#thank you for reading lovelies <3< /div>
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beepboopappreciation · 5 months ago
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Is this anything
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xitsensunmoon · 1 month ago
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He's a bit too excited to see you clock in
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commsroom · 7 months ago
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the u.s.s. horrible unending nightmare đŸ’„ (once again from the incredible @hehearse)
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yasmeensh · 25 days ago
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Zelda II: The Adventure of Link - The Blood Curse
This comic had been in the back-burner for over a year, and I have finally got to working on it during the past month. It just so happens to be on theme for Halloween, too. So it is a fitting time to share it.
Please enjoy and share your thoughts! Zelda 2 lore is my passion <3
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PS. This is part of a larger script I have written in an attempt to dramatize the full zelda 2 plot. This was a scene I often daydreamed about since it was a crucial moment in Link's character development. This is the point in his adventure where he loses his love for adventure and discovery. He can no longer take indulgent risks. Any danger befalling him can result in the destruction of Hyrule. Link's internal struggles and the concept of him being the saviour of Hyrule on one hand, and the destroyer of Hyrule on the other, leads to the conception of Dark Link.
Perhaps one day I'll delve into that topic and make a short comic about it. One day.
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xxplastic-cubexx · 23 days ago
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your krakoa era cherik art has altered my brain chemistry
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more krakoa era is to come from me my friend so i worry for your brain
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starmocha · 1 month ago
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Elysium Sylus/Reader | 16K words | Masterlist | AO3 Beneath the azure sky and across the luscious green grassland, a love story unfolds. A/N: AO3 user InsomniacForevermore planted an itsy bitsy seed in my head, and
it grew...out of control, actually
 👁👄👁 My Grassland!Sylus Childhood friends/Arranged Marriage/Soulmates AU is finally here and I only had to sacrifice four nights of sleep for it. đŸ„č MDNI. (btw, not necessary, but
listen to DJ Sammy’s Heaven – Candlelight Mix while reading...or post-reading, whichever)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☜ àŒ“ ☟ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
elysium — n. a place or state of ideal happiness
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☜ àŒ“ ☟ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The warriors are home!
You first heard the excited cries while tending to your flock of sheep on the grassland. All around you and from far away, people were already abandoning their tasks and chores to rush to the village entrance to greet and welcome the returning warriors.
“Sylus is also back!” one of the young maidens cried with delight.
Your heart paused at hearing his name, your breathing coming out uneven. Instinctively, you also rose to your feet. You left behind your flock to idly graze as your feet took off running at a breakneck speed back to the village. When you had arrived, a large, dense crowd had already formed at the square. The elders and the chief—your father—were praising the warriors’ heroic victories against opposing tribes, but among those who was lavished with the most praises was Sylus. His build larger than the other men and his intimidating height towering above others. Even from the back of the crowd, you could see him clearly.
Your heart quickened, seeing his sharp eyes surveyed the large crowd, going from face to face. The moment his eyes locked in on your petite form, his cold expression broke, the intimidating glare softened completely as he pushed through the crowd and rushed to you. In just seconds, he had gathered you into his arms, lifting you high above the crowd.
Laughter and cheers broke out at the sight of Sylus holding you up high, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs. You steadied your balance, hands resting on his shoulders, gasping and laughing, “Welcome home!”
He smiled back lovingly and murmured for your ears only, “I’m home.”
“Today, let us feast and praise our young men for the glory they have brought upon our tribe!” the chief declared, his words met by loud cheers and thunderous applauses all around.
You were helping bringing the food to the banquet when you felt a strong grip on your arm, tugging you gently back. You steadied the basket of flatbreads you carried and looked up, meeting Sylus’ gaze. He smiled at you mischievously.
“Let the other girls handle this,” he said, tossing a look to the other young women behind you giggling and smiling with envy. “Come with me.”
You couldn’t get a word out as one of the girls came over and took your basket from you, all of them laughing and prodding you to leave with Sylus, much to your embarrassment.
“Go on, we know how much you have been missing him,” one of the girls said, batting her eyelashes teasingly at you.
“It’s a wonder our sheep didn’t get stolen away by wild beasts while its shepherd was so lovesick,” another teased as she exaggeratedly patted her heart rhythmically.
“Was she now?” Sylus asked, amused. He gave you a knowing glance and you glared right back at him.
“Oh, hush, all of you.” You rolled your eyes at your so-called friends before grabbing Sylus’ hand and dragging him away, your ears burning as you could still hear the laughter and cheering.
You paused in your steps once you both were out of sight. You looked up at Sylus, feeling sheepish now. “Um
Actually, I don’t know where we are going
”
He laughed and shook his head. “I was wondering where you were dragging me off to.” He leaned down and pinched your cheek, his grin widening. “The chief’s daughter still gets so easily flustered when others talk about her betrothed, hmm?”
“Sylus, quit it!” You rubbed at your sore cheek with a pout.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I have missed seeing you and hearing your voice these last few months.”
Your arms slowly encircled around his waist. You looked up with a bashful smile. “So
you felt the same?”
“Do you doubt me, my beloved?”
He leaned down and kissed your lips. It felt just as sweet and tender as you remembered when he last kissed you goodbye months ago. He parted, but his gaze remained on you, searching—beseeching.
“I would never,” you responded, standing on your toes and stealing another kiss from him, much to both his surprise and delight.
“Come,” he said, breaking away and smirking at your disappointed pout. “I have the horses ready.”
“The horses?”
“We have much to catch up on, my beloved,” he said, taking your hand in his, “And I do not wish for prying ears to listen in on our conversations.”
You rode upon your chestnut-colored mare while Sylus rode his stallion, its black coat sheening in the sunlight on the grassland. The horses walked leisurely across the plane side-by-side as their owners idly conversed. You excitedly rambled on and on about the most mundane events that had happened in his absence, only becoming acutely aware of his silence when you caught sight of his smirk.
“
I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
He shook his head in disagreement. “I have missed your voice,” he answered, “Won’t you tell me more?”
You felt embarrassed by how much you were talking, and even more so when you realized he was listening and watching you with such rapt attention. You shook your head fervently. “No, it’s your turn to talk.”
“It won’t be nearly as entertaining as your story of the goat herder getting drunk and falling asleep in the goat pen while his goats took over his home.”
You rolled your eyes. “I will not be swayed by such weak flattery.”
“Then shall I serenade to you instead, my beloved?”
You covered your ears. “These mortal ears are not worthy of such
unearthly
singing.”
He huffed. “My men have enjoyed my singing these past few months,” he responded proudly, “Surely, my future bride would as well.”
“They’ve truly earned their feast tonight then,” you murmured more to yourself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing—” You paused, your playfulness disappearing instantly the moment you caught sight of several small colorful pouches in the saddlebag on Sylus’ horse, items meant to proclaim affections for the receiver of them. You didn’t even think before blurting out, “Who gave you those pouches?”
You silently cursed the moment you realized what you had asked. You tried to look away nonchalant, missing the smirk rising on Sylus’ face.
“Jealous?”
“No
” You nudged your horse, urging her to walk faster.
Sylus did the same with his horse, matching your pace. “These were welcome home presents.”
“Were they?” Even though you tried to maintain a façade of indifference, you felt your skin crawling at the thought. Against your better judgment, your mind was already racing through the names and faces of all the village girls that could have gifted him those pouches. You played out possible scenarios of how the events could have transpired. You pictured those girls giggling and blushing as they handed him their homemade pouches that they had spent so much time on for him.
You pictured him—smiling. At those girls. Smiling, as he received their gifts. Smiling, as his hand might accidentally brushed against theirs. Smiling

At others.
Sylus called your name, and you found yourself breaking out of your self-imposed stupor. You turned away to hide your red cheeks, embarrassed by your sudden behavior change. You tried to speak calmly, suddenly becoming very aware of how stiff your voice sounded, but it was better than to let your actual emotions come through. “It will get dark soon. We should head back.”
“Are you jea—”
You kicked your mare’s sides, urging her to take off at a gallop. You didn’t want to hear him finish that sentence, didn’t want to think further about what had transpired. You knew you were behaving irrationally and immature, but you felt like you couldn’t face him, couldn’t stand for him to see you in such a vulnerable, ugly state.
Sylus chuckled as he watched you atop your mare, racing away across the land in the direction of the village. He tugged at his stallion’s rein, yelling, and his own horse took off after yours. Even though he had allowed you a head start, it didn’t take long for Sylus’ horse to close the distance.
You could hear the heavy hooves of the stallion behind you, and you urged your mare to run faster. It was a futile attempt to evade the approaching party. In a matter of seconds, Sylus’ stallion was running side by side with your mare again.
Your eyes widened when Sylus leaned over, his strong legs still keeping him steady on his horse. He grabbed you by the waist from your horse and easily carried you over to his, ignoring your panicked cries. The stallion had slowed to a halt, giving Sylus a chance to settle you and him more comfortably atop the horse. You watched with dismay as your mare continued galloping back to the village, leaving you trapped with Sylus. You looked up, shooting Sylus a heated glare.
“Why did you do that?!”
“Why are you glaring at me?”
“Why did you grab me like that?!”
“Why did you run away?”
“Why—why—”
He waited, his arrogant smile making you even more flustered and angry and emotional. Your glare wavered; you could feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes. You hurriedly blinked them away, but now you could also feel your chest tightening with pain, your breathing coming out ragged. The longer Sylus looked at you and the more you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the worse you felt, knowing a dam was about break and you could do nothing to stop it.
“So why—" Sylus stopped. His smile faltered when you finally broke down crying:
“Why
did you accept them?”
“What?”
You buried your face in your hands, crying, unable to calm yourself or keep the hot tears at bay. You shook and sobbed, your words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, “Why did you accept those girls’ pouches?”
Sylus looked down at you, shocked, not expecting to see you crying, your voice holding so much hurt and pain, he felt guilty for putting you in such a state. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. He shushed you softly as he whispered apologies while you cried. You felt him burying his face in your hair, his chest pressing closer to your back, and you couldn’t understand why, but the act itself just made you cry harder as you wrapped your arms around his, hurt and scared and angry.
As dusk settled in, painting the sky in purple and orange, the air felt heavy. In the wide expanse of the grassland, the plane stretched for miles and miles, seemingly endless. You were but a speck in the field, and in that moment in his arms, you truly felt so small and insignificant.
As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horse’s hooves as he trotted back to the village.
“We’re almost back,” Sylus’ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere.
You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, “Let me down. I can walk back.”
“No,” he answered.
“Sylus—"
He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction.
“Sylus?!” you looked up, panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylus’ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the view of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight.
Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace across the grassland. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over and stealing away your earlier anguish.
Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. After giving your mare a comforting stroke down her mane, you turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised.
“They mean nothing to me,” he said resolutely, “Burn them.”
“I’m not going to
”
He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, making you swallowed your words. “I had never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealous
”
“I was not jea—”
He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. “Sy—”
He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. “What are you—"
He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. “You always do what you want—this is not fair
”
“What’s not fair?”
“It’s not fair
how
I’m the only one
feeling insecure
”
In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly.
“You are right,” Sylus responded, “I don’t feel insecure.”
Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylus’ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.
“You were promised to me,” he said, hushed, “And I to you.”
He kissed you. “We are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.”
His forehead pressed to yours. “My beloved,” he held his gaze with yours, “I will always choose you, in this life and the next. Whether we are meant to be or not—”
He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away.
I will always choose you.
The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep.
As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes.
“Is this what you do when I’m not here?”
You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?”
You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I
was blinking.”
“Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.”
“I had some dust in my eyes.”
“I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.”
You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries.
Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly, wondering if this meant what you thought it meant. It was at that moment, though, that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face.
“Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly.
He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused.
“I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.”
“R-really?”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Sylus
” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke.
“Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.”
You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head.
How
ethereal...
He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.”
You looked down at him confused.
“My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?”
You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?”
He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.”
“You’ll put it back on for me, right?”
He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said lightly, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will
my bride.”
For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, your mind replaying what he had just said over and over again. Slowly, you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body.
“This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, your faces just barely apart, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.”
“Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself willingly and helplessly drown in those passionate crimson eyes.
“I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.”
Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.
Hands intertwined, you returned to the village with Sylus, his handmade wreath worn proudly on your head. There were envious looks directed at you and sighs of resignation heard here and there. You felt a squeeze from Sylus’ hand and you answered back with your own.
His love for you had always been true and steadfast.
When you looked back on your years together, it seemed he was always there, always yours.
The boy who was promised to you and you to him. An oath had been formed between two powerful families long before either of you came into the world, but perhaps it was always meant to be, because never once did either of you seemed to rebel against your destiny.
You grew up alongside him on the grassland, running barefoot and riding horses across the endless green pasture under the sun. It was a rich childhood filled with laughter and smiles, skinned knees and clumsy first kisses, with the boy who had carried you on his small back home. With the boy who had promised to grow up and become the strongest warrior on the grassland. With the boy who had sworn he would always keep you safe and protected.
The same boy, one day, had become a man, who had unwittingly stolen many young maidens’ hearts, but his own he had safeguarded and kept for you alone.
The man who would always find his way back to you no matter how far his duties may take him.
The man who would soon become your husband, the promise made so long ago between two families would now be honored.
You tightened your hold on his hand, and he smiled down on you.
That smile alone seemed to have banished any lingering insecurities you had. As you stared into his eyes, falling deeper and deeper, you knew nothing could ever sway him, could ever tear him from you. Likewise, there was no one else in your eyes and heart.
It was always going to be him.
There was much to celebrate in the coming weeks. Weddings after weddings took place across the village as one after another, couples were married off.
In the middle of spring, on a warm and sunny day, you were the last to be wedded, but your wedding ceremony was the most extravagant. As the only daughter of the village’s chief, you were the pride and joy of your father. From birth, you and Sylus had already been matched, your future destined together, and now as young adults, the day for your wedding was finally here.
