone screen just in time to see Sylus had a quick intake of breath, his eyes had widened a fraction, easily missed by those with untrained eyes. Then, he shook his head, almost as if in disbelief by what he had heard. He chuckled to himself. “Sweetheart, I’ll see you in an hour.”

You looked confused. “I thought you were going to bed now?”

“How can I sleep after hearing you say something so adorable?”

You blushed, and tried to keep your voice and expression neutral. “Go to bed,” you said as sternly as possible in spite of Sylus’ amused smirk at your transparent attempt. “I’m getting ready to go to work.”

“Call out,” he demanded.

“No—”

“Fine,” he said, interrupting you to your confusion, “I’ll just show up to your workplace at the end of your work day.”

You stared at the phone, mouth agape. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you just make a threat?”

He shook his head, feigning hurt. “I am merely concerned for my pregnant girlfriend.”

“No,” you repeated firmly. “Do. Not. Come. To. My. Work. Place.”

“How mean,” he cooed mockingly, “You won’t allow me to see you, you won’t let people know I fathered your baby—”

“About that—”

He looked at you suspiciously. “What?”

“People kind of know…”

“I don’t understand,” he said, frowning. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. “You said you didn’t want people to know the leader of Onychinus knocked you up.”

“Well, yes—and they still don’t know that.” You bit your bottom lip nervously, flinching a little when Sylus questioned you again impatiently. “I couldn’t just not give them a name—Tara was so excited about the news and well—”

“Well, what?”

“I said Skye fathered my baby.”

“Who’s Skye—you did what?” Sylus paused, remembering. And then he laughed. “I see, so ‘Skye’ is your baby daddy then.”

The minute Sylus started smiling, you felt an uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of your belly. You knew it wasn’t your morning sickness making you feel queasy in that moment. The knot worsened when Sylus started chuckling. You flustered and asked, mildly annoyed, “Why are you laughing?”

“No particular reason,” he answered affably, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I can be okay with this. In fact—”

Sylus’ smile widened. “I won’t come see you after work today after all.”

You breathed out in relief, but that brief moment of serenity disappeared just as quickly the moment Sylus finished his thought:

“‘Skye’ will pick you up today after work.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

“See you at five, sweetheart,” Sylus responded, smirking as he ended the call and you were left staring at your bewildered reflection in the darkened phone screen.

“Well, Baby,” You started, staring down at your small bump. You gently placed a hand over it, giving it a tentative rub. “Your daddy can be an ass sometimes…”

“You actually brought your plushies.”

“You said you have room for them.”

“I do, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t remember getting Bunbun, Artsy Birb, or Happy Snowman with you…”

“…don’t worry about them.”

Before you knew it, you began calling Onychinus’ base your home. Not a second home, not a temporary home, but home. There were days you would wake up feeling disoriented, still not quite used to the N109 Zone’s seemingly eternal darkness. There were also many mornings you would find yourself missing and yearning for the sunlight in Linkon City, but those feelings of longing disappeared the moment you felt Sylus’ arm wrapped around your waist, feeling your growing belly and hearing his soft breathing so close to you.

Your eyes fluttered opened one particular day—or, perhaps, it was night, you weren’t quite sure yet—and you felt a familiar warmth behind you. You looked down and saw a large hand covering your growing bump.

You smiled.

Your belly had grown steadily these past few weeks, becoming more and more prominent each day, and while it seemed big to you, it still looked quite small when Sylus touched it. You stared at his large hand nearly covering your entire middle, and you swallowed nervously, realizing you still had several more months of your pregnancy. Plenty of time for your baby to grow bigger.

Much bigger.

You felt nervous.

And scared.

You started to cry.

Sylus immediately woke up when he sensed the sudden shift in your emotions.

“Sweetie?” He was immediately alert, sitting up and pulling you closer to him as he examined you all over looking for anything that could be causing you discomfort or distress. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“How am I supposed to have your big babies?!”

Sylus looked floored.

“…excuse me?”

You continued crying hysterically. “How am I supposed to push out your big babies?!”

Sylus blinked, still not quite following your train of thought. He knew your hormones had been fluctuating all over the place, but even that did not prepare him for this conversation. He rubbed his forehead, half-wondering if he was still asleep and dreaming this whole ridiculous situation. He sighed when you continued to hysterically ramble:

“What was I thinking letting you knock me up with your big babies? Fuck, I wasn’t thinking—I was just a horny little slut! And now I have your big baby inside me! How am I expected to push out a baby that size? Oh, god, what if I can’t—Sylus, stop laughing at me!”

Sylus was leaning against the headboard, his whole body shaking in amusement as he watched you spiral. He chuckled when you attempted to punch his shoulder, but his quick reflex easily allowed him to grab your wrist gently before pulling you into his embrace. He hummed happily when he felt your small bump pressed against his stomach.

“Sweetheart, you are worrying over nothing…”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not gonna be pushing something out of your—"

He kissed your lips, silencing you immediately. “It will be fine,” he reassured you, “Your body was made for this.”

“…for average sized baby…not what you’ve given me…”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, half-amused, half-confused. “I might regret asking this,” he said, giving your cheek a teasing pinch to your annoyance, “but what makes you so certain the baby is going to be abnormally big?”

“Look at you!”

He shrugged, still not quite following your train of thought.

“Sylus!”

“Look,” he started while stroking your head soothingly, his voice gentle, “The doctor said you are meeting all of the expected weight gain on time. Not under, and not over.”

You continued to sulk.

“The baby is growing at a perfectly normal rate.”

