#they were holding onto each other for dear life on that roof

[ariascoven]

⟡ HOME EARLY

PAIRING : mentor!agatha harkness x apprentice!reader

WARNINGS : legal age gap. female reader. petnames (sweetheart, hon, bunny, dear & little one). reader calls agatha mistress. smut. fingering & oral (reader receiving). little bit of praising. mention of strap-on.

WORD COUNT : 2.6k

MY MASTERLIST

You were a young witch, way younger than your mentor, Agatha Harkness, who was 350 years old. You had recently joined her coven, staying in your lane as much as possible during meetings — rare were the times you would speak to any other witch in the room other than Agatha herself. Perhaps you were more than her apprentice; living under her roof, cooking for her and keeping everything in order. The truth is, you owed her your life. She saved you when you needed most, when you were hopeless. The least you could do was serve her, right? Throughout the days, the sound of your voice calling out the word ‘Mistress’ was heard multiple times, making sure Agatha had everything she needed, that she was satisfied. When your elder was away, the day would be terribly boring. You would pace around the house, dusting the same places over and over again, sometimes picking out a story from her collection to pass the time and soon getting bored of it, putting the book back where it belonged.

The day she announced she would be away for a week, your world crumbled. You tried to bargain, make her take you with her, claiming your help would be needed. But she denied, ending the conversation with clearly no intention of changing her mind. Seven days, and they couldn't pass any longer. Each day seemed like it lasted 24 hours longer than the last. The levels of boredom got so high that you decided to get out of your comfort zone, talking to the neighbors and going to the local stores, socializing; but nothing seemed to fill the empty space inside you. You wondered why you missed her so much — trying to convince yourself it wasn't because you were smitten by the older witch, deeply in love with her.

Five days after your Mistress had left, you woke up in the middle of the night with the urge to go to the bathroom. It's normal for you to sleep in your underwear, putting on your black robe whenever you have to leave the bedroom at night when Agatha was around, but since she wasn't home, you sleepily made your way to the bathroom in nothing but your red lingerie that barely covered any skin. After washing your hands, you exited the bathroom rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand, yelping and jumping in surprise when you saw someone standing in front of you, holding onto the door frame for dear life. Then you heard that sound, a sound so familiar to you and that makes your core throb.

Then you heard that sound, a sound so familiar to you and that makes your core throb — the sound of Agatha’s low chuckle as she stood in the middle of the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest. You sighed in relief, putting your hand over your racing heart in an attempt to calm yourself down. You watched as the witch turned on the light, her infamous side smirk dancing across her lips. “Did I scare you, hon?” You couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice, confused as to why she was back already, but definitely glad. With a sleepy yawn, you nodded your head. “You said you were going away for a week, Mistress. It's only been four days, did something happen?” You questioned, leaning against the doorframe. You felt your body shiver as the cold night air hit you, helping you finally remember what you had forgotten to do before going to bed — you forgot to close the damn window. Your cheeks flushed when you notice your mentor’s gaze on your body before meeting your eyes again, suddenly aware that you were half naked. “I thought the… situation I needed to handle would take more time, but I got it. Don't ask questions.”

The curiosity was eating you alive, but you knew better than to argue with your superior. You nodded, shifting uncomfortably and trying to shield yourself with your hands. Agatha’s smirk turned into a full grin as she uncrossed her own arms. Your breath hitched at her outfit; the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up to her elbows and the top two buttons are open, the fabric hugging her body perfectly. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mistress? You must be tired from… whatever you were doing.” You asked casually, licking your dry lips as you sauntered closer to Agatha, still too tired to notice the hunger reflecting from her eyes. She paused, biting her bottom lip as she glanced at your half naked figure once again. When her gaze met yours once more, a shiver ran down your spine and your heart started racing. She stepped closer, slowly, that devilish grin dancing on her lips. You stood there, unsure of what to do. She reached out to touch your cheek, your faces inches away. “That little outfit of yours suits you, my dear.” She said mischievously, her voice honeyed, blue eyes boring into yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at her words, stuttering pathetically before finally succeeding at letting your words out. “This is how I sleep, Mistress.” Agatha raised her eyebrows at your statement as if she couldn't believe what you just said, her hand formerly on your cheek now resting on your neck. “You sleep like… that?” She nodded her head at your body and you blushed, humming in agreement. “That’s… interesting.” She removed her hand from your skin and turned on her heels, walking towards the kitchen and peeking at you over her shoulder. “Perhaps I should pay you a nighttime visit.” You stared at her in shock until she was out of sight.

You heard the fridge opening and an approving hum followed by shuffling noises. You quickly made your way to your room and grabbed your robe, putting it on to cover yourself not only from the cold air, but from Agatha's gaze as well. You made your way to the kitchen, standing at the door and watching the brunette woman as she ate an apple. “Careful, that might be poisoned.” You joked, missing the playful banters. She chuckled, looking up at you. “Guess we'll have to wait and see.” You giggled, strolling towards the kitchen counter where Agatha is and leaning over it. “Mistress, could you please pass me the—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Agatha was already sliding the poptarts in your direction, eyes never leaving the newspaper resting on the counter. Your cheeks flushed slightly at how well your mentor knew you, shoving a poptart inside your mouth and eating quietly. “So… anything exciting happened while I was away, sweetheart?” You shook your head. “Did you do anything besides clean all day?” You shook your head again, causing the older woman to sigh dramatically. You looked down in embarrassment, fidgeting with your own fingers. “It's like you dedicate your entire life to me.” Her voice took on a husky tone as she spoke, her expression unreadable as she stared at you. You met her gaze, blushing at the realization she was correct. Your entire life was her. “Well, Mistress, it's the least I can do, you—”

“Saved your life, gave you a home, I know all that.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But there's something more, isn't there, bunny?” She purred, walking around the counter and stopping in front of you. “Something much deeper than gratitude. Isn't that right, hon?” She grinned wickedly, her finger slowly sliding down your cheek to your neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You were unable to speak, dizzy and weak. “Mistress…” you stuttered nervously as her fingers slowly wrapped around your neck; they didn't squeeze, just laying there comfortably, as if they simply belonged there. “Go on, little one, just admit it. Admit that you want me.” The silence between the two of you was loud. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you tried your best to say anything, make any noise, but nothing came out. Your knees went weak when she put a bit of pressure around your neck, making you grip the edge of the counter as your mind spun. Her grin widened as she relished the effect she had on you. “You can do it, dear. C'mon, just say it.” You hesitated, but the look in her eyes was too much for you — the need, the hunger, the pure lust. You took a deep breath before speaking up. “I want you more than anything, Mistress.”

