#she has SUCH a twinkle in her eye 🥰

[dee-writes-anime]

Hello ! How you doing ?

I noticed that your requests are open, so i'm gonna yap about my favorite Winged Hero: Keigo !

I always think about reader being in a relationship with Hawks, but she feels like she doesn't really belong with him. He is famous, popular and very loved by his fans, meanwhile she likes to live a calm life, only talking and getting involved if someone reaches for her first.

Reader intends to break up with him, but his bird brain got a different message about it: he thinks she just needs more attention and more courting gifts.

So now reader has a collection of shiny rocks, lots of scented blankets and shirts, and a nonstop whistling Keigo around her.

I just really love the idea of Hawks tagging himself as a No refund Partner 🤭

(Feel free to ignore this, if you don't like it. Sending you lots of love, your writting is amazing 🥰)

No Refunds!

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami i x Reader

SUMMARY You fear that Keigo's fast-paced life is too much for you and try to take a step back, but it doesn't seem to work out that well for you. It's just too bad Keigo doesn't believe in refunds.

CONTENT WARNINGS quiet reader, hawks being a literal bird

AUTHORS NOTE hope you all enjoy more of our feather-winged hero because, based on these requests, y'all can't seem to get enough of him!

You’d imagined this moment for weeks—a careful plan to untangle yourself from the wings of a man who seemed to live a world apart from your own. Keigo’s life was a loud one, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, bright interviews, fans hanging on his every word and movement. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he belonged somewhere out there, in the heart of the storm, while you were left holding onto calmness, craving quiet.

So you’d practiced your words, rehearsed in the mirror, hoping to explain it gently: Keigo, you’re amazing, but I don’t fit into this life. You deserve someone who can keep up, who thrives under a spotlight.

But as you sat across from him in the dimly lit corner of your apartment, watching him devour his meal with an unshakable confidence, all those carefully chosen phrases began to slip away. The man was impossible to ignore, so vividly alive in his unbridled energy, his mouth curling into a familiar, teasing grin every time he caught you looking. It was like trying to capture a gust of wind in your hand—the moment you thought you had him pinned, he shifted, always a step ahead, eyes twinkling with that irreverent humor that made your heart ache.

“Keigo, I just…” you began, feeling your courage falter under his steady gaze. He didn’t miss a beat, his fork pausing in midair as he gave you his full attention.

“Go on,” he said, his voice low but attentive, his eyes narrowing with a glint of curiosity that warned you he wasn’t going to let anything slide by unnoticed.

You took a breath, trying to anchor yourself. “I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong in your world,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air, and Keigo stared at you, unblinking, as if you’d just told him something in a language he didn’t quite understand. After a moment, he let out a soft chuckle, eyes shining with that familiar, playful disbelief. “You? Not belong with me?” He shook his head, leaning back in his seat with that cocky, amused grin that somehow melted the tension in the room. “I don’t buy that, not for a second.”

Your heart twisted painfully, but before you could explain, he shifted closer, closing the space between you with the effortless grace of a hawk zeroing in on its mark. He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm, a hint of softness underlying his typically mischievous gaze.

“Listen,” he said, his voice a soft murmur, “if you’re worried about keeping up with me, don’t be. You ground me, you know? Not everything has to be about the spotlight.” He leaned in, and his thumb brushed your cheek, a gentle, fleeting touch that left you breathless. “You’re my calm in all the chaos, you know that?”

Your resolve wavered, and all you could manage was a quiet nod before he kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. As he left that night, your mind kept replaying that look in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability that felt strangely out of place on him.

The next morning, you woke to find something glinting on your bedside table. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and there it was—a smooth, shining rock, no larger than your thumb, with flecks of gold swirling through its charcoal-gray surface. You reached for it slowly, as if it might vanish at any moment, the unexpected gift settling warm and solid in your palm.

A small folded note rested beside it, scrawled with Keigo’s messy handwriting: Something pretty, just like you! – K

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, though it came with a pang of sadness. So this was his response? He wasn’t angry or upset; instead, he left a little piece of beauty for you, something that made you feel strangely… cherished. As if he was whispering, See? You’re part of my world. I want you here.

If only he left it at that..

The next morning, as you opened your front door, you found a Hawks-branded bag stuffed with the coziest-looking items imaginable. Luxurious blankets, soft enough to melt in your fingers, with colors that reminded you of his wings—deep crimsons and warm golden yellows. There was a plush feather-shaped pillow tucked inside, soft and inviting, as if he’d tried to bottle the feeling of his own feathers just for you.

Another note, taped to the top of the bag: For when you want a cozy night in, courtesy of your favorite Winged Hero.

In a daze, you pulled the pillow out, feeling the way it seemed to form to your touch, soft and strangely comforting, like you were holding a part of him in your hands. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, though it was tinged with disbelief. Hawks, your Keigo, was attempting to make your space his nest—one soft corner at a time.

You weren’t sure what to think. The gifts kept coming, like waves lapping persistently at the shore, never once relenting. Soon, you had a growing collection of glimmering stones, each unique in color, shape, and size. Some had ribbons tied around them, others were polished to a glassy sheen. By the end of the week, you could open your own boutique: Hawks’ Feathered Finds.

It was almost funny, in a way, how Keigo’s gift ideas seemed to expand. If the shiny stones weren’t enough to convince you of his commitment, the silky blankets and cozy pillows that soon followed would certainly drive the point home.

But as much as the blankets were a nice touch, that wasn’t enough either. No, Keigo’s gifts evolved in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Not satisfied with just leaving inanimate reminders of himself, he began to bring his own shirts, freshly washed and scented with that clean, faintly spicy cologne that was unmistakably his. Each time he left one, it felt like he was marking his presence all over again. When you came home one day to find three different button-ups hanging over your chair, neatly folded with another note—“So you won’t miss me too much”—you realized how completely he’d misunderstood your meaning.

And it didn’t stop there.

You started hearing bird calls, from sharp whistles to melodic chirrups, each one distinct and practiced. They’d come at random times during your day, clear and unmistakable, carrying across rooftops or echoing down quiet streets. Keigo would appear out of nowhere with a casual “Hey,” as if he hadn’t just called you over like a sparrow to its nest. Once, you looked out the window and spotted him standing on the rooftop opposite yours, watching you with that familiar spark of mischief in his eyes as he gave a gentle coo that made your cheeks flush.

Then there was the food. Keigo made it a habit to bring takeout on the evenings he knew you were working late, showing up with your favorite dishes and a grin that always promised a good story to go along with them. He’d kick off his shoes like he’d lived there forever, settling in as if he belonged, yet somehow always a little hesitant. You could tell he was waiting, looking at you as if searching for any sign that his gifts were having an effect.

Finally, one evening after he’d tucked a particularly soft blanket around you with all the precision of a nesting bird, you couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly are you doing, Keigo?”

He looked up from where he’d just finished arranging the folds of the blanket on your couch, his feathers twitching at your question. “What do you mean?” he asked, his amber eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Keigo…” you said, trying to hold back a laugh as you gestured around your apartment, now cluttered with glistening stones, colorful feathers, and shirts that still carried his scent. “You’re… making a nest in my apartment.”

His wings fluttered, a small chuckle escaping as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess you could call it that.” He crossed over to where you sat, his gaze growing softer. “But I’m just making sure you know you’re not going anywhere.”

You shook your head, equal parts amused and bewildered. “I… I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Undeterred, Keigo leaned in, his head tilting down just slightly so his eyes met yours, the mischief in them mingling with something warmer, something that pulled at your heart. “Maybe not,” he murmured, his tone more serious than you’d ever heard. “But I don’t give up that easily. You don’t just get to decide you’re going to leave, y’know?”

A small pang tightened in your chest. How could someone like him, someone whose life glittered with fame and thrill, expect to keep someone like you by his side? Yet, looking into his eyes, you saw something deeper, even a little vulnerable, as his thumb traced soft circles over your hand.

“Keigo… I’m not…” you began, trying to find the words. “I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for this, like I don’t belong in this world of yours.”

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze gentle but unwavering. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, his wings rustling, “you’re not holding me back. You’re the calm in my storm. And I’m not about to let that slip away.” His hand tightened around yours just slightly. “Besides, I never heard any rule about ‘no refunds’ not applying to relationships. So guess what? You’re stuck with me.”

You looked around, taking in the stones, the blankets, the shirts—this strange, feathered haven he’d created around you, like a nest meant just for the two of you. You hadn’t realized you’d been dating an actual bird until now, and it hit you with a surprising warmth, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you did belong here after all.

TAGLIST:

@surielstea

[doppopoppo]

LaD Men and their Kids

Warnings: just a minor suggestive part in Sylus's

Just a random HC of what their first child would be and be like :) for funsies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xavier:

- a son, his precious twinkling star 🥹

- looks like Xavier, has UR personality

- either works with his baby boy to protect MC or competes with him to have UR attention, no in-between

- Jeremiah the babysitter

- Congrats, U have two golden retrievers now :)

- looks up to Xavier and trains young in fighting

- attempts to not spoil him, but ends up giving into his puppy dog eyes. Xavier now knows how you felt all those years he's given them to you lol

Zayne:

- Twin boys, his precious snowflakes. 🤗

- Both look like you, and he's very happy about that! Older son has your personality, while younger twin has Zaynes.

- Can see him encouraging them to dabble both in STEM and creative fields.

- Spoils them but to a healthy extent. Mainly through quality time. Gifts if he can't be there for a playdate.

- Ideal husband and definitely ideal father, the boys 100% loves him more 😭 .

- Tara usually babysits

Rafayel:

- fraternal twins!!! His precious pearls 🥺

- a good combination of you both! Has his hair color and eyes while everything else came from you

- loves both of them, but his younger daughter is definitely daddy's girl. While older son is mommy's boy

- dramatic af like him. Never a quiet household. I dun know if you're lucky or in a need of a vacation

- eager to find out if they're half human and half mermaid

- Thomas the babysitter

- has a whole art gallery show full of paintings of you and the babies

- spoiled brats just like the dad

Sylus:

- A GIRL! His new kitten 🥰 literally

- his white hair and your eyes

- spoiled spoiled spoiled spoiled

- DADDYS PRINCESS (you're his queen now dw, kitten) can't sing

- does whatever she wants to whoever she wants cuz her daddy can fight

- Mephisto, Luke and Kieran becomes her babysitters (the twins wish he had twins)

- you love how attentive of a dad he is, but lowkey get jealous cuz all that used to be just for you :( but daddy always makes it up :)

- made it clear she's marrying Sylus when she grows up

- into guns

- "sweetie what do you have there?"

- "a gun :D"

- "NO!"

[elixirfromthestars]

Hey Mel, I've been thinking about dad Bucky! Which one of your Bucky's do you think would be a girl dad?

Hello my lovely anon, do you understand how much I adore you for sending this in?? 😭🩷🩷 I want to give you the biggest hug because this immediately sparked something for me!! Please enjoy my moodboard and thoughts for my detective Bucky being a girl dad 🥹💖 And if you'd like to know more please let me know!! I had so much fun answering this!! 🥰

Contents -> detective bucky + lawyer reader, baby girl w/nickname Teddy 🥹🩷, mentions of life/work as a homicide detective, all the feels okay? like all of them

Detective!Bucky Barnes as a Girl Dad ���ྀི‎♡‧₊˚

Okay, so first of all, our precious Teddy was planned 100%. You’re one of the top prosecutors in New York, of course, your life is structured the most it can be and you knew you wanted to start a family with Bucky when the timing was right. Teddy came along after you were married and had moved into an apartment together. By this point, Bucky had moved up the ranks and passed his sergeant’s exam, allowing him more free time to be around and present.

When Teddy was born, best believe Bucky cried—you both did. She was just so cute and so tiny. You both marveled at how the two of you made someone so wonderful and so perfect. She looks like a mini version of you but with Bucky’s eyes and smile.

He honestly couldn’t wait to show her off to everyone. His desk at work is now covered in pictures of you and his baby girl. His lock screen? It’s a picture of you holding Teddy. You know that little pocket in a wallet where an ID should go? Yeah well, he has a polaroid picture of the three of you instead. He has those pictures there to remind him to be extra safe on the job since he now has you two waiting for him to come home safe and sound.

Teddy got her nickname not too long after she was born. She was a bit of a fussy baby and liked to cling to you or Bucky when she slept. With your careers, it wasn’t always possible to have Teddy with either of you 24/7. And then one day the teddy bear Bucky won you at the fair from your first date ended up in her crib. Teddy ended up keeping it close and hugging it the entire time she slept. Even as she started getting older, that bear went wherever she did. From the moment she fell in love with that bear, you decided everything Teddy owned had to be bear-themed.

All your friends and family love Teddy. Sam and Nat bicker all the time over who Teddy loves the most—Uncle Sam or Auntie Nat. You’d never tell them, but Teddy adores her Uncle Stevie the most. Whenever he visits, she won’t leave his arms which makes Bucky a little grumpy (which you always tease him over).

Bucky has always been protective of you (maybe sometimes a little overprotective) and that doesn’t change when Teddy comes along. If anything, he becomes even more protective of his girls—this man is a devoted husband and father. Dotting on you and Teddy whenever he gets the chance. Acts of service is 100% one of Bucky’s love languages and he’d do anything for you and Teddy. 

When the topic of daycare comes up, Bucky doesn’t want to hear it. He just can’t imagine anyone taking care of his baby girl better than you and him. No one else would take the time to cut Teddy’s food into the cutest of shapes—her favorite being stars, no one else would pick her up and play airplane with her when she gets fussy, no one else would sing twinkle twinkle little star with her for the millionth time just to see her happy, and there’s so much more others wouldn’t do for her that you and Bucky would. 

Daycare lasted a couple of days—Bucky just couldn’t do it. He was losing his mind wondering how she was doing. On the first drop off that man was damn near begging on his knees for you to change your mind. You were firm on your stance (neither of you could afford cutting back even more on work hours since you were saving up for a home). So as much as you hated being the one to do it, you had to be the one to put your foot down on the subject. That was until on what would be her last day at daycare, Teddy cried out Mommy with the utmost heartbroken voice as you were walking away and your heart just shattered. Needless to say, the daycare phase didn’t last long and instead you took the longer commute to drop off Teddy at Grandma Barnes’ brownstone. Bucky’s mom was over the moon at this decision because that woman adores her grandbaby. She spoils her rotten which sometimes backfires in the silliest of ways.

Being one of the top prosecutors in New York means you have many late nights. Bucky is always there to be supportive in any way he can be. Before Teddy, you used to work on cases together at home, but ever since she was born he has enforced a no work-at-home policy. He doesn’t want his baby girl hearing or witnessing anything from the homicide cases you and he work on. He wants to protect her from that world for as long as he can. 

Especially since he has worked on some cases that show him the worst of humanity. Now that he is a dad they hit him a little deeper. Whenever he works a case where a parent has lost their child, his chest feels tight the entire day and there’s a heaviness on his shoulders he can’t shake off. On those days he insists you two visit Teddy during your lunch break. And that night he holds Teddy just a little longer and a little tighter in his arms—like he’ll lose her if he lets go. After she falls asleep in his arms, he tucks her in her crib and goes looking for you. No matter what you’re doing Bucky coaxes you to drop everything and come to bed with him where he holds you just as tightly as you lay together. He promises over and over again that he’ll keep you and Teddy safe, whispered promises of how much he loves you both and how no harm will ever come to either of you between passionate kisses that seal the meaning of those promises into your very soul.

Bucky adores being a dad just as much as he adores being your husband. His life feels complete having you two in it and he'd be damned if he ever let anything or anyone ever jeopardize it (which in this line of work there have been a few close calls on both your ends that have tried, but those stories are for another day).

I honestly could go on and on all day over this, but for the sake of not going on for too long, I will end my little happy ramblings here 🥹🩷 Thank you again for sending in this request, I had so much fun with it!! 🩷🩷

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a cutie little barzal family moment because @youunravelme came to nyc and shared the headcanon with me 🥰

getting into the city looks a lot different with two kids, but you and mat love to do it as much as possible to expose talia and max to culture and make them comfortable with the city atmosphere

this trip in, a few weekends before christmas, is talia’s idea. she’s been begging to see the jellycat cafe at fao schwartz and finally mat has a saturday off that will work. so you bundle the kids up into the car and toss the stroller in last minute, packing snacks and toys in case the traffic is bad

the entire drive talia chatters about her jellycats, an obsession since nadia and mike had sent her the hockey puck one from canada. liana helps the collection by sending ones from london and even taking one on a “day in her life” and sending you the video to show talia.

luckily, you make it into the city pretty quickly, parking in an icon lot on 56th street and unloading. you strap max into the carrier on your chest, his sweet chubby cheeks squished against your chest and his eyes fluttering shut from the warmth and the car ride. if he naps, he naps. you’re not overly pressed about it

talia skips along at mat’s side, swinging his hand and chattering about her list for santa. mat’s face is in a broad smile, eyes twinkling as she chatters. you follow along behind them, pushing the stroller because you know talia’s going to get tired eventually and she’ll want to sit down. for now, the seat belongs to talia’s american girl doll and max’s diaper bag.

the weather is gorgeous, sunny and a little cold, but perfect for walking up 5th avenue and seeing the decorated windows. you snap a million pictures in front of the tree, swapping phones with another mother so she can take a picture of the four of you and you can take a picture of her family

“mommy, let’s do a selfie,” talia tugs at your sleeve and you and mat squat down to get your faces into frame. mat presses a sloppy kiss to talia’s cheek for one of the pictures and makes her squeal with a laugh

by the time you get to fao schwartz, mat starts to get concerned, brows furrowing when he sees the crowd control ropes and long lines. “this isn’t for the toy store, right?” he asks you in a low murmur.