“But what if—"

He sighed. “I know all of this is scary right now—” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “And I—I can’t truly fathom your anxiety. You’re scared and I wish I can make you feel better—”

You looked up curiously.

He smiled and rubbed your cheek where he had previously pinched tenderly. “I am so bad at this…”

You stared at Sylus’ helpless smile and you felt a warmth spreading in your chest. This big intimidating man with such an imposing aura, such unfathomable confidence and charisma was rendered helpless and lost by you. You felt oddly touched by this. Your smaller hands grabbed his, holding it close to your cheek and you smiled at Sylus, surprising him.

“I might have overreacted,” you admitted sheepishly, adding, “I’m feeling better now, Sylus…”

He furrowed his brows. “Are you sure?”

You nodded and kissed his palm, your hand caressing his. “I’m still nervous,” you admitted, and Sylus’ expression softened, “But…I feel safe with you…”

He smiled and gathered you into his lap, holding you securely to him. He nuzzled his cheek against your head. “I wish I could take away all of your worries,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to lie to you or make promises I can’t keep…”

He kissed you sweetly, his voice still soft and gentle, “I can only promise that I will stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me…”

His hand lowered, feeling your belly, feeling the life the two of you had made together. “As long as you’ll both have me.”

You smiled at him, eyes brimming with tears.

He wiped the corners of your eyes, tsking softly. “Now,” he continued, his tone lightening, “Any other worries I need to quell tonight?”

You stilled, looking deep in thought. Sylus was only teasing, but he grew concerned when you seemed to ponder his inquiry seriously. He tilted your chin up, your gaze meeting his. He asked, “What is it?”

“Do…do you think I’m still…pretty?”

He blinked, and then he shook his head, amused. “Is that even a question?”

You looked at him sullenly. “Don’t patronize me…I’m serious.”

“Very pretty,” he murmured, grabbing your face, his lips pressed roughly against yours. You gasped and panted, not expecting the fierce kisses from him. His hand rested behind your head, your hair roughly tangled in between his long, slender fingers as he spoke deeply, a faint growl heard in the back of his throat, “So fucking pretty.”

You whined against his lips, and Sylus chuckled as he continued to mumble in between his relentless kisses, “My pretty, knocked up hunter, all round and swollen with my baby, so cute and needy—fuck, I can’t get enough of you…”

“Sylus…” You panted, feeling your body warming up as you listened to his voice, hearing that sinful rasp full of desire for you. You unconsciously rubbed yourself against his thigh and Sylus hissed, grabbing your hips.

“Sweetie…what are you doing?”

You blushed. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

He looked at you knowingly. He gripped your hips tighter, smirking. “You’re really testing my restraint right now…”

You looked at him expectantly, biting your bottom lip. He groaned at the sight.

“Sweetie, my self-control can only go so far…”

“What if…” you looked at him, eyes glazing with desire. “I say…I want you right now?”

“What?” Sylus looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to repeat your words. You felt your cheeks warming up under his intense gaze, but more than that, you also felt a burning inside you as you realize how much you missed and ached for his touch.

“What is this lewd expression you are giving me,” he murmured, tipping your chin up. He leaned down and planted kisses along your neck, nipping and sucking as his hands roamed down your body. You shivered against him as he spoke, “Are you…giving me permission, sweetie?”

“…Yes.”

That was all Sylus needed to hear.

His lips crashed upon yours again, hands fumbling with clothes, making quick work to discard them. Your needy gasps and moans mingled with his own impatient grunts and groans as you both gave in to the pleasure you had both abstained from these past few weeks.

“Sy—ohhh…”

Sylus had you on your side, your leg held up by him as he slid in slowly, his movements more careful than normal as he gauged your reaction, making sure to prioritize your comfort and wellbeing first. He placed a hand over your belly, cradling it possessively. “Who put this baby in you?” he demanded, the rasp in his voice noticeable, making you throbbed inside.

“Y-you, Sylus!”

He kissed your neck. “That’s right,” he murmured, nipping at your skin and leaving his marks, “It’s my child growing inside you, my child in your womb.”

You shivered against him.

“Sylus…more…please…”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes!”

He smirked at your eager, impatient response. His face buried into your neck, his voice husky with desire, “It looks like it’s going to be a long night…”

“I can’t be around Luke and Kieran anymore.”

“Are they bullying you, sweetie? Just bully them right back, you have my permission.”

“That’s not what I meant—never mind. I just…feel like they know what we did…”

“Did they say something?”

“No, it’s the way they looked at me…”

“…they wear masks all the time. How can you tell?”

“I just know.”

“Sweetie…”

“Don’t you dare say I am being hormonal again!”

“…”

Ping!

“Sylus, what the hell?! Did you just text an emoji to me?!”

“I did as you said. I did not say you were hormonal.”

“You texted me the ‘pondering’ Grumpy Crow emoji!”

“It could mean anything.”

Ping!

“…Really, sweetie? The ‘annoyed’ Grumpy Crow emoji?”

“It could mean anything.”

You should have known that Sylus would be prepared for your pregnancy cravings, although, you couldn’t help but felt that he had taken things too far.

“Um…” Luke opened the fridge and stared inside for a moment before closing the door. He turned and stared at you from behind his mask. “Is Miss Hunter craving yogurt?”

“What?” You paused in your work and looked up from your laptop confused. “What are you talking about—”

Luke opened the fridge door again, giving you a grand view of the assorted brands and flavors of yogurt that filled the fridge in every conceivable spot possible.

“I—” you stared, mouth agape, “I simply said yesterday, ‘yogurt sounds tasty right now’!”

Kieran strolled over and opened the freezer door and you all stared awkwardly at the containers after containers of frozen yogurt that also lined the shelves.