Dressed in red and gold, the colors symbolizing love and prosperity, the elder women prepared you for your groom. You pressed your lips between a lipstick paper, staining them crimson as your cheeks were painted in a similar shade with the rouge made from the scarlet flowers gathered in the grassland. Your hair had been cleansed, fragranced, and styled with gold and red flowers decorating your tresses. You were the very image of a new bride, and now the time had come for you to go meet your groom.
As you made your way through the village, passing cheers from well-wishers, your eyes honed in on Sylus waiting for you at the end. Your breath hitched, your heart speeding up. Dressed in a matching red/gold ceremonial robe and trousers, he waited for you with a smile. You couldn’t help but noted appreciatively how the robe he wore brought out the beauty in his eyes.
His crimson eyes were always so sharp and piercing, able to strike fear into his enemies’ hearts, but when he gazed upon you, there was only soft, gentle joy, love, and gratitude.
The happiness he felt in this moment, knowing soon, by the day’s end, you would be his wife from now until the end of your time on this earthly plane.
The love he felt for you was deeper than the ocean’s depth, unmatched by any force in this world. He would lay down his life for you, rebel against the gods for you, he would submit to you time and time again.
The gratitude he felt for being born into the same lifetime as yours, to be able to have you as his, to build a life with you. He couldn’t begin to express the depths of his gratitude, but he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying.
As you approached him, his gaze seemed to soften even more. You stood facing him, your heart beating faster than normal. One large hand cupped your face and you smiled, leaning into his touch, feeling your heart steadying again.
Soon, he and you would be tethered together in matrimony, your bond witnessed by your village and the heavens above.
You exhaled slowly as the priest began the ceremony.
“May the gods and goddesses bless this pair, allow their union to be fruitful and their happiness endless.”
You stole a glance at Sylus, startling when you met his crimson gaze already settled on you. The fond smile he wore quickly transitioned to a smirk at your flustered expression. You started to look away out of sheer embarrassment, but you caught sight of him quietly mouthing to you: “Eyes on me.”
You found yourself obediently listening to him, your focus entirely on the man you were marrying. Likewise, Sylus kept his own eyes on you.
Time felt sluggish as the ceremony wore on, your body moving through the motions and unable to truly comprehend anything that was said. You didn’t even remember when the ceremony finally ended, only breaking out of your daze when the whole village erupted in cheers as even more scarlet flowers were tossed and thrown in the air to celebrate.
Now husband and wife, you linked arms with Sylus as you made your way back to the square, smiling and laughing as everyone cheered and blessed your marriage. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down and captured your lips, his sudden public display of affection causing a commotion.
While you were hyperaware of the many eyes on the two of you, Sylus appeared unconcerned. To him, there was no one else around. It was just the two of you.
“My bride
”
From morning to sundown to nightfall, it seemed like the celebration would never end. The feast was plentiful, the alcohol abundant, and all around you, people enjoyed the festivity to their hearts’ contents, feeling encouraged to engage in gluttony and merriment for this one special day. It was not every day that many would witness such a blessed union as this marriage between the most powerful warrior in the village and the chief’s daughter. There was much cause for celebration, much joyous anticipation for the bright future that was to come.
While everyone was taking part in the merriment, you and Sylus sat at your own private table, idly chatting and dining, unable to tear your eyes away from one another. You were feeding him some fruits when the village herbalist brought forth a tray with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with a specially prepared wine for newlyweds, the alcohol laced with a potent aphrodisiac. You took one of the wooden bowls hesitantly while Sylus grabbed the other. You took an uneasy glance at your new husband.
He smirked, meeting your gaze. Without any hesitation, Sylus raised his bowl to his lips, downing the wine in mere seconds. You felt a flutter in your belly before you drank from your own bowl, feeling the alcohol burning down your throat. The wine itself rushed to your head, already causing you to feel a little tipsy.
With your inhibitions suddenly lowered, Sylus pulled you to him, his lips seizing yours, and you tasted the rich wine still staining his lips while he tasted yours. You were told the wine would take some time to take effect, so you wondered why you felt so lightheaded in that moment from just a mere kiss.
“Come away with me,” Sylus murmured, his lips just a breath from yours. Taking your hand in his, Sylus dragged you to your feet, steadying you, before leading you away.
He spirited you away to the field on the outskirt of the village. You both left behind the raucous celebration, hearing the drunken laughter and singing fading with each step you took. As the other villagers continued in their festive merriments, no one noticed the absence of the newly wedded bride and groom.
On the outskirt of the village, there was no lamp or bonfire to light the way—only the distant stars overhead to guide you through the darkness. You passed the slumbering flock of sheep, all clustered together for warmth and protection.
“They need to be sheared soon,” you remarked, laughing as you pointed out the fluffiest of the bunch.
He smiled and grabbed your hand again, fingers intertwining together. He led you far away from the village, across the grassy plane.
How strange. You had run barefoot on these grass as children, and now you were walking side-by-side as husband and wife. You not-so-subtly leaned closer to him. He smiled.
“Where are we going?” you asked, looking up at your new husband.
Sylus shrugged. “Away,” he answered, “It’s too noisy back there.”
You laughed. “Celebrations are supposed to be noisy.”
He shrugged again. “I do not care for them.”
“How ironic, coming from a man who has been celebrated for his many feats all of his life.”
He chuckled, but decided not to deign a response to your quip. Instead, he paused in his steps, turning to face you, asking, “Shall I take you away from this place then?”
“And go where?”
“Wherever you would like,” he answered, making suggestions, “The sea, the mountains—”
“And if I say I enjoy our life on this grassy plane?”
He smiled. “Then I will build the biggest hut worthy of my bride.”
You giggled. “Such a powerful boast,” you said, humoring him. “What if I don’t like it?”
“Then I will build a new one.”
“What if I they all displease me?”
“I will still have a lifetime to please my fickle bride,” he responded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. You both stumbled back, rolling down on the grass until you laid beneath him. Your cheeks suddenly felt warmer. Sylus peered down at you with a knowing smile. “My bride is suddenly silent
”
You looked up, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your senses suddenly heightened as you became all too aware of the close proximity of Sylus to you. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against yours.
Above him, the dark night sky loomed overhead, millions upon millions of stars scattered the heavens, bearing witness to the sacred union on the grassy plane. You felt a slight warmth in your body, but you brushed the feeling aside.
“The moon
” you murmured, gaze looking past him at the bright, full orb in the sky, “She is beautiful
”
“Indeed,” he answered, hushed, eyes fixated only on you. His long, slender finger trailed down your smooth cheek as he spoke softly, “Have I stolen a goddess to be my wife?”
“Such sacrilegious words,” you chided him, but Sylus responded with a roguish grin, stealing your lips and taking your reprimand with delight.
He hummed and murmured in between the sweet kisses, “Am I wrong? Would the gods not bow down to your beauty? Would goddesses not become green with envy and wish to covet the love I have for you?”
You gasped for breath, unsure if your racing heart was spurred by his relentless kisses or the feverish words he had so sweetly uttered. You panted softly, voice still scolding, “The hubris of this mortal man
”
He pressed his forehead to yours, laughing, “I speak of only the truth—my truth.”
“The gods will surely punish you for such loose lips.”
“To bear punishments simply because my only crime is that I wish to lavish my bride with praises and love?” He kissed you again, a haughty smile graced his face. “Then let them punish me.”
The warmth in your body spread. Surely, such words couldn’t have this much of an effect on you, right? You vaguely noticed Sylus’ own expression seemed more heated, his eyes darkening with a look of desire and longing.
He kissed you again, but you felt it was different from the previous light, affectionate pecks. He was practically ravaging your soft lips to the point you felt like you would bruise. You moaned against his mouth, this burning inside of you worsening as you kissed him back just as eagerly.
As the night wore on, you began to notice the effects of the aphrodisiacs settling in, feeling the warmth spread in your body and seeing the flushed look on your new husband’s face.
“Sy-Sylus
” you called for him, and his lips and teeth grazed along your neck. You panted and tugged at his ceremonial clothes urgently. “I
I feel so warm
”
“I know,” he husked back, hand cradling your face. He breathed in sharply. He himself was also beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiacs on his body, and coupled with the erotic sight of your flushed expression, he could feel himself hardening, needing you just as much as you needed him in this moment. He kissed your lips again, his voice coming out in soft pants, “I cannot wait to go back to our hut. I must have you now.”
You nodded, your body was aching, yearning for him in a way you had never felt before. You tossed your head to the side, your arms reaching up to wrap around your body, your own hands tugging at your clothes impatiently. “It’s so hot
Sylus
my body
it
it feels
it feels like
like it’s throbbing
I
I
”
He groaned at your words. He pulled away, and you looked upset at the sudden loss of contact, already missing his heavy weight on you, his warm heat against you, his soft touches on you. You whined softly, needing him on you again.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, breathless.
“With my life,” you answered immediately, and he smiled.
He knelt before you, like a devout follower, your body his temple to worship at. He offered you his kisses, words praising your beauty. You watched, eyes glazed over, your throat drying, as he removed his clothes tossing them to the side unceremoniously. You felt the ache inside you worsened as you took in the magnificent appearance of your husband, your eyes raking up and down his glorious body. Your breath hitched as you bore witness to his manhood, feeling both trepidation and excitement swirling inside you.
He reached out and disrobed you, his own eyes greedily taking in the sight of your exposed body. There was no other beauty or treasure in the world that could entice him the way he was feeling for you in this moment.
“Lay back,” he ordered, and though you were confused, you obeyed him. Suddenly, your eyes widened when he had your legs slung over his powerful shoulders while he settled between your parted thighs. You felt his warm breath trailing along your thigh, reaching your core.
“Sylus, what are you—ohh
” your head fell back as you let out a moan, feeling his mouth pressing against your most intimate area.
His mouth
he is
 “Ahh
!” You covered your mouth, embarrassed by the unexpected noises you were making.
“Don’t.” Sylus looked up, chiding you gently, “I want to hear more. I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”
“Ohhh
” You could feel him parting your slick lips, his tongue diving in and stroking against you in all of the right places. Your hips moved on their own, wanting more of this stimulating sensation he was bringing to you.
You opened your eyes a crack, barely able to see him, but you did catch a glimpse of his hand, seeing it wrapped around his magnificent manhood, pumping it urgently as he continued to pleasure you. You could feel your body pulsing at the sight, your breathing coming out in quick gasps and moans.
“Sylus
ohhh
”
You whimpered, feeling an unfamiliar sensation happening to your body. “Sylus—I
I feel strange
ahh
ahh
”
“Do you feel good?” he pulled back just a moment to check in on you, a smirk on his face. You whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention. He laughed and continued. You cried out when Sylus’ other hand pressed against you, brushing over an area that had you bucking against him. He continued stroking that same spot, feeling that sensitive little pearl, that was making you cry and moan so desperately, the erotic sounds you were making had him stroking himself harder and faster. Your helpless cries rose in pitch, coming out faster
and faster
and—
Your hips bucked up, your head tossed to the side as you let out a strangled moan, fingers finding only grass to hold onto as your body experienced the most euphoric sensation you had ever felt.
Sylus lapped at you greedily, forgetting his own pleasure as he wanted to only extend yours. You had never felt this high, this searing, hot pleasure coursing through your body. You focused on the feeling, wanting to hold onto it for as long as you could.
You were panting so hard, body trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. You didn’t know how long the heavenly feeling lasted, but when you felt the haze starting to subside, you realized Sylus was lavishing you with kisses. You hummed back tiredly, feeling his hands explored your body. You moaned as he squeezed your breast experimentally.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft. He pressed a kiss into the nape of your neck.
“So
so good
” You said, but then you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him again. You still felt so hot inside, still not fully satisfied. You whimpered to him, “Sylus
the wine
”
He panted, his hand cupping your sex, the friction from it only easing your ache a little. You needed more. Instinctively, your hips moved on their own, your body trying to seize whatever friction it could to satisfy this agonizing ache inside you.
“You are still so wet,” he murmured, laughing softly to himself, “This is good
”
You were confused by his words, but Sylus immediately kissed you again, reassuring you. “I’ll quell the fire inside you.”
Your eyes widened when he aligned himself to you, the head of his massive manhood pressing into your slick folds. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the unfamiliar sensation as you felt more and more of him entering. You gasped, tensing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Bear with the pain a little, my bride.”
You arched forward, voice scared. “Sylus—!”
He hushed you softly as he pressed more of himself into you slowly, groaning as he felt your walls stretching to accommodate him. He gauged your reaction closely, pleased as you became used to the feeling of him penetrating you.
He watched as your expression slowly changed, your arousal coming back stronger as he sheathed himself fully inside you. For a moment, he remained still, buried completely inside you and letting you adjust to the feeling. His lips found yours again, his hand slipping into yours.
“Ahh
m
more
”
Sylus’ ears perked up the moment he heard your soft plea. He began moving. Slow, careful movements at first, and then he slammed into you, making you cry out as stars filled your vision. Once he was sure you were enjoying yourself, he picked up his pacing, setting a hard, fast rhythm.
You writhed beneath him on the grass, moaning as he spread you more, taking you in deeper. His kisses trailed down your neck to your chest, his mouth finding your nipple to suckle. You squirmed when his tongue teased the sensitive nub, swirling around it until it hardened. “Sylus!”
He groaned when your fingers found his hair, tugging at him, urging him on. His voice was heavy with arousal when he spoke, “Taking me so well
my beloved beautiful bride
” He kissed your neck, his hands explored your body, learning and memorizing all of the curves that only he would ever know and trace. He memorized the way you sounded, the way your body was trembling with pleasure as it felt every burning touch and thrust from him.
“Sylus
more
more
please
”
He smiled and kissed your lips, swallowing your pleas hungrily.