“sorry, babe,” you pat his arm. “this is all for the cafe”

“oh god,” he groans, but rearranges his face into a smile when talia squeals with excitement and starts bouncing in place. “okay,” he mutters, “all for t, it’s all for t”

you get in line, max waking up and baby talking at you and talia at your side playing with her doll. after about fifteen minutes on line, your shoulders start to scream at you and you need to swap with mat so he can take max and the carrier on his chest. max is thrilled to be with his dada, slapping excited hands on mat’s cheeks and chin.

another half an hour on the line and you’re really regretting being the kinds of parents that will do anything for their kids. talia is fading and getting cranky, but you know if she misses the cafe, she’ll be furious, so you strap her into the stroller and tell mat you’re going for snacks and drinks.

talia ends up napping for a little bit while you find the nearest starbucks and get mat a black coffee, yourself a peppermint mocha, and talia a hot chocolate. she’s perked up when she gets her drink and cake pop and an hour and a half later, when you finally get into the cafe, she’s perked back up

it’s silly and if you didn’t have talia, you certainly wouldn’t have paid for it, but she loves the experience. being held on mat’s hip so she can see the worker put her stuffed pancake into the pan and then the special box, she beams hugely and makes sure max is looking too, telling him, “look, maxsy, it’s a pancake! like mommy makes, you like pancakes. and that’s your bagel - see?”

the bagel was your pick since it’s an exclusive to the nyc store. max can’t pick on his own so that’s your mother’s prerogative.

max giggles and taps at the glass, as excited as the six month old gets about anything.

on the way back to the car, talia keeps looking into the bag and sighing happily. “mommy, daddy, this is the bestest day ever!”

mat grins at you and you grin back, happy to have made another memory for her. and now you’re more excited than ever to bring her to the american girl cafe 🥰

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Fires of Fidelity”

Rhaenys Targaryen x Female Reader

wc : 4800+

cw : ambiguous relationships // description of violence which i wouldn’t call graphic but it depends i guess // there’s smut towards the end, also not very explicit but then again, it depends :’)) // i am OBSESSED with her hair, so it would only make sense that my reader is also obsessed

rook’s rest doesn’t exist for me 🥰 fuck rook’s rest, and happiest of birthdays to my absolute badass of a queen 🥳🎂 but fuck her too (affectionate)

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The market is teeming with hustle and bustle of common folks. A cacophony of vendors shouting and shoppers strolling around, alongside an undertone of your lady’s heeled boots kissing gravel throbs inside your ears, softened only by the cloak that you are currently shrouded under.

Overhead, clouds hang heavy, a grim portrait of gloomy greys and ivory whites, the sun but a vague presence in the silver-lined edges. No shadows paint the ground aside from you who is hot on your lady’s heels. Everywhere she walks, you follow, akin to a shadow perpetually casted on the ground.

Meanwhile, a few children scamper around you, shouting, laughing, and one comes astray, collides with your lady before she continues scurrying on her jolly little way, blissfully unaware. The sudden jostle has the precarious effect on the body in front of you for you notice the break in rhythm of the feet that are taking graceful steps. All at once, you are directly behind her, the gentle sway of her body braced by a stable palm across her back.

“Careful, Prin-” Eyes, a milky-way of green and brown, render you quiet. You are, after all, accompanying your Princess on her covert little trip to town.

Nevertheless, a token of her gratitude follows in the form of the tiniest hint of a smile that beautifully graces her features. Disguised beneath the cloak though her head is, given the close proximity of your bodies, you are granted an audience with wisps of moon-kissed locks caressing the delicate plane of her forehead.

“Walk next to me.” She says, and donning a playful smile, you drop a whisper directly into her ears. “As my lady commands.”

Aloofness shrouds her mien, lips a firm line, although it is not lost on you that there is a twinkle in her eyes, the cause of which dawns on you as soon as a sly hand disappears into the privacy of your cloak. Two of her digits waste no time in pinching your flesh through the fabric of your cloth. Pain blossoms, bringing with it a small wince to your face.

When her fingers remain unrelenting, a grumble flies past your lips, “I jest. I jest.” And only then does she relent with a hum, feet never faltering as you walk abreast, her body the very picture of cool and collected save a smile touching her lips.

“I have promised gifts for my granddaughters. What do you think would delight them?”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m the worst person you could have turned to for such suggestions.”

“Indulge me, then. Go on.”

Ever the woman of queenly manner, even her cadence oozes charisma. It colours your cheeks rosy, bringing forth memories from which the delightful utterance has graced your ears under more intimate circumstances.

“I don’t know.” You begin by clearing your throat, a shrug on your shoulders as you walk. “Perhaps a kiss on their cheeks would suffice? I know for a fact that it would delight me greatly.”

Being both a Princess and a Dragonrider, your lady looks every bit the epitome of poise and gravitas. Seldom does she wear her emotions on her face, head held high and spine ram-rod straight, always an enchanting enigma except to trained eyes which, as a matter of fact, are few and far between, although an aura of authority is effortlessly, perpetually crowned on her Targaryen head. However, having spent a better part of your years by her side, during formal as well as more personal occasions, you have mastered the art of unravelling the subtleties of her features and nuances of her words.

It is how you find yourself now, raising a hand in faux surrender along with a defensive arm across your waist by merely a slight tilt of her head and a gaze to your face.

“Again, I jest.”

In the vicinity of the place where you currently stand, a ruckus suddenly arises, a heated argument between two vendors, it appears, which quickly fans the flames of a full-blown uproar. A crack of thunder is a prelude to the heavy drizzle that descends upon the crowd as fists are thrown, and like a carcass attracting vultures, the fight lures those who have an innate thirst for violence.

While the chaos unfolds, your sole focus is solemnly fixed on the Princess by your side, all the more so because a plethora of people are darting around in panic. You do not know, have no time to seek what your lady’s wishes are as instinct forces you to act. Taking her waist in your arm, you tuck her body into a nook as delicately as possible.

A desperate attempt on your part to narrowly escape the wagon that whizzes past leaves your bodies fitted together, your lady’s back pressed against the wall with your hand behind her head softening the impact. Her breath caresses your face, and the perfumed air is tentalising, fruity with sweet floral notes alongside something that is entirely her.

Meanwhile, the downpour has become more merciless, and you commit to memory the way raindrops cling to her lashes like tiny diamonds.

“Have anyone ever told you that you have such beautiful eyelashes, Princess?”

An arch of an eyebrow accompanies the dainty little rain-soaked lips as they curve into a dizzying smile.

“Evidently, I have.”

“So it seems.” You chuckle, step away, although not before you have adjusted her cloak in such a way that it will offer her face more protection against the rain. “I’m afraid you’ll have to cut your trip short, my lady.”

“It would appear so.”

“Shall we return to the castle then?”

Rivulets of rain travel down your cheeks, and your lady invites herself into your space, mirroring your movement from a while ago as fingers fix the hood on your head, supple in their movements.

“Yes, let’s return home.”

Home.

Home to you is not a place, but rather, a person. A person to whom you have sworn loyalty, to protect, to kill for, and should the need arise, to give your life for. Simply put, your home is by your Princess’s side, and hence, the subtle admission that the castle is as much a home to you as it is to her becomes the culprit behind the joyful little swell of your heart.

The short journey back to the castle is taken by way of a detour, in which you lead your lady through quiet alleyways, except that they are too deserted, almost suspiciously so. Once you reach the town square, you guide your lady to the exit on the other side, a hand on her back as you match her pace.

Beyond the archway, a hooded person is looming out of the darkness, and no sooner have you registered their dubious presence than your hand is grabbing your lady’s waist to urge her behind your body.

“Well, well, look who we have here.”

You recognise the voice to be that of a person from your life before your Princess, a thug who has had unsavoury history with you.

“I don’t have time for your tomfoolery.”

Mockery drips from your lips as you turn, taking your lady by her arm to leave through another archway, but to your vexation, you find that more hooded hooligans have obstructed your path. Hidden beneath your cloak is a sword attached to your hip. Closing your fingers around the hilt of it, you scan your surroundings with a surreptitious move of your eyes. There is a total of five people, six if you include the man standing behind you.

“Don’t you mean, you have no time at all because you see, me and my boys, we’re about to end you right here.”

He taunts you with his words, his insufferable tone grating on your nerves, and irked, you unsheathe your sword, just in time to swivel on your feet and parry his slash, a clang echoing through the alley when your blades collide. At the same time as you hold your stance, a strong kick is unleashed to his chest. The force of it sends him sprawling across the ground, and you let loose a snicker.

“All bark and no bite, eh?”

From your left and right, two of his lapdogs charge at you, and your blade effortlessly cuts through the air in a blur of sharp counterattacks and swift manoeuvres. You make quick work of them, one stab through the abdomen, another through the chest, and they are nothing but marionettes severed of strings, drowning in a pool of their own blood. Following in the wink of an eye is a shower of three more swords that descends upon you in full force, and you block them with your blade, raised horizontally above your head. No matter how well-trained you are, the combined strength of three against one is proving to be a little beyond your endurance.

Your knee has barely braced against the muddy ground when all of a sudden, one of your opponents drops dead, the Velaryon seahorse adorned hilt of a dagger which is embedded in his back letting you know that it has been a product of your lady’s great finesse.

Until now, all of their attention has been fixated on you, but now that your lady has divulged her capabilities, the two lapdogs disperse, one rushing towards your lady with a cry while the other swings his blade at you with renewed vigour. Every inch of your body screams at you to rush to your lady’s side, but the wretched little demon in front of you is giving you no leeway, lavishing you with onslaughts upon onslaughts of attacks, one of which, in your desperation to end him quickly, manages to catch you in your cloak.

“Stay focused, tigress.” As if sensing your distress, your Princess calls out to you. “Don’t worry about me.”

One touch of her voice and fire meets gasoline, the flame within you burning so fiercely that you let out a loud roar.

“Come on! Come at me, you cunt of a coward!!”

Having his feather ruffled by your gibe, he charges at you once more, but when the blade comes, rather than avoiding it, you catch it between your arm and body, trapping the sword and its wielder in place as you push your blade through his chest so hard that a good few length of it escapes through his back. Blood pours out of his sorry little mouth, and retrieving your sword from his body effectively drops him to the ground.

Your lady’s strikes, not as refined though they are as yours, can easily withstand a vermin whose attacks are disorganized at best. Furthermore, she is swift on her feet, wielding the agility of a crane whereas you possess the strength of a tigress, or so your Princess has whispered into your ears, your strikes always heavy, deep and precise.

Speaking of the Princess, your gaze catches her in time to feast your eyes upon her magnificence. The vermin has swung his blade at your lady, but she has gracefully swept down, and before he can recover, her dagger has made his stomach its temporary case, a snug fit. You watch, morbidly fascinated, as blood spills forth the hole once she pulls out her weapon before bestowing another swift stab upon his neck.

Out of five lapdogs, two lie dead at the hands of your lady, and three at yours which leaves only the old hound who at present, is eyeing you with contempt. When he starts advancing however, instead of lunging at you, he opts for your Princess, but having predicted his dirty, old tricks, you easily intercept, swift and light on your feet as your blades clash. You dance around each other in an exchange of onslaughts until once again, you are forced to maintain a firm stance to keep his sword from bearing down on you.

The rain has thinned and through the clouds, the sun’s rays has spilled across Driftmark. In the corner of your eyes, you discern a glint. You notice it a second too late though because one moment, both of his hands are keeping a firm grip on the blade, and the next, one hand has disappeared into his cloak to retrieve a hidden dagger. Nevertheless, his strength barely wavers, and so engrossed in keeping the looming threat at bay you are that you have not been able to stop in time the dagger that stabs you.

Although its sharp tip has scarcely pierced your flesh before you lock your fingers around his wrist, the struggle that pursues leaves a crimson slash across the plane of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you swallow the pain in fear that it will upset your Princess who apparently has seized the opportunity to deliver cuts to the backs of his knees. Immediately, he falls to the ground with a grunt. Meanwhile, you waste no time in kicking the dagger away from his hand and throwing his blade across the square.

“Bagged yourself another degenerate like yourself, huh? Or did you whore yourself out?”

You are not as perturbed by him making a ridicule out of you as you are livid by his insults towards your lady, but when you have poised to throw a punch to his face, a gentle hand on your arm stops you.

Pulled free of the hood and kissed by sunshine, a waterfall of liquid starlight almost appears to be glowing.

“Lady wife of the Sea Snake.”

She remains silent at his observation, staring him down, but something about him not addressing your lady by her individual title rubs you the wrong way. Still, you will not interfere, for after all, you dance to your lady’s every desire.

Entwined hands resting just below her waist, your Princess has donned intimidation as though it is regalia, a goddess to be worshiped oozing effortless allure.

“I- I didn’t know. Have mercy.”

“I can be merciful if I so choose, but I can’t in good conscience have a vengeful man pouncing on my sworn shield at every chance he gets. And what’s more, you have thrown insults to my face. I could have your tongue for it.” She blinks, sly and languid, slow and deliberate, alongside a small tilt to her head. “So, what do you propose I do, hm?”

“My tongue. If- if it would appease you-”

The old hound in the face of the dragon is like a lamb to the slaughter, grovelling at the feet of the exalted creature who slowly approaches him.

“Insults are insignificant.” So, she drawls, and before he can register a word, a dagger has been plunged so deeply into his throat by way of his mouth that blood gurgles. “Keep your tongue.”

A squelch accompanies the recovery of the dagger. While she wipes it clean off blood on his cloth, you carry out your own retrieval of her other dagger buried in the back of another body. It, too, is wiped clean before being sheathed on her hip.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Your question is answered with a query. “Are you?”

Her gaze, beneath the dapple of daylight, holds the warmth of sunlit amber, flecked with whispers of forest green, and when it caresses your body from head to toe in silent observation, the wound hidden beneath your cloak throbs in harmony with the beat of your heart.

“I am.” You say, and your lopsided grin garners a small smile in return. “It’s high time we returned home then.”

It is only when you have escorted your lady into the safety of her castle that your false bravado comes to light. Your fingers touch your stomach and they come away wet, viscous, and overwhelmingly red. While you are lost in your head, the voice that caresses your ears comes in the form of your name, and you look up to find your lady standing in front of you.

Stickiness clings to your palm as you curl your digits into a fist, but your sorry excuse of an attempt is proven futile when lithe fingers lock around your wrist. A tug coupled with a look from her is all it takes for your fist to pour open. You can almost pinpoint the exact moment when realisation dawns on her, in the delicate lines on her face that have all but calcified into rocky plains.

“Uncloak.” Her tone harbours an icy ring to it by the time she speaks, releasing your hand at the same time, although when you stand unmoving, she demands instead. “Now.”

Pulling your dark cloak open reveals to your lady the cut across your stomach in all its scarlet, grisly glory. There is a twitch to her jaw as well as a tiny tilt to her head, and when she looks at you, a tempest brews in her eyes, but beneath the blaze of storm-tossed sea, dark and churning with a blazing anger, you find a shadow of concern.

“Pay a visit to the Maester, get it treated, and by nightfall, I want you in my chambers.”

And so, that is how you find yourself in your lady’s chambers after getting the crimson slash properly cleaned, stitched and wrapped in fresh linens at the masterful hands of House Valeryon’s Maester.

The door shuts with a soft click, and a greeting falls past your lips.

“Princess.”

You have crossed paths with her handmaiden in the corridors leading up to the chambers, and she must have helped your lady get ready for bed, you conclude, for the Princess is now comfortably clothed. Oddly enough however, her braids are not yet unwoven which is how you find her now, sitting in front of her vanity desk, a waterfall of white silk flowing down her back.

As if possessing a mind of their own, your legs carry you towards your lady before depositing you directly behind her back. Immediately, reverently, your fingers make a descent onto the intricate little bun perched atop her head, during which the Princess regards you silently through the mirror’s reflection. With much delicacy, you unbind the thick braid that is keeping the bun in place, and doing so spills another layer of those silken locks in an effortless cascade down her back.

“You would do well to remember-” It is amidst you undoing one of the smaller braids that her voice graces your ears for the first time since you have set foot in her chambers. Meanwhile, her gaze finds yours in the mirror. “-that your fealty to me is to no avail should you lie wounded and are unable to fulfill your duties.”

“But what good is a sworn shield who cannot…well…” With a sigh, you drop your gaze to your hands before seeking her eyes once more. “…shield?”

“And what good is a sworn shield who cannot stand?”

“I am perfectly capable of standing though.”

“Are you?”

And then, she is turning on her seat, a lock of her star-kissed hair slipping through your fingers like liquid silver, as she seizes you by your tunic. In the wink of an eye, dainty lips collide with your own, all but sucking your soul out of your body, and your witty remark, which you have been intending to let loose, dissolves on her tongue altogether.

Such marks the epilogue to your little repartee.

While one hand holds a fistful of fabric, another wanders, ghosting along your thigh to then settle on your stomach, fingertips dancing across the gauze before it grabs your waist. A wicked pad of a thumb presses onto your side, and the outcome is just shy of agony, a whimper being fed into your lady’s mouth as your knees very nearly fail you.

“Kneel.”

With a mere touch of her murmured breath branded so deliciously onto your lips that are presently bearing the fruit of her ardent assaults, you are instantly reduced to a puddle at her feet, eager to worship your goddess.

“Hmm, I thought as much.”

“Well,-” Your tone is tinged with a whine, whereas a smile blossoms on your face. “-that was unfair.”

“Are you questioning your Princess?”

You tuck your face into her stomach, dropping a little kiss onto the spot where you think her navel lies.

“I wouldn’t dare, Princess.”

In the meantime, fingers trace patterns on your cheek, caress the outline of your jaw, and closing your eyes, you revel in the luxurious sensation up until a palm that cradles your face coaxes you out of your sweet sanctuary.

“It would be cruel of me to have you remain kneeling.” As she speaks, her thumb maps each curve and contour of your lips, which, swollen by now, speaks of whispered words and the heady waltz of fervent kisses. “I believe improvisations are in order.”

“Strip.”

And strip, you do, for at present, you stand only in your loose trousers.

Gracefully, tentalisingly, your lady arises, and even though a few braids remain in place, her hair, now freed from its confine, flows freely past her hip, a cascade of luminous waves shimmering like moonlight upon a still lake. Her gaze, on the other hand, is fixed on the linen that is entirely wrapped around your waist. The seepage of blood from the wound paints the white fabric in a vague vermillion which offers a glimpse into the extent of the injury.

“It will heal in no time, my lady.” Your attempt at soothing your lady is received with a gentle threat. “I do not tolerate imprudence. Nor deceit. It would do you well to remember that.”

“I will, Princess. But it doesn’t mean I won’t do it all over again if it concerns your safety.”

“Stubborn as ever.”

“My Princess likes me stubborn though, doesn’t she?”

“With that bold tongue of yours, count yourself lucky that I do.” Although she has leveled you with a glare, the blaze of which can very well put the sun to shame, you smile a cheeky little grin, looking every bit the picture of a cat that has eaten the canary, or rather, a tigress who has eaten the dragon. “That I agree. My tongue is capable of doing unimaginable wonders after all.”