“At least he is attentive,” Kieran responded pleasantly while you sat there unsure if you should feel happy or exasperated by Sylus’ gesture.

“Let’s see,” Luke started, pointing at each container as he listed the different types, “You have the regular yogurt, Greek yogurt, French-style, organic, dairy-free, low-fat, probiotic—”

“You also have plain yogurt,” Kieran cheerfully chimed in, adding, “Vanilla, strawberry, peach, raspberry, cherry, mango, coconut, pomegranate…”

“Key lime pie, strawberry-banana, chocolate, cookies ‘n’ cream, mixed berry, orange crème…”

“It’s the salad dressing incident all over again…” you bemoaned, earning absolutely no empathy from the two men in the room, who seemed to be delighted by this odd situation.

“Maybe next time you should be more specific,” Luke said unhelpfully, earning instantly a glare from you. He held up his hands in defense and shrugged. “Say, Miss Hunter, can I have one of the—”

“Be my guest,” you said, sighing when Luke happened to grab the vanilla yogurt that came with crushed chocolate cookies to sprinkle on top.

“Wait, does Miss Hunter even have any cravings right now?” Kieran pondered aloud.

Sex, your mind unhelpfully answered for you before you shooed that traitorous thought away. You forced a pleasant smile on your face and shook your head as you rubbed your growing belly. “Not really. This little one doesn’t seem to mind what I eat.”

“Huh,” Luke said as he stirred the cookies into his yogurt. “No wonder Boss is desperate to find anything to buy for you…”

Kieran nodded in agreement with his brother, adding, “He must really want the whole pregnancy experience with you…”

“Is that so?” You couldn’t help but feel touched by Sylus’ gesture now.

“Maybe you should make something up,” Luke suggested.

You rolled your eyes. “Be for real, you two. I am not going to make up some cravings when I don’t have any just so Sylus can—”

“How about pickles and hot chili-lime tortilla chips?” Kieran suggested, looking up from his phone.

“What are you—actually, that does sound good…”

“What sounds good?” Sylus walked into the kitchen, interrupting your conversation. You glared at Luke and Kieran into keeping their silence, and the two nodded reluctantly.

“Never mind that,” you said, standing up with Sylus’ help, “Are you ready to go to Linkon City?”

Sylus sighed. “The doctors in the N109 Zone are just as good. Hell, I can even get you your own personal doctors to come to our home—”

“Sylus, I want to go to Linkon City. Please?”

One look at your pouting lips had Sylus yielding to you immediately. He sighed again and shook his head in defeat, “Fine, fine, whatever you like, sweetie.”

As you and Sylus started to leave the kitchen, Luke piped up, “Hey, Boss, do we have any yogurt around here?”

You shot Luke the dirtiest look you could muster, making a mental note to get back at him again for his comment.

It was a girl.

It was going to be a girl.

Any worries that Sylus would be disappointed in the gender immediately left your brain the moment you caught sight of his awestruck stare as he gazed at the monitor where you both watched the baby make little movements.

The doctor left the two of you alone to gather your thoughts, to bask in this private joyous moment. The moment the door closed and you two were truly left alone, you both let out the breath you were holding in.

Sylus was the first to speak, his voice more surprised than you had ever heard from the usual confidant man: “We’re having a girl…”

Your heart skipped a beat. It seemed each day, everything felt more real than the last. You knew you were having a baby, of course, but now that you knew it was going to be a girl…you felt so many conflicting emotions coursing through yourself: joy, worry, fear, doubts.

But when you looked upon Sylus, any insecurities you felt disappeared instantly, because you knew he would never leave you to handle things alone. If anything, you knew he would shoulder all of the hardship if he could just so you would never have to suffer for a second in your life.

“Sweetie…”

You gazed into his crimson eyes the moment you felt his hand on your cheek.

“Thank you…”

You blinked in confusion, but he never elaborated further. Instead, you felt his lips on yours, his touch more tender, more protective. As you parted, you saw his eyes drifted from the monitor to your belly, his expression was so tender and heartfelt.

You smiled when you realized you were no longer the only girl in Sylus’ heart.

Bright red eyes. Long, straight nose. Full lips.

“Are you not hungry tonight, sweetie?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes,” Sylus said, frowning, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Uh, no…” you responded, blushing in embarrassment.

“Then what’s wrong? Is the food not to your liking? Do you want to order something else?”

“N-no,” you answered, stopping Sylus from calling the waiter over. Your blush seemed to deepen even more, embarrassed for so many different reasons now. “It’s fine. The food is yummy. Look, I’m eating!”

You took a bite of the roasted chicken on your plate to prove a point. Sylus didn’t look satisfied, so you sighed in defeat and placed your fork and knife down. You breathed in slowly, preparing yourself for your little confession. “Alright…just…don’t laugh at me…”

He huffed in amusement at your preface.

“I just said don’t laugh at me!” you looked up, glaring at him.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded good-naturedly, “So what’s wrong?”

“I was…imagining…”

“Imagining?”

You blushed.

“Imagining what?” Sylus questioned, furrowing his brows as he leaned forward, reaching across the table to grab your chin, turning you to face him. “Answer me.”

“Just…what…the baby will look like…with your features…”

He blinked in surprise, letting go of your chin. He leaned back in his seat, chuckling in amusement.

“You’re laughing at me again!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he objected. He leaned forward again, his left elbow propped on the table, his chin cradled in his hand as he smiled smugly at you. “You’re just so cute.”