“Hmmm… such a good girl. Always so obedient and eager to please me…” Agatha purred, wetting her lips as she stared at yours. She pushed you against the counter suddenly, pining you in place with her own body and making you gasp at the unexpected movement. Her hand was still around your neck as her free one slid down your body, exploring your curves with a hum of approval. “Pretty thing. I'm glad I got here earlier than expected. Aren't you?” You felt her breath against your lips, making your body tremble like a leaf. You let out a high pitched yelp when her hand cupped your pussy out of nowhere, feeling your dampness. “Soaked, already?” She taunted with a mocking pout, her fingers teasing your folds through the thin fabric of your panties and eliciting a needy whimper from you. “What is it that you want, bunny? Tell Mistress, hm?” Her voice was a sultry sound against your ear as her tongue flicked out to nibble on your earlobe. The touch made your knees buckle and she chuckled, hands gripping your hips to steady you as she pulled back to look into your eyes. “Say it.”

“Y-You, Mistress! I want you!” You managed to stutter out. The sight of your wide puppy eyes just pleading for her to take you was too much for the older witch. Agatha kissed you with a hunger that made you dizzy, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise and hands reaching up to grip her collar. You moaned into her mouth, pouring all the pent-up lust into the kiss you’ve been dreaming of for months now. Her hand found its way between your legs once more, palm rubbing your clothed clit lazily. You whined and bit down on her lower lip. She pulled back, eyes darkened. “Oh, you don't know what you're getting into, do you?” You could only look at her, hips bucking against her hand desperately. Agatha tsked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Poor thing, can't even speak properly and I barely even touched you.” She was torturing you, her hand previously on your cunt moved to squeeze and caress your thigh.

“Mistress, please…” you mewled, head tilting to the side pathetically, looking at her through half lidded eyes. Her hand inched closer to where you needed her the most and she raised an eyebrow, urging you on. “Please touch me there, I'm dripping…” She hummed in approval, cupping your pussy once more. You rolled your hips, a sinful moan falling from your lips as you threw your head back. Agatha took the opportunity to kiss your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as her hand kept rubbing you. The feeling of your drenched panties glued to your skin made you feel both gross and aroused, and you could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs. Apparently, the older woman could too, grinning against your neck before licking a thick stripe up to your earlobe and nibbling on it. Another needy whimper came out of you at her actions, and another one when she pulled back to stare at you with that wicked gleam in her eyes.

Finally, she slid your panties down your legs, shaking her head. “Would you look at that?” She held the ruined underwear up for you to see, making you blush at how soaked the fabric was. “These are no use anymore, sweetheart.” She threw it somewhere on the ground carelessly, then gripped your hips as she lookes up at you from between your legs, kneeling on the floor. “I’ll make sure to repair the damage by getting you new ones, hm?” She said in a condescending tome, and you couldn't tell if she's being serious or not. But it didn't matter, not when she slowly licked her way up your slit. You whined, legs trembling as you held onto the counter behind you, knuckles turning white. She looked mesmerizing, you think, that smirk of hers playing on her lips even as she kissed your folds, her touch so tender you could barely feel it. You bucked your hips in a silent request, expecting her to reprimand you, but instead, she attached her lips to your swollen clit, sucking on it.

You arched your back instinctively, eyes snapping shut once more in pure delight. You couldn't control the moans slipping from your lips at every flick of your mentor’s wet and warm tongue against your throbbing clit, her strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. You could feel her eyes on you, her gaze never faltering; it made your pussy clench around nothing and your heart race, feeling vulnerable under her inspecting gaze. Your breathing grew quicker when you felt her tongue circling your entrance before plunging inside you, eliciting a guttural sound from you that you didn't even know you could make. Your hips bucked against her face, meeting the movements of her tongue inside you. Without thinking, you grabbed her hair to steady yourself, causing the woman to groan against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You finally found the courage to open your eyes, finding Agatha staring up at you with blown wide pupils. You tugged at her dark curls once more, yelping when she bit down onto your clit in response. You whimpered when she removed her tongue, but she quickly replaced it with two of her slender fingers. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, body tensing. “Shhh, little one, you gotta let me in.” She cooed gently, urging you to relax.

Your body slowly but surely eased into the touch and you resumed your chant of moans, her long fingers sliding in and out of your dripping cunt in a steady rhythm. “Fuck…” you breathed out, eyes rolling back as she curled her digits to hit that sweet spot inside you that made you see stars. She let out a low moan of her own as she felt you clenching around her. “Shit, sweetheart… if having you around my fingers feels this good, imagine when it's my strap.” Your eyes widened at both her words and the third digit that slipped inside your entrance without warning. “Yes, hon, soon you'll have my strap buried deep inside that pretty little cunt of yours.” Her voice was honeyed as she spoke, her piercing gaze making you feel small. “Would you like that?” All you could do is nod and moan desperately as you exploded, your orgasm crashing over you. You tugged on Agatha’s hair, fingernails scratching her scalp as you pulled her closer. Her name left your lips like a prayer, her tongue meeting your pussy again while she lapped up every drop of your cum, humming approvingly at the taste. It's only when your body stopped convulsing that she let go, retrieving her fingers and licking them clean.

She stood up, arms wrapping around your trembling body as she planted a kiss on your forehead. She chuckled at your fucked out expression, brushing your hair out of your face. “Maybe we should save the strap for tomorrow, you can barely keep your eyes open.” She observed, her smirk turning into an affectionate smile. You nodded weakly, eyes heavy with sleep. Your head fell forward, resting on her shoulder. “Shhh, you did so well for me, little one.”

[mauvecherie-writes]

FREAKTOBER 05 | jacob scipio.

RATING: 18+ NSFW extreme mature content.

🎀 FREAKTOBER MASTERLIST 🎀

You loved the quiet days you spent with Jacob.

Lazy days doing nothing but indulging each other’s company to your fullest extent with no distractions.

Like now, you were laid on his chest in between his legs on the bed of rumpled sheets. Your knees are bent with your ankles anchored down by his firm thighs which were pushed apart to keep you open - exposed, just for him.

The music was softly playing in the background, the scent of your burning candles wafting through the air, tickling your senses as Jacob’s fingers lightly ran up and down your stomach. Your hands held onto his thighs as your breathing increased as the anticipation of more took hold.

“Please, Jacob.” You whined as you rubbed your ass on his hardening dick that was pressing into you. Jacob chuckled as he cupped beneath your breasts and then pinched and pulled at your nipples.

“Please what, baby?” He murmured into your ear before he licked on your earlobe. You did not answer him with words but you took his left hand and brought it to your mouth, sucking on his pointer and middle fingers.

“Hmmm.” A soft hum left him as he used the other fingers that weren’t in your mouth to pinch your cheeks as he pushed them deeper down your throat. Jacob pulled his fingers out and then brought them to the place he knew you needed his fingers to be.

His thick and calloused fingers, wet from your spit - began to lazily stroke on your clit. That earned him soft mewls from your lips as your head fell back onto his shoulder. Jacob slipped his fingers further down until they were playing with the wetness coating your opening.