You feel her hands move, and fearing that her fingers are once again going to subject you to those ruthless torments, you quickly raise your hands in surrender. She proves you wrong however by snaking her fingers into the waistband of your trousers.

“These need to go too.”

Your Princess has said her command, and like the very devotee that you are, your hands make swift work of getting rid of the only piece of clothing that is covering your body. Meanwhile, what enters your line of sight is a heap of white fabric that pools at your lady’s feet.

A breath catches in your throat, your heart beating with an awe so profound that it borders on reverence. She is a nymph of old tales, a creature of myth sung by the bards, born of the elements and graced with the beauty of the divine. Her presence, lucid and otherworldly at the same time, seems to draw the very light towards her, bathed in a halo of celestial radiance.

Your lady’s bare frame, delicate and strong, speaks of both grace and power, a goddess in her own right. It is a sight that will never tire you, and despite having seen it before, you are awed anew by such glorious vision. Your gaze lingers, admiring the soft curves and the rise and fall of her chest, enthralled by the sheer wonder of her existence that stirs the deepest corner of your soul.

Fascinated, you go to take her hips in your hands, but a push from her, and pliantly, you let yourself fall onto the mattress, for after all, a dragon will always be a dragon no matter the circumstances. You have not so much as blinked when she climbs atop the bed to straddle your body, toned thighs, befitting a dragon-rider of her caliber, on either side of your ribcage.

Your lips collide.

Amidst the clash of tongues and teeth, your hands find home on her waist, flesh supple and soft beneath your fingertips, as you move to sit up, lifting your lady slightly to reposition her on your lap, a special throne fit for your Queen.

Wetness oozes, and as soon as you feel the heat of her core on your thigh, you moan, but given that you are locked in place by a hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and an arm around your neck, it tumbles directly into her mouth. There is a sway to her hips, her essence coating your flesh, and all too eagerly, you encourage the dragon-rider to ride your thigh to her heart’s content, hands sliding into the delicious little dip of her waist as you help her maintain the rhythm that she has set.

Her lips part from yours with a delectable little mewl. Those delicate buds, once dainty, now beautifully bears the bloom of passion’s visit. Each swell hints at the fervor of love’s embrace, leaving them a charming, rosy hue, a testament to moments of rapture. Coated in a layer of dew, they glisten softly in the warm glow, as if kissed by dawn itself, promising the sweet ache of desire.

Like a siren’s call, they lure you, and enchanted, you give in, raising a hand to gently trace the curve of her lips beneath your fingertips. A gasp escapes your lips once your wrist is caught in her hand. Another catches in your throat when two of your fingers are sucked into her mouth.

Every ridge and bone is visited by a velveteen tip of a tongue, licking, prodding, and by the time she guides your hand between her legs, your fingers are as equally soaked as her core. They slip inside smoothly to be enveloped in luxurious softness. Curling your fingers into a cruel, little curve seems to drown your lady in sweet suffering if the way her forehead falls atop your shoulder to muffle the sounds, that very nearly spill out of her, with a bite to your flesh is any indication.

Beneath the soft folds of her belly, you can see muscles straining, hidden little pearl, hard and sensitive, grinding against your palm to seek friction. Meanwhile, your love-struck gaze is busy admiring the lovely little freckles that are scattered across her chest, a spillage of stars, and upon chasing them with your lips, syrupy sweet kisses blossom in their wake.

The sight of her trembling frame as she rides your fingers is a scene worthy to be immortalised in art form, but at the same time, you frankly doubt that bards and painters all across Westeros can truly do your lady’s ethereal beauty justice. Swelling to near bursting with adoration, you hold her to your chest, fingers doing their job in the warm cavern of her core, and in doing so, you earn yourself a nibble to your neck, lips closing around your pulse point, sucking, kissing.

Hot air escapes your mouth as you bury your nose in the healthy mane of her hair.

“You seem awfully fond of my hair, tigress.” She pants, whereas you smile, nuzzling her silky strands that are not only smooth but also addictively fragrant. “Fond is an understatement, Princess.”

“What is it, then?”

“Love.”

“You love my hair?”

You abandon your happy, little haven in favour of taking her face in your hand. Tiny pearls of sweat blooms on her forehead while her lips are slightly parted. A knit occupies the space between her eyebrows while her eyes, usually an intense hazel brown, are now hazy with hunger.

“I love you,-” It is into the delicate lines forming at the corner of her mouth that you breathe your admission. “-and everything you have to offer.”

She says nothing, but you doubt even a thousand spoken words will be capable of touching you the way you feel deeply touched by being made aware of the effect it has on her in the fluttering of her folds as they clench your fingers. Your lady has died that sweet little death in your embrace, head collapsing onto your shoulder. It is only when her muscles have relaxed, and her core has released its grip on your fingers that they can finally slip out.

“And my dear tigress.” Fingers lazily toy with your hair. “Yes, Princess?”

“Don’t you dare hide your wounds from me ever again.” Your arms wrap around her body to hold her a little closer, a little tighter, into which she happily melts, rare moments where you can witness her softer, more affectionate side.

Nevertheless, you must have taken too long to her liking because the delicate flesh of your neck falls victim to her teeth.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Although she has left you throbbing in pain, the happiness that swells inside your chest easily prevails over anything and everything, burning so fiercely that you feel as if you can conquer the Seven Kingdoms to offer it to her on a diamond platter. Suppressing your silly little urge, you content yourself instead with a delicate press of a kiss to her bare shoulder.

“Delightfully so, Princess.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[pinkslipxox]

Can you maybe write how Billie meet ivy

omggg yes i love that! Hope you like it, baby 🥰🙈💋

——————————————————————————

The mall was alive with the holiday spirit, twinkling lights reflecting off gleaming store windows, and laughter echoing throughout. Billie was casually strolling through, her raven black hair swaying gently as she adjusted her oversized hoodie. Despite her fame, she often found solace in the mundane, the feeling of being just another person lost in a crowd.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, a sudden commotion caught her attention—a small, frantic voice calling, “Mommy! Mommy!” Billie turned to see a little girl, no more than four years old, with big, teary eyes darting around aimlessly.

Without a second thought, Billie approached her. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

The girl looked up at Billie, momentarily starstruck, her fear momentarily forgotten. “I can’t find my mommy!”

Billie’s heart melted. Kneeling down to the girl’s level, she offered a warm smile. “It’s okay, I’m here to help. What’s your name?”

“Ivy,” the girl sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

“Ivy, that’s a lovely name. My name is Billie. Can you tell me what your mommy looks like?” Billie asked, keeping her tone gentle and inviting.

“She has long hair and she always wears blue,” Ivy replied, her tiny voice quivering.

“Okay, let’s find her together! We’ll make it an adventure.” Billie took Ivy’s small hand, and together they began to search through the throngs of shoppers.

As they passed a toy store, Ivy’s gaze drifted to a bright display of plush animals. “Look! Unicorns!” she gasped, momentarily distracted. Billie chuckled softly, kneeling to her height. “They’re pretty, huh? But we should find your mommy first so you can show her.”

With a nod, Ivy focused again on their mission, her little feet following Billie’s rhythm. After a few minutes, they heard a frantic voice yelling, “Ivy! Ivy!”

Billie’s heart ached at the sound of the panic in the mother’s voice. “That sounds like your mom! Let’s go!”

As they approached, Y/N appeared, her face pale with worry and her hair slightly disheveled. The moment she caught sight of Ivy, relief washed over her features. “Ivy!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to scoop her daughter into her arms.

“Mommy! I was lost!” Ivy cried, burying her face into Y/N’s shoulder.

“I know, baby, I was so scared. I thought I lost you!” Y/N hugged her tightly, tears of relief forming in her eyes as she looked over at Billie, gratitude evident in her expression. “Thank you so much for helping her.”

Billie smiled, her heart fluttering at the sight of the love and warmth that radiated from Y/N. “It was my pleasure. Ivy is a brave little explorer,” she replied, her voice soft and nurturing.

Y/N took a moment to collect herself, composing her thoughts while looking into Billie’s eyes. “I really can’t thank you enough. We were supposed to be having a fun day out, and I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found her.”

Billie felt an unexpected connection, an undeniable warmth encompassing her heart. “How about we make this a fun day after all? I’d love to treat you both to lunch. My way of saying thank you.”

Ivy’s eyes lit up at the prospect, bouncing slightly on Y/N’s hip. “Can we get pizza?”

Y/N’s lips pulled into a small smile, swayed by Ivy’s excitement. “Pizza sounds perfect,” she agreed, her gaze softening towards Billie. “If you’re sure…”

“Absolutely!” Billie insisted, her enthusiasm genuine. “Let’s turn this around. I’d love to get to know the both of you.”

As they made their way to the food court, Ivy chattered excitedly about her favorite cartoon characters, drawing laughter from both Billie and Y/N. Billie found herself enraptured not just by Ivy’s infectious energy, but also by Y/N’s warm responses—the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and the kindness in her voice that set her soul at ease.

They settled at a cozy table, and Billie watched as Y/N playfully interacted with Ivy, a caring demeanor that made her heart swell. Between bites of cheesy pizza, Billie found herself lost in conversation, laughter blending with the mall’s joyful atmosphere.

“I’m really glad you were there, Billie,” Y/N said, her voice softening as she glanced at Billie. “You have such a kind spirit.”

Billie felt the heat rise to her cheeks, her heart racing slightly. “Thanks, Y/N. I was just in the right place at the right time, I guess.”

As lunch went on, the bond between them grew stronger. Ivy’s excitement provided an effortless backdrop for conversations filled with shared laughter and stories, while Billie found herself increasingly captivated by Y/N.

When it was time for dessert, they made their way to the ice cream stand, Ivy bouncing on her heels in anticipation. Billie leaned closer to Y/N, her voice almost a whisper. “You’re an amazing mom. Ivy is so lucky to have you.”

Y/N looked up, her cheeks tinted with a soft blush as she smiled back. “Thank you, that means a lot. Raising her on my own is a challenge, but moments like these make it worthwhile.”

In that bustling mall, amidst the chaos of holiday shopping, the serendipitous meeting blossomed into something beautiful—a connection between three hearts. Billie couldn’t help but feel she had found something special that day.

As Ivy savored her ice cream, laughter spilling into the air, Billie knew she wanted to see Y/N and Ivy again, to explore the possibility of something more. The world around them faded as the possibilities unfurled, leaving just the three of them, intertwined in a moment of pure joy and the beginnings of an unexpected love.

[peachsukii]

I wanted to continue off of last week’s Softie Sunday story about the Bakugo family bookstore. 🥰 I know it’s a liiiittle late but I finally got around to writing this out today.

✮ content. bookstore owner!bakugo. no quirks. mentions of children (two daughters: 16 and 10), Bakugo & reader are married.

“So…there’s somethin’ I wanna tell ya,” your eldest daughter starts, pausing to await your reactions. Katsuki quirks an eyebrow at her and glances your way, signaling for you to take the reins.

“Sure honey. What is it?” You ask, placing your utensils on the table and folding your hands over one another, devoting your attention to her. It wasn’t uncommon for important conversations to happen over dinner in the Bakugo household, it’s where you all could come together to connect every night.

“I decided what I wanna do. Y’know, as a career…at least I think I do.”

Katsuki tilts his head in curiosity while taking another bite of his dinner. “Yeah? An’ what’s that?”

She takes a deep breath before smiling confidently.

“I wanna be an author, just like Aunt Momo!”

Katsuki’s eyes twinkle under the dining room lights, beaming over his daughter’s aspirations. She was always the kid with the wildest imagination, constantly drawing cute children’s stories throughout school and acing all her creative writing projects. You and Katsuki assumed she’d want to be writer or illustrator when she was older, but never wanted to push her on it. It’s a hobby she loved and you didn’t want to pressure her into turning it into a career.

“That’s fantastic, sweetie!” You praise, reaching across the table to touch her hand. She turns to Katsuki, putting her free hand on his shoulder.

“Plus, someone’s gotta be book smart like Pops to run our store. I wanna continue the family legacy.”

He’s stunned, speechless. The room remains quiet until the silence is broken with your youngest throwing her fists in the air, victoriously shouting, “See sis? I knew he’d cry!”

Katsuki bursts into laughter, wiping the stray tears away with the backs of his hands. “That predictable, huh? M’proud of you, peach. Your Ma and I love and support whatever you wanna do.”

Your eldest crinkles her nose before grinning widely, just like her father does.

“Why don’t we call Aunt Momo after dinner, see if she has time to take you to lunch to talk about it?” You offer, squeezing her hand assuringly. “I’m sure she’d love to talk your ear off about writing.” She nods excitedly, her smile lighting up the room.

“I’ve got an idea for ya,” Katsuki says, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “How ‘bout we let you do a reading at the shop? Compile some of your stories in an anthology of sorts and read ‘em to customers, get yourself out there. We’ve got the space.”

“Really?!” She gasps, eyes wide with excitement.

He smiles, leaning his elbows back onto the table. “It’s our store and I’m the boss. We can figure it out after your talk with Aunt Ponytail.”

She jumps up from her seat, feet padding down the hallway to her room while exclaiming, “I’m gonna call her now!”

“There she goes, reminds me of someone I know,” you tease, winking in Katsuki’s direction. He shakes his head with a chuckle. In the distance, you can faintly hear “Auntie Momo! How are you?! I want to…” coming from her room.

It’s hard to believe how much a little local bookstore has helped shape your family into what it is today, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

What The Heart Desires ❤️💚 (Daddy Dom!BakuKiri x sub!Mina x sub!Reader 18+ Short Fic)

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which two lonely-hearted girls make a wish on a star one Christmas Eve for their hearts’ desires: a Daddy Dom. What they don’t expect that night after their annual Christmas party is to receive that wish in two. When their very special party guests and secret crushes show up unannounced at their door proclaiming their romantic feelings and that these two cuties are theirs, what will our two lonely hearts do? Will they have to choose?

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Pro!KiriBakuMina (Late 20s-Early 30s); Bimbo!sub!Mina x Bimbo!sub!Reader; Dom!KiriBaku; Fantasy; Comedy; Size Difference; Aphrodisiac; Dubcon/R*pe; Body/Chest Worship; Scar Appreciation; Foreplay; Messy Kissing; Spit Play; Cum Play; S*x w/ S*x Toys; Anal Play; Spanking; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Degradation/Praise; Daddy Kink; DDLG; Mild BDSM; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Slutifcation; Objectification; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Missionary, Daisy Chain, etc.); Polyamorous; Everyone Is Bi; Mutual Os; Creampies; Ownership; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This chapter contains MAJOR SMUT AND NASTY SHIT. GO TOUCH GRASS AFTERWARDS. LOVE YOU! 🥰 -Jazz

Chapters: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. BONUS CHAPTER.

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

SIX: NAUGHTY, NICE OR SLUTTY?

As the night stretches on, the cold wind blows and the snow falls outside. But you and Mina aren’t worried about any calls for a blizzard tonight.

Right now, you’re too busy burning from the intense arousal that your Daddies and adoring pro heroes are giving you as they lay you down in front of the blazing fireplace. The Christmas lights on the tree twinkle, illuminating Bakugou and Kiri’s impressive physiques in green, red, and white.

They are truly the most perfect Christmas gifts, worthy of being under your tree every year…if you’ve been good, of course. But you know that these pros aren’t looking for good girls tonight.

They want two slutty, needy, desperate little girls to play with, use, and dick down tonight…and then maybe some good girls to snuggle afterward. Lucky for them, you and Mina are on the exact same time.

Mina naughtily giggles as Kiri coaxes her into a kiss, his hand on her throat. You’re stuck with Bakugou for now, but you wouldn’t give that up for anything. Not when he’s lying you back and currently spreading your thighs apart, his vermillion eyes all aglow with lust. A bottle of cherry-flavored heating lube and a rose toy sit next to him, making you tingle with excitement.

“Just lean back for me, baby,” he orders. “And you’d better pay attention while I do it. Just ‘cause your girl looks so good doesn’t mean you get to avoid me.”

Kiri tsks, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. “He’s such an attention whore, ain’t he?” he cackles. “But I think our baby here one-ups him at about five points.”

In a split second, he has Mina bent over in front of the fire, her perky ass up and her face down on the plush rug. You watch in fascination, awe, and arousal as the redhead spreads your girlfriend’s asscheeks apart, showing off her glistening, sobbing wet, pink pussy lips.

Then he is leaning in and sloppily eating it before sliding his tongue up to her ass. Mina gasps, her lashes fluttering as her eyes roll to the back of her head. Whimpering, she tries to push her ass back into Kiri’s mouth, but he clamps a hand on her lower back, keeping her still as he licks away.

After coating her asshole in his spit and stimulating her as much as possible, he takes one of Mina’s favorite butt plugs—the kind with a gem on the end—from next to him, sucks on it, and gently begins to rim the tight hole with it.

The moans that leave Mina’s lips are lewd and loud, fit especially for a porno. Kiri gives her a toothy grin, his cock twitching between his thighs. “That feel nice, Mina?” he cooingly asks her.

”Y-Yes, Daddy,” she moans and a sly smile stretches across her face. “But I’d know what would feel even better.”

Before you can peep more on their moment like a little pervert, you feel the rose toy vibrating against your clit while Bakugou’s hot, wet tongue caresses your slit. Your thighs clench and your hands move to grip his spiked, blonde hair as he slurps and licks away, the toy buzzing against your clit. “Ah, fuck!” you moan. “Yes, ‘Suki, that’s so good!”

Bakugou stares at you between your thighs, his stare hot and possessive. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums against your pussy. “You taste so good for me.” He uses the flat of his tongue to press against your slit while he rubs the rose against your clit, stimulating you in both places. You twitch in pleasure, trying to move away from it because it is just too much!

But Bakugou stops you, placing his scarred hand on one thigh to keep it pinned open. “Uh-uh, no moving. Don’t you dare try to run from this.” He continues to turn tricks with his tongue and soft lips, practically French kissing your pussy. You whimper at the agonizing pleasure. “B-But, Daddy—“

“Fuck, Eji, yes!” Mina yelps from beside you. You turn your head, finding Kiri’s tongue rimming her asshole, replacing the plug for a moment to tease her with his tongue. “Yeah? My little slut likes getting her ass ate, doesn’t she?” Your girlfriend nods, her whimpers and soft moans desperate and needy.

“I bet you love gettin’ it fucked too,” Kiri hums. “Let’s find out.” He pulls his lips away from her and begins to slowly push the plug into her ass.