If it was possible, your blush probably deepened to another shade. You tried to focus on your dinner, but this time you could feel Sylus’ eyes watching you intensely. You could practically feel your heart pumping fast and hard in your chest. You startled when you heard him speaking again:

“But shouldn’t the baby also have your features as well, sweetie?”

“Well…probably,” you answered.

“I think she’ll look much prettier if she looks like her mommy.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s factual,” he countered with a grin. “And her mommy is very pretty.”

You quietly ate your dinner, pretending you didn’t hear him, though inside you felt delighted by his praises. Sylus continued to watch you eat, amused by your transparent act. He could practically see you brimming with joy at his compliments.

“Shall I order dessert?” he asked, already calling the waiter over. He didn’t even look at the menu, saying, “One of everything.”

You gaped. “We couldn’t possibly finish all of that!”

He shrugged. “We’ll take them to go then.”

“That—that’s not what I—” Your eyes widened as Sylus ignored your protests and gave the revised order to the waiter. “Sylus, that’s too much!”

He chuckled again. “Sweetie, you deserve to be pampered,” he said, “Let me lavish and spoil you during this special time.”

He reached across the table again, wiping your lips with his thumb. You heart skipped a beat as you watched him licked his thumb clean. “Besides,” he started, gazing at you fondly, “You’re already giving me the greatest gift ever.”

“I still think you ordered too much.”

“Complain all you want you, sweetie, but when it’s 2 AM and you are craving a lemon-raspberry cheesecake, you will thank me.”

“But I haven’t had that many cravings during this pregnancy! I’m actually a little disappointed…”

“Shall we play the guessing game then?”

“No alcohol.”

“I obviously wasn’t going to suggest—stop glaring at me.”

Another wet dream.

Some women were exhausted. (You were exhausted.)

Some have weird food cravings. (You had a different craving.)

Some may even be emotional. (You were very, very emotional.)

But you.

Well…you…were having wet dreams and an out-of-control sex drive. (Fuck.)

You woke up one morning groaning in annoyance. You remembered bits and pieces of the lewd dream, enough that you were squirming now that you were awake, feeling frustrated in parts because one: you couldn’t finish the dream, and two: you really needed to finish…

You suddenly noticed Sylus was asleep in bed next to you. You briefly wondered why you didn’t notice him getting into bed earlier, but the thought quickly dashed away when your sex-crazed brain suddenly noted appreciatively that he had fallen asleep in his bathrobe again, the belt barely tied around his waist, exposing his toned torso to you.

A book was lying next to him, and his reading glasses were tilted on his face. You surmised he must have fallen asleep while reading earlier. A mischievous thought found its way into your head, and for a brief second, you contemplated, questioning your own motives.

Well, you were only going to help him take his glasses off. You didn’t want them to break. You were just being thoughtful. Truly.

You hauled yourself up, groaning at the increasing difficulty with each day that your belly grew. You steadied your hand over your bump, giving it a gentle rub before you crawled over and climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

Sylus was still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly.

You held back a moan when you realized he hadn’t put on any undergarment after his shower. What a sneaky bastard.

You leaned forward, touching the frame of his glasses. You hissed when you felt your round stomach pressed forward, touching his toned abdomen. The crisp scent of his body wash wafted in the air so close to your nose, making you just want to lean forward and inhale deeply.

You shook your head, chiding yourself silently before you quickly took his glasses off and placed them on the nightstand.

As you were about to climb off of him, you felt yourself brushing against him—against his bulge. You swallowed slowly, feeling a warmth spread in your core. You could practically feel yourself throbbing and aching inside.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Maybe you could be quick and…

You were just going to…

Sylus’ eyes shot opened when he felt a new weight on top of him. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of you on top of him, shamelessly grinding against him. His brain quickly caught up with the situation and he laughed, as he reached out to grab your hips, pulling you into his embrace.

“Well, good morning to you, too, sweetie,” he laughed, kissing your lips, “Is this how you’re going to wake me up from now on? Because I like it.”

You blushed in embarrassment. “I—I can explain.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Grinning, Sylus reached under your nightgown, cupping your sex and rubbing his hand against the fabric of your soaked panties, making you gasped and moaned loudly, the feel of him touching you was a welcoming friction. “Really?” he questioned, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You can explain why you’re so wet right now?”

“Sy-Sylus…” you practically whimpered his name, looking at him pleadingly. You were already suffering from your out-of-control hormones, and right now, that delightfully sinful and sultry voice of his was only making things worse.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he cooed, “Need to get yourself off on my cock?”

You really did whimper this time.

He looked amused as he undid the belt of his robe. You followed Sylus’ every movement, watching with rapt attention as he wrapped his hand around his magnificent cock and began stroking himself leisurely. His own eyes remained locked on you, relishing in the way you were reacting to him. You swallowed, feeling your insides pulsing, needing to be filled by him.

“Ride me,” he ordered. You shuddered at his tone, but you were also more than ready and willing to listen to him. He smirked as he helped you removed your drenched panties, amused by the needy state you were already in this early in the morning. He helped steadied you on top of him, helped you aligned yourself to him, and then in one fluid motion—

“Fuck…” Sylus threw his head back, groaning, as you eagerly sank down on his fat cock. He looked back at you, grinning at the sight of your aroused face taking him in so deeply. “If I’d known being pregnant would make you this insatiable, I would have knocked you up sooner, sweetie.”

You mewled happily when his large hand touched your round belly, rubbing it in slow circles.

“Look at you,” he crooned, leaning up and leading your lips to his. He nibbled on your bottom lip, his voice a soft murmur, “So sweet for me.”