Every powerful thrust had you calling his name, begging and pleading for him to go deeper and harder and faster. He answered your desperate pleas, giving you everything you were begging for. “Sylus—I am
ahh
it’s
close
”
He grunted. He could feel it too, knowing you were so close to coming undone again by him. That sweet, mounting pleasurable feeling you had felt earlier was almost here, just within reach, a little more, and—
You could feel your world tipping over, a white-hot searing pleasure coursing through your body, more powerful than the last. You didn’t know which god or goddess to praise for the intense pleasure this man was bringing to you, but you continued to cry out anyway. You gripped the grass, tugging until you pulled them free from the ground. The grass blades slipped from your fingers and scattered in the wind.
Sylus continued to rock into you, his own climax nearing. His hands gripped tightly your hips as he pounded into you with enough force that your breasts bounced. His hand skimmed over your flat belly, already imagining it growing heavy with a new life inside.
“Going to have you bear my children,” he murmured against your ear, his large hand gripping your much smaller one.
You moaned at his words. This was to be your role. You had always known it. The women were expected to bear their husbands’ children, the future of the village depending on these fruitful unions. For a powerful warrior like him, there was even more pressure for you to conceive, to bear him many strong sons who would inherit and carry on his legacy.
“Yes, yes,” you answered him breathlessly. You held onto him as he drove into you, his words reigniting the fire inside you. You whined softly into his shoulder. “Please, Sylus
”
“Oh, gods,” he grunted, “You are going to look so beautiful, my beloved.”
You mewled at his words. “More
ah
tell me more
”
His breath hitched, but he continued, his own words making him dizzy with pleasure. He was smirking as he panted, “Would you like that, my beloved? Would you like to grow big and round with my baby in your womb?”
You whimpered. It was your role. It was your duty. However, the way he asked, the way his deep voice sounded, rasping with desire, made you realized that you did want to have his babies—not out of obligation, but as an expression of your sincere love for him. You gasped and cried out, “Yes!”
That one word seemed to have driven Sylus wild. He spread you more and drove in deeper, his powerful thrusts unrelenting as he neared his own release. Your cries echoed in the dark night sky. You practically squealed, unprepared for this sudden aggressive switch.
“You’re going to carry my baby,” he murmured, nearly delirious with desire, “Grow big and round with my baby. Everyone will know. Everyone will know it is my baby in your womb, my baby that I fucked into you.”
You panted and moaned, your hands searching desperately for anything to hold onto, anything to keep you grounded as he took you for himself. Normally so sweet and affable with you, his sudden lewd words had you throbbing all over again. You didn’t realize you could get so aroused by such obscene words, but you found your body was craving more. You wanted to hear him say more of these perverted words, wanted to hear these indecent thoughts spoken aloud by his deliciously and sinfully deep voice. You wanted him to act on his lascivious desires, wanted those words to come true, wanted him to actually fuck a baby into you. You whimpered his name, gasping and pleading.
Sylus leaned in closer to you and you instantly encircled your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you, lifting you off the ground, your legs locking around his waist as he penetrated you deeply, hitting that sweet spot that had you feeling that same euphoric feeling approaching again.
“You are going to look beautiful—so fucking gorgeous—heavy with my baby in you. Going to keep feeling you, going to fuck you over and over again while you are pregnant.”
His movements had become hurried and graceless, his own words mixed with your reactions had him close to the edge. “Gonna fill you up, gonna keep you full, gonna make sure my seed take.”
“Oh, Sylus—I am going to—ahh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
You felt it, it was coming again, it was mounting, getting tighter, so close, so close, so fucking close—
You screamed your release into his shoulder, your nails scraping frantically along his back as you felt him emptied into you, filling and flooding your womb full of his seed. You bit down into his shoulder, and he hissed with pain and pleasure. There was just so much.
“Sylus—ahh, I
I feel so
full
”
He groaned and buried his face into your neck. His voice was low and commanding, “Take every last drop.”
“Ahh
Sylus
Sylus
”
He lifted your head from his shoulder, and he leaned forward, your lips his to take. You trembled against him, the aftershocks of your release still coursing through your spent body. You stayed in his arms, boneless and satisfied, the effects of the aphrodisiacs finally wearing off.
You looked at him with half-hooded eyes, meeting his own satiated gaze. His lips found yours again, his kisses more tender this time as you stayed in each other’s embrace longer as you both slowly came back down from your shared climaxes.
You lay with him beneath the stars, the cool spring breeze a welcoming presence after your heated lovemaking. You nestled into Sylus’ embrace, sighing softly when he tightened his hold. He covered you both loosely with his ceremonial robe as you basked in the afterglow.
You prayed for this moment to last, to always remember every single detail of this night. Among the million stars above, you hoped at least one would hear your silent prayer and make it come true. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by Sylus’ warmth. As you slipped into a deep slumber, you could hear Sylus’ rich, deep voice murmuring softly:
“My beloved bride
I love you.”
As daybreak came, you found yourself waking up on top of fur, feeling a strong, protective arm wrapped around you. When you looked up, you didn’t see the sky. You looked around and realized you were inside a hut.
You heard soft snoring and looked up, seeing Sylus’ sleeping face close to yours. You smiled as memories of the previous day rushed back through your mind, your cheeks tinging pink as you remembered the passionate night beneath the stars with him on the grassland.
You snuggled into his embrace, his now familiar warmth enveloping you. Sylus stirred when he felt your movements. He looked down and smiled, kissing the top of your head.
“Good morning, my bride.”
You smiled, answering him, “Good morning
my husband.”
The one word seemed to have robbed Sylus of all thoughts as he seemed to sleepily replayed what you had just said again in his head. Slowly, happily, he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.
“Say it again,” he murmured against your lips.
“My husband.”
“I love you,” he whispered back, his words making you swelled with joy. He rolled over and had you trapped beneath him. His feverish kisses covered you and you struggled to keep up.
“Sy—Sylus, the sun is up—!”
“I do not care,” he murmured, nibbling your neck, “Do not worry. Just let this happen, my bride.”
You mewled softly, feeling his soft lips all over you, his hands roaming your body brazenly. Helplessly, you gave in to his wicked temptation and to your desires, surrendering yourself completely to him that morning.
By the next moon cycle, many of the new young brides had fallen pregnant—yourself included. The men had already departed for their hunting trip, already prepping for the cold winter months to come. They would not be receiving news about their expecting brides until they returned—hopefully with a bountiful hunt.
You had all conceived around the same time, so everyone’s growths were only slightly different. Even though, you were the last to lay with your husband, everyone noticed how fast you were growing, belly rounding out bigger and faster than the other new brides and mothers.
Oh, worry not, that is normal, one woman said.
The women in Sylus’ family all bear big, strong sons, another explained.
That’s right. You should be proud that you are already this big, you were told.
Child, do not fret, you were made for this, an elder assured you.
At night, you lay in bed, hand smoothing over your growing middle. Though the women in the village had offered you their wisdom and experience, you still felt unsure and worried about your fast growth. Your heart beat softly, your worries mounting. You turned in bed and stared at the empty space next to you, missing and yearning for your husband’s warmth and comfort.
You closed your eyes, hand cradling your belly, and you prayed for Sylus’ safe and quick return.
When the summer heat crept in unexpectantly, the village resounded with joyous cries as the men returned with wild games and fowls. Some were to be feasted on in the coming days while others would be cured for the winter months when food was scarce.
You raced through the village as fast as you could in your current delicate condition, arriving at the square just as you saw the imposing figure of your husband. A large wild boar was slung over Sylus’ strong, broad shoulders as he entered the square, but the moment he saw your approaching figure, seeing your rounded belly, he dropped the wild beast and rushed to you, gathering you into his arms, laughing joyously.
He carefully steadied you on your feet, dropping to his knees as he cautiously felt your belly, surprised when he was already feeling faint movements. He looked up at you adoringly, “You look breathtaking, my beloved.”
You covered your mouth with both of your hands, suppressing the laugh and cry threatening to rise. He looked at you concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.
He smiled. “I’m home.”
“Welcome home,” you said the familiar words you had said so many times in the past, but this was the first time you had uttered them as his wife. You sighed, relieved, repeating, “Welcome home.”
Nightfall arrived once more, and throughout the village, families settled in for the night one after another.
“I’ve missed you,” Sylus murmured as he climbed into bed with you, his lips already finding yours. You hummed softly, feeling your heart beating fast when his large hand rubbed against your belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby inside.
You could hear his soft, disbelieving chuckle as he parted from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his lips still near yours. “This is really happening,” he murmured, overjoyed “How do you feel?”
“Good,” you answered with a smile.
“No sickness? No discomfort?”
You shook your head. “The herbalist had given me some medication to help with the sickness.”
Sylus nodded in understanding. “That’s good then,” he murmured. He kissed your forehead, and he apologized softly. “This won’t be easy on you, so I want to ease your discomfort as much as I am able to.”
“Sylus
”
He leaned down and kissed your belly. “You are giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He rubbed your belly fondly, delighting in feeling his child responding to his touch, “Thank you, my beloved.”
The fears and unease you had felt about your changing body disappeared the moment you laid with Sylus. The flames in the lamps had long been extinguished, but you felt like in the dark hut, you could still see him clearly, see the love and desire in his eyes.
He worshiped your body the same way he did on your wedding night, reveling in the beauty and changes happening. The stretch marks that had started to appear around your stomach were caressed and kissed with revere, his voice full of praises and gratitude for the sacrifices you were making to carry his child.
When he gripped your soft, widened hips, you let out a low, deep moan, your body welcoming him in. The night air was cool on the grassland, but within this hut you both called home, there was a heat unlike any other as sweat-slicked bodies moved together with familiar ease. The air was thick and heavy with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, and where your moans ended, his began.
You kissed him, your ardent words coming out in between gasps and moans, “Welcome home
my love
”
He smiled against the sweet kisses, greedily taking them for himself. His forehead rested against yours, his movements reaching you where you needed most, and as you came, trembling so beautifully with pleasure beneath him, he breathed against your neck:
“I’m home.”
The once vibrantly green grass of the plane had begun to yellow, drying out as the weather started changing. The morning air had been chilly, and within Sylus’ warm embrace in the early hours, you both felt reluctant to leave the comfort of your shared bed.
You could hear stirring outside your hut as one by one, many of the villagers were getting up, ready to start the brand-new day. You burrowed into Sylus’ embrace, ignoring him when he laughed.
“Are you not going to get up, my bride?”
You shook your head. “It’s still early
”
You felt his hand brushing aside your hair, hearing a soft agreeable hum from him. You perked up when you heard him speaking again, “I will have to leave soon.”
“No,” you said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from getting up. “Stay with me a few minutes longer
please?”
He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He leaned over and kissed your head, his hand smoothing your hair to the side. “So needy this morning,” he teased, though you didn’t care. You did feel needy, wanting him to stay and coddle you a little longer.
“So what if I am?” you challenged him. You attempted to sit up, but the heavy weight you carried made the once simple task much more difficult. Sylus immediately helped you as you cradled your large belly. You wondered just how big you could get for the remainder of your pregnancy. You already felt impossibly large, almost embarrassed by your size compared to many of the other expectant women in the village. You leaned back against the wall, sighing as you rubbed your belly restlessly.
He smiled sympathetically and kissed you again, his own hand resting over your stomach. “The baby is already so active this early in the morning,” he said, astonished.
“He must take after his father,” you said wearily as you shifted uncomfortably, “He doesn’t let me rest at all at night.”
Sylus smirked; his expression wickedly lewd. “Is that so?” He felt your belly again, feeling nonstop movements from the baby. He glanced at you, seeming intrigued by your earlier comment. “You said ‘he.’ What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”
You shrugged. “The women have told me that I am carrying low, which they said all points to me carrying a boy.”
Sylus looked puzzled by your explanation. “And you believe them?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “But I thought you would be pleased to hear the baby might be a boy?”
“I wouldn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,” he said firmly. He leaned closer, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of your head, keeping you trapped. He smirked and kissed you. “Besides, I have no intention of just having one child with you.”
You blushed and tried to look away. You gasped when he went in and kissed your cheek, his lips traveling further south as he continued down your neck. “Sy—Sylus
”
“I knew it. You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his hand continued to caress your belly, delighting in feeling his child moving inside you. “Carrying my baby, having my baby
”
“Mmm, Sylus
”
He laughed again when he felt a particularly strong kick. “I see we have a fighter,” Sylus said, smiling, “Maybe he does take after me—or she.”
You looked at him curiously. “‘She’?”
He nodded and laid back down next to you. He kissed your belly, stroking it fondly. You felt a warmth in your chest when he did that, his look of adoration and delight making you smiled fondly.
“I want both sons and daughters,” he said firmly, looking up at you. He stroked your cheek, “I want daughters as pretty as their mother. As sweet as their mother. As loving as their mother.”
You smiled, your cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. You decided to play along with him, teasingly asking, “Does that mean I want sons as strong as their father? As dependable as their father? As free-spirited as their father?”
“Is that how you see me?”
You nodded. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. Sylus raised a brow at seeing your sudden quiet disposition.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking your cheek again.
“Do...do you
”
“Do I what?”
Your cheeks brightened further.
“Tell me,” He demanded. “What is it?”
“How many children are we going to have?”
Sylus wasn’t expecting that question, so it took him a few seconds to register what you had asked him. He then laughed, making you feel embarrassed. He quickly apologized, kissing you reassuringly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I want to have a lot of children with you.”
He sat up, his hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer. “As many as my beloved will allow me to have.”
“Then,” you started hesitantly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, “If I say
I want to give you as many as you want
”
Sylus looked surprised, and then he smiled again, his lips brushing against yours. “Then, I feel like the most blessed man in the world.”
He pulled you into his embrace, showering you with sweet words and kisses.
Outside the hut, life had already begun again as people went about their day and chores. You both could hear the laughter of children running outside, mothers scolding their little ones, and men already laboring away to provide for their family.
For this particular morning, you and Sylus both decided to idle, to lounge around and enjoy the comfort of each other. As you lay in his arms again, Sylus lulled you back to sleep with stories of the future. You drifted to sleep, his deep voice describing a memory yet to come: beneath the azure summer sky and across the luscious green grassland, your children raced barefooted, their sweet bell-like laughter carried away by the playful wind.