“You always get so wet for me, fucking hell.” He groaned as he pushed his digits into your cunt, pumping them at a slow pace as they stretched out your tight walls. As your legs tried to close, Jacob brought his other hand to your pussy and rubbed on your clit.

“You better keep your legs open, babygirl. I want you creaming all over my fingers.”

.・。.・

You were moaning, screaming as his fingers worked their magic.

You gripped on his forearm for dear life as you squirmed in between his legs. You rolled your hips instinctively, to the rhythm and pace that Jacob had set.

It was beautiful, the way that he would make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just the strokes of his fingers, almost like a puppet master pulling at your strings. Such words weren’t really used by you in the bedroom but you'd let him control and mould you just the way he wanted.

“Oh god!” You cried as you felt Jacob’s fingertips press onto the roof of your cunt, curling the digits as he pumped them. His head was nuzzled into the side of your cheek - the fuzz of his growing beard rubbing against your skin.

“Just me, babygirl.” Jacob mumbled into your ear, his voice a deep purr. “You feeling good baby?”

The tone of his voice travelled through you, soothing you down like honey. “Yesssss.” You hissed as your walls clenched around his fingers.

“Doing so well for me.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Think you can take some more?” He proposed as he slipped in a third finger.

Your walls clenched around the sudden new presence and you moaned, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give. Months into your relationship and each time with him, it was a new experience.

"That's it," Jacob cooed in your ear as he picked up the pace. “Such a good girl for me. So fucking perfect.” Jacob loved how easily he could slip his fingers inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, your cunt aching and throbbing for him. It only made him want to fuck you more. His dick was swelling beneath you, making him desperate to sink his length inside and make you take it all.

The slick sounds of your wetness filled the room as you took his fingers in so wonderfully. Jacob turned his face back into your neck and sucked on the skin of your shoulder.

Your cheeks were flooded with warmth as you looked down at the way his fingers were making light work of you. your chest heaved up and down, your nipples hard and sensitive to the cold air in the room. With the pace increasing and the way Jacob was so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you felt a sensation with the pit of your stomach start to build.

It wasn’t like any other, uncomfortable but welcomed. It wasn’t like the other orgasms Jacob had pulled out of you. No, this one pooled in your belly but tickled the base of your spine that you tried to arch away to ease the tension.

“No, no, no.” Jacob tutted as he locked down your lower limbs with his and held you against his chest with arm across your torso. “Feel it all baby. Don’t run away from it.”

He slammed his fingers, curling them just enough in the way you liked. The flat of his palm pressed on your clit, the pressure increasing with how fast his fingers were moving. The differing in sensations made you so dizzy, your mind and body hazy from the pleasure.

Your walls clenched around his thick fingers, desperately clinking to the feeling of them stretching you, bringing you pleasure that had you squirming in his hold and screaming his name as that feeling within built up more and more.

It’s like your body was trying to fight against the feeling that was now swinging forward in full force. It felt like you needed to pee but with the way Jacob was touching you, fucking you so deliciously with his fingers, his words sung into your ears. You were about to snap.

“Jacob!” You gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Ohhh FUUUUUU-.”

“Let it out baby. Let it out right now!” Jacob groaned encouraging you as he placed soothing kisses on your neck.

Your body ceased as your release came. You squirted, coating his hand all the way down to his wrist. Your wetness soaked the sheets beneath you, earning a moan from the both of you.

“There you go, just like that.” Jacob cooed as he slowed his fingers until they came to a stop. You shivered in his hold as he tried to calm you down. “You did so good for me angel, so good.”

When the pounding of your heart stopped ringing in your ears, you turned your head and captured his lips with a deep hunger. Jacob groaned into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth. Not caring that his hand was wet from your essence, he brought both palms to your chest and massaged your breasts.

The pinching of your nipples had you mewling into the kiss. “Looked so fucking sexy.” Jacob mumbled as he trailed his kisses down the length of your jawline. “I need to see it again. Think you can do it again for me, sweetheart? I need to feel it again. Need to see you squirt like on my dick.”

“Babbbyy.” You whined as Jacob moved from behind you and laid you down. As he positioned himself in between your legs again, he pulled a discarded shirt from the floor and put it beneath your ass.

“Hold your legs open for me.” He whispered as he hovered above you. You got into the position you knew that Jacob loved so much. Legs spread wide with your ankles near his head. Your cunt, glistening and gaping open, waiting for him. So submissive to him without even trying and to think, when he first approached you, you had given him such a hard time. He smirked at the memory of that.

“So beautiful and all mine.” He whispered as he brushed his hard dick against your sensitive core.

“Take me,” You whimpered. “Please.” His eyes slightly widened at the neediness that laced your voice. He licked his lips as the corner of his mouth quirked up. You lifted your head and reached for a kiss and as his lips met yours - he slipped into you until he was nestled in deep.

A whimper left you as the new sensation of his dick stretching your overstimulated pussy. Because of how intense your first orgasm had been the feeling was surprising but you welcomed it. you had no idea that it would feel this different if felt so fucking good.

Jacob had a way of coaxing everything out of you, playing you like an instrument he's mastered. You were made for him and only him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he glided so easily in and out of your cunt.

He was so deep and he was filling you up so much that you couldn’t think about anything else but him. The pressure was building up within you and it was knotting you so tight that you knew that this climax would wreck you.

“I can’t. I, I ccaa -.” You stuttered as you struggled for air.

"You can, I know you can." Jacob encouraged you as he bent down and nibbled on your ear. "You're my good girl. You'll make another mess for me, won't you? I wanna feel you all all over my dick.” He pecked your lips. “Please, baby.” He whispered his plead.

Oh fuck, his words. They always got to you and made you lose all of your senses. Your legs ended on his shoulder as your hands came to his neck so that you could suck on his bottom lip before capturing them in a passionate and open mouthed kiss.

You drank in his moans, he drank in yours - so set on making you gush around him. “I fucking love this pussy.” He groaned as he pressed down onto you, adding pressure against your chest as he pounded into you harder and harder.

Soon, your eyes were rolling back again, your mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you felt that sensation build once more. your body tensed, your thighs clenching around his head with your back arching and your eyes squeezing shut.

Jacob knew that he had you right where he wanted you, right where he knew you want to be.

“Fucking cum for me right now!” He growled as he pressed his forehead onto yours, his lips rolling faster. His dick hitting your g-spot with each calculated thrust - sending electric shocks through your body.

Your nails dug into your back as the bed rocked. Jacob’s hand let go of the headboard and weaved his fingers through your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck. When his lips sucked on your pulse point, you were thrown overboard.

Lost in the waves of your pleasure, starts blinded your vision. Your only anchor to reality was Jacob’s arms holding onto you as he fucked you through your orgasm that was spraying his thighs.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” You cried out he steadily pumped into you roughly, so desperate to get every last drop as he felt you clamp down around his dick. You gripped onto his back for dear life as you rode out your orgasm.