Your pussy throbs watching the tight hole stretch around the plug, especially when Kiri begins to fuck her asshole with it, turning and twisting the bullet-shaped plug this way and that. “That’s it, take it, baby. Take it like a good girl for me.”

Mina grips the rug for dear life, winding her hips, unashamed and slutty as the pleasure Kiri gives her washes over her. “Oh, my God!” she whines. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Hey.” Bakugou slaps your pussy with his hand, making you jump. He glares at you, irked that your attention isn’t on him and only him.

“Pay attention. I’ve got my tongue in you after all.” He presses the toy harder against your clit, earning a moan from deep in your chest. “I-I’m sorry, ‘Suki,” you whimper. “I-It’s just that…”

He smirks at you, jutting a chin at your whining, whimpering, writhing girlfriend. “You like watchin’ your slutty girlfriend get that pretty asshole fucked, don’t you?” he asks. “Nasty little whore, ain’t she?”

So are you. Your pussy creams and gushes around Bakugou’s skillful tongue as he licks away at your pussy, alternating between sucking on your clit and using the rose to stimulate it.

You can’t help yourself—you begin to grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for more. “That’s it,” he coos. “That’s my girl. Fuck my tongue.”

He watches greedily as you, his good, sweet little baby girl, fucks his face and soaks his mouth in your juices. You turn into a babbling, whining mess, unable to keep your voice down or stop your moans. “Oh, Daddy, yes, yes, yes!”

Mina is in the same state as you, bent over and writhing against Kiri’s tongue as he eats her out and fucks her asshole with the butt plug at the same time. The pros toss you and your girlfriend into a sea of bliss, constantly stimulating you until you have no choice in the matter of orgasming anymore.

“O-Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum!” Mina wails. “I’m so fucking close!” Kiri pulls his lips away from her pink pussy lips to give her ass a smack. “Such a nasty mouth on you. We’ll have to fix that later.”

Bakugou peers into your eyes from between your thighs, still masturbating you with the rose. “You cummin’ too, baby?” he asks. “What’s the magic word?” He turns to Mina, glaring into her glazed, lustful eyes. “Both of you. Say it to us.”

“Please!” she wails, gripping the rug underneath her.

“Please let us cum, Daddies!” you sob, feeling that knot in your core tighten like a fist. “We need it so bad!”

Bakugou must be satisfied because he dives back into your cunt and drinks it like a starving man, desperate to make you cum. Kiri lovingly strokes Mina’s ass while she frantically rubs her clit, her glossy, candy-apple red nails looking so pretty against her pussy. “Go ahead and give it to us, darlings,” he coos. “Cum for us.”

He, too, goes back to eating Mina out until the both of you are moaning so loud that you imagine the neighbors hearing among the quiet snowstorm. When your orgasm comes, it comes fast, hitting you like a freight train. Your back arches as you gush all over Bakugou’s face and the rose toy, tingles of pleasure rushing through your body.

Mina cums too, her moans mingling with yours and filling the air. Bakugou and Kiri continue to lick away until your bucks of pleasure stop and your moans die down into weak, soft whimpers and sighs.

When your orgasm high fades, your pussy twitches as Bakugou gently smooches it, having successfully cleaned all of your cum off of your pussy lips and thighs. He pulls the toy away from your clit and sucks your juices off of it, not leaving anything to waste.

“Good girls, mamas!” Kiri praises, pressing a twitching Mina on the backside. “You both listen to directions so well! How’d we get so lucky, huh?”

A lazy, satisfied smile stretches across your face. You are totally spent. “Thank you,” you sigh. You don’t have to look at Mina to see that she’s smiling. You can hear it in her soft, weak moans.

Bakugou gives you a crooked smile, wiping at his bottom lip and snakebites. “So sweet. Unlike your woman here.” He nods at Mina who has fully recovered and is now making her way over to the blonde.

She has turned into a cat, seducing Bakugou with her eyes and bimbo charm. “Can I thank you both in another way, Daddies?” she purrs. With a mischievous smile, she reaches out to grab Bakugou’s inviting, hard, throbbing cock.

The blonde grasps hold of her tiny wrist, scowling at her. “I didn’t say you could touch me. You forget your manner, Pinkie?”

Mina whimpers, her eyes big and soft. Before she can say anything at all, Bakugou forces her to bend over so she is at eye level with your glistening, wet cunt. “Open your mouth,” he growls. “You wanna be a greedy little slut and put your mouth on somethin’, do it right here.”

Within the blink of an eye, Mina pushes her face into your pussy where she uses her soft lips and magical tongue to eat you out. No matter if you’re whimpering, writhing, and squirming from the intense, almost agonizing pleasure after your first orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Mina!” you whine.

Mina hums into your cunt, sloppy sounds escaping her as she eats to her heart’s content. She has turned into a total pussy slut, needing you like she needs water. “You taste so good here, baby,” she moans. “You’re so fucking—oooooh!”

Her words are cut off when Kiri suddenly slides his cock into her pussy from behind, gripping her hips for leverage. “Now, that’s no way to talk,” he teasingly criticizes her. “Good girls don’t have dirty mouths. Does Daddy have to teach you a lesson, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He just proceeds to roll his hips into her, giving you a front-seat view of his jiggling pecs and her ass bouncing off of him as he gives her back shots. You rub your clit at the sight, gushing into Mina’s mouth.

You can only enjoy the scene for some time before Bakugou’s throbbing, hard, veiny cock is suddenly in your face. He is hovering beside you, holding his dick above your mouth.

“Open up,” he demands. “We don’t need to wake the neighbors, now do we?” A sly grin pulls at his lips. “Or would you rather them hear how you sound gettin’ that pussy ate?”

Plap, plap.

His cock bobs against your lips, staining them in his pre-cum like lipgloss. “Oooh, I bet she does,” Kiri cackles through his huffs as he fucks Mina. “Bet both of them want the whole world to hear how they sound gettin’ their brains fucked out of their heads.”

You open your mouth, wanting to taste your man, and Bakugou slides his cock into your pretty mouth. He groans, tossing his head back at the velvety, wet walls of your mouth.

“So, so cute,” he groans. “So pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

He begins to rock his hips against your mouth, his head just kissing the threshold of your throat while Mina sucks on your clit. “C‘mon, mama, take him deeper,” Kiri coos. “You know you love suckin’ on pro hero cock. Just as much as I love fuckin’ your pretty girl.”

He bumps his hips roughly into Mina’s ass, causing her tongue to slip inside of you. You moan around Bakugou’s dick as Mina is see-sawed between you and Kiri, him pushing and pulling her back.

“Our pretty girl,” Bakugou grunts. “They’re ours now.” He looks down at you as he feeds you more of his big cock down your throat. “Aren’t you, baby? Aren’t you ours?”

Your throat flexes around him, causing you to gag as he begins to stroke the inner walls of your throat. “Mmm-hmmm!” you mumble around his cock. Saliva pools from your lips, dripping down your chin.

Kiri’s handsome face is flushed, his crimson eyes slitted as he stares at his boyfriend fucking your mouth. “Fuck her mouth harder, Kats. I wanna see those eyes roll back into that pretty head.”

Bakugou swears, pushing himself flush against your mouth. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do,” he growls. “If ya want me to do that, you’d better fuck that little slut harder.”

Mina whines into your pussy, still licking and lapping at your juices. Kiri grins, gripping onto her asscheeks. “She sounds like she likes the sound of that,” he chuckles. “Hang on tight, Mina, baby.”

Together, Kiri fucks Mina’s pussy off of its hinges while Bakugou fucks your face, grunting as he does. Through it all, Mina continues to eat you out, making your moans grow loud and unabashed around Bakugou’s dick. Your second orgasm begins to crest, rising to the surface.

Bakugou’s cock slips out of your mouth, allowing you to warn your girlfriend and your Daddies of your end. “I’m gonna cum!” you whine. “I c-can’t! Can’t stop!” Mina whines into your pussy, signaling that she’s close too.

Bakugou slides back into your mouth, fucking your throat like he’s trying to hit a home run. “M’cumming too, baby,” he groans. “Take it all. Don’t you dare waste a drop of me.”

“M-Me too,” Kiri stammers, his handsome face etched in pleasure from Mina’s pussy squeezing around him. “Both of you cum with us. Go ahead, babies.”

Your second orgasm slams into you so hard that all you can do is gasp around Bakugou’s cock. As you gush into Mina’s mouth, she cums around Kiri’s cock, causing him to shoot his load deep inside of her. “Oh, fuck!” he groans, throwing his head back as he releases a fat load deep inside of her pussy.

With a groan, Bakugou cums too, shooting his own creamy load of spunk into your throat. You gargle in surprise at the amount he gives you, doing your best to swallow each ounce like a good girl and not choke (thank God for your nostrils).

Finally, the blonde sits back and pants, his cock still semi-hard. It slips out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow and breathe. “Oh, wow,” you sigh

Your body is tingling, your muscles like putty from two orgasms. Mina pants, leaning against your inner thigh while Kiri leans against her, being careful to not crush her. “‘Oh, wow’ is right,” Bakugou chuckles, his eyes flaring. “But we ain’t finished with you two whores yet. And I know for a fact that you ain’t done with us yet either.”

You feel an excited shiver run through your entire body. Despite those two mind-blowing orgasms, you want more. You want to give more. Judging from the look in Mina’s eyes as Kiri wraps his big arms around her, she does too. “What’d you have in mind, Daddies?” she purrs, nuzzling her cheek into Kiri’s forearm.

The redhead gives Bakugou a deviant, wicked grin that makes your stomach flip. “Whatever else you got up in that goodie drawer.”

Unfortunately for you and Mina, your Daddies raid that damn thing and sometime later, the pros are playing with you again.

Suddenly, you find yourself on all fours with Kiri’s thick cock balls deep inside of your soaking pussy with a butt plug snuggly in your asshole. Lube drips from both of your holes, mixing with the juices that drip down your thighs, making it much easier for Kiri to sink in and out of you.

Your eyes fill with tears from the pleasure and your arch is wobbly. You can barely stand the constant stimulation. “K-Kiri,” you whine. “I feel so…s-so—“

“Full?” he finishes for you. He chuckles, gently stroking your back. “I know, sugar, but you’re doin’ sooo good for me. Just look at how pretty this ass is, Kats!” He gives your ass a smack as he strokes your walls with his dick, taking his sweet time and making you feel all of him.

Bakugou is too busy focusing on Mina who he’s got bent over, face down ass up, his finger stuffed in her pussy while he fucks her asshole with a butt plug. “I will once I show this bratty bitch down here who’s boss,” he growls. “She seemed to forget and tried to reach for my dick…without permission, mind you.”

Mina mewls into the carpet, grasping onto anything as Bakugou fucks both of her holes. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy! You just look so good!”

Spank!

Kiri gives her ass a swat, earning a loud, wanton moan from her. “Couldn’t help myself,” he snickers. “You get one too, mama.” He raises his hand, smacking your ass once more.

Spank!

You gasp, the slight sting making your pussy clench around him. You need more. You need so much more. You push back against him, fucking him yourself. “N-Need you,” you whimper pitifully. “Please, Daddy, fuck me.”

Kiri shudders, hypnotized by the way you look on his cock. He presses a kiss to your backside, totally in love with you. “Well, since my baby asked for it so nicely…”

Finally, he grabs your hips and begins to fuck you deeper, giving you as much dick as you need, no matter the inches. Mina is right in front of you, her face etched in ecstasy as Bakugou slides his fat cock inside of her finally. Your fluttering eyes and open-mouthed expressions mirror one another as each cock fills you up.

Kiri hums in enjoyment, placing a hand around your throat. “Such big girls takin’ two big cocks in those pretty pussies.” His lewd praise makes you whine, your vision blurry from the pleasure.

“Look at your girl gettin’ fucked,” he growls into your ear. “Doesn’t she look so pretty? Why don’t you give her a kiss?”

You stare at your girlfriend’s soft, glassy eyes, full of tears from the pleasure, her smudged lipgloss, and gorgeous tits bouncing as Bakugou rails her from behind and her nipples pinched pink from the nipple clamps. Pain slut. Yes, she does look pretty. The prettiest.

“B-Baby,” she whines. “You’re so beautiful.” She reaches for you at the same time you reach for her, pressing your lips together in a sloppy, messy kiss that Bakugou and Kiri definitely enjoy watching.

You moan into the kiss, your taste lingering on Mina’s tongue. But the magic is interrupted when you suddenly feel Kiri begin to fuck the butt plug in and out of your asshole, squelching sounds escaping you. Mina whines as Bakugou does the same to her, pushing her further into the throes of pleasure. “K-Katsuki, that’s s-so mean!” she stammers.

The blonde scowls at her, a blush on his cheeks at the way her body lewdly moves. “Greedy whores like you deserve it. Now shut the fuck up and keep bouncin’ on that dick.” He twines his hair in her pink locks and pulls, much to her enjoyment. You love seeing your girl go slutty and dumb on a cock.

Kiri pushes his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your fruity hair cream. “C’mon, baby, throw that ass back on me,” he groans. “Fuck me back. Show me you need this too.”

You do just as he wants, tossing your ass back into him and meeting his thrusts. Hot pants and moans reach a crescendo as you bounce back onto Kiri’s dick while your fingers toy with your clit, bringing you closer to a third orgasm. “That’s my baby,” he grunts. “That’s my good, good girl.”

He uses one hand to cup one of your juicy tits while the other massages your ass as he plows himself into you again and again, turning your pussy into wet mush. “Kiri, I’m gonna cum!” you moan. “Please do it faster! Please!”

The redhead smirks to himself, drilling his hips into you faster and faster. “Is this good enough for you, mama?” he pants. “Huh? Is this dick good enough for you?”

You can’t even describe how it feels. All you can do is babble and wine, your voice reaching heights it never has before. “Fuck yes!” you practically scream. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…!” You don’t finish your sentence, the urge to climax once more too much for you to contain.

Mina whines and moans in front of you, still taking Bakugou’s cock like it is her profession. “M-Me too!” she sobs. “Please, Daddies, make us cum! Please! I promise I’ll be a good girl!”

The blonde wickedly smiles down at her, overjoyed to turn you both into some stupid, brainless cumsluts. “We’ll see about that,” he huffs. “Go ahead and give it to me then. Cum for us, you little sluts.”

Kiri groans as he fucks into you deeper, gripping your smaller, softer body to him in an effort to keep you close. “Cum with me, baby,” he begs. “Cum with me now.”

You let out a broken sob while Mina practically sings as you both cum together, your pussies gushing all over your Daddies’ cocks. Your orgasms trigger Bakugou and Kiri and with two loud moans in unison, they finally bust inside of each of you, filling you both up with two, warm, creamy loads.

You gasp as Kiri grasps your hips hard enough to leave bruises, gripping you like you’re about to disappear. You feel his load drip out of your pussy and down your thighs, coating you.

With a sigh and a weak moan, Kiri pulls out of you, allowing you to slump to the floor in exhaustion. He nuzzles your cheek and presses a kiss to your forehead. “That’s my good girl,” he coos, earning a goofy smile from you. But Bakugou isn’t so touchy-feely. He pulls out of Mina and lets her slump to the floor before drilling you with a hot stare.

“Not done yet,” he growls. “‘Bout to fill you up too. Come the fuck here.” You gape at him, shocked. Again?! He just came twice! He’s like a damn machine. “And you.” Bakugou crooks a finger at Mina in a ‘come hither’ motion.

Despite her sexed-out curls and hooded eyes, she crawls towards him obediently. “How do you want me, Daddy?” she softly and oh-so seductively asks, batting her long lashes.

“Get underneath your girl and please us while I fuck her,” he demands. “You don’t get to just sit there and look pretty. I want you to work that mouth the way you know how.”

Mina is more than happy to oblige, her eyes lighting up like Christmas trees at the prospect of more messy sex. “Yes, sir,” she exhales as she lays down on her back, her gorgeous body on full display and her skin illuminated by the firelight.

Bakugou helps you climb on top and straddle her face, your limbs tired and achy. Mina grips your hips as he slides himself inside of you, filling you until his balls touch your clit. You groan at the delicious stretch and the ache in your cunt, squirming around from his stroke game as he begins to thrust.

He grips your waist tightly, refusing to let you go. “Don’t run from me,” he growls. “No, you take this shit. You wanted it and now you’ve got it.”

You can’t take it! Any of it! Not his delicious cock. Not Mina’s soft lips and tongue caressing your clit or eagerly sucking on Bakugou’s balls. Not any of it. You feel like you’re a balloon expanding with too much air. Bakugou presses his nose into your hair, his snakebites tickling your ear.

“You’ve got it, baby,” he whispers. “You’re a big girl, right? You don’t wanna disappoint Daddy, do you?”

No. Never.

"N-No!” you sob. Bakugou smirks into your hair, wrapping his hand around your throat as he drills your shit over and over again. “Fuckin’ fuck me back then.” Despite your aching thighs, you rock yourself back into him, riding Mina’s face at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed.

When you open them, Kiri has appeared in front of you, his lips parted in a silent moan as he fists his hard cock. “Damn slut,” Bakugou cackles. “He’s so pussy-whipped that he can’t keep his hands off of himself.”

The redhead grows as red as his face, his fist gripping his hard, veiny cock. “Can’t help it,” he sighs. “You’re all just so goddamn hot.”

He moves closer to you on his own, his cock swinging between his thighs. “Come here,” Bakugou growls before grabbing Kiri and pressing his lips to his. The two messily kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths as Kiri jerks himself off to the sounds and sights of you and Mina.

You can feel a mixture of your cum and Mina’s spit drip down your thighs, making the area so wet that it stimulates you even more intensely. You can feel it—that fourth orgasm. It rises to the surface like a tidal wave ready to wash you away.

Bakugou can feel your pussy clenching tight around him, signaling your final nut. “Whose are you?” he asks, squeezing your throat. “Tell me who the fuck owns you.”

He pistons his hips harder, faster, making your pussy squelch and Mina struggle to keep up with licking and sucking you. “‘You do!” you sob. “I’m yours, Daddies, I’m yours!”

“Show us then,” Bakugou demands. “Cum on that dick, baby.” Kiri kisses his boyfriend’s cheek, still stroking his cock in tandem with Bakugou’s vigorous thrusts. “You cum too,” he coos. “Fill her up for me, babe. Give her all of them babies.”