You gasped as he reached out and pulled down the strap of your nightgown, exposing your breast. They had grown considerably throughout your pregnancy, the areolas had darkened, and your breasts felt very heavy with milk for the baby still in your womb. As you rode him, your breasts bounced heavily, the sight turning him on more and more.

You moaned as his hands groped you, his voice heavy with arousal, “Gonna keep you like this…”

You let out a shuddering gasp when he thrusted up, your hands instantly steadying yourself on his chest. You looked into his eyes as he rubbed your belly again.

“Sylus—”

You closed your eyes, gasping and panting as his mouth took in your sensitive nipple. A lick, a tease, and you could already feel it firming up as he sucked eagerly while his hands roamed your body, every touch of his making your skin burned hot. As the morning wore on, you couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be when your milk would come in and he would have a taste as well.

You couldn’t wait.

“For the last time, Sylus, we are not buying everything in the catalog!”

“Why not? I can afford it.”

“I know you can afford it, but I don’t need all of these items. The baby doesn’t need all of these items!”

“Sweetie, I am only making sure you and my daughter will want for nothing.”

“Thoughtful, if not ill-conceived.”

“How heartless. You do not appreciate my generosity enough.”

“I will once you explain the crow-themed nursery you had Luke and Kieran planning.”

“A compromise since you will not allow me to make a mechanical crow for her.”

“Incorrigible.”

Sylus had always loved spoiling you, be it with material items, praises, or his affections. It was his sole belief that you deserved to be lavished, to be gifted and spoiled with the luxuries of the world, and within the bedroom, he made sure you were worshiped in other ways. Your every whim was his to answer, and he did so willingly, devotedly, and ardently.

The bedroom lights dimmed, and a record played soft, sensual music in the room.

You found yourself standing bent over his bed, large belly hanging low as he approached you from behind. Large calloused hands held your widened hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and already drawing out your fluttering gasps as you trembled with anticipation, already shamelessly imagining that deliciously large, thick cock of his penetrating you so deeply, in ways no other man could ever compare.

He lifted your right leg, holding it higher at hip level to give him an even better access to your soaked pussy.

“You’re so beautiful…and all mine…”

You moaned into the mattress as you felt him easing in.

“Doing alright?” he questioned, showing a moment of hesitancy as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“Yes…yes…Sylus…more…”

He smirked and continued, filling you just the way you wanted.

“I just want to keep you like this…” he murmured, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than you.

Heavy with my child…

Want to keep you bred.

Knock you up over and over and over again…

“Oh, Sylus, you’re being so rough!”

He startled, snapping out of his thoughts. He slowed his movements before bending over and kissing your shoulder apologetically. “I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you…please?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “How can I resist my dear hunter’s sweet request?”

As he began moving again, your fingers curled around the bedsheets, little moans escaped. Unwittingly, you mumbled into the sheets, your words reaching his ears, “More…want…to give you more…”

“What?”

You whined when he stilled. “Sylus…please…”

“What were you…saying?”

Your hand reached around your large belly, rubbing it provocatively. Sylus felt like he had stopped breathing. The very suggestion, the mere idea that you were already hinting that you would let him impregnate you again made him more aroused than he already was.

Sylus breathed in sharply, fingers pressing deeper into your hips.

He smirked.

He drove into you, fast and unforgiving, panting hard with a pleased grin on his face as you buried your face into the mattress, fingers gripping the bedsheets tighter as you cried out his name again and again.

“Are you going to let me fuck you like this again?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Gonna let me put another baby in you after this one?”

“Yes, Sylus, yes!”

He groaned and buried himself deep inside you, his body loomed over yours, his sinfully deep voice close to your ear now. You shivered as he whispered into your ear, “Do you like being pregnant with my baby, sweetie?”

You moaned when his hand felt your large belly, rubbing it all over possessively.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…I love being pregnant with your baby!” you cried out, voice growing more desperate to his delight as you found yourself unable to stop the words from leaving your lips. “I want to have more of your babies, Sylus! Want to give you as many babies as you want—”

You screamed into the mattress as he picked up his pace again, taking you harder than before. Your tantalizing words seemed to only have spurred him on, his crimson eyes gleaming brightly while a smug smile graced his handsome face. You gasped and moaned, whimpering to him, “Ohhh…Sylus…! Gonna cum…ah…gonna cum, Sylus…!”

He groaned as he felt your walls tightened around him. He panted, his hands rubbing your hips soothingly as he husked, his own breathing uneven as he felt he was close to finishing as well, “C-cum for me, sweetie. Cum on my cock—”

He stilled, his head thrown back with a deep groan as he felt you coming undone, your euphoric cries music to his ears. With a few more hard, deep thrusts, his own climax came, and you felt him filling you with ropes after ropes of his cum. You felt so full.

He leaned over you, his body heavy on yours. You felt his warm kisses along your neck, his divinely rich voice so close to your ear. “You love being pregnant with my baby…you want more of my babies…”

“Uh huh…” you answered back breathlessly with a smile.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groaned at the sight of your suggestive, mischievous smile. “I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

He smirked and grabbed your chin, guiding your sweet lips to his. “When did I become so lucky?”

He pulled out with a groan, chuckling at the lewd sight of his cum dripping obscenely out of you and down your legs. He gathered you into his arms, smiling as you snuggled closer to him, tired but also immensely satisfied. You felt him laying you down in bed, settling in next to you and holding you close to his own body. Sylus watched over you as you rested next to him, his eyes fixated fondly on your sleepy face while his hand rubbed your belly soothingly to calm your restless baby in your womb.

“She’s moving so much tonight,” he murmured, bemused.

“Can you blame her?” you answered, eyes still closed, but your hand rested over Sylus’, guiding him to where you felt the most movements.