The fluttering of your walls around his length had his body tensing as he erupted. You kept him trapped inside as the warmth of his seed spread inside of you. He rolled his hips until he had fully emptied himself.

When your legs stopped shaking, they dropped to his side. Your lips mushed against each other in a slow and satisfying kiss.

“We weren’t supposed to go all the way.” You mumbled against his lips which caused him to chuckle, his laughter lightly vibrating through you.

“Once you squirted, there was no way I wasn’t going to fuck you.” He answered. You rolled your eyes as a small smile played on your lips.

“You always find a way to get into my pussy.”

“Pussy’s too good. I need it all the time.” Jacob mumbled, pecking your lips …

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @hopefulromantic1 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @saintslewis @cocobutterqwueen @blowmymbackout @mochachocolatteyaya @greedyjudge2 @melaninpov @pickingupmymercedes @lewisroscoelove @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @kriegertops @ermlolol @theogbadbitch @trinitoldyouso @ethereal555 @astrorainbow @jazziejax @laylaynaynay130 @khalaaylah @plan666 @crissrou @cookiecutterzers56 @cameroncrazie13 @shescatrinaxo @efefrf @wvvkndvibez @st4rgirliesstuff @gwenda-fav @fineanddandy @planetblaque @deja-r @kiraonthegooo @apimp-named-slickback @playgurlxoxo @gojosbabyma @heytaewrites @leilaxaliel @dyttomori @tasteofmyrainboe @livvy-lovess @violetmuses @jeanellepatrice @kaisage45 @planetnique

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "I don't care that you're hanging up lights, get off the roof!"

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Gn!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff, Slight hurt/comfort

TW: Reader falls off a roof (but they're okay, don't worry)

You were a brave human.

Malleus had made this assumption on your second meeting, when you graced him with that silly nickname that he now held so dear. The casual way you interacted with him may have stemmed from your ignorance regarding his true identity, but to see you continue to use it even after learning he was the heir apparent to Briar Valley had left him with a pleasant warmth in his chest and his cheeks.

He adored every part of you, including that bravery of yours that made him fall for you in the first place.

But dear Sevens, that bravery would be the death of him one day.

"Child of man," he called out to you, a mix of puzzlement and concern in his eyes, "what are you doing up on the roof?"

"Hornton!" You visibly brightened as you noticed him, waving your arm so vigorously at him that he feared you would fall from your place on top of Ramshackle's roof. Malleus took a step ahead, worry flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you.

"I'm hanging up some lights for the winter holidays! Ramshackle's gonna look nice and festive this winter," you spoke, showing him the bundle of wires with lights on them that you had next to you.

"Is it truly necessary?" He asked, acutely aware of the pain in his neck from looking up at you. Was this how you felt when you had to look up at him? Now, that would not do; he would have to find a way to make it so that you wouldn't feel any pain in your neck while looking up-

His train of thought was derailed by the sight of you leaning forward almost dangerously. "I'm gonna be fine, don't worry," you told him, a carefree smile on your face.

"Child of man, Ramshackle has no need to be decorated. It is beautiful just the way it is," and so are you, went unsaid. Malleus took a step closer, talking softly and gently, trying to coax you to come down. "Please, come down before you hurt yourself."

"You worry too much Mal-Mal, I'll be fiNE-"

In your attempt to reassure him, you had taken a step ahead on the roof, slipping and getting your leg tangled in the wire.

Malleus' heart nearly stopped as he saw you fall. He casted a spell almost immediately, catching you mid-air with his magic before letting you down onto the ground carefully.

Your legs gave out beneath you from almost falling to your death, and you sat heavily on the ground. Malleus rushed to you, quickly kneeling to check you for any injuries, even though he had saved you with his magic. You rested your hands on his biceps, trembling slightly due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you allowed him to look you over.

After making sure you were alright, he pulled you into a hug, his larger frame hiding you from view as he held you close to his chest. You held onto him just as tightly, and for the next few minutes you both just sat in silence, holding onto each other and thinking of what could have happened had he not been there.

"Now I understand what Lilia meant when he used to say that Silver and I would shave years off his lifespan whenever we went off into the forest without letting him know," he said after a few tense moments, voice slightly shaky. Your hands held on tighter at his words, feeling guilty. One of his hands curled protectively over your head, while the other rested on your back.

"I-" your throat felt dry, tight. You couldn't get your words out, even as Malleus waited for you to finish your reply. So you settled on squeezing him tight, trying to make him feel your apology for scaring him when you couldn't put it in words.

"Next time, please allow me to do this sort of thing for you, my dear. Even with how long my life is sure to be, I would rather not deal with such stress ever again," he told you gently, smiling when you nodded, your face hidden against him.

He picked you up, and took you inside Ramshackle, your plans of decorating the roof left for another day.

Back to Masterlist...

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Loving Husband pt 4

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 I'm not spoiling it for you

Here it is!!!!!

Part 3 Part 5

As they walked into the doctor’s office, John put an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. He could sense your nervousness, but he was just as excited as you were. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to murmur in your ear. “No matter what it is, they'll be perfect.” You sat side-by-side on the examination bed, holding hands tightly as you both waited for the ultrasound technician to come in. The room was quiet except for the soft humming of medical equipment in the background.

“Ready?” The technician asked, breaking the silence as you laid on the bed and pulled your shirt up. John squeezed your hand reassuringly, giving you a supportive smile. He knew this was a big moment for them, and he wanted to be there for you every step of the way. She squirted some gel onto your stomach first which made you hissed slightly at the cold jelly. It made John chuckle.

"Don't laugh!" You pouted. "It's cold."

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling softly. “But it’s kind of funny.”

She then squirted some gel onto a handheld device and began moving it slowly over your stomach, watching the monitor intently. John leaned closer to the screen, trying to get a better view of what the technician was seeing. His heart pounded in his chest. There was a moment of silence before the technician mumbled a simple "Oh." You looked at the doctor and panicked, "What is it? Is everything okay?" She looked at you and chuckled, "Everything is fine. They're fine"

They?

Yours and Johns head shot up at the words. "They?" You questioned "As in plural?" Your hand tightened around Johns hand, your heart felt like it jumped into your throat as you waited for the doctor to confirm. John's heart skipped a beat at your question, his mind racing with possibilities. Twins? Identical twins? His gaze flickered between the ultrasound screen and the technician, waiting for her to say something - anything. "Yes" The technician smiled before look at you and John. 

"You're having triplets"

John blinked, staring at the ultrasound screen in disbelief. Triplets? 

He glanced over at you, finding you equally stunned expression mirrored in his own. Their jaws hung open, their hearts pounding wildly in their chests.

"Triplets..." He echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at the technician with wide eyes "Triplets?" You gasped, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, "Are you serious? Three babies?" You started to cry happy tears. "Three babies" You cried while holding onto John for dear life. 4 months of failed pregnancy tests and now your here, at your 20 week scan being told you're having triplets. John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you burst into tears of joy. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with excitement himself. "Triplets," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "That's incredible."