It doesn’t take long for either you or Bakugou to cum. With a shuddering groan and a growl of pleasure, he releases a warm stream of spunk into your pussy, leaving enough droplets for Mina to slurp up from underneath you, moaning as she does.

Kiri appears in front of you, his fist moving like a blur across his cock. “Where do you want it, babe?” he teasingly asks. “You better tell me now before I choose for you.”

You stare up at him as the aftershocks kick in, making you buck against Bakugou’s cock. “In my mouth,” you beggingly reply. “Do it in my mouth, Daddy.”

Kiri is more than happy to fulfill your request. After a few more strokes, he releases into your open mouth with a groan, spurting drops of spunk onto your tongue and lips. You take it all, including Bakugou’s smack and kiss mark on your ass before he pulls out of you. Exhausted, you roll off of Mina onto your back, panting heavily.

Bakugou makes Mina clean your cum off of his cock which she happily does, slurping up all that he gives her. Finally, you and your girlfriend lay side by side in the firelight, panting, sweating, and twitching. Totally fucked. Totally spent. Absolutely satisfied.

The two pros stare down at you, proud of their work. Bakugou grips both your and Mina’s chins in his hands, squeezing your cheeks together. “Now you know how it feels to be ours,” he says, his voice low and seductive. “And you’ll remember that, right?”

He stares into your eyes, silently demanding a response. “Yes, Daddies,” you reply in unison.

The two smile, flashing their gorgeous smiles at you. “Good girls,” they reply. You and Mina shiver at the praise. “Now let’s get you two cleaned up,” Kiri coos.

The rest of the night is all about aftercare. Nothing but oil massages to ease your aching muscles, a hot shower complete with bubbles and tender kissing, and mugs of tea to relax your mind. At some point, you four snuggle in front of the fireplace together, the night nearing the AM hours. You’re tucked under a blanket between Bakugou and Mina while Kiri lays beside her, nuzzling into her hair.

As the wind howls outside, you snuggle into Bakugou’s chest, earning a soft, tender kiss on the forehead. “Go to sleep,” he murmurs. “Don’t fight it.”

You don’t remember when you fall asleep, but you do remember that you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[tessa-liam]

Two 2 Tango

All is Fair in Love and War, part 2

Two 2 Tango >>>mini-series

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir Book 2 AU

Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x F! OC, Daniella Gandi

Summary: Maxwell is invited to take part as a tango dance partner in an upcoming tango festival in Italy by Daniela Gandi. A dance instructor that helped Liam and Riley win a competition in Auvernal 5 years previously, felt sparks fly between herself and her assigned partner, Maxwell Beaumont.

◇Mini-series inspired by the one-shot: All is Fair in Love & War ◇

Warnings: none

Category: fluff, mini series

This story has not been Beta'd, please excuse all errors.

Series Rating: Adult, 18+

Word Count: 1483

🎶 🎶 💃 🕺 🎶🎶

Turin, Italy

Daniella stood and stretched her long, tanned legs, her lithe figure moving with practiced ease. She ran her hands through her long, brown hair and pulled it into a ponytail, tying it back.

Daniella is wearing a black sports bra and matching leggings. Her toned muscles ripple beneath her taut skin, and her blue eyes twinkle with excitement as she started her morning routine in the dance studio.

Her dance studio.

With a generous donation by a Cordonian King in his appreciation of her participation with his queen’s quest to learn how to dance the tango years ago, she was able to realize her dream.

To have her own dance studio.

Daniella was excited for today's event, the grand opening of her dance studio. It was a big moment for her, and she could not wait to share it with her friends and family.

Finished with her morning stretches, Daniella headed upstairs and into her loft overlooking the dance floor below. She started a pot of coffee and then grabbed a granola bar and an apple from the pantry. Reaching for her phone, she sent a text to Maxwell Beaumont, inviting him to dance with her in an international tango competition next month.

Maxwell's reply came in less than five minutes later.

Dukedom of Ramsford, Cordonia

Maxwell was enjoying the morning Mediterranean sun, lounging poolside at the Beaumont estate in Cordonia. He was sipping on a fruity drink and listening to music on his ear-pods. The atmosphere around him was calm and peaceful. Maxwell was lost in his own thoughts when his phone vibrated with a new text message. Maxwell picked up his phone and read the text from Daniella. She was inviting him to attend the opening of her new dance studio. Maxwell smiled as he remembered the time he spent dancing with Daniella at the palace 5 years ago. He replied to the text at once, accepting the invitation.

After replying to the text, Maxwell put his phone down and laid back on the lounge chair. He closed his eyes and let the warm sun soak into his skin once more. His mind wandered back to his days of dancing with Daniella, and he couldn't help but smile. He had really enjoyed spending time with her, and he hoped that maybe there could be something more between them one day.

Maxwell: Yes!!! I'd love to. I'm free this weekend, if you want to practice. 😍🫶

Daniella smiled as she read his message. She quickly replied, setting up a time for them to meet, inviting him to her dance studio in Turin.

Daniella's heart beat faster in her chest as she thought about spending the upcoming weekend with Maxwell.

It had been a while since they last danced together, and she could not wait to see his handsome face again.

Maxwell: See you soon, tango-rina girl! 🥰❤️

Daniella giggled at his use of her nickname that he gave her and sent him a heart emoji in return.

With the time for their reunion set, Daniella placed her phone down on the counter and took another sip of her coffee.

Turin, Italy - 10 days later

As Maxwell arrived at Daniella's dance studio, the doors opened to reveal her smiling face.

"Ciao, tangorina girl." he chirped as he walked into the studio, embracing Daniella with a hug.

"Ciao, Maxxie! Grazie per essere venuto qui! " [Thanks for coming, here!]

Daniella replied, blushing slightly.

"It's fantastic to see you again," Maxwell says as they pull apart.

Daniella led him into the studio and gave him a tour. They walked through the large, open room where the classes will be held, and then headed upstairs to the loft.

Daniella pointed out the different rooms that they will be using for private lessons, saving the best for last --

The rooftop patio.

"Wow, this is an incredible view!" Maxwell gasped, looking out over the city.

Daniella nodded, leaning against the railing. "I'm so glad that we will have the chance to work together again."

Maxwell smiled and reached for her hand. "Me too... I can't wait to dance with you again, tangorina girl."

Their eyes locked, and Daniella felt her heart start to beat faster. Maxwell leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Let's dance," he whispered, and they spent the rest of the afternoon practicing their tango routine.

Maxwell and Daniella's dance moves were seamless and in sync, as their chemistry on and off the dance floor was undeniable.

Maxwell found himself falling for the gorgeous dance instructor.

They spent the rest of the day together, and by the time they returned to their homes, they were both exhausted but content.

As Maxwell lay in bed that night, he thought about Daniella and how much fun they had dancing together.

He couldn't wait to see her again and hopefully make their dance partnership more than just professional.

The International Tango Competition was being held in Venice, and Maxwell was determined to win.

He had never won a tango competition before, but this time was different. This time, he had the most amazing woman by his side.

Dancing with Daniella was effortless. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, and Maxwell knew that he was in love.

🎶🎶🕺💃🎶🎶

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents

[leiascully]

A fic I’ve wondered about…Mulder and Scully actually going to a movie together. Mostly because one of them lost a bet and has to go with the other to a movie of their choice. This happens early on in the partnership…Mulder makes Scully go to Jurassic Park. She nit picks the hell out of the science. So he, in a show of attempting to even the balance - he makes out he’s doing her a favour when really he just likes going out anywhere with Scully - he lets her pick the next one. She picks Sleepless in Seattle. The conversation after that one could lead….anywhere 🥰

Hmm, yes, excellent. I hope you wanted 2000 words of silliness because that's what's under the cut.

There’s a tap on her motel door. Scully twitches the curtains aside. It’s Mulder, slouching in jeans and a white t-shirt, looking like someone posed him against the background of lush summer green. She unhitches the chain and lets him in. Sticky-hot air rolls in after him, a humid swirl of honeysuckle and cut grass.

“How’s the report?”

She sighs and takes off her glasses. “The report is finished.” There wasn’t much to report, in the end: small town secrets, black light ghosts. All the evidence was there from the start, but the sheriff’s nephew was never going to be charged unless someone else stepped in. The only surprise was the support he got from the valedictorian, concocting hallucinogens in the high school chemistry lab. Then again, as a former nerdy teen girl, Scully understands the allure of the quarterback. Social cohesion is a powerful force. Maybe even more than broad shoulders, the girl was attracted to the idea of revenge.

Mulder, naturally, was blithely wry about it all. He’ll probably publish some esoteric paper on it in one of those poorly credentialed paranormal journals: the monstrous manifestation of adolescence, or something about the American tendency to manufacture visible hauntings as a way to deal with the invisible buried history of colonized land.

There are worse ways he could spend a Saturday night. At least he’s less likely to end up in the hospital.

“Dinner and a show?” he asks. “Since our flight isn’t until tomorrow morning.”

“In this town?” She crosses her arms, skeptical.

He produces two movie tickets. “Jurassic Park. Have you seen it yet?”

“I was going to go with my friend Ellen this weekend, but….” She shrugs. They’re here instead, chasing ghosts. “I think she went with her new boyfriend.”

“Got a purse?”

She pats around for it and finds it in a chair. “Yes, why?”

His eyes twinkle. “I said dinner and a show, Scully. Do you know how many McDonald’s hamburgers I can fit in a purse?”

“Mulder, no. I like this purse.” She clutches it to her. “Surely chicken nuggets would be easier.”

“You don’t want to be reminded of this night by a waft of eau de pickle every time you reach for your wallet?” Mulder’s grinning at her. She can’t resist him when he’s like this. Maybe it’s the lonely teen girl in her, the echo of jockishness in the set of his shoulders. He chooses her, patting the seat next to him at the metaphorical lunch table. Besides, he’s already bought the tickets.

“You’re carrying the ketchup,” she says, tilting her head back to look up at him. His grin broadens.

The bored teen at the box office lets them in, despite the waft of fry oil from her purse, which bulges with its contraband cargo. Mulder buys two sodas and a box of Junior Mints while she waits. The college girls at the concession stand eye him with a familiar mix of anxiety and intrigue. Scully’s seen it in every small town, and some of the bigger ones. There’s something rarefied around Mulder, an air of old money, maybe, or a New England vowel. He interests people; they resent that. He’s too obviously overeducated, charming in a way people don’t trust. Still, they’re drawn to him.

She leans on the half-wall that separates the concessions area from a couple of arcade machines and the hall that leads to the three theaters. The college girls’ eyes flick to her and then back to Mulder. There’s hair twirling involved as they hand him his change. Scully smiles to herself. Mulder drops the coins into his overstuffed pocket and saunters over to her, oblivious to the glares of the college girls. Scully shows the tickets to the usher, who rips them and points out the door to the middle theater, as if they could get lost.

The theater is mostly full. They pick seats in the middle - harder for the usher to pick them out in the crowd - and wait until the lights go down. Scully wedges her purse between her hip and the armrest. The food is still warm. They take turns dipping in and retrieving a nugget or a few fries. Mulder carefully applies ketchup from the torn corner of a packet before stuffing the fries in his mouth. In the flickering light from the screen, his lips are glossy with grease. It’s odd, feeling the pressure of his hand against her thigh when he roots around inside her purse, but it isn’t unpleasant.

“You know all of this is nonsense,” Scully murmurs as the animated DNA explains how the park’s team re-created the dinosaurs. “Absolute junk science. Even if you could extract genetic material from a sample like that, there’s no reason to believe it would be viable, no matter how many amphibians you spliced into it.”

“I always find a reason to believe,” Mulder whispers to her. “Come on, Scully, give in to the movie magic. It’s called science fiction, not science plausible.”

“Shhh!” says someone behind them.

Scully subsides until she can no longer contain herself. Mulder, recognizing her mood without looking, tilts his ear closer so that she can whisper to him. They get shushed again, and then again, derailing her sotto voce tirades about parthenogenesis and the feasibility of a theme park based around dinosaur habitats.

“Your wife has a lot to say!” Mulder’s neighbor tells him. It’s clearly intended to be a reprimand. Mulder pretends it’s a compliment. Scully subsides, chastised and defensive. If she doesn’t think too hard about it, the movie is entertaining. And if her knee presses into Mulder’s as the T. rex stomps toward the Jeep, neither of them acknowledges it.

They wait through the credits after the movie, letting the locals trickle out. The glares Scully is fielding now are different from the ones she got at the concession stand. She lifts her chin, defiant. Mulder stuffs their McDonald’s trash into their empty soda cups, concealing the evidence.

“I can’t believe you didn’t enjoy that,” Mulder says as they walk back toward the motel. The evening air is dotted with fireflies. A breeze rustles the leaves and pushes her hair over her forehead.

“I didn’t not enjoy it,” Scully tells him. “It just didn’t seem feasible.”

“Doctor Sattler reminded me of you,” Mulder says. He pushes his hands into his pockets. “Woman inherits the earth.”

“If only we could reproduce so easily on our own.” Scully cuts her eyes at Mulder. “You know, you remind me of Doctor Malcolm.”

“Why, Doctor Scully, I didn’t know you had a thing for bad boys.” She shoves at his arm with her shoulder and he chuckles. “What about me reminds you of him? Because I’m tall, dark, and handsome?”

She rolls her eyes. “Mostly it’s your love of chaos.”

“Mostly?”

“Mostly.” She smiles at him.

“So there’s a chance you think I’m irresistibly suave.” His voice is as velvety as the humid air.

“There’s a chance of a lot of things, Mulder.” She looks up at the night sky and savors the bitter freshness of the last Junior Mint. “Even dinosaurs.”

A few weeks later, they’re on the Texas coast, drafted into an anti-smuggling operation. There’s nothing supernatural about it - more than anything, they’re warm bodies in Kevlar vests. Scully doesn’t mind. Sometimes it’s satisfying to work on these task forces. There’s a clear resolution to cases like these: so many guns seized, so many tons of cocaine destroyed, so much cash pulled out of hidden stashes. It’s clear-cut who the bad guys are, and she doesn’t have to write the reports.

“Dinner and a show?” she says to Mulder as the other agents eddy around them. They’re rarely invited along to drinks when they’re assigned to these things, but she doesn’t necessarily enjoy being the only woman in the group anyway.

“Anything with air conditioning,” he says.

They eat at a seafood restaurant that’s nearly a shack. The seafood boil comes in plastic bags they have to rip open. It’s some of the best shrimp Scully has ever had, and the corn on the cob is as sweet and blisteringly hot as the last days of summer. She licks butter off her fingers and watches Mulder crack crab claws.

The theater here is bigger: eight screens instead of three. Scully buys two tickets for Sleepless in Seattle and presents them to Mulder. He raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t know if I took you for the rom-com type, Scully.”

“I don’t want to get shushed again.” She gives him a sideways glance. “At least we all agree this is going to be unrealistic.”

Mulder sighs and shakes his head. “So beautiful. So cynical.” Before she can figure out how to respond to that, he’s off to the concession stand again, this time returning with Dots wedged into one back pocket and Sno-Caps in the other. He hands her a soda as they go in the theater. The sides of the cup are already faintly damp with condensation. The theater itself is like an icebox, air conditioning whistling.

They sit in the back row this time, near a bunch of teenagers who already have their arms slung against each other. Mulder rolls his eyes, but there’s a nostalgic smile on his face. Scully wonders how many girls he sat in dark theaters with, focused on something other than the movie. He cups her hand and shakes Sno-Caps into her palm. She eats them one by one. They aren’t shushed this time. She almost misses the excuse to lean against him. By the time the movie is over, her feet are tingling with cold. Pushing out the doors into the muggy air is almost a relief.

“Hit me with your best shot, Scully.” Mulder takes her cup to toss it into the trash. “I assume I don’t remind you of lovable widower Tom Hanks.”

“I don’t know why she left Walter,” Scully says. “It seemed cruel. All because her life wasn’t like a movie?”

Mulder scoffs. “You wouldn’t stay with a guy like that.”

“A guy with allergies?”

“A guy who didn’t excite you,” Mulder says. “You wouldn’t settle for safe.”

Scully tips her face to look up at him. “Wouldn’t I?”

Mulder spreads his hands. “Picket fence, 9 to 5, 2.5 kids and Sunday dinner with the family - you like the sound of it, but you’d get bored. Face it, Scully, you’re a creature of the night now. You’ve got that wild urge in your soul. You’d be baying at the moon if you were stuck in that kind of life.”

“And lovable widower Tom Hanks would provide that?”

“No,” he says. “Ian Malcolm might, though.”

She rolls her eyes. “And how much do you charge for this astute psychoanalysis, Doctor Mulder?”

He taps his lower lip with one finger and scans around them. “Two scoops of mint chocolate chip.” He points to the glowing sign down the street depicting an anthropomorphic ice cream creature. Locals are clustered in groups around a walk-up window like moths around a lamp, sipping at floats and licking drippy cones.

Scully feels a rush of nostalgia for the summers of her youth. The salt air, the long twilight: she can’t help remembering. It’s a sweet little ache under her sternum, and it gets sharper when she looks at Mulder. He’s clearly pleased with himself. “I think I can swing that, as long as you’re not angling for a banana split.”

“What about one malt with two straws?” He winks at her.

“Don’t push your luck,” she grumbles.

But she thinks about it as the moon hangs heavy overhead, and she’s glad she can blame her flushed cheeks on the heat.

[princessbrunette]

pls write some scenarios about dad!JJ pleaseeeee🥰

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

thinking about jj with a baby girl who’s just started to talk properly, and she’s constantly repeating things she hears you say which just melts jj’s heart:(

jj’s in the kitchen fixing himself a snack whilst his daughter sits in her chair watching him, chit chatting away when he accidentally nicks himself with the knife using to chop his sandwich ingredients.

“fuuu—ouch.” the blonde glances over his shoulder, making sure the toddler didn’t pick up on his near bad language (he has the occasional slip up, which always gets him in trouble with you!)

“you must be more careball!” the chubby cheeked child furrows her brow, an exact replica of you, expression and all. jj’s lip quirks up and he turns around to face her, eyes twinkling in amusement.

“what’d you say, kiddo?”

“must be careball, jayj.” she repeats the nickname you call him, her toddler brain concluding that in order to get him to listen to her seriously she must imitate you. jj grins, shaking his head in disbelief.

“you sound just like your mama, you know that?” he tilts his head, pushing off the counter to walk to her and pick her up, placing her on his hip and pressing a big kiss to the chub of her cheek.