He chuckled. “Fair point,” he conceded. He leaned down and kissed your belly, whispering sweet words to your daughter, his voice holding so much love and devotion for the baby you two made together.

You opened your eyes, smiling at the sight of him caressing your belly adoringly. You had never thought there would be a moment like this in your life, never dared to dream of a love as sweet and pure as this. You wondered if you had traded all of the good luck in your lifetime for this man and the life you were both embarking on together.

“Do…do you want more?” you asked suddenly, voice tentative, almost fearful.

Sylus seemed to stop breathing for a moment.

“More…children,” you clarified.

He exhaled, and laughed. He settled more comfortably in bed, pulling you into his embrace, his hand already stroking your hair gently, already easing your worries. You relaxed under his tender ministration, eyes closing as you listened to his voice:

“Hearing the pitter-patters of little feet in this large house…why, that might be my new dream…”

You hummed in agreement before a yawn escaped. Sylus smiled.

“Shall I tell you a story, sweetie?”

“Mmhmm…”

“There once was a lonely old crow,” he began, gentle eyes gazing down at your sleepy face, “He lived only for himself…until he found a kitten…”

“A kitten?” you mumbled drowsily; eyes still closed. You yawned again and snuggled closer to Sylus. You sighed contentedly when you felt his hand stroking your head. His presence was so warm, so protective and loving, you felt like you could sleep and dream forever in his arms.

“A kitten,” Sylus repeated, continuing, “A kitten…he wanted to protect…and love…”

Sylus paused, hearing soft snoring. He looked down and saw that you had already fallen asleep. He stroked your hair, wrapping strands around his finger.

“They’ll live happily ever after together,” he promised.

Sylus had never cared for sunlight.

He had traversed in darkness and made himself ruler of a city shrouded in never-ending darkness. He lived within the shadows and only knew of this isolating world—of this existence.

Until he met you.

He had crossed over to your world, stepped into the light, into the warmth of the sun. Even though he still found the light unpleasant, he was willing to bear it all just to be near you. To see the joy on your face as you walked under the sun again after so long was a sight to see.

You always did make the sun more bearable, he thought, feeling your hand slipping out of his. You walked on unaware while Sylus fell behind, admiring the beauty in front of him.

Bathed in daylight, Sylus saw a blinding vision, a bright future with you in his life, by his side steadfastly. He knew he had stolen a piece of Heaven, already prepared and willing to pay the heavy price to keep what he had coveted.

“Will you be my wife?” he asked suddenly and you paused in your steps, realizing he had fallen behind. You turned and looked at him, cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pink, unsure if you had misheard him or not. “What did you say?”

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement at your coy look. He walked toward you slowly, but his long legs easily closed the distance between the two of you in no time. “Make an honest man out of me,” he said. Gentle crimson eyes peered down at you full of resolve and love. His hand caressed your cheek lightly, his voice soft and sultry, “Be my bride?”

“But…I’m pregnant,” you reminded him feebly, not noticing his confused look. You lowered your eyes to the ground, but truly all you could see was your large, round belly. It had been a while since you last saw your feet. You were all too aware of Sylus’ eyes on you, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you replayed his earnest words in your mind. You continued meekly, “I’ll look fat in a wedding gown…”

He laughed. Sylus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’re not fat,” he said sternly, “You’d look gorgeous even with this belly—why, I might enjoy it even more.”

You huffed doubtfully. You continued to avert gazes with him, but you could still feel the warmth of where his lips were on your cheek. Your heart continued to race and you could feel the baby in your belly growing more active, possibly sensing your tumultuous emotions. You unconsciously cradled your belly, rubbing soothing circles.

Sylus noticed and he smirked, tilting his head in amusement. He tipped your chin up, his lips mere centimeters from yours. “I want everyone to know that you and this baby are mine.”

“Sylus…”

“Sweetheart, it was always you,” he said, “There is no one else.”

He pecked your lips, so light and fleeting, you yearned for more. Your eyes rested on Sylus, his entire being engraved into your memories, into your heart, into your soul. When you looked into his beautiful eyes, you could see forever. There was only one answer you could give him.

“How about it?” he murmured, his deep voice was like honey to your ears, so sweet and sensual in the way he uttered just those three simple words. “Marry me?”

You smiled. “Guess this is forever…”

In mere seconds, you were enveloped in his warmth, his eyes seeing only you, only the life that was about to unfold.

“When did my luck change?” Sylus wondered aloud, stealing kisses after kisses from you.

When indeed…

The pieces of your lives fell into place, this picture of paradise becoming clearer with each passing moment. It was yours to keep, yours to hold.

How divine.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[nikholascrow]

some bitches have 50+ ao3 tabs open on their phones

(it’s me I’m some bitches)

[normalfrances]

Majima is Kiryus “boys night out” takes an unexpected turn when a VERY buzzed Kiryu tries to tell Majima how much he means to him and an equally buzzed Majima cannot accept this affection so he makes a completely natural and smooth escape （＾ν＾）

(Close ups and bonus doodle comics under the cut!! vv )

[schmidtsbimbo]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride

[gcballet]

Doctor Who as tweets/textposts pt.4

<- | DW | ->

[mythiearts]

Another patrochilles thingie (btw these don't have any plot other than they both happen in a "they avoid the trojan war" au)