“I feel like I am being kicked in all directions at once,” you sighed one cold evening, your hands rubbing restlessly all over your stomach. “Surely, this is not normal.”
Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. He looked down at you, your pout nearly making him laugh out of complete adoration for you. He couldn’t help but found you endearing whenever you looked frustrated and upset.
“You must be close to giving birth now, right?”
You nodded as you grabbed Sylus’ hand, guiding him to where you felt the most movements in your womb. You smiled when you looked up, seeing his surprised expression when he felt the baby’s strong kick. You answered his inquiry, “The midwife said it wouldn’t be long before the baby drops.”
As soon as you finished saying that, your expression faltered. Sylus noticed the change and he questioned you gently. You tried to brush it aside, but Sylus persisted, demanding to know what was upsetting you so suddenly.
You reluctantly relented. “Sylus,” you started, your voice growing smaller as you prepared for your confession, “I’m
scared.”
His expression softened. He turned you around to face him, but you kept your sight downcast. You could feel Sylus rubbing your cheek in comfort.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Speak to me.”
“What if
something goes
wrong.”
Sylus was immediately silent. You slowly looked up. His lips were a tight line, his eyes hardening. You could see him inhaling sharply as he seemed to try to keep his emotions under check for your sake. You then felt him guiding you to your bed.
You both sat down and Sylus was holding your hand tightly in his. At first, he didn’t say anything, almost as if he was trying to gather his thoughts and choose his words carefully. After a few beats, he began to speak:
“I do not wish to lie to you,” he said, mindful of his words, “But
I also do not like thinking of the possibility. All I can do is believe that everything will be fine.”
You looked unassured; your expression still anxious.
He pulled you into his arms. “I refuse to think otherwise,” he continued, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly, “You are strong and capable. Our baby is healthy and active. I have no reason to think differently.”
“Sylus
”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He looked apologetic as he spoke, “I wish I could take away your worries.”
You rested your cheek against his chest, eyes closed. You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This was
calming, you realized. His presence alone was comforting you, easing your fears. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, hesitant.
“Will you
stay with me? When I give birth?”
He looked at you confused.
“Please
”
He gave you a small smile, his hands cupping your face as his thumbs massaged little circles on your cheeks. “You know men are not allowed in the room.”
“Since when do you follow rules?”
At this, he laughed, conceding immediately. “You’re right,” he said, nuzzling his face against yours, “I will gladly stay with you, my beloved. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially during this time.”
You smiled against him, feeling as if the worries you had been shouldering silently was easing. You still felt scared, felt so unsure of yourself, but you knew with Sylus by your side, you could find the confidence to believe that everything would work out in the end.
“Oh!”
“What’s wrong?” Sylus looked down at you, his face hardening.
You laughed as you peered down and felt your belly. You gasped again, laughing louder, “He is really not making it easy on me!”
Sylus relaxed, smiling with you.
“Or she,” Sylus reminded you, his own hand covering your stomach. He stroked it lovingly as he continued to speak, “She could be upset that her mother is scared and anxious.”
Sylus nuzzled his face against yours again, kissing your cheek. “But I hope her mother will feel better knowing I am here.”
You smiled, touched by his attempts at comforting you. “I am,” you answered. You then poked his cheek playfully, your expression puzzled. “But why are you so insistent that the baby is a girl? I thought you said it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus reaffirmed, grinning, “But we don’t know for sure yet if it is a boy or a girl. I don’t see why we can’t entertain the idea that we could be having a daughter.”
You laughed softly. You wrapped your arms around your large belly. “You say it doesn’t matter, but why do I get the feeling that you are really hoping for a girl?”
He smirked. “Am I?”
He pulled you down into bed, helping you lay on your side, your back resting against his chest. Sylus rubbed your stomach soothingly, his warmth encompassing you. You closed your eyes peacefully as you listened to his calming voice:
“We could have a pretty little daughter,” he began, his smile infectious. “Perhaps she will be as feisty and sweet like her mother. She would be the brightest jewel in the grassland, our precious little treasure.”
“We would have to find a good husband for her,” you quipped teasingly. You opened your eyes and looked up just in time to catch Sylus’ look of utter disdain. You giggled and poked at his cheek again, making him frowned even more. “What is with that look?”
“The very idea displeases me.”
“What about it displeases you?”
“Just
everything.”
You tsked at him. “Be honest,” you said, amused, “what do you not like about this?”
Sylus groaned and looked down at you with a light glare. “You are really going to make me say it?”
You nodded with a grin.
“No boy will be good enough for her.”
You laughed.
“You’re laughing at me,” Sylus said, offended. He had genuinely thought you would be on his side on this matter. “You are actually laughing at me. How impudent.”
You rolled your eyes at him, saying, “I am sure we can find her a perfect match. After all, we were matched perfectly by our parents, right?”
Sylus looked at you defeated. “You are being very unfair.”
“I am being as fair as I can be when we are discussing about our baby, who we still don’t know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Sylus sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, still unhappy, “You really ruined my good mood.”
You looked at him with mock-pity. “And your baby keeps me up at night. And it’s your fault I can’t see my feet any more—and they are swollen because of you, too. And also—”
“Alright, alright,” he relented, amused, “I know when to call it quits.”
He pulled you back against him, his hand resting over your stomach. He murmured into your ear, “Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. The baby is already the greatest gift you can give me, so thank you, my beloved.”
You closed your eyes and smiled, letting his gentle ministrations eased you to sleep as you felt the baby you carried calming down, seemingly also lulled by their father’s presence and voice.
One by one, many of the young mothers went into labor with their child. Day after day, week after week, the painful wails and desperate cries of laboring mothers were heard throughout the village as a child was brought forth into the world.
You were the last, and everyone waited with bated breath for your child’s birth. You were already the biggest, and with each new day, you continued to grow uncomfortably bigger. The cold winter month was also settling in, stripping the grassland of its once vibrant colors and life.
On this particular evening, the first snowfall had arrived, already blanketing the grassland in a layer of snow. You had heard the laughter from children as they played, attempting to catch the falling snowflakes on their tongues. You looked down at your belly, rubbing it as you wondered what your child’s first reaction to snow would be like.
“Please come out,” you pleaded to your stubborn baby, “Don’t you want to see the snowfall, too?”
You felt a strong kick, almost as if the baby was responding negatively to your plea and question. You sighed, and huffed resignedly, “Already stubborn like your father
”
“What about me?” Sylus entered the hut just as you finished speaking.
“Nothing,” you lied, giving him a poorly-disguised smile. He knew you were fibbing, but decided it was perhaps in his best interest to not antagonize you during this time. He knew the last couple weeks had been rough on your body and with so many women having already given birth to their babies, he knew your anxiety was also increasing as your own child seemed adamant about prolonging your discomfort.
“Do you want to eat something?” Sylus offered, but you shook your head.
“I think I want to walk.”
“It’s snowing outside,” he answered.
“I know,” you responded, “Maybe I can just walk around the hut. It will help with the pressure around my hips.”
Sylus nodded.
You paced your hut restlessly, one hand on your lower back as the other cradled your large belly. You breathed in and out slowly, wincing in discomfort. Sylus walked up behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he rubbed soothing circles.
“Do you think it’s almost time?” he questioned, worried.
You were about to shake your head, but you winced again in discomfort. “I don’t know,” you admitted, as your hands rested over his appreciatively, silently urging him to press in harder. He complied.
“The last three days have been false pains,” you said, frustrated, “Does the baby not want to be born?”
He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his face against your cheek. “The baby probably feels safe inside you, so it doesn’t want to be born yet.”
“I would feel touched by such lies,” you started, turning to peck his cheek to his amusement and delight, “but, Sylus, I am too uncomfortable to put up with your thinly-veiled flatteries.”
“When have I ever flattered you?” he remarked with a teasing grin, walking around to face you. He rubbed your overdue belly with a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t help but found your frustration endearing, though he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud during this time. Instead, he guided you to bed.
You sat down in between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles around your gravid middle as he leaned down and nibbled on your neck, whispering huskily, “I know this has been tough on you, my beloved, but I have adored seeing the changes that you have been through to carry our child.”
His brazen touches felt so possessive, as if it made him proud to know that the many changes that had happened to your body was his complete doing. You whimpered and sighed as he continued, seemingly growing bolder with his intents. The featherlight kisses he peppered along your neck felt like such a stark contrast to the lustful words he whispered to your ears.
“So beautiful, so fertile,” he said, his voice so honeyed and sultry, you felt like you were pulsing inside. You could barely keep your breathing steady or your voice quiet. Sylus gazed at you intensely, his scarlet eyes seemed to shimmered with satisfaction. He appeared almost pleased by your flushed doe-eyed look. He continued in the same hushed, sensuous voice, his hands practically groping you all over, “And so voluptuous. You have filled out beautifully, my beloved.”
“Sylus
” Your voice sounded breathless as you reached down to grab at his mischievous hands. You felt a building warmth in your body, his devilish voice and tantalizing words igniting a fire inside. With his teasing ministrations on your sensitive body, you began to crave for more from him. You squeezed his hands.
“What is it?” His breathing stopped for a moment, seeing the aroused look in your eyes.
He smirked.
Sylus leaned in and kissed you, his touches shameless and greedy.
He helped you lay down and as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands were already working on undressing you. You tugged at his own clothes, and he chuckled in amusement at your impatience. He began undressing himself as well, letting all of the clothes fall to the ground. He lay down behind you, his lips trailing along your shoulder as his hand rubbed your much overdue belly. You whined as you felt him rutting against you from behind, his hard member pressing against your slick entrance.
“P-please
please, Sylus
”
You felt your insides throbbing, desperate to be filled by him. You gasped into a pillow as he answered your plea, his massive manhood slowly easing in, drawing out your heavy moans. You felt his hand pressing into your hip, gripping you tightly as he buried himself in you.
You were practically crying with relief, just feeling him sheathed inside you was easing the discomfort you had been feeling these past few weeks. You rocked back against him, a silent invitation. Sylus smirked.
He began moving, but compared to your previous lovemaking with your husband, this time Sylus was careful, his movements slow but precise, still able to draw out your pleased moans. He gauged your reactions, his own pleasure secondary as he was more concerned about your comfort.
“Sy—Sylus
m-more
”
“Are you sure?” His words came out in soft pants. Seeing you so heavy, so close to going into labor with his baby, was arousing him in a way he never knew it could. He wanted nothing more right now than to fuck you like a wild beast, to make you writhe and scream with pleasure. He was only holding himself back for your sake.
When you nodded, unaware of his inner desires, that was enough to break his restraint. You gasped as you felt his thrusts getting harder, feeling it reaching you deeper and deeper. Your fingers curled around a blanket, gripping it tightly as your face was buried against a pillow as you felt him driving into you with more force than before.
You groaned and moaned into the bed, your grip around the blanket vicelike as you felt his length piercing you with precision over and over and over again. You called out his name, your pitch higher than normal. Sylus groaned deeply at the heavenly sound, his arousal clouding his mind with only thoughts of claiming you again and again until you went into labor.
Sylus’ pants grew heavier, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you. In his eyes, you looked absolutely perfect like this. On your side, heavily pregnant with his baby, your leg held up by him as he fucked shamelessly into you. Your cries and moans were the sweetest noises he had ever heard.
Sylus reached around you with his other hand, groping your heavy, tender breast, kneading and teasing until your milk leaked and dribbled openly down your chest. At this point, you were too far gone, completely lost in this thick haze of pleasure to even feel any embarrassment or worried about your modesty. Whatever he was doing, you wanted even more from him.
“Don’t stop
don’t stop
ahh
please, Sylus, more, more, more
!” you whined over and over, his name spilling shamelessly from your lips. You could feel your pleasure was cresting, reaching new heights. “
Sylus
Sylus!”
“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt you cumming around his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, one hand squeezing your breast as his other gripped your hip so hard, you would surely bruise by morning. Without a word, he spilled into you, hot and heavy.
Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in this state of euphoria. You moaned, feeling so full. He was cumming into you so much, you felt his release dripping out of you.
You gasped, feeling a twinge in your belly.
“Oh, gods, ah
ah
ah” you panted as you reached for his hand over your breast. You whimpered as you felt an unfamiliar tightening around your stomach, the pain intermingling with the residual pleasure you were feeling. “Sy—Sylus
”
You called for his name weakly, and Sylus was immediately alerted. He looked down at you in concern, feeling your nails scraping against his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the whimpers from escaping your lips. The cramps were worsening and you just wanted to curl up. “Ah
Sylus
my belly hurts
”
At those words, Sylus pulled out of you slowly and more of his release spilled out obscenely. His breath hitched the moment he realized his seed wasn’t the only thing dripping out of you and down your thighs. There was a growing wetness on the bed beneath where you lay.
Your water had broken.
You gasped and clutched your belly, feeling the first pangs of labor as well as the baby descending lower in your womb. There was so much pressure in your hips, you began to panic. Seeing your distress, Sylus immediately dressed and rose to his feet, rushing outside the hut, his deep voice bellowed across the quiet village, “Call for the midwives! It’s time!”
Night descended over this small village once more, and the first snow of winter continued to gently fall, the ground already accumulating several inches from the past hours. The village was quiet, giving the illusion of tranquility, but within one lone hut, the atmosphere was tensed as you labored while several midwives tended to you.
“It won’t be long, child,” a midwife commented, checking the progress of your dilation. Another wiped at your sweat-soaked face with a cooling cloth, giving you a look of sympathy.
You whimpered and gritted your teeth as you breathed through the next pains.
“Easy, easy now,” you heard Sylus’ voice behind you. Cradled in between his long legs, you leaned back against his chiseled chest, panting heavily. You were grateful that he had insisted on staying with you in spite of the midwives’ initial opposition. With only one sharp glare from Sylus, he had everyone yielding to him, none daring to oppose the fearful warrior.
You felt Sylus caressing your small fingers in his hand, this simple act already keeping you grounded and calm. You whimpered quietly, “It hurts so much
”
He looked down at you helplessly. “I know, my beloved, but you’re doing so well. Stay strong.”