“mama say jayj.” she clarifies and he nods, whipping his hat off his head and placing it backwards on hers.

“yes she do.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[asarajaa]

hi sarah 🥰

it’s so hard to find regular blue lock writers omg

can i make a request? it’s alright if you can’t tho

can i request the reader meeting chigiri’s mother and sister after the u20 match? i feel like it’d be so funny bc they kinda embarrassed him during the match by calling out to him lmao 😭

imagine him getting embarrassed by them in front of his gf (who they didn’t know about until they saw her at the u20 match, she’s like the manager of bllk) and he tries to drag her away but ends up getting teased by his sister 🥰

Hii, ikr? I'm dying to find a good bllk ffc author 😩

Just woke up, had breakfast and went straight on it 🫡

Hope you like it!

Warnings: Implied fem!reader Words: 627 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

The stadium buzzed with excitement as the U-20 match between Blue Lock and their rivals reached its climax. Chigiri's performance on the field was incredible, his skill and determination evident with every move. Meanwhile, in the stands, you watched intently, the official manager of Blue Lock, cheering on the team you had grown so close to.

As the match concluded with Blue Lock's victory, the players celebrating in the field with the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd as background. You couldn't be more proud of them, a bunch of teenager boys- your teenager boys- just win against profesional team. Chigiri, in the middle of celebreting his win with his teamates, locked eyes with you.

You smiled brightly, so brightly that your watery eyes were half-closed by your big smile. Chigiri start running at your spot in the stands, ready to start a conversation with you.

"Hey, we win" he said breathlessly, a broad smile on his face as he reached you.

"I know, baby! You did it so well I'm so proud of you!" you replied with enthusiasm, jumping to give him a big bear hug. "You guys did it! You guys won- and you're my guys! My boyfriend just won against Japans u-20!

Chigiri just laughed as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.

Before your conversation could continue, a voice interrupted from behind. "Chigiri!"

Letting you down, you turned around and you saw a woman approaching, her features mirroring Chigiri's in a softer, maternal way. Beside her was a younger girl, who bore a striking resemblance to Chigiri.

"Mom, Sis," Chigiri exclaimed, a mix of delight and apprehension in his voice.

His mother's eyes twinkled with pride. "You were amazing out there, sweetie! We're so proud of you."

Chigiri's sister nodded in agreement, but whe her gaze shifted to you she grinned mischievously. "And who's this? You're not gonna introduce her to us?" she asked, her tone playful.

Chigiri's cheeks reddened slightly. "Uh, this is y/n," he introduced, glancing at you nervous but happily. "She's the team manager... and my girlfriend." He ended up with a big soft smile

Both his mother and sister looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh, we didn't know you had a girlfriend!" his mother exclaimed, her smile widening.

"And a beautiful one!" his sister continued while she gave you a smile. "Damn, Chigiri," she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You never told us you had such good taste in girlfriends."

Chigiri's embarrassment finally showed, and he tried to subtly nudge you away. "Mom, Sis-please." he muttered.

Chigiri's face turned an even brighter shade of red, much to the amusement of his family. You couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

"It's a pleasure finally meeting you, Chigiri has told me a lot of things about you." You decided to step in, giving them a little but a respectful bow.

His mother beamed. "Well, it's lovely to finally meet you too. You must come over for dinner sometime."

"Who knew that the boy who used to make dance shows for his family would get a girlfriend? Where did our little singer, dancer and hairdresser go huh?" His sister said teasing.

Chigiri shot you an imploring look, silently begging for some form of rescue. But his sister only grinned wider, clearly enjoying her older brother's predicament.

As you exchanged pleasantries with Chigiri's family, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this young man who had captured your heart. Despite his embarrassment, seeing him interact with his loved ones-and knowing you're one of them made your heart skipped a beat- filled you with warmth. Maybe, just maybe, these unexpected family encounters would be a new chapter in your relationship with Chigiri—a chapter that both of you will be expecting with enthusiasm.

Idk what I just write, I did my best so here you go :)

Please, feel free so send more request! I have a whole month free 'cause I'm getting recovered from a surgery so I have a lot of time.

26/04/24

© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.

[jobean12-blog]

Reunited

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Pre!Outbreak Joel/Friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2,453

Summary: You, Joel and Tommy have been friends since you’re teenagers and you’ve always had a crush on Tommy’s older brother but he never saw you that way but now that’s Tommy’s getting married and Joel’s been back in town you can’t help but feel that familiar rush whenever he’s around and when he asks you to be his date to the wedding how could you say no? 

Author’s Note: After all the Met Gala footage of Pedro and his amazing outfit and just his hotness all around I kept thinking of him being all dressed up for a wedding or something and I was able to use one of the fun prompts from @the-slumberparty ‘s May Challenge- it’s bolded in the fic. Thank you all so much for reading, much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you sweets! 🥰

Warnings: lots of fun and flirting, Joel is a big flirt and always has been but he’s still soft and now he knows what he wants...it’s s-e-x-y and there’s definitely some tension. 

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @a7estrellas thank you so much lovely 🥰

Joel Miller Masterlist

“I can’t believe you’re getting married this weekend,” you scoff before taking a sip of your drink.

You elbow Tommy playfully and note the way Joel purses his lips to stop his laughter, his eyes trained on you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy drawls. “I can’t either.”

The three of you share a laugh before the server appears and sets down your meals.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Tommy asks Joel through a mouthful.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,�� Joel says, directing his compliment your way and ignoring Tommy’s comment.

You stare at Joel. “Thanks.”

Joel’s eyes twinkle with your unresponsiveness.

“Aren’t you going to compliment me?” Joel teases.

“Why? Do you have self-esteem issues that need stroking?”

Joel’s eyebrows hit his hairline at the same time Tommy groans.

“Don’t you dare make some dirty comment Joel…I swear to…” Tommy starts to chide but thankfully, the server appears to check in and interrupts the moment.

Joel chuckles but continues holding your gaze, leaning over the table toward you.

“You’ve got a little somethin’,” he starts, reaching his hand up to your face, “just there.”

He gently swipes his thumb at the corner of your mouth before sticking it between his lips and licking it clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m going to punch you in the face if you don’t stop flirting,” Tommy sighs. “Please, for fucks sake, I just want to eat my meal without wantin’ to vomit.”

“My flirting isn’t that bad,” Joel huffs as he settles back in his seat. “Is it darlin’?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s and you blink vapidly. “Oh, was that flirting? I thought you just had a staring problem.”

Tommy snorts and you shoot him a grin.

“I do have a staring problem,” Joel says, “but only around you sweetheart. It’s impossible not to look at you.”

You stare impassively back at Joel before you look past him and out the window.

“Beautiful day. I hope you and Maria get the same tomorrow Tommy.”

“Beautiful indeed,” Joel murmurs, seeming to memorize your face.

Tommy groans again. “Shit. You’re a pain in my ass brother. I need a drink.”

“Wow he laid it on thick,” your friend Jess says, her face scrunched up in thought. “But you’ve always said he was a flirt.”

“When we were teenagers he would flirt with everything and anything,” you snort. “Apparently nothing has changed. I can’t believe I agreed to be his date.”

“Do you think he knows…?” Jess muses, her eyes widening.

“No!” you say quickly. “How could he know I’ve had a crush on him since we were teenagers. He’s been in and out of my life for years and now all of a sudden he moves back and and…”

“Well at least he’s still hot,” Jess finishes, her eyes twinkling.

You roll yours but agree with a muttered, “very.”

“I think I’m just about done,” she says, looking you over.

You turn to the mirror and study your reflection, smoothing your hands over your body and the figure-hugging dress.

“You’re the best,” you say when your eyes find your friends. “Thank you for helping me get ready.”

The large reception hall is adorned with round tables draped with white tablecloths, lantern centerpieces, and twinkling lights galore. The dance floor shines under all the brightness and the air smells of fresh flowers.

“Have I mentioned you look stunnin’ darlin’,” Joel whispers along your ear as he escorts you to your seat.

“Just about a million times,” you say with a giggle. “Ever the charmer.”

“Only for you,” he says while he waits for you to sit.

You give him a look of utter disbelief and he smiles slightly, a sexy, lopsided smirk that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

The volume of the music decreases followed by the tinkle of silverware against glass. Joel stands to engage the guests and his gaze flickers to you before he addresses Tommy and Maria.

His speech draws both laughter and some tears and when he sits, your eyes lock, his expression softer than you have ever seen before.

“How did I do?” he asks quietly as soft music starts to play.

“Perfect,” you tell him honestly. “You nailed it.”

He gives you a genuine smile and reaches for your hand, covering it with his. “Thanks.”

With your free hand you reach for his face, the prickle of his beard scratching your palm as your gazes hold. He shifts in your caress, his lips finding your palm in a sweet kiss.

The moment is broken when the music picks up and Maria comes over to pull you onto the dance floor. You give Joel a wave before disappearing into the crowd of moving bodies.

Just as your feet start to ache from dancing the lights lower and a slow song comes on. You sigh in relief and let go of Maria’s hand, smiling brightly before motioning to your feet and turning to walk back to your seat.

“Going somewhere darlin’?”

“Oof,” you mutter when you run smack into Joel’s chest, your palms falling to his broad shoulders.

He raises a questioning brow.

“I was going to sit. My feet hurt,” you explain.

“Do you think you could suffer through one more dance just for me?” he asks softly.

“I mean,” you sigh dramatically. “I’d be suffering anyway so…”

He throws his head back with a laugh and takes you in his arms, twirling you back out onto the dance floor.

You settle into his embrace and when he pulls you against him your lips part in surprise as your body molds to his.

After some comfortable silence he smiles wickedly. “You don’t seem like you’re suffering.”

“You’re a good dancer,” you admit quietly.

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he replies, tugging you ever closer.

“Still not flirting though,” you tease in the hopes of covering up your real reaction.

The music blurs into the background and all you can sense is him, all you can smell is his skin. His dark eyes glint with more than just a hint of desire and you feel a tingle shoot down your spine. The air becomes thick with tension and you find it hard to breathe.

His eyes drop to your lips and his grip tightens. The hand you’re resting on his shoulder moves higher, your fingertips ghosting along his jaw before they slide through the soft hair at the back of his neck. He brings his face closer, his nose grazing the spot just under your ear and you gasp his name.

The song ends and the DJ’s voice booms over the speakers, announcing the start of some much more upbeat music. It effectively pulls you from your haze and he releases you only enough to usher you off the dance floor.

He tucks you into his side and keeps his hand securely on your hip and you place your hand on his stomach, cuddling into him.

You give him a soft smile as he pulls out your chair before asking if you want a drink.

You watch him saunter up to the bar and try to ignore the butterflies that flutter wildly in your stomach.

“He’s just a flirt,” you remind yourself.

As if on cue a woman you don’t recognize plasters herself to his side at the bar, pushing into his personal space. Joel gives her a look of acknowledgement before hailing the bartender. You can’t pull your eyes away and when her hand lands on his forearm and she bats her lashes you clench your fist under the table.

She’s clearly coming on to him and although he isn’t giving her much attention it still makes you feel that unwelcome twinge in your gut, one you felt many times before when you were younger and had a silly crush.

But you’re an adult now. And he’s single. You have no right to be jealous.

But when he smiles and laughs at something she says you feel your skin heat and without a second thought you abruptly stand from the table in search of some space.

You’re just closing the door to one of the bridal rooms when you hear it push open and swivel toward the sound.

You take a step backward as Joel slips inside and closes it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his expression filled with concern. “Are you ok?”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him. His tuxedo jacket fits like a second skin, his broad shoulders and chest filling out the material so it strains every time he moves. His dark hair is styled in a messy but oh so sexy way that makes your hands itch to feel it between your fingers and the hair that lines his cheeks is dusted with gray that only makes him more appealing.

“Now who’s the one that’s starin’ darlin’?”

His cheeky grin falls when your brow furrows and your eyes drop.

He steps closer and holds out his hands.

“Who was that woman at the bar?” you ask, still keeping your eyes downcast.

“What woma….?” He stops before finishing the question and closes the distance between you,

“I don’t even know her name,” he whispers as he tucks his fingers under your chin. “And I left her standing there as soon as I saw you run off.”

You meet his gaze and the cocky playfulness that usually fills his eyes is gone, replaced by something softer but still simmering with unbridled heat.

“Oh,” you say, swallowing audibly.

“Jealous sweetheart?” he asks, the smug look returning but only in jest.

If there was enough space between your bodies you would cross your arms over your chest but since you can’t you lift your chin defiantly instead and mutter, “you wish Joel.”

“Actually,” he says, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping so you can feel his breath tickle your skin. “I do.”

“But you never showed interest when we were kids,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady under his ministrations. “Why now?”

“You were always off limits,” he says. “Tommy’s best friend and I was never good enough.”

“That’s not true,” you say with as much power as you can muster. “I’ve always wanted you but you were always too busy with…”

“Don’t,” he says, stilling his movements. “I was young. Stupid…but now I know exactly what I want.”  

His whispered words caress the shell of your ear and you press yourself harder against him, turning your head so your lips brush.

Your eyelashes are just fluttering against your cheeks and his hands tighten around your waist when you hear your name called loudly from outside.

“Shit,” you hiss, pulling away to look at him.

You hear your name again.

“I need to go.”

You rush out of his arms and out the door, seeing one of the bridesmaids motioning for you to follow her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of dancing and drinks, your body always hyperaware of Joel’s lingering touches. He’s never far from your side and although his flirting is more subtle and less supercilious, he doesn’t let up.

Joel offers to drive you home at the end of the night, arguing that there’s no reason you should be taking a car this late. You give in under his pestering and take his outstretched hand as he leads you to his pickup.

“I really could have taken a car,” you mutter. “You must be tired and now you’ll have to drive all the way back to your place from mine.”

Joel stops walking just as you’re inches from his truck and he spins you around, hauling you into his body and backing you up until you’re pressed against the door.

You gasp in shock but the sound is cut off by his mouth on yours and when his hand slides down your curves and he tucks it just under your ass to pull you deeper into him, you let out a moan, his own sound of need rumbling down this throat.

His hand comes around your front and he feels for the open slit of your dress, his fingers fumbling with the silky material until he feels your warm skin beneath his.

“All night,” he murmurs. “All fuckin’ night I’ve had to think about what’s underneath this dress and every time I got a glimpse of this gorgeous skin…”

He pulls away to breathe, his chest brushing yours with his pants. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Joel,” you whisper and his eyes fly to yours.

“Take me home.”

He bites out another string of curses before he kisses you again, only pulling away so he can help you into the truck, his eyes studying your body, lingering on the silk where it clings to your every curve.

The blood rushes through your ears as you step into your house, Joel’s large hand splayed across the door as he holds it open for you.

“I can make some coffee,” you offer as soon as the door shuts behind you.

You kick off your shoes and stroll into the kitchen, keeping your back to Joel as you move about to fill the coffee machine and get mugs.

“How do you take…OH!”

You startle, turning your head to look at him as he cradles your hips and presses you into the counter.

“Oh,” you say again, this time breathless at the feel of him.

One hand slides up your arm, slow and purposeful, until he reaches your neck and his fingers dance along the delicate column then cup your jaw, tilting your head back so he can kiss you.

“Joel.” You break the kiss for air, trembling when his hand smooths down your stomach.

“You don’t want coffee?”

“No. I just want you darlin’.”

He takes both your hands and places your palms flat on the kitchen counter.

“Stay just like that,” he orders.

You nod, your skin burning with anticipation.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on you,” he murmurs as he reaches for the bottom of your dress, smoothing it upward until it’s bunched around your waist. He steps back to take in the sight of you before carefully dragging down your panties, stopping at your knees.

Your legs can only part so far with the fabric wrapped around them and it makes you pant with need as he caresses every inch of skin he can, his breathing becoming shallow the more of you he touches.

You whine his name and wiggle your ass against him, loving the growl you feel reverberate in his chest.

“Look at me.”

You tilt your head upward, meeting his burning gaze.

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” he says with a wicked grin.

@justkinsey​ @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @sstan-hoe​ @blackwidownat2814 @pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @rvjaa​ @littleseasiren​

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Could you do BrattyBottom!Larissa x Top!Fem!Tall!Reader where she pushes reader to get fucked all day but has no clue how much she's in for until the reader fucks Larissa till she can't form a single coherent word, nothing but moans, screams and whimpers, with aftercare of Larissa getting doted on like she whole heartedly deserves?

Heyyyyy anon!!! Yeaaaa, this was so much fun to write! We love some Sub!’Rissa content 🥰💖

Careful What You Wish For ~BrattyBottom!Larissa Weems xFem Top!Tall!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, bratting, d!ck riding, desk fucking, spanking, pet names, pet name kink, bratting kink, praise kink, degrading kink, spanking kink, overstimulation, aftercare, etc.

Enjoy (;

It was no surprise to anyone at the school when they found out about you and Larissa. You were both professional, well mannered women. You both were logical and even keeled (although Larissa did a have a slight temper at times). You were both outcasts within outcasts. Her being a shapeshifter and you being a telepath.

Although, Larissa had to admit, it did bother her just how even keeled and balanced you seemed to be… She appreciated and loved you and your qualities but there was just no knocking you off your game…

That little bratty side of Larissa nagged her constantly about this fact. And on one particular day, Larissa gave into her temptations. She had to see. See how far she could push you. When you would crack. If you would crack.

Larissa started simple, she wore a slightly too revealing dress that showed just the right amount of cleavage. But as you walked into her office that morning, all she got from you was a mere glance to her tits and a “nice dress, is it new?”.

Larissa huffed as you left her office. Fine. She would just have to up her game.

Throughout the day, Larissa made sure to push all her comments and words to you in her (usually only used in the bedroom) bratty tone. She whined and pouted. She whispered scandalous things into your ear in the dining hall. And much more… Many sinful things more…

But she elicited not a single reaction from you. It was beginning to frustrate Larissa. So she stepped it up yet again.

Now it came from lingering touches to actively scandalous physical displays. She dance her fingers around any body part of yours she could access. She ran her fingers through your hair. She wrapped her arm around your torso. She even smacked your ass at one point outside her office.