He watched the technician move the ultrasound wand over your slightly swollen belly, fascinated by the sight of their unborn children squirming around inside you. It was a surreal moment, one that he would never forget.

"Look," he whispered, pointing at the screen. "There's one."

You wiped your tears away, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't believe it" you said quietly, looking at the screen as you pointed at the second baby. "There's number two"

John grinned, squeezing her hand again. "And look at that...there's number three!"

He laughed, feeling light-hearted and carefree despite the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. They were going to have three children - a whole team of little ones under their roof. The rest of the appointment passed in a blur of information and advice from the technician, but neither of you really absorbed much of it. You both were too caught up in the amazing news that had just rocked their world. On the drive home, you kept stealing glances at each other, grinning widely and shaking their heads in amazement.

"Can you believe it?" John asked, reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. "We're having triplets!"

"Oh god I've got tell my mom," You laughed as you got your phone out to call your mother. She's probably going to have a heart attack. Hearing that she's going to be a grandmother too 3 babies instead of 1. John chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talking animatedly on the phone. He could imagine how your mother must be reacting to the news - probably a mixture of surprise and delight. "It sounds like she's taking it well," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "She'll love being a grandma times three."

He sighed contentedly, thinking about how their lives were about to change forever. It was daunting, yes - but also incredibly exciting. "And to think," he added with a playful grin, "we used to worry about getting our laundry done." You squeezed his hand back and laughed, "We're defiantly going to need a bigger house." John chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah defiantly"

"It's crazy how things change in an instant," he murmured thoughtfully, "One minute we're dealing with failed pregnancy tests and worrying about whether or not we'd ever conceive...and now..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced over at you. You were radiant, your eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. "And now we're expecting triplets."

"I feel like this is mother nature's way of apologising" You smiled, feeling the tears falling down your cheek again as John pulled up to your shared house. John nodded, understanding what you meant. It was a bit like fate stepping in and setting things right after all those failed attempts. "Yeah," he agreed, reaching over to gently wipe away your tears. "A beautiful apology indeed." He parked the car and turned to face you, pulling you into a tender kiss. As their lips met, he could taste the saltiness of your tears - a bittersweet reminder of their past struggles but also a hopeful promise for their future.

"Well," he murmured against her lips, "We better tell the lads"

"Ooo let's invite them over for dinner" You suggested as you got out of the car. John grinned, liking the idea. "Dinner sounds good. We could even make it a barbecue." He helped you out of the car (forever a gentleman), wrapping an arm around your waist as they walked towards the house.

1 week later

"I'll get it" You shouted to John, who was in the backyard getting the barbecue set up, when you heard the doorbell. John chuckled, continuing to prepare the grill as he heard you answer the door. He could only imagine the flurry of activity that would ensue once they broke the news to their friends. "Just give me a few minutes," he called back, his voice filled with amusement. "I'm almost ready!"

You opened the door to see Gaz, Ghost and Soap standing there with big smiles on their faces. You hugged them all and invited them in. "Come on guys. John's just in the back setting up the barbecue." As soon as the door opened, Ghost's nose picked up the distinct smell of meat grilling on charcoal. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Barbecue?" he asked, grinning widely. "Now you're talking!"

They followed you into the house and made their way towards the backyard where John was already busy flipping burgers and hotdogs. "So how's the mother to be?" Gaz asked you with a big, shit eating grin on his face. "She's fucking tired and she's only 3 months pregnant" You answered Gaz with a chuckle as you passed everyone a beer. Everyone laughed at Gaz's question and your response, raising their beers in salute as they took a seat around the patio table.

"Sounds about right," Gaz chuckled, "But you're doing great, love." Soap and Ghost nodded in agreement, their expressions softening with genuine concern and admiration. "And don't worry," Soap added, "We'll be here to help however we can."

"Good" You smiled as you walked up to John and put an arm around his waist. "Because you 3" You pointed to the three men. "Are going to be uncles to triplets." The air suddenly became thick with shock and disbelief as everyone's gazes shot between you and John. Even the sizzle of the grill seemed to fade away for a moment.

"As in 3 babies?" Soap choke out, his eyes wide with disbelief. Gaz and Ghost looked at each other in disbelief.

"Yes as in 3 babies" You giggled as you held onto John tighter.

There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone burst into cheers and congratulations. Soap even did a little happy dance. "Triplets!" Gaz exclaimed, slapping John on the back. "That's fantastic!" Ghost, always the more reserved one, simply shook his head in awe. "Unbelievable...Do you know the gender?"

"Nope not until they arrive" you giggled as you felt the tears coming back to your eyes. "Oh god I'm getting emotional again" you laughed as you fanned your face, trying not to ruin your mascara. John wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Don't worry love," he murmured softly. He gave you a gentle squeeze before turning back towards the team. "Alright guys! Who's hungry?"

With that, he went back to flipping the burgers and hotdogs on the grill while everyone else settled down at the table waiting for dinner to be served. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and laughed, "I am starving." John chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as he headed inside to grab some plates and cutlery. "Good," he said over his shoulder, "because I've got plenty of food."

Soon enough, they were all gathered around the table, digging into the delicious feast that John had prepared. The conversation flowed easily among friends, laughter filling the air as they celebrated this wonderful news. "I gotta ask" Soap asked as he wiped his mouth, "Did ya conceive in my bathroom?" You blushed deeply and buried your face in your hands, "Oh God, Johnny..." You groaned, peeking through your fingers. "You're not letting that go are you?" You laughed as you hid your face in Johns arm. 

John couldn't help but laugh at Soap's question, shaking his head slightly as he tried to suppress his amusement. "Oh come on," he teased, "It's not like we planned it or anything." He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before turning back to Soap. "But yes," he added with a chuckle, "we did." You looked at Soap with a serious expression "I swear to god, Johnny, If you ever tell our children they were conceived in your bathroom. You'll know about it!" You tried to be serious but you ended up laughing.

Soap raised his hands in surrender, holding up both palms towards you. "Hey now," he said innocently, "I wouldn't dream of it." Despite his words, a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he playfully jabbed at Ghost with his elbow. "But if he tells them," Soap continued with a smirk, "then I'm off the hook." You pointed at John, Gaz, Soap and Ghost, "None of you will tell them." John chuckled at your stern warning, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not," he agreed with a teasing wink. "Our secret."

His gaze softened as he glanced over at you, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. "But remember," he added with a sly smile, "they might figure it out eventually." You raised your eyebrows at John, "They are never. Ever finding out." John chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "They might not find out from us," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "but mothers have been known to slip up..." His voice trailed off suggestively.

You pretended to be offended. "Johnathan Price you take that back" you crossed your arms with a giggle. John raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning widely as he leaned back in his chair. "Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle, "I'll behave."