You moaned softly as you felt Sylus large hand massaging your hips, easing some of the pain, if only a little. As the minutes ticked by, you felt the pains getting closer and closer until you finally heard the words you were desperately waiting for:
“She is ready to deliver.”
You leaned further back against Sylus as he helped you get into position to start pushing. With your legs spread and propped up, you began pushing at the midwife’s urging. Your eyes widened as you felt the baby shifting inside, dropping lower.
“It
it feels so
big,” you gasped.
Before one of the younger midwives could make a quick remark regarding the genetics in Sylus’ family, he silenced her with a cold glare, making her cowered back. He looked down at you warmly, your hand in his. “That’s it, keep going
”
You pushed for several seconds longer, but honestly to you, it felt like an eternity. You could have sworn the pressure was intensifying, feeling the weight so heavy in your pelvis. Quick, short grunts left your lips as you bore down again. Once the pains ebbed, you collapsed back against Sylus, crying in frustration, “Nothing is happening!”
Sylus shushed you gently as the midwife reassured you that you were progressing well. You found it hard to believe. You panted softly, already feeling your energy drained. Sweat glistened down the sides of your face as you shut your eyes again, body tensing as the next pains arrived. You instinctively started pushing once more, feeling more progress being made this time. All around you, you heard hushed gasps and whispers, but you couldn’t comprehend anything said as you concentrated on birthing your baby.
Without a word, Sylus guided your hand lower and you felt between your legs. You opened your eyes in shock. “So much hair!” you exclaimed, laughing in spite of the agonizing pain you were feeling. Your fingers felt the little tufts of hair again. You couldn’t believe it. This was your baby’s. Your baby was right there.
For this brief instance, you felt your energy renewed as you gave your everything and bore down again, your laboring grunts heard throughout the room. As you pushed, your hand found Sylus’ again and you squeezed it tightly, his presence giving you the strength to persevere through this arduous ordeal.
“Just a little more,” he said, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. “You are doing so well.”
Your efforts yielded slow result, feeling the baby emerging little by little. When the contractions subsided, you leaned back against Sylus for a brief reprieve, but instead of resting, you whined in frustration when you felt the baby receding a little and negating all of your progress just now.
Sylus whispered praises and encouragement soothingly to you as the midwives also assured you everything would be fine. You barely registered any of the voices, your body demanding your full attention again as you felt the next urge to push.
“Oh, gods
”
You panted softly, your eyes clenched shut as you put all of your focus into pushing out your baby again. You unconsciously squeezed Sylus’ hand, and then you let out a tired cry when you felt the baby’s head emerging fully. You trembled and sobbed, feeling a strange mixture of pain and relief in that moment. You could hear voices all around you encouraging you on, but the words meant nothing to you as you could only focus on the excruciating pain you were enduring.
“Here comes the shoulders, push, child, push!” the midwife’s voice rang loud in the room. You reflexively shook your head, begging silently to any merciful goddess who would take pity on you and end this suffering now.
“Please
I can’t
!” Your grip on Sylus’ hand tightened, your nails digging into his flesh. If he had felt any pain, he did not voice or show it. Instead, you felt his warm breath close to your ear, his soothing voice low and only audible to you.
“I know it hurts, my beloved, but you can’t stop now.” Sylus’ voice pulled you back, and you leaned against him crying softly. He rubbed you up and down, whispering more words of comfort and encouragement. “You’re so close, so close, a little more, my beloved, just a little more
our child is almost here
”
Your breathing was ragged, but you tried to gather what little strength you had left. In spite of your exhaustion, your body was already acting on instinct, already pushing again and you groaned lowly, feeling like you were being spread more and more, feeling each shoulder painfully coming out one at a time.
“Hah
hah
Sylus
ahh
”
“I’m here, I’m here, I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his eyes darting rapidly from your face to his baby slowly emerging from you. He seemed to have stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the baby was born.
You collapsed back against him, sobbing in relief.
Not too long afterwards, the room resounded with the loud cry of a newborn.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife declared after cutting the cord that connected you and your son. The baby was immediately cleaned and prepared to be swaddled.
Sylus stilled at the announcement, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. His face broke out into a wide smile as he looked down at you. “A son, we have a son—”
The joy in the room was short-lived. Sylus was the first to notice you straining again, hearing your soft grunts and whines and seeing the pained look still on your face.
He was immediately tensed. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
You gritted your teeth and then let out another strangled cry. “It still hurts!” You turned, burying your face against his chest again, sobbing. You couldn’t even rest for a moment as you felt the now all too familiar urge to push. You gasped and panted against Sylus’ chest. It couldn’t be
this couldn’t be happening
you had just given birth already
this couldn’t be happening—
“Another child!” One of the younger midwives cried out, alerting everyone else in the hut. There were shocked gasps and mutters as many crowded around while others continued to focus on your first baby who continued to cry.
“Twins,” another muttered, shocked, “She was carrying twins.”
The eldest and most experienced of the group quickly accessed the situation, already barking out orders, “Don’t just stand there! Hurry! Prepare for the second child!”
You did not know whether it was because of the first baby or not, but your second child was coming much quicker. You had no time to rest as your body was already straining again, already feeling that painful ring of fire as your next child started to emerge. Using the last of your strength, you leaned forward, chin to your chest and you bore down, your voice strained as you struggled. You rested for a few seconds and you continued again, and within just another three hard pushes, you delivered your second child, its cry almost immediately joining its older twin.
You fell back against Sylus once more, completely spent both physically but also emotionally. Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against yours, his praises plentiful.
“Twins?” he questioned, amazed. He kissed your cheek. “Rest, my beloved, rest, I love you.”
Not too long afterwards, the afterbirths were expelled from your body. You were immediately tended to, cleaned and cared for and showered in endless praises for your remarkable feat. You smiled wearily, barely conscious and barely registering any of the competing voices in the room. You had never felt an exhaustion such as this one.
Perhaps it was because of the long, strenuous hours of labor, but it felt like you were drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher what was a dream and what was reality. You were drained entirely, but you knew you could not sleep just yet. You didn’t want to go to sleep right now. You wanted to see your babies. Babies.
You opened your eyes wearily, sensing an approaching figure. You looked up, confused, when the midwife handed you the two swaddled babies. You nervously took them both into your arms, staring down in amazement at the two small red-faced newborns fussing and cooing quietly.
You let out a choked gasp, your tears barely held back as you smiled down at your children. Your children. How surreal, how sweet, those words sounded to you.
“Identical sons,” the matronly midwife said, praising you warmly, “You did well, child.”
She helped you adjust to holding your babies, patiently explaining to you everything you needed to know. When one of your sons started crying again, she helped guide both babies to your nipples, and you gasped softly at feeling both of your sons latching on and suckling hungrily for their first meal. You could feel your milk flowing, entering hungry little mouths. You half-laughed and half-sobbed, unable to even comprehend fully the current surreal situation.
You felt so overwhelmed. You had given birth to not one, but two babies, and they were identical boys. You were now a mother to identical twin boys. You just could not seem to register that thought no matter how many times you repeated it in your head. You looked up at Sylus, and he smiled back just as helplessly, also unable to wrap his head around the current situation.
“Thank you,” he murmured instead, kissing your lips. He smiled tenderly as you gazed at him wonderstruck. “My beloved bride, you have given me not one but two sons.” He kissed you more deeply, drawing out your soft moans. He kept you in his warm, protective embrace for just a few minutes longer as the midwives cleaned the room and prepared for their leave.
He peered down at you and his children, his smile unwavering. For Sylus, there was no greater treasure in the world than the three treasures he now held in his arms. For you and for his children, Sylus was willing to face Heaven and Hell’s wrath, to do everything in his power to keep his beloved family safe and protected.
As he watched you nursed his children, his hand reached up, his finger gingerly stroking one of the twins’ cheek. The baby’s skin felt so soft and smooth and delicate. He was enthralled that these two beautiful little babies came from you, that you had went through such an arduous trial to bring his children into the world, and now you cradled them protectively against your breasts, letting them suckled the precious milk your body was providing for the newborns.
He had never seen such beauty and strength as this, and so it seemed the only thing he could do was willingly let himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you, his beloved.
In the center of the hut, there was a firepit. Flames danced within the space, warming the quaint home.
It had been a few hours since you had given birth, and after making sure both you and the babies were taken care of, everyone had left, including Sylus, leaving you alone with just your sons.
It was still so dark outside. Dawn would not break for a few more hours, so you wondered absently where your husband could have gone this late in the night. You did not idle on those thoughts for too long, your attention focused entirely on the babies you had just birthed hours ago.
You sat up in bed, gazing in wonder at the two sleeping babies sharing the wicker bassinet, still in awe that these two little ones came from your body, conceived from the love between you and Sylus. You smiled as you watched your babies sleep, unable to ignore that they were indeed bigger than most babies born in the village, but not so drastically as many had you fearing for months. You chuckled to yourself, unable to fully fathom how these two babies were inside you just this morning, and now they were asleep right next to you.
One of the twins started hiccupping, breaking you out of your spell. Instinctively, you took him into your arms, carefully holding him over your shoulder. You gently patted his small back, softly comforting your son with soothing words.
“Motherhood looks lovely on you.”
You looked up when you heard Sylus’ voice as he entered the hut covered in a light dusting of freshly-fallen snow. You noticed he was carrying a basket of food in one hand and an extra bassinet in the other. There was also a fur blanket strewn over his shoulder. You raised a brow in confusion, and he chuckled in response.
“Everyone’s been so kind,” he explained as he set everything where they needed to be. He adjusted the second bassinet next to the first one before turning to face you. You handed him the baby in your arms, watching as he carefully placed the infant in his own bassinet.
Almost immediately, both babies started fussing and crying softly. You laughed quietly as you leaned in closer to Sylus, your arms wrapped around his. “They have never slept away from one another before,” you remarked, finding the situation heartwarming.
Sylus nodded, smiling softly. He helped you back into bed to rest before he knelt down on the ground between the two bassinets. He lightly rocked both bassinets at the same time, pleased when his sons calmed down, the gentle motion lulling them back to sleep.
As you lay on your side, watching this sweet scene, you felt so much love and joy in your heart. You yawned softly, and at Sylus’ gentle urging, you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep as well.
When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you saw the two newborns tucked in Sylus’ arms as he cradled and rocked them while pacing around the hut. His deep, gentle humming was joined only by the warm crackling fire in the hut and the soft whistling winter wind outside.
You felt at peace, as if the world had quieted down. This moment in time felt so surreal, like a sweet dream you never wished to wake up from.
“I love you,” you found yourself saying sleepily, alerting Sylus.
He smiled back and walked over, settling down in bed next to you. You sat up, taking one of the babies from Sylus. You leaned closer to him, gentle eyes flitting back and forth between the two identical babies you both held with so much love and adoration.
Warmer than the fire, you heard Sylus’ gentle murmur, “I love you, too, my beloved.”
The years had rolled by on the grassland, life remaining, more or less, unchanged. This era of prosperity continued with the village now under Sylus’ leadership. You had seen six springs passed since your marriage to Sylus, and from this union, you two were blessed again and again and again.
The warriors are home! came the familiar words from the village and carried all the way down to the field where the sheep grazed.
“Mother, Mother, Father is home! Father is home!” your children ran by you barefooted, many already leaving you behind to rush to the village entrance.
Your twins helped you to your feet, and your hand settled on the large, round bump you carried once more. Another child was on the way. Your seventh.
Swaddled and resting on your back was your sixth, barely ten months old. He cooed happily, seemingly sensing his older siblings’ excitement. You smiled, always delighting in hearing your children’s sweet laughter.
You carefully made your way back to the village, listening fondly as your twins chatted and laughed. They were the spitting image of their father from head to toes, and while they inherited little of your physical appearance, they gained many of your mannerisms and quirks instead.
When you and the twins finally arrived at the village square, a crowd had already formed. After months apart, families were reunited again. This familiar scene had played out so many times before in the past, and yet you never tired of it. As always, there would be a celebration, for the glory and victories these brave men have brought home, but more importantly, to celebrate families reuniting once more.
As you and the twins treaded through the dense crowd, you saw your beloved husband towering in the center. Sylus already had his youngest daughter—barely three—sitting on his shoulders, her little legs swung over his shoulders and her small hands tugging at his hair happily. Your other daughter and son danced circles around their father asking for their turn to be held by him. You laughed softly as you witnessed Sylus’ overjoyed but helpless expression as he tried to accommodate his children.
At the sound of your familiar laughter, Sylus looked up. Seeing your approaching figure, his crimson eyes lit up with joy. He carefully set his daughter down to join her siblings. The twins immediately left your side and ran to their father cheering and already showering him with questions and praises. He greeted his sons affectionately, kneeling down to embrace all of his children and accept their kisses.
Your youngest son was now held in your arms, balanced on your hip as you stood in your place. You gazed at Sylus with the same love and joy as the spring when you had married him. Sylus slowly stood up, sighing blissfully as he took in the sight of you round and heavy again with his child.
“I’m home,” he said the familiar words warmly, and your heart swelled with happiness and love.
“Welcome home,” you responded fondly, smiling as he crossed the distance with just a few short strides. He gathered you into his arms, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and scent only he possessed. You sighed happily against him, only broken out of your daze when you heard your youngest son giggling. He squirmed against you as he held his little arms out for his father. You smiled as Sylus took the baby boy from you, easily holding him in one arm.
Beneath the azure sky, in his loving embrace, you remembered a story Sylus had once told, a memory that was yet to come. The sweet bell-like laughter of your children was carried on the playful wind across the luscious grassland. Surely this moment must be it, you thought, unable to fathom a greater happiness than this.
Sylus knelt down before you, his lips touching your growing belly fondly, his touch gentle and loving.
“My beloved.”
You looked down lovingly at your husband, your heart beating quietly for him as he gently guided your youngest son’s hand to your round belly. He spoke softly to the baby boy, his voice sweet and tender. Sylus looked up, the depths of his love for you reflected in his crimson eyes.