This is at chirons cave now bcs yeah

We fought again, I was getting better he said, I told him he was lying, he said he wasn't, I knew he was, he sounded like a prince, we used daggers again, as we almost always did, it was an excuse to be so close to him, and an excuse to let me see him fight, he fixed my posture, his hands soft but sure, and then fixed it again, until I was doing it right, although he just ran at me instead of fighting, ran around me fast as I tried to hit him, he was too fast, it didn't bother me, I loved watching him, he let his guard down, with his speed it didn't matter, he looked glorious, the sunlight playing on his limbs as he ran away into the forest, I kept one dagger and dropped the other and ran after him, if I could just keep him in my sight I'd be doing great, I ran until I was sure I would drop, until the trees blended together and there was no time but my steps, I remembered that day, running up the road getting here, gods how long ago was that, it felt both a lifetime away and as if it had happened this morning, I kept running, "achilles" I called, barely above a whisper, somehow he heard me, he stopped and turned, I sat, almost falling, and lay down, he was winded, he looked tired, it was probably the first time I saw him like that. He ran towards me and sat down "patroclus" he said, then "I didn't realise you followed me" "I'd follow you anywhere" I told him, meaning it with all the energy i had left "I'm glad you called me back" he said, breaking the not-silence "me too" I said, attempting humour, my voice too weak to carry it. "Why did you run here anyways" I said, starting to gain my breath back "I don't know, I just wanted to run, I thought you would wait for me to get back" he replied, I knew he wasn't hiding something because he wasn't speaking like a Prince, I'd never tell him but he uses his prince's voice when he lies, most of the time anyways. I looked at him, admiring his features that had already gained energy again, he broke the eye contact that I didn't realise we had, I felt myself flush a deep red and saw a pinkish tint on his face, I tried to get up but my legs felt like they were made of paper. "I'm going to be sore tommorow" I said, forcing humour into my voice, "yeah" he said, looking somewhere just past me "what are you thinking about?" "Nothing", he said, sounding princely, "I can tell your lying" I said, teasingly, he blinked quickly and flushed red, I could hear him take a breath, then regain his composure "nothing I swear" "swear on what?" "You know i don't mean it like that, come on we should head back"

I have no clue horrid ideas come to me in the night

[pupkashi]

gojo isn’t a baby when he’s sick (shocker!)

a/n: just a little drabble I’ve had in my head for a while now :P i just think satoru is so thoughtful and amazing ok bye

masterlist

gojo takes colds like a champ. he doesn’t complain or writhe around in pain, on the verge of tears and begging for all your attention. instead he calls ijichi telling him he’s staying home and rolls back into bed, pulling the covers closer to his feverish body.

you’re awake minutes later, vision fuzzy and hair a mess as you reach over to hug your lover, fully expecting to end up grabbing cold sheets as usual. you almost jump out of your skin when you feel satoru’s warm body.

“angel you okay?” you whisper, worried as to why he wasn’t at jujutsu tech by now.

“sick” is all he says, sniffling a bit and turning around to face you, covering his mouth with the blanket, “took medicine already” his voice is muffled and you pout at him.

his face is flush from the fever you’re sure he has, strands of hair sticking to his forehead as you push his hair back, running your fingers through his hair. you motion for him to come closer, rolling your eyes playfully when he hesitates, worried about getting you sick.

“I’ll be fine, c’mere” you smile, holding him tightly when he finally gives in, relishing in your body heat.

the two of you doze off again, but by the time you wake up satoru is already out of bed. you can smell freshly made chicken soup as you get closer to the kitchen, finding satoru curled up in a blanket with an empty bowl on the coffee table.

it’s something that takes you by surprise, fully expecting him to follow his usual absurdly clingy and pouty routine dialed to 100. instead he’s incredibly self sufficient, taking his medicine and making his own food. he rarely complains to you, only telling you he feels like shit when you ask how he’s feeling.

satoru motions for you to join him on the couch, laying his head in your lap and closing his eyes when your fingers find his hair, playing with the soft snowy strands.

“y’know i expected you to be all clingy and helpless” you admit, smiling down at your lover, who by now is in and out of micro sleeps.

he hums a ‘nu uh’ pausing for a second before speaking up, “don’t wanna make myself your chore when i can take care of myself” he mumbles, “you’ve got ‘nough on your plate.”

his response takes you by surprise, a soft smile pairing your lips as your eyes soften at the man in your lap. how’d you get so lucky?

“thank you hun, but you aren’t a chore” you reassure him, fingertips softly tracing his jawline, then moving to trace down the slope of his nose. “i love taking care of you, angel boy.”

you can see his smile growing wider as you talked, dimples peeking out as his blue eyes fluttered open softly. satoru moves so he’s laying on his back, watching as you admire him, slowly scratching at his scalp once more.

“I’ll take care of you when i can” you whisper, brushing any stray strands of hair out of his eyes. it’s a small gesture, but it makes satoru’s heart leap out of his chest, body warm from both your love and the virus wreaking havoc on his immune system.

satoru takes your words lightly, he won’t cry and complain every three seconds because he’s sick. he’ll take his medicine and pout a bit, but he’ll never be too dramatic.

he will let you take care of him though, never saying no to your cuddles or soups, loving the way you fuss over him.

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls

[moonyflesh]

🐾 Cat Scratches - [James “Logan” Howlett x Reader]

WARNINGS: lots of fluff, brief mention of neck kisses, some suggestive comments but nothing past PG

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (Wolverine, MARVEL/X-MEN)

🐾 .*.. 🕯️

Logan laid comfortably on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your lower back and hips as he buried his face into your abdomen, the bare skin of your tummy visible just slightly underneath your sweater.

Lazily scrolling through your phone, splayed out across his bed with him on top of you, your fingers trailed over his upper shoulders, scratching the fabric of his white compression shirt, rubbing his sore muscles from a long day of training and battle practice.