However, the mischievous twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise.

A few hours later, after dinner was finished and the dishes washed, everyone started to say their goodbyes. They hugged and shook hands before heading home. "Thank you for coming," John said sincerely as he waved goodbye from the doorstep. After seeing their friends off, John turned to find you in the kitchen. He moved silently behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I'm glad they could make it," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm even more glad it's just us now." His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach as he pulled you closer against him. You leaned into Johns touch with a sigh of content as you rested one hand on John's and another on your bump.

You were only 3 moths pregnant but you were already showing. By a lot. You should of knows you were having triplets really but it never crossed yours or Johns mind, you were just happy to finally be pregnant.

Feeling your hand over his own, John's heart swelled with love and excitement. His fingers traced gentle circles against your belly as he pressed a series of soft kisses along your jawline. "You're amazing," he whispered huskily, "and so beautiful." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the sensitive peaks. As he kissed down your neck, he could feel your pulse beating rapidly beneath his lips.

"Let's go upstairs," he murmured between kisses. "But John." You moaned as you moved your head to the side, "I gotta finish cleaning the kitchen." John chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke. "There's always tomorrow," he whispered huskily, His hands slid down from your breasts, tracing lower until they found the hem of your dress. With a gentle tug, he pulled it up and over your head, revealing the lacy bra you wore underneath.

"We can clean up in the morning," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss. You kissed John back with equal passion as you slipped your hands under his shirt pulling it up slowly as you reached his bare chest. Caught up in the moment, John allowed you to pull his shirt off. His hands moved to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

"God, you're stunning," he breathed, his gaze roaming over your body appreciatively.

Without wasting another second, he picked you up and carried you up the stairs to their bedroom. Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed before quickly stripping off his pants and boxer shorts. "C'mere," he murmured, crawling onto the bed and hovered over you. "John" You giggled as he crawled up the bed to hover over you. "You're too good to me sometimes" you whispered as your ran your fingers through his hair while staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

John chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with love and desire as he gazed down at you. "Just trying to keep up with my favourite girl," he teased, pressing a series of light kisses along your collarbone. He shifted slightly, trailing his fingers down your body until they found the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he peeled them off and tossed them aside. "Now," he murmured huskily, "where were we?" You shivered as John trail kisses down your body and removed your panties. "Oh I think you were about to show your pregnant wife how much you love her"

At your words, John's heart swelled with affection. He loved this feisty, strong-willed woman more than anything, and being able to share this journey with you was a blessing beyond measure. "That I was," he replied with a tender smile, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. With a low growl of anticipation, he lowered himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs before moving higher. His tongue darted out, tasting you intimately as he listened to the sweet sounds you made.

John loved every part of you - your strength, your spirit... and most especially your body. He savoured each moment, taking his time as he worshipped you with his mouth. You arched your back as John licked and kissed your inner thighs as he moved closer to your cunt, "John" you whined as you felt his hot breath on your clit. Hearing you whine, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of satisfaction. It was music to his ears, the sound of your pleasure.

His tongue flickered out again, teasing your swollen clit before diving deeper to lap at your entrance. The taste of you was intoxicating, making him groan in approval. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you open for him as he devoured you with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. He wanted to make sure you came undone under his ministrations, to hear those precious sounds of yours echoing throughout the room. John continued to lick and suck at your dripping cunt, driving you wild with pleasure. His hands held your thighs steady as he explored every inch of you with his tongue.

He could feel your body tensing up, signalling that you were close to climax. Not wanting to push you over the edge quite yet, he slowed down, focusing instead on teasing your clit with his fingers.

'Take it easy, love,' he thought to himself, 'we've got all night.'

"That's not fair," you whined as you grabbed his hair and tried to pull his face closer to your cunt. John chuckled softly at your whines, the vibrations sending delightful shocks through your sensitive flesh. He could feel you gripping his hair, trying to guide him back to where you wanted him, but he resisted. "Patience, love," he murmured against your wetness. "We have all night." With a final teasing lick, he pulled away slightly, giving you a wicked grin as he did so.

You let out a pathetic whine in frustration as John pulled his face away from your pussy. You swatted his hands away from you and sat up on the bed, "That's just mean!" You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. John watched as you sat up, your expression one of pure frustration. He had to admit, it was rather adorable. "I aim to please, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you.

"But if you insist..." With a swift move, he pulled you onto his lap, your back to his front. His cock, already hard and ready, nestled against your ass. "Better?" he asked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You started grinding your hips on his thighs, desperate for some sort of friction. "No." Feeling you squirm in his lap, John knew exactly what you needed. His hand slid down your stomach, tracing over your belly where their babies were growing before dipping lower.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers found your slick entrance. "What's this? Seems like someone's asking for something." With a gentle thrust, two fingers sank into your tight heat. His thumb circled your swollen clit, adding to the pleasure coursing through you. "Is this better, love?" he whispered against your ear, his teeth nibbling playfully on your lobe. You bit your lip as you nodded your head. Your hands gripped John's thighs as you pressed your back further into him and started rocking your hips back onto his fingers.

John groaned at the feeling of your hips rolling back onto his fingers. Your tight warmth enveloped him, drawing a low growl from deep within his chest. "God I fucking love you" he murmured, his other hand sliding around to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. "Fuck, you're going to make me blow my load without even getting inside you," he confessed, his breathing ragged. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. Your hands tightened on his thighs as you felt John's fingers slide in and out of your cunt. "John" you whimpered his name like a prayer.

John's heart pounded in his chest at the sound of your plea. He loved hearing you beg for him, loved knowing that he was the one who could make you lose control. "Right there, sweetheart?" he groaned, his fingers pumping faster into your tight heat. "Jesus Christ..." He could feel you clenching around him, signalling your impending orgasm. Without missing a beat, he added a third finger, stretching you even further.

You cried out as you came hard on John's fingers. Your cunt clenched tightly around them as your body shook from the force of your orgasm. You leaned heavily against John's chest, panting for air as you recovered from your intense orgasm. John groaned as your walls clamped down on his fingers, milking him for everything he was worth. The way you trembled and gasped in his arms was enough to drive any man insane. "Fuck...fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful when you cum," he grunted out, his own need throbbing painfully between his legs. But despite how much he wanted release, he refused to take it without giving you another orgasm first.

"Come on, love. Let's get you off again," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he resumed fingering you. This time, however, he focused solely on your clit, determined to send your spiralling into another orgasm. You whimpered as he continued to rub your clit. Your cunt was still spasming from your previous orgasm but you didn't care. You wanted more, you always wanted more with John. "Please" You begged, pressing your hips back onto his hand. John's heart thudded in his chest at the sound of your plea. You were so fucking needy at times, so desperate for him - and he loved it.

"God, you're such a dirty little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to tease you. "I fucking love it."