And you did nothing?! Larissa didn’t even get a single blush from you. By the end of the day, all that was left was a staff meeting. This was Larissa’s last chance. And she was going to go out swinging.

~~~

You found the staff meeting to be particularly boring, but you still listened as each teacher ran through their quarterly reports. That was until you caught a very interesting thought of the blonde sitting across from you…

God, can’t this meeting just end… I’d much rather be fucking you on the table, darling…

You glanced over to Larissa to see her sitting there pretending to listen but with a small smirk on her face. She knew you had caught her thought. You took a breath and turned your attention back to Marilyn, who was currently presenting.

I’d fuck you in front of everyone here… Let them know how much I own you…

You decided to just ignore Larissa. That’s what you had been doing with all her antics today. But you bet your ass that she was going to pay for ever antic later… She just didn’t know it yet…

Do you think our colleagues would get turned on as I fucked you on this table…? I bet you’d love for me to whore you out to some of them… Marilyn perhaps…?

You were drinking from your glass of water when you heard that one, and it took everything in you not to spurt the water out all over the table. You glanced back over to Larissa to find her eyes twinkling with mischief and lust.

If I had it my way, I’d tie you to the table and let everyone take turns with you… God, I’d bet you’d love that… And I’d sit right here and watch the entire time…

You took another deep breath. You had lasted from her bratting all day and you weren’t about to break now…

Fuck, it’s turning me on just thinking about it… I’m already touching myself to simply the thought of it…

She must be bluffing. She had to be bluffing. She wasn’t allowed to touch herself without your permission. You let your eyes wander over to her figure, and sure enough… You could tell from her face… She was most definitely pleasuring herself.

Fuuuck, I’d love if you slammed me onto this table and fucked me in front of everyone… Your so strong and tall, I’m sure you could manage it… Ohhhh God, I’m… I’m close…

You swore you could smell her arousal, and Larissa face was scrunching up like it always did when she was on edge. She better not cum…

OhHhhH shit, baby fuuuuuck…!

She fucking came. That bratty bitch. You sat there simply stunned. You didn’t even look at her. You could tell simply from her thoughts. You were fuming. You had fucking had it.

The meeting ended soon after Larissa’s stunt, and you packed up your things and went directly to Larissa’s office. Luckily, you had beaten Larissa to her office. You threw your things aside and took of your heels. You threw off your shirt and took off your belt, leaving you in your bra and trousers

She needed to be taught a lesson and no, it couldn’t wait.

You then sat yourself in Larissa’s chair and waited for your lover to return. And pretty soon, the tall blonde entered her office, only to find her lover leaning back in her chair, top off and with a belt in hand. Larissa’s eyes lit up in anticipation that her plan had actually worked. You tilted your head and wickedly smirked at the blonde. And the look in your eyes made Larissa’s stomache drop.

“Hello love…” you purred with a sharp edge to your tone.

“Darling…” Larissa purred with the same bratty tone she’s been using all day and with the same bratty twinkle in her eyes, “May I ask what you are doing in my chair?”

You chuckled at her playing coy, but you were done with her games.

“Shut the door.”

“Darling, I have a parent call in 20 minutes…”

“Shut. The. Door. And don’t you dare think about locking it…” you gritted out.

Larissa gulped. She shut the door, before coming back over to you, towering over your sitting form.

You stood up to face her, “I’d call you a good girl, but you’ve been anything but.” your tone stoic and dominating.

Shivers went through Larissa’s spine as you met her height even with your heels off. Your height made her knees weak.

“You’ve come under the wrong impression that you get to tell everyone how much of a slut you are. But if that’s what you want, then we’ll properly show the school how much of a whore you are…” you sneered, “Take that slutty dress off.”

Larissa’s breath hitched at your change in tone and she was quick to follow your instructions. As she stripped, you sat back down on her chair. Larissa was now standing in front of you, completely naked.

“Bend over on my lap, you pathetic little brat.”

“Yes Ma’am…” Larissa whimpered, bending over your lap and sticking her ass up to you instinctually.

Larissa mentally prepared herself for you hand, but she was met with something else…

Smack!

Larissa whimpered out in pain and a hint of pleasure as your belt had made contact with her soft and supple ass.

“Count. And each spank, you’re going to tell me just how bratty you’ve been today.” you commanded the blonde.

“Yes Ma’am…” Larissa gasped out.

Crack!

“One, Ma’am…!” She mewled, “I’m sorry for wearing that dress…!!”

“Ah yes, such a slutty dress…” you tauntingly purred.

Whack!

“Two Ma’am!” She whimpered, “I’m sorry for all the things I said…!”

“And with such a bratty tone…” you tutted.

Smack!

~~~

By fifteen spankings, Larissa’s eyes were watery and her wetness was glistening down her thighs.

“Such a good girl in taking your punishments…” you purred, caressing her reddened ass with your hand.

Larissa whimpered in response to you sooothing her sensitive ass.

“But you were such a brat…” you tutted.

You then moved Larissa to straddle your waist, in which Larissa spent no time in grinding against your trousers. But her eyes widened when she felt a certain bulge.

“Your packing…?” She whispered.

A devilish glint twinkled in your eye, “Yes my love, I’m packing…”

Larissa gulped. You never wore your dick ahead of time unless Larissa was in trouble.

“Sit on the edge of the desk.” You told the blonde.

As Larissa did so, you removed your trousers and underwear to reveal the largest strap you owned. Larissa’s eyes widened even more and her throat went dry.

“Let’s see if we can fuck that brattyness out of you, hmm??” You tauntingly purred, “Come ride my dick, sweet slut…”

Larissa gulped and nodded slightly. She straddled you on the chair and lined up her soaked entrance to your dick. But she hesitated and looked up to you.

“I… Ma’am…? I don’t think… I can fit…” Larissa practically whispered, her face turning red in embarrassment.

“Oh baby…” you slid into Larissa as you spoke, “We’ll make you fit…”

Larissa’s breath hitched and her whole body exploded with sparks as she sunk down on you.

“It’s… Its so much… Ma’am please…” Larissa whimpered.

“Shhhh, relax sweet slut… take what your given like a good girl…” you purred into the blondes ear, as you began thrusting up into Larissa.

Larissa immediately reacted by meeting your thrusts and spewing out whimpers and mewls in response. You placed your hands on her hips and guided Larissa up and down your length at an even quicker pace.

“OhHhHHh Fuck Ma’am… feels so good don’t stop please… so full…” Larissa moaned out.

“Oh my, my poor slut can’t even make sentences even more…?” you taunted.

~~~

You continued to thrust into the blonde, quickly turning your thrusts into thorough pounding. By now, Larissa was crying and screaming out in pleasure. She’d already cum twice and you weren’t letting up.

“FUCK please too much!! Oh GOD YES…!!” Larissa screamed as she was quickly approaching her third climax.

But suddenly the desk phone rang…

Larissa’s eyes widened as she realized about the parent conference. She tried to stop and grab the phone but you continued to pound into her.

“Nun uh… You’re going to stay right here, bouncing on my cock, while you talk to those innocent parents… on speaker.” you wickedly purred.

Larissa whimpered as she reached to grab the phone which was still ringing. She clicked the answer button as well as the speaker. But before she could say anything, you had latched your lips into one of her nipples.

“Uh… yes hello this is… this is Larissa Weems…” Larissa chocked out, trying to contain her moans and cries of pleasure.

“Hi there principal weems, this is Mrs. Sinclair! I was calling for the quarterly parent conference about Enid.” The phone on the voice spoke.

You had found a new angle in which to pound into the blonde, which made it even harder for Larissa to think coherently, let alone respond.

“AhHh, yes. Miss Sinclair! Well… fuck… what would you like… to know…?” Larissa groaned.

Larissa quickly hit the mute button and met your gaze.

“I’m close please M’mmm gonna cum please can I please…??” Larissa cried out, as you continued to pound into her.

“Unmute yourself and you may cum…” you purred.

Larissa bit her lip nervously and unmuted the phone. She came and quickly muffled her screams in your neck, as her walls clenched around your dick for the third time.

In doing so, Larissa had missed everything what Mrs. Sinclair had said. This is when you stepped in.

“I’m sorry, but can Ms. Weems call you back? Thank you so much for understanding.” You said before hanging up the phone.

You then quickly took Larissa off your dick, making her whimper from the sensitivity. You turned her around and guided her to lean over her desk.

“Ma’am…?” Larissa pled, “Ma’am please… too much I’m sorry please…” as her ass wiggled in anticipation.

“Color, ‘Rissa?”

“Green…” she whimpered.

“good girl…” you purred, before sliding into her sensitive cunt yet again.

But you didn’t move. Not yet.

“Tell me what you what, sweet slut…” you purred.

“GOD fuck me please fuck me!!” She screamed.

And you happily obliged…

~~~

You’d fucked Larissa so thoroughly that once you’d finally pulled out of the blonde, she was nothing but moans, whimpers, and screams. She had collapsed on the desk while you removed your strap, and then came back over to your lover.

“Hey baby, you ok…?” You caringly purred, cupping her cheek.

Larissa hummed and nodded lightly. You chuckled at how fucked out she was.

“I’ll be right back, ok baby?” You cooed, leaving the room and going to grab a warm washcloth.

When you got back, Larissa was still in the same position and trembling slightly.

“Can I clean you up, love…?”

Larissa nodded.

“I didn’t go too far did I? How about a bath after this?”

Larissa smiled lightly and nodded again.

Once you had cleaned the majority of her thighs and legs, you carried the blonde into her private bathroom, and drew a bath for the two of you.

You carefully placed Larissa in the warm water, when Larissa lightly grabbed you causing you to fall in the bath with her with your undergarments still on.

You both laughed at Larissa’s efforts to have you join her. Larissa immediately snuggled into your arms with a slight smirk on her face.

“Maybe I didn’t fuck the brattyness completely out of you, hmmm?” you teased.

Larissa shrugged lightly before dozing off in your arms.

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: Azriel meets Elain’s new boyfriend at Nyx’s birthday party. Graysen has some questions about Elain’s “friend.”

Word Count: 4.4K

Missed the first three chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: chapter four already!! Thank you to everyone that’s read this fic and commented or interacted in anyway! I’ve had the loveliest messages come through and it’s been such a joy to chat with you guys about this. I’m a little extra nervous to post this chapter, please keep in mind that this is a bit of a slow burn and we must suffer a little before we get our reward. Alternate title is “Graysen Slander (Azriel’s version)”

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Flying back home to Velaris had caused Elain a level of anxiety that had previously been unknown to her.

There used to be a time where she enjoyed seeing her city from the birds-eye-view of an airplane window. She loved to look down and admire the twinkling lights on either side of the sprawling river that split her hometown in half. She liked to scan the buildings as they came into view and point out each place that held a space of her heart because of the special memories attached.

There was her elementary school, the movie theater parking lot where she had her first kiss, and her favourite library. There was the ice-cream shop located a few blocks from their childhood home that she and her sisters would sneak out to at all hours of the night for their cookie dough fix, not bothering to change out of their robes and slippers. She’d look out for the small park where she and Nesta spent their Saturday’s sprawled in the grass, reading books and gossiping. Her heart ached as she spotted the rose and sculpture garden she and Azriel liked to stroll through early on Sunday mornings, hot cups of coffee warming their hands as they walked and talked, Azriel leaning in close to tell Elain that the roses there had nothing on the ones that she grew in her garden.

She hadn’t bothered to point any of those places out to Graysen as their flight had made its descent. Hadn't really felt the need or desire to share those parts of herself with him. She’d just sat quietly, staring straight at her own reflection in the little screen in front of her as she took deep breaths to try and ease the rapid beating of her heart.

Her anxiety had calmed a little once they’d landed and disembarked, emerging from their gate to Nyx’s loud squeal of her name which brought her back to reality just in time for her to drop her bags and catch his tiny body as he ran towards her at full speed and flung himself into her outstretched arms. 

“Hi, baby!” She’d hugged him tight, overwhelmed by just how much she’d missed him.

“Hi, Lain!” Nyx giggled, his little face tucked tight against her neck.

She hadn’t questioned the nickname, one her nephew had never called her before, because she had been too distracted breathing in the scent of his hair - the scent of the same watermelon shampoo that her mother had used during bath time when she and her sisters were kids. It was comforting and familiar and exactly what she needed to push past the worry that had rendered her useless for the past few hours.. 

The initial introductions had gone as well as she could’ve hoped.

Graysen had defaulted back to the easy charm that he’d used back in the day to talk Elain into a drink and it seemed to work on Feyre and Rhys well enough that the drive back to their house and the late dinner that followed were easy and painless. The only hiccup was that Nyx refused to even greet Graysen and had thrown him the most menacing looks he could muster up each time Graysen so much as attempted to hold Elain’s hand. 

“He’s jealous,” Feyre had laughed nervously, embarrassed by her son’s behavior after he’d insisted on sitting next to Elain at dinner. “He’s always been a little territorial when it comes to her and since he hasn’t seen her in a few months…” 

Graysen had laughed it off but Elain had caught the annoyance in his demeanor at the idea of having to share her. Even if the person he was sharing her with was just her soon-to-be five year old nephew. 

Elain’s anxiety returned in full force the next afternoon when guests began to arrive for Nyx’s party. No amount of rearranging balloons or organising the treat station could keep her attention off the front door each and every time it opened. It was only a matter of time before he showed up and the wait was torture. In the years she’d known Azriel, he’d never once missed an important event when it came to his friends and there was no way he’d start now. 

“So…” Nesta appeared next to her suddenly, head cocked to the side as she leant against the table and watched in amusement as Elain straightened the goodie bags for the seventh or eighth time that hour. “Graysen seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Elain nodded, not bothering to look up from the little cellophane bags full of treats that she’d been busying herself with for the last ten minutes. She didn’t need to look at Nesta to know her true feelings. She could hear it in her voice. “He’s great.” 

“He’s very… passionate.” Her sister studied her nails as she fought to hold back the teasing smile that played on her lips.  “About work. And golf. And work. And his car… Did I mention his work? Because he certainly did.” 

“Okay, okay.” Elain groaned, casting a fleeting glance across the room where Graysen was still chatting to Rhysand. 

She sent a thank you to the universe that Feyre had married a man that had the talent and patience to talk to absolutely anyone. She couldn’t say the same for Cassian, who had quickly maneuvered out of that conversation and over to the backyard to terrorize the kids, instead. 

“He just loves his job,” Elain shrugged, finally turning to face her sister. 

Nesta raised a perfectly manicured brow, fixing Elain with a pointed look. “You mean he loves money.” 

There was a reason Elain had never introduced a boy to her family and the reason was standing directly in front of her, all perfectly coiffed hair and dangerous eyes. Feyre could find a way to see the good in anyone and the boys would say they were okay with whoever Elain dated as long as she was happy. But Nesta - Nesta had always had a knack for seeing straight through any of Elain’s lies and she’d never been afraid to call her out when necessary. It was a quality Elain had come to appreciate from time to time but she didn’t appreciate it today.

“I mean… he does work in finance.” 

“Elain.” Another pointed look was thrown in her direction.

“Nesta.” 

“He looks like he pays more for a haircut than I do.” 

“Nesta!” Elain hit her sister on the arm, unable to stifle the laugh that bubbled to the surface. She knew exactly how much Graysen paid for his hair cuts and Nesta was right. “He’s nice.”

“You know who’s nicer...” Nesta said it under her breath but Elain heard her loud and clear. 

“Stop,” Elain lowered her voice. “Please. You promised.”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell the boys and I haven’t,” she replied without missing a beat. “I never promised we wouldn’t talk about it at all.” 

“Nesta, please. I can’t talk about this now.”

What Elain really wanted to say was that she couldn’t talk about this ever, but she knew that would only result in more back and forth and right now all she wanted was for this conversation to be over.

“He’s miserable, El.” Nesta lowered her voice to match Elain’s. “He’s very good at acting like he’s fine but he’s not. You just left and I know you’ve cut him off completely since and -”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone, really. It’s not like I’ve only stopped talking to hi-” Elain abruptly stopped speaking, standing up straight and plastering a smile on her face just as she spotted Graysen beginning to make his way towards them.

He didn’t have a chance to say anything, had only just managed to sling an arm around Elain’s waist when the front door swung open and Shadow came flying through. She was nothing but a black blur, ducking and dodging around furniture as she ran straight through to the kitchen. She paused in front of Rhys for a quick hello before she made a beeline towards where Elain stood with Nesta and Graysen by the dining room table. 

Her long tail wagged furiously, whipping against the wooden leg of the table. Shadow was seemingly unbothered, too busy flailing around happily between Nesta’s legs before she finally came to a stop in front of Elain. Her long snout nuzzled into Elain’s open palm and her lean body leant heavily against her thighs.

Much like Nyx, Shadow paid Graysen little to no attention other than to sniff  in his direction just once which Elain thought quite strange given that Shadow loved meeting new people and she’d famously always favored the company of men. 

“Hi, Shadow girl!” Elain cooed, crouching down to properly greet the dog that had come to feel like her own over the years. She’d gone with Azriel the day he’d picked her up and brought her home, had even helped name her. “Look how gray you’ve gotten!”

“She’ll be nine next week.”

The timber of his voice hit her at the exact same time as the familiar scent of his cedar cologne and Elain was suddenly grateful that she was already on the ground because if she’d been standing, she was sure her knees would’ve given out completely.

Elain swallowed her nerves, raising her eyes from Shadow’s sweet salt and pepper face to look up at Azriel only to find that every bit of his attention was focused solely on her.

“Hi, Lain.”

There were a couple beats of silence before Elain got a hold of herself and stood up. She stepped forward and before she could stop herself, she raised onto the very tips of her toes and wound her arms around his neck. Azriel’s arms wrapped around her waist in turn, tentatively at first before she felt his fingers flex against the middle of her back as he relaxed, readjusting his grip to pull her tight against his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Probably because it had been at one point in time.

“Hi, Az.” She whispered into his neck, breathing in the divine scent of him. The scent of home.

“Hey, Azriel!” Nesta said loudly from behind them, effectively breaking the trance that Elain had unwittingly found herself in. 

She let go of Azriel quickly and took a large step back, bumping into the dining table, as Nesta took her place in his arms. 

She was only just aware of Graysen staring at her in her peripheral, his hand once again heavy against her hip.

“Were you planning on introducing me?” He asked her as Azriel and Nesta separated and Azriel turned to face them again. Elain hadn’t noticed that she’d been staring dumbly straight ahead - directly at Azriel’s chest. 

He was wearing an oatmeal coloured fisherman’s sweater that she’d told him she loved on him more than a few times and a small, stupid part of her wondered if she crossed his mind when he slipped it on this morning.