In this moment, you also recalled the elders had long ago told tales of a paradise after life, but you wondered how there could be a greater heaven than the one on the grassland with your lover—your destined half.
Sylus.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 25 days ago
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hope you feel better soon!
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I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!
#ask#non mdzs#My health journey has been: Hernia -> acid reflux -> Vocal pain due to aforementioned reflux -> chest infection.#I'm terrified to know what's about to hit me next. Please let it be something kind. PLEASE.#The consequence of living with linguists is that you'll wake up with a wacked up voice -#suddenly you're sitting you down in front of a program called something like Praat having your shimmer and jitter levels calibrated.#They gave me a GRBAS of 33012. I have a fun thing called a pitch break where a whole octave just does not exist.#My vocal pain was bad enough I ended up seeing a speech pathologist and that whole experience was super neat!#I learnt a lot about voice - to be honest I might make a little comic on it after some more research. Fascinating stuff.#For example; your mental perception of our voice modulates the muscles of the vocal folds and larynx.#meaning that when you do have changes (inflammation = more mass = lower frequency)#your brain automatically attempts to correct it to what it 'should sound like'. Leading to a lot more vocal strain and damage!#And it gets really interesting for trans voice care as well - because the mental perception of one's voice isn't based on an existing sampl#So a good chunk of trans voice training is also done with the idea of finding one's voice and retraining the brain to accept it. Neat!#Parkinsonial Voice also has this perception to musculature link! The perception is that they are talking at a loud/normal volume#but the actual voice is quite breathy and weak. So vocal training works on practicing putting more effort into the voice#and retraining the brain to accept the 'loud' voice as 'normal'.#Isn't the human body fascinating?#Anyhow; Now I have vocal exercises and strategies to reduce strain and promote healing.#Which is a lot better than my previous strategy of yelling AAAH in my car until my 'voice smoothed out'.#You can imagine the horror on the speech path's face. I am an informed creature now.#I'm my own little lab rat now. I love learning and researching. Welcome to my tag lab. Class is dismissed.#I'll be back later with a few more answered asks </3 despite everything I'm still going to work and I need the extra sleep.#Thank you for the well wishes! And if you read all of that info dump; thank you for that as well!
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pato-roldnart · 10 months ago
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Some friendly Quidditch match for @hdwickedwixen zine :3
He caught the snitch!
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cupcakeinat0r · 1 month ago
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Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3
Part 9
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Wc. 7.7k
Miguel waits in his car, his gaze not fixated on anything specific; simply forward. He rests his forearm on the car door, window down. The thick hairs of his arm raise as his mind ventures, replaying the past few hours in his mind. A low hum stirs against his chest. There’s a sort of glow he emulates as he sits there idly, smizing at nothing in particular. He probably looks like a total creep with how he’s grinning in his car, alone, looking off into space. No passenger. You've sat there for the past few months, from campus to your place, and vice versa. But today, you aren’t there, yet he’s happy. His heartbeat intensifies, his stomach contracting once or twice due to unfiltered chuckles. As he waits patiently in the car, he lets it consume him, the memory of that morning, and he closes his eyes.
“Okay, what do you think?” you reach your arms out as if to present a prize, and the winner is Miguel. Miguel, who looks uncomfortable in your too-small-for-him lounge chair but shows no sign of strain on his face, fixes his glasses and observes with love-sickened eyes. After a simple, romantic breakfast at his place, he insisted on taking you back home so that you could get ready. Then after dropping you off, you figured he might as well stay so he can take you to the ceremony, too.
“Is it too much?” You give a little twirl.
His eyes scan thoroughly scan you. “Jesus
 How’d I get so lucky?” The question sounds genuine, as if needing an actual answer. “You’re beautiful, mama.”
This makes you smile in return. You look to the mirror to see if Miguel is right (obviously, he is), running your hands over your pre-planned graduation outfit. Today, you receive your hard-earned Master’s Degree, and even though throughout the year you were convinced you wouldn’t be, you’re feeling more nervous than ever. “Picked it myself.” Your voice wavers just a hint. Has two years really gone by so fast? More specifically, the second year of your grad. The first one felt like eons. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t score an Adonis of a professor that year.
Miguel stands from his chair and comes from behind, his hands snaking through the gap between your arms and waist, holding you tightly against his plush exterior, “I just wish I was the one who got it for you.” and a kiss is pressed to your temple. His grasp seemed to soothe your nerves a bit, your body sinking into his natural warmth and plush. You can see his face through the mirror, the absence of doubt and judgment in his expression making you fall all over again. You really were a lucky girl. He looks at you with such reverence. And maybe a touch of arousal. Those aren’t his keys you feel on your backside.
“Oh, stop. You’ve given me more than enough, Miguel. All I need is you.” With his chin resting on the top of your head, you reach to cup his face, a picture-perfect moment displayed on the full-length mirror. He whispers into your ear, “Giving you lessons doesn’t count, that’s just my job. te voy a dar el mundo, mi Vida.”
“Right, right, and I’m guessing giving me that necklace was a part of your job description?”
You win a rich, dark chuckle from him, but he ignores you, still sprinkling kisses on your skin, his bifocals bending out of place at times. You giggle and even try to break away, but he doesn’t budge. You fight the urge to kiss back just to spite him.
“Or that skirt? Or those shoes? Or that one purse? Damn, how much does the school pay you?”
And before you can further argue, he presses more kisses onto you, almost sending both of you to topple over. “Just let me spoil you, mama.” He speaks against your jaw.
“Miguel!” the gravel chuckle of his voice continues to rumble against the side of your neck. You can’t complain and never will, but the difference between Miguel now versus the Miguel you met still leaves you baffled to this day. Or it isn’t much of a difference or change, really, but rather an unmasking. This Miguel was just stowed away until further notice; placed in the backest corner of the freezer to never see the light of day. This is the person Miguel was dying to show, he just needed the right person to coax it out of him. Now you have him attacking you with wet kisses in the middle of your living room, his hulking arms locked around you with no chance at an escape.
“Right, enough fooling around and help me into this, will you!” Reluctantly, he’ll let you move your hair for better access to the still-open zipper of your outfit.
“Fine. On one condition.”
Sigh. “Yes?”
“Un besito.”
“Oh my God.”
“Take it or leave it. Last offer. Don’t make me make it two.”
“Given there’s no one else around to zip me up, I guess I have no choice. Just my luck.” you joke, eagerly leaning your head back against his chest, granting his kiss entry to your neck, your chin, and then lastly, your lip. And then one kiss turned to multiple. If you weren’t so completely lost in his tongue and lips, you’d notice his hand rested and wrapped around your neck. The minor callouses provided a sensation that only added to the fervor of the exchange. Once y’all finally pull away, low eyes traveling in triangles, he politely requests, “Step forward for me.”
You move forward slightly so as to give him space to zip you up. But before he can do the job, he takes a second to look over the details of your back, a part of your body his hands have gotten to know very well, but his eyes haven’t gotten the same pleasure of. Miguel was very good at respecting your boundaries and wishes, which meant a lot (a lot) of making out, but nothing further than that. He notes to himself how soft it looks, the hills and curves of your spine creating a Grecian masterpiece.
And you can practically feel his eyes roam every inch of exposed skin, making you feel like art. You think to say something, but you’d rather let Miguel have this moment, and you let yourself have it, too. You’d often think about what it’d be like to see Miguel’s reaction to you. All of you. He’s made you feel nothing but like a deity for the duration of your budding, unlabeled relationship, and you’ve been fully clothed at all times. You can only imagine how he’ll act when you’re completely bare.
You know for sure he loves you. He said so. And he’s shown it to you. You’ve decided that being that vulnerable with him is something you want, it’s only a matter of when.
You start to hear the friction of the tab pulling the teeth together, one by one, that’s how slow Miguel was going. Unable to resist the urge, he stops the zipper and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the back of what’s left of your exposed neck. “I could do this every day, you know?” he admits softly, like a hymn. You turn, not completely, just so that your face is to him, “‘Everyday’? For how long?” You know the answer, kind of, but there’s still curiosity in what he’ll say. There are so many instances where you wait for Miguel to say the wrong thing; to do something that’ll break this spell, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t have the capacity to. He’s perfect in your eyes.
“For however long you’ll have me. Which I’m really hoping is forever or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.”
Damn, he said the right thing. People can say his stab at humor is mediocre all they want, but Miguel never ceases to make you snicker. If you opened an Oxford Dictionary to ‘adorable’, it’d have his picture.
“Who am I kidding, you could absolutely humiliate me and I’d still say ‘thank you’.”
“Oh, this’ll make some good blackmail.” you finally turn around to tauntingly wave your index finger at his amused expression.
“Oye, Final exam grades aren’t due ‘til next month, so I’d be careful if I were you.” his brow perks when he says ‘you’, and your only response is a sarcastic ‘Oooooo’ before you’re muffled by the millionth kiss of the day, but who’s counting?
“There. Secured. Anything else, princesa?”
You take a deep breath, getting in one last overall look in the mirror before facing him, “Okay, yeah, I’m ready. Just need my chauffeur.” You look over at Miguel, who looks back at you confused, then looks around knowing fully well there’s no one else except the two of you.
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
Ha ha ha. Very Funny. If expressions could talk, this is what yours would’ve said.
Miguel smiles, taking your hand to kiss the back of it, and rubs your knuckles with his thumb as an apology. “Your chariot awaits, your majesty.”
Wait, where is he going?
“Mig, stadium’s that way.” your thumb points toward the window next to you, the street that leads to the graduation growing farther and farther.
Despite that a mistake has obviously been made, Miguel looks indifferent, eyes aimed straight at the road before them with no sign of a doubt. He huffs from his nose before responding, “I know,” his thumb runs across the back of your hand, “I have something for you, though.” He takes your hand up to his lips, a smile creeping up on your features.
“At your office?”
“Accidentally left it there.”
What is he up to?
His crooked smile tells you a different story. Miguel can feel you questioning him. You can see him physically gather his words in the driver's seat.
“Remember when
 we were in the library one of those first nights and we exchanged books?”
You nod. How could you forget?
“And I told you about Gabriella?”
You nod again. He’s asking obvious questions here, it’s sort of scaring you.
“That was my first time talking about her with someone. In years.” His chest and belly deflate as if releasing a weight he’s held onto, “And you’re also the first person who’s said her name out loud. Someone other than me. In a very long time.”
You listen intently, everything that has happened up until now making more sense with this piece of information. You always knew the painful fact that Miguel has been by himself mostly since starting teaching, but it stings even more knowing that he’s never opened up to anyone about this. No one to turn to. No one to be soft with. Sure, he had his friends, from what you remember him telling you about his hero, multi-dimension, whatever-it-was days, but to your understanding, they all left him alone. By means of Miguel’s requests. He wanted those days to be over completely.
“She was beginning to feel like- I don’t know. Like a figment of my imagination. Photos and videos that I rewatch and stare at every single day were starting to
 go stale,” this admission makes him wince in shame, “I replay them over and over again
 and nothing new. I know what happens in each and every single one of them. And it ends up hurting every single time. I didn’t know how much more I could’ve taken before stopping altogether.” His lips purse, the guilt seeping from every inch of him. “Well, at some point, I even became afraid. Terrified that I was starting to forget the little things about her, or worse, that I’d move on,”
You didn’t even notice, but the car had been parked minutes ago, it’s only when he turns his face to look at you, eyes beginning to gloss, when you realize the car had stopped.
“Until that night.” His narrow gaze softens.
“The night at the library
 I told you things that I hadn’t even thought about until that night. Like, for example, how she liked to match the color of her hair ties to her shirt,” Miguel allows himself to softly beam with this memory, “or whenever I’d fall asleep on the couch, she’d always, always, place a blanket on my feet so that ‘the monsters don’t get me’,” you both giggle at this, “Like those things? They had just come back to me in that moment.”
You both had entered campus grounds and turned to his office door, and he whipped out his keys, the metal hitting against the doorknob. The halls are quiet and hollow. It feels like the end of an academic year.
“I just never thought I could possibly let those things slip.” His voice lowers, an air of disbelief in his words.
“Will you ever stop loving her?”
“Of course not. Never.”
“Then she will live on forever. You’ve proven to yourself that you’ll never let the small things leave. They’ll always come back to you.”
Miguel smiles to himself, thinking about this.
He heads toward his bookshelf, reaching for something, but you can’t see given that he himself blocks the entire view of it. “When I hear you say her name,” you see his head bow down at something in his hand, “You sound so
 lively... If that makes sense? Like
 as if she were still here, as if you knew her. It meant a lot to me. Even in the way you talked about her. Maybe it explains why I was able to recall so much.”
He turns around to you, and you can only make out something small in his hand; something blue?
“I figured that, if she were still here, she’d want you to have this.”
He unfurls his hand and out blossoms a satin blue ribbon formed in a rosette; the words ‘first place’ are displayed in the center. “Wear it today?” He stands before you, the dwarfed ribbon sitting in his hand. His request sounds more like a plea.
“Her teammates gave it to her when she scored their winning goal. She was so happy. It was her last game before she-” Both gazes leave the ribbon and land on each other, glossed and daring to well.
He clears his throat, “She used to- used to show it off any chance she could,” His eyes well up, but regardless of presuming tears, he looks down at the ribbon with a soft smile.
“Miguel,” Your head slowly shakes from side to side, “I can’t.”
“Yes you can,” he persists, “Take it, it’s yours.” He insists through choked words. He places the ribbon in your hand, folding your fingers in, hoping that you’ll accept his gift.
Here stands a man you’ve been falling so hard for for the past year, who is not only giving you a piece of his late daughter’s life, but insisting you take it. You haven’t been around enough to know what love is, but with what Miguel is doing right now, you’re starting to think maybe this is what it might look like. When you started seeing Miguel, who was your professor, you didn’t think all those thoughts of him being yours would ever have come true. You knew it was silly, childish, and most importantly, out of the question. Yet here he is, giving you a piece of himself. This isn’t casual anymore. So he did really mean those three sacred words said last night and this morning.