His free hand reached around to caress your breast again, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers while his other hand kept working magic on your clit. You surrender to the ecstasy surging through you, a knot within uncoiling with trembling release. Your body convulses in pleasure as you cry out, each syllable a symphony of surrender. John's gaze is fixed upon you, his eyes wide with amazement as he witnesses the torrent of your climax. The liquid gold stains his thighs and the sheets beneath you, a testament to your abandon. 

To John, watching you squirt was like watching a fucking masterpiece unfold right before his eyes. The way your body tensed up, the way your juices gushed out, it was all so fucking sexy.

But instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he curled them upwards, rubbing against that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. He wanted to keep going, to push you over the edge once more. And judging by the way you were twitching and gasping under his touch, he wasn't far off. "N-no more baby" you panted as you tried to push Johns hand away. Your body was twitching, you were overstimulated, "Please" you whispered softly. John chuckled softly at your pleas for him to stop, his fingers never slowing their pace. He loved seeing you so worked up, so close to the edge.

"No can do, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Not until you've given me another orgasm." With that, he lowered his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin there while his fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt. You let out a whine as you felt John nip at your neck. You were so close to the edge but he just wouldn't stop (Not that you wanted him too). You felt your body start to shake as you came yet again, squirting all over his hand. It took every ounce of self-control not to scream his name as you came.

John groaned as your cunt squeezed his fingers once more, your body convulsing as you came on his hand. He could feel your warm juices coating his fingers and dripping down his wrist, and it only served to turn him on more. "Fucking hell..." he muttered, withdrawing his soaked fingers from your trembling cunny. With a swift movement, he brought them to his lips and sucked each finger clean, savouring the taste of you. You were whimpering, your body still twitching from the intensity of your orgasm. You turned your head to look at him, biting your lower lip as you watched him suck on his fingers. You wanted him, needed him inside you now.

"Please" you begged, reaching around to grab his cock. You stroked him slowly, loving the way he groaned in response. John's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your touch feather-light and teasing. His mind went blank, consumed by the need to be inside you. "Christ, love," he groaned, his grip tightening on the sheets beneath them. "I need to be inside you. Now."

You quickly got off his lap and turned to face him on the bed. You hand grabbed Johns hair at the nape of his neck as brought him in for a very hungry kiss. You were both naked, sweaty, John made you cum 3 times, squirt 2 times and yet you wanted more. You needed John inside you. John returned your kiss with an equal amount of hunger, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roamed your body. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you squirmed and moaned against his touch.

"Jesus Christ, you're insatiable," he murmured against your lips, breaking their kiss. "But I'm not complaining." You giggled at Johns comment about you being insatiable. You ran your hands along his slightly chubby (but strong) torso as you pushed him onto his back on the bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you positioned his cock at your entrance. You looked down at him with a smirk as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

"You're just as bad" you whispered. John groaned as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, taking him inch by delicious inch into your tight, wet heat. He loved the way you fit perfectly around him, how you squeezed and gripped him with every thrust. "And you love it," he teased, placing a hand on your hip as he started to roll his hips up into your. "Don't deny it, love."

You bit your lower lip as you began to move on top of John. You moved slowly, riding his cock as you moaned softly. "Wouldn't be pregnant if I didn't" You admitted with a smile as you leaned forward to kiss him. John laughed softly as you admitted that you wouldn't be pregnant if you didn't love the sex as much as he did. He knew that was true - you always seemed to be ready for another round, no matter how many times they'd already gone at it.

"So lucky you're mine. My life. My world. My wife," he murmured, kissing you deeply before breaking away to watch you ride him. His hands roamed over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you that he could reach. (He's so in love with you, can never get enough) You smiled at John's words "My darling husband." You placed your hands on his chest as you leaned forward slightly, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You loved making John happy. You loved everything about him, even his rough edges, "Every day I thank my lucky stars that I found you."

His heart swelled with pride and love as you called him your darling husband. He couldn't help but return your smile, his own face lighting up with happiness. "And I thank my lucky stars that I found you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the light in my life, sweetheart. The one thing that makes this godforsaken world worth living in." 

"Oh John" You whispered and you slowed your movements. You cupped his face and placed one kiss on his forehead. "I wish I had more words to tell you how much I love you" then you placed another kiss on one cheek. 

"How lucky I am to have found you" and then another kiss on his other cheek. 

"How lucky I am to be your wife" and then finally one last kiss on the tip of his nose. 

"How lucky our children will be to have you" 

His heart swelled with pride and love (again) as you told him how much you loved him. He cherished these moments with you, these quiet moments of intimacy where they could simply be together without the distraction of the outside world. "I don't need any fancy words, sweetheart," he said softly. "Just knowing that you love me is enough." You leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips. You pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. Your hand reached up and moved some loose strands of hair off his forehead.

"I love you John" you whispered as you began to move again. John felt his heart melt as you whispered those three little words. It was always like hearing them for the first time, even though he'd heard them countless times before. He loved hearing you say them, feeling the warmth behind them. "Oh fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as you started moving again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "That's all I fucking need."

You continued to ride John, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned forward so that you could kiss him as you moved. You loved making love to John, especially now that you were pregnant. There was something about being intimate while carrying his babies that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

John groaned as you continued to ride him, your movements slow. He loved the way you moved atop him, how you kissed him passionately between thrusts. He could feel his climax building, his body responding to yours instinctively.

"Fucking hell, love," he gasped, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. "I'm gonna... oh fuck..."

You felt John's hands tightening on your thighs, you knew his climax building and you quickened your pace slightly. You leaned forward and kissed him again as you felt your own orgasm approaching. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight. "Oh God John!" you cried out as you came hard on top of him. John's climax hit him hard, his cock throbbing inside of you as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He groaned loudly, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself into you.

He felt your climax rip through you, your tight walls clenching around his still-hardening cock. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto you tightly as he continued to pump his seed deep within you. He could feel his balls tighten and churn, sending wave after wave of cum into you. "Holy fuck..." He breathed heavily, looking up at you with a satisfied grin. You placed your hands John's chest, panting heavily. You were still trembling slightly from your orgasm. You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the lips.

He let out a soft sigh as your fingers traced through his hair, the gentle touch sending shivers down his spine. He returned the kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate embrace. "That was... fuck, love," he said breathlessly, pulling back to look at you. "You're amazing."

"You're not too bad yourself" you replied with a laugh. Then you leaned down and kissed him again. This time you kissed his neck and then you kissed your way down to his collarbone. You then worked your way back up to his lips again. "I do love you. My wonderful husband" You whispered as you kissed him again. He chuckled softly as you teased him, complimenting him back. He loved the way you would always find ways to make him feel special, even after all these years together. "You know what they say about great minds, sweetheart," he joked, returning your kiss with enthusiasm. "They think alike."