As your fingers trailed upwards mindlessly on his back, your manicured nails finally reached the nape of his neck, teasing the edge of his hairline.

Scrolling down further through your instagram, you let out a soft sigh of content as your fingers finally buried into the hair on the back of his head, eliciting a low rumble from the back of his throat.

You perked up at this, glancing past the dimmed screen of your device, an eyebrow quirked upwards at his reaction.

“You alright, Lo?”

You muttered out, a small, curious smile tugging at your glossy lips, damp from your teeth gently biting at them out of unconscious habit.

“Mmmh,”

He responded in a low hum, leaning into your fingers as you smiled, a small, amused chuckle leaving your lips at his fingers that slid lower on your back, cupping the backs of your thighs with a slightly possessive grip.

You felt a soft, warm press of his chapped lips against your stomach, just above your panty line, and a small laugh left your lips as he buried his nose further into you, inhaling without hesitation. In response, your legs opened slightly underneath him, wrapping them around his broad midsection with a light squeeze.

Preferring the man in front of you opposed to the celebrities on your phone, you dropped it at your side, letting it become lost in the fluffy, unkept sheets next to your form as both your hands wrapped around his head, burying your fingers into his scalp.

A low, animalistic-like growl left his lips as you scratched through his hair, meeting the place behind his ears, where you knew he was most sensitive.

Tracing over the area where his jaw connected to his ear and neck, you let out a low hum in response, tilting your head propped up on one of his pillows to the side, your eyebrows knitting together lightly in curiosity at his pleasant reactions.

“Feels good, bub. Right- mmh. There.”

Your eyes narrowed at his borderline inappropriate hum, and you nodded, wordlessly continuing to scrape through his fluffy, unkept hair.

“I didn’t take you for a cat, Logan,” You teased quietly, a small vibration leaving your own form, similar to that of the buzz of an old stereo.

“Don’t mock me, sweetheart. Can’t help it,”

He shot back, his furry eyebrows knitting together as he finally shifted, pulling himself up further, allowing his face to move from your stomach to your collarbone, trying desperately not to go full deadweight on you, knowing he’d crush your frail form.

“Plus, ever since you got yer nails done-”

He didn’t finish his sentence as you raked through his head of hair once more, pushing his face into the warm skin of your exposed neck, muffling any protest from him.

“Stop talking, James. Sleep.”

You effectively hushed him, a small smile pulling at your face as he grumbled out something along the lines of ‘mm. Whatever,’ and ‘fine.’

You felt him pepper a few hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth teasingly biting down on your exposed shoulder, before lapping at the new mark with his tongue, admiring his work with your taste.

“G’night, bub.”

You smiled at his subtle acceptance to your demand, your fingers frozen in his fluffy hair and partially in his long side shaves, nodding.

“Goodnight, kitty.”

[etheries1015]

The moment Vil fell in love with you, was one of the most vulnerable moments he had ever experienced. It was something that had caught him completely unawares, and never thought he'd fall for someone, much less the prefect of ramshackle.

Spoilers for the end of book 6, if you have not gotten that far.

The ride back to NRC from the island of woe was an exhausting one, to say the least. Everyone was groaning in mild annoyance at Vils sobbing at his now olden state, a wrinkled face with sunken cheeks and grey hair...something he feared more than anything in the world. Nobody actually blamed him, though, for anybody else would react as strongly to see their youth stripped away without even the hint of getting back their original form. Ugly, old, and gross, are all words Vil would go on to describe himself. You felt pity for him of course, but you were just as exhausted as everyone else.

Vil watched you in surprise as you stood up in a sleepy haze, wobbling to the (now) old man and cupping his sunken cheeks into your lively hands.

"Vil," You said sternly, the suddenness of your actions causing him to bite back his sobs for merely a moment.

"What you did for us today," You said with confidence in your tired eyes, "Was the most heroic thing I have ever seen. That was the bravest, most selfless act you could have possibly done, and I truly admire you for it, Vil." Your stern eyes softened with a smile mixed with pity and admiration, unconciously stroking his cheek with your thumb in attempt to sooth his trembling figure.

"We will find a way to get your body back. I understand this is a lot, but you need to hold onto faith." Your hands squished his cheeks together in a teasing and playful manner, purposefully causing him unable to respond verbally. Vil simply nodded, and you continued with passion raising your tone of voice.

"Right now, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful person with the biggest heart of gold I've ever met." You leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, something that drew him back with widened eyes. "Now, you must be incredibly tired from all the fighting we did. Try and rest, okay? You need it." He wanted to tell himself you were simply feeding him words of comfort in order to cease his persistent whining, yet with such confidence dripping with every word and small gesture you had no reason for engaging in, that was how he knew you were genuine.

How could you be so willing to kiss him when he looks like...that? How can you call him beautiful when all he sees are wrinkled hands and spotty skin? The word "heroic" also stuck out to him. Years of being played the villain, always unable to make it to the end of a movie, being discarded as the "bad guy," yet here you were, calling him...your hero. His heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. There's no way you of all people could make him feel so...conflicted.

Yet there you were, with stringy sweaty hair, scratches, bruises, mud riddling your skin from hours of fighting for the world. He noticed how his dorm outfit lay in tatters on your body, and bags under your eyes were apparent as you so shamelessly yawned and sat next to him, falling asleep as you leaned up against his shoulder. This was the brazen prefect of Ramshackle- someone with flaws, attitude, and a disastrous display.

Yet at this moment, all he could think about was just how beautiful you looked, too.

[blackseafoam]

Exit, pursued by bounty hunters

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)