“Oh, yes!” She shook her head, laughing nervously. “Um, Az… this is Graysen, my uh…”

“Boyfriend.” Graysen finished the sentence for her, extending his hand towards Azriel. “And you are…”

“This is Azriel. My…. Azriel.” Elain stuttered as she watched the two men shake hands.

She allowed herself the tiniest shake of her head to ease the frustration she felt towards herself. She sounded like an absolute idiot.

“I think I’ve missed something,” Graysen looked between Elain and Azriel, eyebrows lifting slightly. “How do you know each other?

“We’re good friends.” Azriel answered at the same time Elain said “He’s Rhys’ best friend.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

She couldn’t possibly have handled that any worse.

“So you’re Rhys’ friend or Elain’s friend?” Graysen asked, the slightest hint of a frown forming on his lips. 

Any hope that Elain had of him dropping this topic evaporated in front of her eyes.

“We’re all friends. We met through Rhys when he started dating Feyre and we all spent basically all our time together.” She answered quickly, briefly meeting Azriel’s eyes.

Another mistake. 

All she saw was hurt. No one else would’ve noticed because the emotion was there and gone in a flash but Elain saw past the mask. She saw the hurt she’d caused him. Hurt at being reduced to a friend of a friend, as if he wasn’t so much more to her. As if they hadn’t spent years of their lives seeing each other almost every day. Trading secrets. Letting each other see parts of themselves they’d never allowed anyone else to see.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Azriel smiled politely, redirecting his attention to Graysen. “I’m gonna go find the birthday boy but I’ll talk to you guys later, I’m sure.”

He didn’t look at her again before he walked away, Shadow obediently following right behind him. Even Nesta quickly excused herself so she didn’t have to be around to witness the uncomfortable tension that had settled heavily between Elain and Graysen..

She had absolutely no idea what had come over her. She thought she’d been somewhat prepared to see him again but nothing could’ve prepared her for the reality of him standing in front of her. Smiling at her. The feel of his arms around her - strong and sure and familiar. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing him walk away from her, disappointment lingering behind his eyes. She’d done that to him and she hated herself for it.

She silently cursed herself for ever thinking that bringing Graysen back here would be a good idea. Mere minutes had passed and she’d already fucked up. She had no idea how the hell she was supposed to make it through this day, let alone survive an entire weekend of this.

“What the hell was that?” Graysen muttered as Elain turned in his arms, once again plastering on a smile in a last ditch effort to rectify the mess she’d just made of that introduction.

“Nothing,” She shook her head, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “That was nothing.”

… 

When Azriel walked into Rhys and Feyre’s house earlier and caught a glimpse of Elain for the first time in four months, she was wearing another one of those dresses that threatened to send him to his knees. 

He loved each and every one of her dresses but the one she wore today was a pale blue with delicate straps that tied at her shoulders and draped elegantly over her frame in a way that just about teased at each dip and curve concealed by the lightweight, silky material. It was perfectly demure for a children’s birthday party but something about that dress on her was downright sinful. 

Maybe if the circumstances were different, he’d be able to steal a glance every now and then and attempt to carry on with his life, but the circumstances were not different and Azriel was cursed to get through this afternoon looking at Elain in that dress with some other guy’s arm around her waist. 

He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. Even if he had no right to think of her in that way. Not when she’d made it abundantly clear not once but twice now, that she didn’t want him like that. Still, he couldn’t help that the memory of her kneeling on his bed and tracing a path across his hips with that pretty mouth of hers came rushing back to the forefront of his mind in the ten or so seconds that she’d been on her knees in front of him, patting his dog and looking up at him with those big, brown eyes. 

Any satisfaction that he’d gotten from that memory or simply from seeing her and having her in his arms again, disappeared the second she stepped back and he’d been introduced to her boyfriend.

He knew there was something off with the way they interacted within the first few minutes of watching them together that afternoon. Azriel knew that the smiles she gave him weren’t genuine because they never quite reached her eyes. Elain evaded Graysen’s touch, swiveling out of his grasp each and every time he went to put his hand on her hip, ducking her head so the kiss he intended to give her landed on her forehead instead of her lips. 

He wondered how no one else seemed to notice it when he could see it so clearly. He was in tune with her every emotion, knew her better than he knew the back of his own hand. He’d had time to hone that skill and right now, the piece of his brain that was dedicated solely to her was screaming that something wasn’t right. 

Azriel hated the way she acted around him. Hated the way Graysen acted towards her. Actually, Azriel just outright despised Graysen.

He’d come into this day wanting the best. He genuinely wanted to see Elain happy even if the notion of her being with anyone else made his chest constrict in a way that couldn’t possibly be healthy. But he knew she wasn’t happy and one handshake was all it took for Azriel to know exactly what kind of guy Graysen was.

His grip had been firm but his hands bore no evidence of ever doing anything more difficult than swinging a heavy golf club. Graysen had a smile befitting of a politician’s son - charming but edged with insincerity, like he’d do or say whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. He carried himself with the ease of someone that had had things handed to him on a silver platter for his whole life and there was a certain arrogance to him that had Azriel wondering what Elain could possibly see in him. He knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t have been the expensive clothing or the twenty thousand dollar watch on his wrist that had piqued her interest just like he knew that the glittering diamond tennis bracelet circling her wrist was for Graysen’s benefit and not hers.

He’d endeavored to try and find out if the guy had any redeeming qualities at all to help Azriel come to terms with them being together but he’d been stopped every time he’d tried to approach Graysen.

Azriel almost found it amusing the way Elain had been running what could be considered award winning interference between himself and her boyfriend all day, somehow managing to keep them well away from each other in and amongst entertaining her nephew and his flock of tiny friends. But now that all Nyx’s friends and their parents had gone home and the sun was beginning to set, there was very little Elain could do to keep them from speaking. 

Graysen had started the conversation as they sat on the couch next to each other, just behind where Elain was sitting on the floor helping Nyx unwrap the copious amounts of presents he’d received today. Graysen asked Azriel about how he had met Rhys and Azriel explained that they’d met when they were kids and Rhys’ family had all but adopted him as one of their own. The topic had turned to Velaris and Azriel had sat through mind-numbing comments about how the river looked nicer in pictures, how things closed too early, and how there was no real potential for growth. 

He’d just nodded and shrugged wherever he thought appropriate and he’d failed to get more than a sentence in but then Cassian had asked if Azriel was still planning on staying at their place after dinner with everyone the next night and when Azriel had answered that he would as long as he managed to finish the ring he’d been working on, Graysen had suddenly had a lot of questions. 

“So you set up a little stall at what? … Weekend farmers markets? Sell jewelry to old ladies and teenage girls?”  Graysen asked after Azriel patiently explained exactly why he was making jewelry. “And you make money from that?”

Azriel noticed the way Elain stiffened at the condescending tone of Graysen’s voice. The snide way he laughed as he reduced Azriel’s work to the equivalent of a children’s roadside lemonade stand. She set down the toy she’d been unboxing for Nyx and swiveled around to face them.

“He’s not making jewelry with dollar store plastic beads, Gray.” It was maybe the most fed up Azriel had ever heard her sound. He’d always known her to stay quiet and avoid confrontation. He didn’t even need one hand to count all the times he’d seen her snap and each of those times had been at Feyre or Nesta so he didn’t really count them. “It’s his business and he’s done really well.”

“It’s fine, Lain.” Azriel said softly, his heart swelling in his chest at the way she defended him even if he was unbothered by Graysen’s comments. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before from his own father or brothers. He continued to speak, confidently taking Graysen’s questions in stride in a way that Elain hadn’t quite been able to.“I actually work in data security but I make jewelry in my spare time and sell custom pieces online. Although, I did have some pretty successful mornings at farmer’s markets when I was just starting out and -”

“I thought you didn’t like being called that.” Graysen interrupted him, calculating eyes shifting from Azriel to Elain.

“What?” Elain asked, eyebrows furrowed in a way that Azriel would’ve found endearing in any other circumstance.

“He calls you ‘Lain.’” Graysen replied. “You told me you hated when I called you that.”

“I just prefer ‘El,’” She shrugged, picking at the sleeve of the cream cardigan she’d thrown on over her dress. “And he isn’t the only one. Nyx has called me that all day today, as well.” 

Azriel stayed silent. He knew exactly where Nyx had picked that nickname up from but he wasn’t about to expose himself for cornering his friend’s kid into multiple conversations with the secret agenda of trying to siphon information about what Nyx’s Auntie was up to these days. 

Graysen huffed, crossing his arms like an overgrown child as he sat back. He’d dropped his line of inquisition for now but Azriel had a feeling that wasn’t the last Elain would hear of this topic and the thought made him sick.

He’d been carefully watching all afternoon - noticing the way Graysen spoke about Elain and the possessive way he touched her as if she was something to have or to own. It had turned his stomach, memories of the way he’d seen his father treat his mother seeping into his mind despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

Azriel paid extra attention to him now, picking up the way Graysen acted towards Elain as he continued to answer questions about his jewelry. He cringed at the scowl that found a home on Graysen’s lips each time her attention was pulled away from him and the way that scowl only deepened at each passing remark that hinted that maybe Azriel and Elain had, in fact, been closer than what she might’ve alluded to earlier. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what she’d told Graysen about him. He had a feeling she hadn’t told him much at all. But he saw the wheels turning in Graysen’s head when Azriel’s craft came up again and Azriel explained exactly what type of jewelry he made and Graysen’s eyes had drifted to the chain that had faithfully stayed clasped around Elain’s neck year after year. 

His suspicions were confirmed an hour or so later when Azriel rounded a corner, making his way towards the powder room at the foot of the stairs only to stop halfway there when he was distracted by a pair of low voices coming from Rhysand’s office across the hallway. 

It was just a simple hushed whisper but his ears perked up at the voice he’d come to find grating over this very long, very tortuous day. 

He could hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him that it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, that nothing good every came from it, but he couldn’t help himself as he stood there - still as night, locking in on the hushed conversation and blocking out the raucous laughter coming from the kitchen. 

“You know what I find most interesting about all of this?” Azriel heard Graysen ask. “In four months, I’ve heard about your sisters and their husbands but you haven’t even mentioned his name once.”

“He’s just a friend,” Elain answered quietly. “I swear.”

“Right,” Graysen scoffed. “And I suppose he’s the friend that gave you that necklace?”

Azriel swallowed,  his eyes pinching closed at the animosity - the clear jealousy - that laced Graysen’s question. He could hear the malice in the way he spat out the word ‘friend’. He could only imagine the way he’d be glaring at the little gold oval that Azriel knew Elain would be clutching in between her thumb and index finger.

Graysen had asked her about the necklace, that thin gold chain Azriel had gifted her all those years ago that sat faithfully around her neck every day since. It was his only sign, as delusional as it might’ve made him, that she still thought of him. After everything that had happened the year prior, Elain still wore that small, handmade pendant and even if they didn’t speak, even if his messages had gone unanswered… Maybe her continuing to wear that necklace meant that she didn’t completely despise him. 

Azriel kept moving, not allowing himself to so much as breathe until he was safely behind the closed door of the powder room. He had wanted to keep listening but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t think he could stand to hear her answers to Graysen’s questions. Didn’t want to know if she’d attempt to explain to Graysen whatever this thing was between them or if she’d continue to insist that he was nothing more than a friend. 

But Azriel wanted an answer. He deserved an answer. He just didn’t want to get it by eavesdropping on a conversation he wasn’t a part of. He needed to hear it directly from her. He needed to talk to her.

[wulvercazz]

🌊Young Fun💦

Previous~ Back with Open World and Thirteen, Marina and Atticus 🥰💕 This update is mosty smut btw lmao!

The sunset started to settle in the sky after a little stop by Marina’s home. Tortuga was nice and tired even after napping while they ate and the fish and seafruit Marina had caught earlier needed to be deposited in the reservoirs for fresh keeping; and her little brother would be dying to see her, if just for a few minutes, before he was put to bed. Marina walked out the front door soon after, all smiles as she met back with them and announced they were ready to fully appreciate the sunset together. It was a short walk to the shore, down the rocky sandy path straight from Marina’s to the sound of the waves. The humid air hugging them tighter the closer they got. No words spoken, only Marina smiling their way when all three came to a stop at the exact place where water licked the sand, excited for them to see the beauty they’d just described to them; as though Thirteen were about to open a gift. A little cheesy, more than a little emotive, Marina took Atticus’ hand on her right and theirs on her left. Everyone looking at each other expectant as the sun slowly started to reach the horizon, the warm yellows and pinks bleeding to violet and the light of the stars slowly blinking to life. And then the sun fully hides behind the sea, and an unnatural glow shines from the synergy of the sun and the night sky; barely the couple seconds that it takes for the sun to stop being visible altogether. Thirteen’s already gaping at the mouth, eyes wide and sparkling like the stars shine one them too; “wait, wait– here comes the best part!” Marina chippers their way, squeezing their hand as their whole attention turns back to the sea. Slowly, the water starts to earn it’s own colors; like the lights of the midnight market back in the forest, the coral and the fish slowly twinkle to life as the moon above becomes brighter. Ethereal light glowing from below the water and Thirteen feels their feet take them right in and until they get wet. Then a hand’s pulling them back and it’s Marina with that look she gets when she’s got something up her sleeve, “wanna go skinny dipping?” She asks all giddy, and Atticus’ eyes nearly jump out their sockets and his face burns up but, in his own way, he looks just as excited as she does; naturally, Thirteen says ‘yes, please’. The water’s warmer than they expect, calming the chill from the breeze and easing the ache from the day’s exercise; their clothes safe and dry on the rocky formations out the water. Marina and Atticus’ movements are as graceful as earlier, even on low water, Marina’s hair seems to never be too wet to get messy, and Atticus tail seems to follow the flow of the water so naturally it almost gets lost in it. Thirteen is almost too busy watching the lights to notice them kissing, until they get called in close. It starts as mindless playing, Marina exploring Thirteen’s body like she did the first time they met this up close; in wonder of the way the light shines in their much darker skin, unlike how it does on hers or her partner’s. Then everyone’s touching, and somehow they all gravitate towards a nearby rock to get comfortable and Thirteen ends up following Marina’s guidance in making Atticus mewl a little. Doing a little exploring for themself, on the lines and curves and light peach fuzz that seemed to cover his whole body, while Marina mouthed at his sensitive neck and scritched at his nape, her fingers drumming over his skin. Thirteen wouldn’t have done it on their own accord, not in this situation, but one look and one guiding hand atop their head has them catching on and kneeling between the cat-hybrid’s trembling knees. Shaky breaths and scaredy mewls out his lips when he realizes what’s going on, Marina’s hands and lips and words gentle and appeasing as Thirteen figures out what makes him purr.

It’s a nice length, soft yet heavy on Thirteen’s hands, and warm on the tentative tongue they settle the head on; Atticus gasping over so little. It’s encouraging. Thirteen wrapping their lips around his dick to suckle and swipe at the head while Marina traces his shaky abdomen and teases his nipples. Atticus’ thighs threaten to close on them at a particularly mean suck, so Thirteen rests on one to avoid being thoroughly crushed, and for their hand to better reach the base of his bluish cock, getting darker the more he’s teased; the harder he gets. Thirteen’s hands squeeze and pump at what’s not in their mouth, relishing in the little cries and the sudden jumps of his muscles as both of them tease and play him to their hearts’ extent. Confused when Marina leaves his side and whispers something in Thirteen’s ear; making them stop completely. Follows them with dazed eyes and a question hanging from his lip as Thirteen climbs all over him and Marina settles on his lap; nearly loses his breath when she sits on his dick. He gets the message when Marina holds on to Thirteen’s chest, balancing their weights on each other, and clamps his arms under Thirteen’s thighs and pulls them up the rest of the way to his face, drowning on their pussy while Marina tortures him with tiny thrusts and rolls of her hips; squeezing him with her warm walls and pinching at Thirteen’s nipples with her fingers. The growing waves drown out their collective cries, the pants hidden by the crashing of water against rock and splashing of their own movements, everybody’s limbs tingly and shivering with every rock of Marina’s hips jumping under Atticus’ hips rutting needy and fast, and his mouth working Thirteen’s cunt deep with a tongue raspier than they expected. Bullying their clit like they bullied his cock. Everyone blanks out one after the other, holding on for dear life to whoever’s at arms’ reach until the high of the orgasm lets them think clearly and melt into the water to chill out their overheated bodies. “I’m gonna sleep like a rock–” Marina chuckles between heavy breaths; standing on jiggly legs until Atticus helps her deeper into the water. Splashes his own face clean and smiles sheepishly, and nicely tired, at no one in particular. The chilling of the night breeze forces them out the water some time after, pulling them from quietly watching the glow beneath the waves; only breaking the peace to point at funny fish below. Everyone shivers a little on the way back, the dry clothes damping over their wet skin, less on Marina than on them – with the way her body seemed to repel water, that the growing winds were quick to cool with every hit.  It was easy to forget Atticus's family came from money, and then things like this would happen where his folks would send a servant to pick him up from Marina’s when it got too late, brought him a change of comfy clothes and a towel because they were aware of Marina’s antics. Aid Atticus begrudgingly agrees to, with some shame to his posture after a shy ‘it’s ok’ is not taken for an answer. Atticus would’ve rather walked back chittering cold, is what Marina tells them as Atticus’ fancy ride leaves, just a short walk away from Marina’s home. She knows he comes from wealth, and it doesn’t matter much to her, but Atticus would rather these little displays of it would be dialed down to nothing. Not that his parents would let that happen, they’re a bit overprotective that way; took them months to be convinced Marina wouldn’t lose him in the water.

When they enter Marina’s home, her parents are getting finished with dinner and about ready to put themselves to sleep; they welcome them, and ask their whereabouts. Marina lies with such surprising ease from someone so open; although it’s not like she lies completely, or that Thirteen would’ve preferred she told the truth. She tells them they showed them the sunset and the night glows, and then lost time playing with the water, it’s why Thirteen was so damp. They take it with a little grumbling from her dad, for being out so late, but he’s appeased by Marina kissing him on the cheek goodnight. Her parents have prepared a bed for them on Marina’s room, Thirteen wasn’t even sure where they’d stay the night, to be honest, but it’s clear they wouldn’t have allowed it any other way. Atticus and Marina both have something nice here, something warm and homey, it gets Thirteen thinking about family again; wondering aimlessly until sleep overtakes them.

sigghhh uwu I love lewding up my ocs and smashing them together like barbies lmao ✨ hope you enjoyed ✨