After letting the ribbon sit there for just seconds but what feels like minutes, you take his hand back, but the ribbon is now pressed between you and Miguel’s palms. You give it a tight squeeze, taking in a deep breath. “It’s ours.”
You look up at him, a trail of a tear down your cheek. “Because I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” a bright smile grows behind your wet eyes. “And I’m really hoping it’s forever, or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.” You actually laugh, and so does he, pooling eyes and all.
“You’re stuck with me. I love you.”
With those words, it was like the past five years of being alone became all worth it. All the lonely nights, all the predictive mornings, and the dune of a civilian life he was leading came crashing down on him because he knew a new one was dawning. Still civilian, but now, he has someone to put all the love he has to offer into. All his fears, all his insecurities, it all dissolved. The label of your relationship was blurry, uncertain if this was the kind of thing you entertained for only a bit and never spoke of again or something worthwhile. If last night wasn’t a confirmation of the answer, then this moment was, marking it as the official beginning of a romantic, exclusive, official relationship.
“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te quiero. I love you. I love you
 I love you
” his soft declarations are muffled in kisses on any spot he could get to. All those fantasies he’s conjured in his mind where you two live together, share a life, make a life
 or two
 or three
 or however many you’re willing to carry, he doesn’t care, all of those scenarios now seem like promises. Like a nearby reality. Solitary nights dreaming about you in ways that leave him hot and bothered will finally come to an end. On a more suggestive note, He’ll finally be able to get through class without raging hard-ons again.
“I love you.” You manage to breathe out between kisses. Arms wrap around the back, hands wrap around the neck, fingers rake through tussles of hair, and legs begin to lose balance and find their way to the edge of Miguel’s desk. Visions become blurred, ears begin to grow hot, and heart rates quicken with beats large enough to feel on each other’s chests. You two are much too deep in it that you don’t hear the creaking of the wood underneath you. “Yes. Please.” Miguel hears your whisper, moving his head to look you in the eye. “You mean
?” He asks gently, to which you nod, repeating your plea. Without much thinking, Miguel taps your thigh. This was it. Miguel didn’t hear you say the exact words, but he knew. He knew what you were saying yes to. You, much less thinking, instinctively raise your leg, allowing Miguel to prop you onto the desk. “I love you. So much, it’s crazy, Miguel. God, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” You mewl in his ear, and in return, Miguel, with softly knitted brows, lets out a pathetic groan. Miguel may be quiet in everyday life, but when it came to the two of you, alone, he wasn’t afraid of being vocal about what he liked, and right now, with what you’re saying plus your legs wrapping securely around his waist seemed to have both an audible and physical effect on him. A big physical effect.
Is this the right spot to do this right now? Couldn’t y’all get in trouble? Was this even a good time?
These are questions that a sane person would probably think of, but with the current circumstances, you simply couldn’t give a damn, let alone Miguel. Even if you tried, you don’t think you would’ve even had enough brain wattage to string a single thought with Miguel touching you like this. However, if you had the luxury of logic, you’d know that:
1. Getting in trouble isn’t of concern since faculty are either at home starting the Summer they’ve been so impatiently waiting for, and students are at home doing the same or at the stadium.
2. Given that the ceremony won’t start until another 2 hours from now, it’ll give you both plenty of time. The traffic would’ve been dreadful anyway, so might as well just show up at the last minute.
3. What better place than here
 where you two met.
You breathe heavily along with Miguel, “Remember
 the first meeting
 I sat right in front of this desk,” Miguel makes an effort to listen, but he’s currently too occupied with straining his hard-on against your heat, “Mm-oh
now look at us.” your breathless voice and coquettish smirk goes straight to Miguel’s cock, the feeling of his pants shrinking in size making him hot all over. Trapping your lips between his over and over again. You're pretty much without oxygen at this point, but you don’t care, it feels amazing. His teeth on your lips, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass deeper against his length. Your fingers tugged onto his now disheveled curls and he whined. He whined.
“Mama, you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve imagined this moment. Fuck, am I dreaming again?” His words hit your skin like the thick air after a calm rain.
You cup his face in your hands, pulling him from your neck, and you’re met with a lust-drunken, devoted worshipper; a big man that’s been stricken of sex for far too long. In doing so, you notice the ribbon still in your hand, which knocks a bit of sobriety back into you. It’s almost like Miguel read your mind because the same alarm goes off in his head. With that, the two of you are quick to mend one tiny problem.
Miguel, still between your legs, reaches over to lower any pictures he has of Gabriella, faced down on the shelf. As for you, you stash the ribbon safely in a drawer right behind you. Gabriella shouldn’t be present for this.
Capturing you in a kiss again, your hand ends up untucking his shirt, resting on his stomach, your fingers caressing his skin. He huffs, slightly tickled by your soft touch along his belly. The corner of his lip curves into a dorky smirk as you sneak your hand into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, pushing past his dark happy trail. “Oh fuck. Haven’t been touched like this in so long,” The clank of his belt buckle rings in your ears, making you pulsate, “I need you. So fucking badly.”
“Keep talking. Please.” You murmur, unbuttoning his shirt, unveiling a plethora of chest hair covering a body fit to raise your future children.
“So lonely, honey
 miss you every night when I come home. Miss you so much in the mornings, it hurts.”
Once his shirt is on the floor, with hands and eyes, you revel in all his glory: six feet and nine inches of caramel deliciousness, coated in equal parts of muscle and fluff. You could come undone just from this sight.
His hand holds your chin with a soft caress of his thumb, “I used to look a lot better back then. I’ll work on it.”
You pull him down by his neck to eye level in protest. “Don’t you dare change a single thing on this body. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Oh, that made his dick twitch. Your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders while the other is in his hair, smashing faces. Miguel, with no hesitation, swipes everything off the desk and instantly pushes you onto your back, his soft husky exterior pressing you against the cold wood. Tongues are down throats. He stutters as his dick twitches, “Tell me I can eat you out.” The question and tone of voice alone make your back arch. You kiss even deeper, tongues intertwining as he moans in your mouth.
“God, yes, please, Mig, please-”
He gives a vicious squeeze to your ass, reminding you of his pure strength, “That’s not what I want. Usa tus palabras, mamita.” Your begging makes his cock ache, but he needs to hear the words. He needs to know you want this as much as he does. He needs your permission.
Your top lip curls before you speak again through hooded eyes, “Professor,” the name catches him off guard, “please
 fuck me with your mouth.”
You were playing a dangerous game. Before you was a sexually deprived middle-aged man who’d been silently pining for you since day one, and you were begging him to treat your cunt like a 5-star meal. Having a gorgeous girl like you pleading for him to tongue fuck you like you deserved, it was driving him crazy. He wasted no time going down to the most sacred corner of this divine body.
“Funny
 I zipped this up not even half an hour ago.”
“Hey, hey, careful, I still have a ceremony to wear this to.”
You had a point. And as if you were a gift, he bunches the fabric high enough to reveal some panties he’d recently given you. If it wasn’t for him wanting to last for both hours until the ceremony, he would’ve came right then and there. He looks at you with darkened eyes, a gaze intense enough to strip the cockiness from you, your cheeks growing hot from the act, “What? I assumed this was gonna happen later-”
Miguel cuts your sentence short with a French kiss to your clit through the thin lace, the combination of his nose, tongue, and breath on your heat making your thighs shake. “ So wet
 you always this wet during class? Fuck.” With how Miguel was moaning and groaning against your sensitive skin, you’d assume he got more pleasure in giving you head than you did receiving it. Your hand darts for his scalp, the other holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life once he hooks the panty with his finger to move it out of the way, pursuing even more thirstily now. The wood creaks with each buck of your hips, but with the way Miguel’s arms hold your weight on his wide shoulders effortlessly, it doesn’t phase you. Breathless prayers of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the table. You can feel the bundle in your core form as your whimpers turn to wails.
“Mig, s’good, feels so good. I’m close, pleasepleaseplease-”
Meanwhile, his eyes were practically to the back of his head, hips pathetically bucking to the matching rhythm of your hips as he took turns treating your clit like a lollipop and your entrance like a fleshlight. “M’gonna- aw fuck
 voy a cuidarte, mamita, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” you hear through a whine before his tongue is back at it again. His hands take turns squeezing your thighs tighter around his head and occasionally using his forefingers to stimulate your sensitive bud. His glasses start to fog, and his eyes are covered by humid lenses. This was starting to obscure his perfect view of you and your euphoric expressions, and he just couldn’t have that. So, he pulled away for only a millisecond just to basically rip them off and he was right back to devouring your weeping cunt. There’s no way he was missing this.
You’re choked whines signify the peak, your body trembling uncontrollably. This will be the first of many, and he’s only getting started. When the man promises to take care of you, he’s gonna take care of you.
He spends the remainder of your climax lovingly rubbing his fingers up and down your pussy, making sure you ride it out all the way to the very end.
“Good, baby? You okay?” he purs back into your ear, tenderly caressing your thighs and planting gentle kisses of reassurance on your face. You nod with half-lidded eyes, catching your breath before replying ‘yes’.
“Tell me what you want, mama.”
“Fuck me, professor. Please?”
“Say that again.”
You look at him above you, your legs pulling his waist closer so that his aching length meets your pulsing core, “Please, I want you to fuck me, professor.” Whilst maintaining eye contact, Miguel reaches down to put your hand on the bulge. “Look what you do to me.” Your theory of his size is confirmed.
“This what you wanted?”
“Need it.”
“C’mere.”
Miguel sits you up, telling you to relax since ‘he’ll do all the work’. He carries you to his office couch. He plops onto the cushions with you straddled on his lap. While he has your tongue entwined with his, he releases his cock from the restraints of his boxers, the base erects against his lower belly. Not wanting to waste another second, although the view of it was mesmerizing, you sit up on your knees to line yourself up with him, but Miguel sits you back down, “No hay prisa, mamita, need to get you ready, but first,” His hand snakes to the back of the zipper, and the dress unveils, “Need to see all of you, beautiful.” you seem to knock the air out of him as he lets his hands explore you, your breasts the perfect hand full. “You’re so fucking hot.” He even looks up for a moment and thanks God for blessing him with someone like you, making you look down at the endearing gesture.
Your body goes limp once he laps at your chest, sucking and pulling like it was his first meal in ages. The feeling of his tongue circulating your hardened buds made you clench around nothing. He has you in a bear hug, front sides pressed against each other. The small room seems to disappear around the two of you, totally forgetting where you are, in both space and time. It’s just you, Miguel, and the beautiful sounds of pure, raw pleasure.
“Mig, wanna make you feel good, too.”
Miguel unwillingly pulls away, only half-hearing what you said, and not given even a chance to process. You’ve already positioned yourself on your hands and knees next to him on the couch. Kitten licks and tender sucks to the tip send Miguel’s head falling against the back of the couch. You know he’s needing more when his hips buck upward, and you’re more than willing to give it to him. Occasionally, you’d rest your head against his stomach chub to give him a few rewarding strokes, admiring his size, just to let it sink back into your hollowed mouth. You managed to get Miguel growling, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips as you tend to his stiffened cock that you’ve daydreamed of tasting.
“Baby, please, slow down, not gonna last long.” But it was no use. You were relentless on his aching manhood. The only way to get you to go easy on him was to reach over your ass and pump his fingers into you, so that’s exactly what he did. You whine with his tip in the back of your throat, but you’re able to still keep him in. To Miguel’s hopes, you do slow down, the mutual pleasure putting both of you in sync.
“Let’s come together, mamita, hm? Can I put another one in, baby?”
He takes your eye contact as a cue to put in a third, thick finger, eliciting a high-pitched moan against his veiny shaft. Having both ends of you completely filled was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming, but it’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt. There’s no one else you would’ve rathered have you like this than your Mig.
His fingers get faster, and your strength to keep his cock inside is dwindling, but for him, you try, nonetheless.
“That’s it, mamita, that’s it
” His fingers are unbelievably fast at the point, droplets sent flying and falling onto the fabric of the couch. That’s something he’ll worry about later, but right now, his goal was to get you absolutely fucked out and coming all over his hand. Unable to hold it anymore, you free him from your mouth, letting yourself cry and whine freely as he finger fucks your second orgasm out of you. Still determined to have him come with you, you pump him with your hand as you ride off your high on his hand. Miguel wants to praise you, but his panting and mewling get in the way. You had this gentle giant making what would be considered embarrassing noises, but symphonic music to your ears. At the first sign of his juices, you place him back into your mouth, but this time, he holds your hair and fucks up into your mouth in short, fast, desperate thrusts until he’s finished.
You don’t even let him have a moment to breathe once you start kissing up his happy trail and to his stomach; what once was a pack of abs has given way to pudge. You kiss a little higher, giving his pec a gentle lick where it’s most sensitive, making him sharply inhale as a result. They proceed to the valley of his pecs, up his neck, to his jaw, and cheek. If Miguel still had doubts in the back of his mind about your love for his body, they’ve vanished now.
Your lips meet now, and various soft ‘I love you’s’ are exchanged.
“Just want you to sit back n’ relax now, mami. Wanna see that gorgeous face,” Holding onto your head and lower back, he carefully lays you on the couch, “Can I?” The gentle dominance this man radiated was good enough to make you already contemplate marriage. The expression on his face reflected utter devotion and praise. You thought his kind were only written in books.
“Of course, professor. Gotta repay you for all those private sessions.” Even after two orgasms, you still had to keep the cliche going. Miguel was unable to help a small chuckle. He had no problem playing right along, though. “You made it so hard to focus in class, you know that?” His voice is dark and low, a stark contrast to the noises he was making just a minute ago. He speaks while spreading your legs like precious artifacts, lining himself up. Finally.
“Sitting there all gorgeous n’ smart. Drove me insane.” He whispers into your ear, his leaking tip making a connection to your entrance. “And then having the audacity to help your classmates? How dare you have a heart just as beautiful.” He kisses you while sliding inside, muffling your gasp.
He tuts against your mouth, “Yo se, bebita, me too
mmnnshit,” His hand caresses your hair in an effort to soothe at least some tension, “I’ll go slow, mama, m’kay? Gonna take care of y- oh fuck,” His forehead presses against yours, his free hand holding onto yours as he slowly slides in and out, gauging how deep you can take him. The stretch induces a euphoric pain, causing you to squeeze his hand, but he squeezes right back, your cunt sucking him in all too well.
Miguel starts to go stupid once he’s halfway in. The sensation has him beginning to babble, choked words coming out in a gentle lull.“Que rico
Feel good, mamita? It’s okay mama, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you.” He talks delicately as he continues to go in and slowly draw out with only half of himself, just to be sure you're warmed up enough for all of him. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on breathing, but it only makes it more difficult. It worries Miguel. “Too much, baby? I’ll stop.” And just as he’s about to pull out, you use your other hand that was clinging onto the arm of the chair to stop him, “Nonono, please,” He lowers himself, still connected, “Need you, Mig. Please, keep going, don’t stop.” You beg, the undeniable need in your voice making Miguel go weak. He puts all his weight on you, cautiously going all the way inside. When he gets as deep as he possibly can, his tip kissing you right in the perfect spot, he pecks your forehead before telling you, “You look so pretty taking it, beba.”
Miguel’s words are slurred as he begins fucking you, thick fingers playing at your clit as he does. He can’t help but prop himself on his elbow just to get a look of himself going in and out of you, the slick sounds and what looks like a bulge of his cock sending him into insanity, driving him to go desperately faster. He gets lost in the way every time he pumps in, he creates a hill in your stomach. You look down, too, seeing what he’s seeing, and it only makes his name fall from your mouth embarrassingly loud, as well as telling him how good he feels and how much you love him, every syllable coming out with pure verity.
Not now since you’re too busy getting amazingly fucked, but later on, you’ll surely think about how good of stamina Miguel has for his age. He should’ve been tired by now, but the man was rutting and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon. When his mouth wasn’t latched onto yours, he’d speak nonsense to you. He’d let out long, exasperated ‘Yes’s’ into your ear, unafraid to let his unfiltered noises fill the room. When he knew he was being too rough, he’d slow his thrusts until he was dragging his dick in and out of you, pumping ever so slowly and lovingly. It was then he’d be able to coherently form sweet words of nothings, “I’m obsessed with you. Wanna keep you like this forever.”
Whether he was going rabid or making sweet love, Miguel still made sure to hold your hand through it all.
He can feel himself coming soon. As if he needed to be deeper into you, he only stops for a nanosecond to bring your knees over you, pressing you even deeper into the couch, so as to better ram your already abused pussy. Your panting heightens in pitch. “Right there, sweetheart? Aww Fuck, there it is.” His big, strong hands hold your knees in place where they frame your head. Your bodies are sweaty, only enhancing the lewd sounds of his hips smacking your ass with each thrust. When your pussy flutters around him, it makes his eyes roll back. He’s already made you orgasm twice by now, getting his juices all over you, but he needs more. “I can’t stop.” He stammers through a slack jaw.
“Mig
dunno if I c-can
 going-”
He slows down his rhythm, hands cupping your face to make eye contact, “Baby, please, gimme one more, just one more. Promise.”
With a nod of your head, he buries you in his arms, his face in your neck, body on body, leaving no space between you, and he rams into you like no tomorrow, luring one last orgasm from you. The way the curve of his belly and muscles rubbed against you was the icing on the cake. You feel Miguel getting closer with the way he moans into the crook of your neck. You are, too.
The dam breaks loose with an outcry of his name, to which Miguel lifts his head to kiss your tears as you peak, his own following right behind. Once it starts to descend, a rain of butterfly kisses fall on your face, “I’ve got you, sweetie,” he coos, “I love you so much
 mamita,” he gently calls to get your attention, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You at least accomplish a weak smile, requiting the love with a kiss to his swollen lips.
There was no need to rush, so the two of you just lay there, embracing each other.
“Miguel,”
“Hm?” He hums against your skin.
“I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”
“Me too.”
6:49 PM.
You don’t know how, but in one hour, Miguel and you were able to go back to your place, shower (separately. You two knew a joint shower would’ve most definitely led to other things.), redo your makeup, fix your and Miguel’s hair, and leave to the stadium with moderate traffic. You look in the passenger seat mirror for the last touch-ups.
“Praying I don’t trip on that stage. If I do, it’s your fault.”
“I’ll happily take the blame.” He gives your thigh a small squeeze, in which you glare at him in return. The shit-eating grin on his face still made you smile, though.
You sit in your assigned seat among a sea of students, dawning the traditional cap and gown, with numerous achieved stoles and ropes around your neck, but only one stands out from them all, and one that you consider your best achievement: Gabriella’s Blue Ribbon.
You look down at it, giving it a little tug to straighten it out. You look up to search for Miguel in the enormous mass of seats, but it isn’t too hard. All you had to do was find the freakishly tall man with glasses, and when you do, you smile at him. As subtly as possible, he mouths ‘I love you’, and you do it back. You think to blow him a kiss, but given the situation, you also think it better not to in public. You still don’t have that degree in your hand, and you can’t risk anything, especially not when you’re so close. But trust, the second that piece of paper is in your hand, Miguel is all yours, no shame attached.
You’re on the edge of your seat the entirety of waiting for your name to be called, and once it is, you feel you could cry. You walk across the stage, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment filling you to the brim. Miguel watches on, a prideful expression on his face. You shake hands with a few faculty members, some you grew to love and will cherish, some you secretly wished would accidentally fall through a manhole, before you get to the dean, who currently holds your degree in their hand. You’re congratulated once it’s in your hand, the feeling of two very difficult years weighing down on your hand. It feels good. Smiling ear-to-ear, you look out into the audience as you walk across, degree facing outward for the whole stadium to see because one thing for sure is that everyone in the establishment will know that you did that. Your smile shines like a thousand stars, at least to Miguel. His heart could explode with how much love and awe he feels for you. Heaven knows he tried to make a new life for himself by putting the Spider-Man title to rest, and though he was successful, he was still missing a piece of himself. In this moment, he’s thanking you for taking a chance on him; for letting a different man, a happy man, come out for a while, and hopefully, for the rest of his life.
And that’s where he sits now, in the car, waiting for you in the parking lot. Prior to the ceremony, it was agreed that Miguel would slip away just a couple of minutes early (basically skip the dean’s farewell speech) so that you and Miguel could beat the crowds and go celebrate wherever he had planned for you. Hoards of crying mothers and cheering students catch his attention. It must’ve ended. It only takes a moment for him to pick you out from the crowd, immediately exiting the car to open the passenger door for you.
“Congratulations, mi vida.” He calls out, leaning against the car.
Elated, you crash into him, arms around his neck, legs lifted in the air, and you kiss him. You pull away with a joyous mwah.
You both retreat into the car. “You helped, my cute lil geneticist.” Giddiness beams from your voice. You reach over the center console to cup his chin and squeeze it, puckering his lips to kiss him again and again. This makes him chuckle. He may be older and bigger in every sense of the word, but at the end of the day, he is and always will be your dork. Your teddy bear.
“I just taught you a few formulas. This was all you, mama,” he starts the car but glances at you for a second. “What?” You tilt your head.
“I wanna thank you.”
“For what?” Every time Miguel opens his mouth, you’re reminded of what a lottery win you’ve made. You grab his hand to hold it up to your heart; the same spot where Gabriella’s ribbon is pinned.
“For loving me. The way you do.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me.”
His brows furrowed, his lips curled into a soft smile. He notices the blue ribbon. He caresses one of its tails, and a few of his heartstrings pull at the sight. He knows that if Gabriella were there, she would’ve been the loudest in the stands. “Wish she could’ve been here.”
You press his hand against your heart.
“She is.”
Miguel has told you so much about her that at this point, she feels like yours, and you feel that she’s there. You know with your whole heart that she is.
You both share one more tender kiss before Miguel pulls out of the lot.
“Well, it’s official. I am no longer your student. How do you feel about that?” you smirk, relaxed in your assigned seat; your rightful throne as passenger princess.
“Speaking of which, I hope you know that that degree is for decoration purposes from this day forward.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re quite the comedian today, huh?”
“You think I’m kidding? I want you home 24/7, you hear me? In the kitchen, an apron and all. I’m dead serious.” The sarcastic tone in his voice sends you chuckling through the nose.
“I’ll stay home and be your housewife if you give me a perfect score, how about that?”
“Deal.”
“Ok, no, but seriously, baby, please score my paper accurately.”
“Of course, beba. Just jokes. I’m kidding about the staying-home thing, too. You can do whatever you want,” He looks over at you at a red light, “Just as long as you always come back home to me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You two snuggle in Miguel’s bed after a nice dinner celebrating you. The sheets are warm and soft, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth and softness of Miguel’s body on yours; skin to skin. You’re both entangled and nude, having just had another (or a few) rounds of passionate love. Sleep looms over both you and Miguel, a little heavier on you. You’re quickly learning that Miguel does not have the endurance of an average man.
Knowing how much you loved his speaking voice, he decided to finish and read aloud to you Pride and Prejudice, a book you recommended to him and has become a new favorite of his. A king of aftercare. How more perfect can he be?
Miguel, seeing your eyes grow heavy, kisses your temple and smiles before starting again, “ ‘I love you. You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.’” He recites the notorious line written by Austen, but not for the sake of reading aloud anymore, no. This line was directed to you. And only for you.
“And I love you.” You whisper back.
And for the first time in much more than just 5 years, Miguel didn’t have to go to bed alone. And he won’t have to ever again.
Miguel hasn’t thought about the canon theory in a very, very long time, but a fleeting thought went through his mind before drifting away:
If going through everything that he had to, may it be the day his genetic makeup was altered, the spider-verse, Gabriella, trading in the suit for a life of solitude, everything; Despite the pain, if it all had to happen in order to have met you.
Then it’ll all have been worth it.
<3 Tags <3
@mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi
@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu
@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni @shaquilles-0atmeal @nina-from-317 @exoticb-utters @sugurusyndrome @aphinthestars
A/N: Fav chapter I've ever written. It was made with love <3 Really hoped you guys enjoyed it <3 n thnx sm for sticking around even if I made y'all wait so long 😭 love youuuuuuuu‌ MWAH!!!
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ladyhavilliard · 6 months ago
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mo dao zu shi tarot
wheel of fortune: good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point
the tower | jiang cheng
death | wei wuxian
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basketobread · 6 months ago
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my dumb fuck ass just spent 30 minutes trying to find Save Us White Girl and caved and "help white girl bg3" immediately returned it via google,,,,, had help white girl, white girl help stuck in my head,,,,,
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THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH TBH I CANNOT BELIEVE IT CAN IMMEDIATELY BE FOUND LIKE THAT???? everyday this comic finds its way back to me and i'm unsure if i'll ever be able to outdo it... it might be my magnum opus, i fear... (this is a good thing)
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itsmariejanel · 7 months ago
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happy three years, to this found family, and to us đŸŒ”
to those who've been with me, reading, commenting, thank you mwah 💗
special thank u to ai @gunthermunch for making the pose for me, from the art she also did
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illogicalvulcans · 3 months ago
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[Fic Book Covers 11+12/?] Integrative Approaches by Nnm / @mouseonamoose
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma
As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following: --His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses. What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?
Angel-Centered Therapy Through A Multicultural Lens
“I’d love to meet with you,” Davey said, apologetically, when he had been called up by a fellow looking to initiate therapy, “but I’m all booked up for months.” “Are you sure?” The fellow said, through a poor connection that crackled. Davey had been sure. And yet. Right there in his calendar was a blank spot, just a few days away, which he had somehow completely overlooked before. “How about that
I’ve got Wednesday at eleven, if you can make that work.” “What a miracle,” the fellow said, “that would be just the perfect time.”
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mblue-art · 15 days ago
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You made Killer such a cute little sad boy omg I am screaming. Please hug him or something, or trap him under a content little kitty idk but he needs it.
I love your art, it's so soft, sweet, warm, and cozy. Like marshmallows in warm hot cocoa <3
awe, ur sweet anon, thank u i appreciate this very much <333
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belated cuddles from a kibby and his crush!! for the birthday boy! (napping at the coziest corner at ccino's 😎)
<< 🎯
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boygirlctommy · 3 months ago
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i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"
#my post#this is just me rambling sorry i love that stream ive watched it sososossoooo many times from all 3 povs#AND AFTER TOMMY AND QUACKITY LEAVE....#wilbur replaces the button. i just need to know that its there.#and he goes on and on about how hes such a showman. how he shouldve just pressed it when he was alone.#but he just NEEDED someone to see him he needed someone to bear witness. guh#shaking. shaking. shaking. tommy put so much trust in him in that moment. he looked at him and said i know you want to hurt yourself but yo#wouldnt hurt me. and is he right to believe that? is he? maybe back in lmanberg maybe back during 'your life is worth more than the#revolution' but in pogtopia?? during 'wilbur wanted to be treated poorly so he treated others poorly'? it was a gamble for sure#and i mean as time went on tommy realized that. that as much as he cared about wilbur he couldnt trust him all the way.#but either way. in that moment i think tommy was sure that wilbur wouldnt press it if he realized that tommyd be killed as well.#that even though at this point people were saying wilbur was crazy. that hed lost it. that even if he didnt get it he knew something was#different about wilbur now. in that moment he bet everything on if there was anything of his brother left he wouldnt hurt him.#fucking. collapses onto the floor#disclaimer if anyone actually reads this far im not trying to slander pogbur in 2024 by calling him crazy thats just how like. every single#other character saw him.#anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk
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calmparticles · 11 months ago
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Happy new year 1997! đŸŽ‰đŸŸ
I'm meaning. 2023.9999999999999999999!!!!!!! đŸŽ‰đŸŸ
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