"But seriously," he added, his voice growing serious. "I love you too, my beautiful wife. And I can't wait to start our family." You got off John and laid next to him, you kissed the side of his neck and then you laid your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and you closed your eyes. You felt content and happy. "I can't wait either" you whispered as you nuzzled into his chest "Only 6 months to go." John laid there quietly, listening to your soft whispers and the steady rhythm of your breathing. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he stroked your hair gently. "Just six more months," he repeated softly, echoing your words. "Then we'll finally get to meet our little ones."

You felt John get up and out of bed, "Where are you going?" You asked, your eyebrows slightly furrowing as you watched him put his boxers back on. John kissed your forehead with a small chuckle, "I'm looking after my darling wife and running her a well needed bath." He smiled warmly as he spoke, his hand gently caressing your cheek. The thought of taking care of you, of providing comfort and relaxation, brought a sense of satisfaction to him. "Besides," he added playfully, "I wouldn't mind seeing my gorgeous wife soaking in bubbles."

With a final kiss to your forehead, John left their bedroom and headed towards the bathroom. As he passed by the hallway mirror, he caught sight of his reflection - an older man, but one who was clearly devoted to his wife. A smile crept onto his face as he thought about their upcoming bundle of joys.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature of the water before pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. You sat up in bed and watched John leave the room. You looked down at your stomach and rubbed it gently and smiled as you thought about the babies growing inside of you. After a few minutes you got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you saw John filling the tub with warm water and bubbles. You smiled and walked over to him and hugged him from behind, snuggling your face into his bare back.

He turned around to face you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently. "There's my lovely wife," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Go ahead and enjoy your bath. I'll be right here if you need anything." You nodded your head and stepped away from John, you stepped into the bathtub and sank down into the warm bubbles. You sighed contently as you relaxed in the tub while John sat on the floor next to the bath tub, when he isn't at the base or deployed he's stuck to you like glue, never lets you out of his sight. Even more so now that you're pregnant.

John sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching as you sank into the bubbles. His eyes followed the curve of your body, admiring your beauty despite your casual posture. "It won't be long now," he commented casually, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Before we have three miniature versions of you running around." You laughed lightly as you heard him speak. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub and looked over at him, "Well hopefully they take after their father a bit more than me" you teased, winking at him.

John chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock denial. He knew that he wasn't as physically fit as he used to be, but it was flattering to hear you suggest otherwise. "Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart," he said with a playful smirk. "You've kept this old man on his toes for years."

"Oh shut up" you rolled your eyes at John's comment but couldn't help but laugh. "You're not that old." He chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched you relax in the tub. Your laughter filled the room, a sound that always managed to brighten his day. "Well, I may not be ancient yet," he quipped jokingly, "But I certainly feel it sometimes."

"You're not even 40 yet" you giggled as you flicked some water at him. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub, "Ancient my arse" you mumbled with a smile. John laughed heartily at your comment, dodging the water you flicked at him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours lightly. "Touché," he said with a toothy grin. "But just remember, age brings wisdom...and plenty of grey hairs."

"Mhm I like the gray hairs" you leaned over to grab his chin so you could bring his face closer to yours. "My husband is turning into a silver fox," you placed a gentle kiss on his lips "And here I was thinking you couldn't get any sexier." John's cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and something deeper. He returned your kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You're too kind, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But I must admit, hearing you say things like that does make an old man feel quite flustered."

You winked at John as you moved back into the bubbles, letting them cover your chest. Your hands slid through your wet hair as you sighed contently. "I can tell you're blushing" you teased him again. He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide his blush. He loved these playful exchanges with you, finding them endearing and enjoyable. "I am not!" he protested good-naturedly, though the slight pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. "Just...warm from sitting here."

"You, Johnathan Price, are an awful liar" you smirked as you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the bath, "You know better than to try and lie to your wife." John groaned slightly, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in your words; you had always been able to read him like an open book. "Fine, maybe I'm blushing a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But only because you make me feel so...special."

You laughed softly as you felt John's hand brush against yours. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, smiling warmly. "That's because you are special" you said softly, "To me you're everything." His heart swelled at your words, his grip tightening around your hand. He brought your knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on them. "And you, my dear wife," he said sincerely, "Are everything to me."

You squeezed John's hand as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You smiled softly as you listened to John speak. You were truly blessed to have such a caring and loving man by your side, "I love you" you whispered softly. John's chest tightened at your words, his heart pounding in his chest (I don't think he can handle any more sweet words from you). He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips once more. "And I love you, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can ever express."

"Now will you be a dear and wash my back please" you smiled sweetly at him as you passed him a loofah and a bottle of your favourite, and expensive (John bought you 5 bottles. He doesn't care because he loves spoiling you), body wash. John nodded, taking the loofah and body wash from your hand. He poured a generous amount of the luxurious liquid onto the sponge, creating a rich lather before reaching behind you. "With pleasure," he said, his fingers gently massaging your skin as he worked the soap into your flesh. 

"It's the least I can do for my beautiful wife."

You let out a soft moan as John started washing your back. His touch was gentle but firm, making sure to scrub away all the dirt and grime from the day. It felt heavenly. "Just to think. You'll be shaving my legs for me in the next couple of months" you hummed at the thought. Your belly so swollen you can't even see your feet. John chuckled softly at your remark, his fingers continuing their gentle massage. He couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life - soon they would welcome three new members into their family. "That's right, love," he said with a hint of awe in his voice. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You turned to face John, resting your elbows on the edge of the bathtub as you looked up at him. Your fingers traced along the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. "I can't wait to meet our babies" you said softly. His heart swelled with pride and joy (Seriously. His heart will burst) at your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip tenderly. "I can't wait either, sweetheart," he gave you a warm smile. "You've made this old soldier very proud, sweetheart."

You kissed John's thumb as he brushed it across your lips. You then kissed his hand gently as you held it tightly in yours, you closed your eyes and sighed happily. "Keep talking like that and I'll cry" being pregnant sent your hormones crazy, making you very emotional at times. The other day you cried because you saw a Corgi. (A very happy, very loved and a very looked after corgi) John chuckled softly at your comment, squeezing your hand gently. He knew pregnancy had its ups and downs, but he also knew you were strong enough to handle anything life threw at you. "Apologies, darling," he teased. "Didn't mean to make you all sentimental."

You giggled softly as John helped you out of the bath, "don't apologize! I like seeing you being sweet and thoughtful" you said softly. "It's one of the many reasons why I fell for you." He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you stepped out of the tub. He wrapped a large towel around your body, carefully drying off each droplet of water from your skin. "And what else did you fall for?" He asked playfully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "My charm? My wit? Or perhaps my devilishly handsome looks?"

You rolled your eyes as John teased you. You leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear "Oh John, don't flatter yourself. It was definitely your cooking" you half joked, his cooking was defiantly the one things that drew you in. John feigned a look of hurt, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ouch, sweetheart," he said teasingly. "After all these years, I thought you finally realized it was my irresistible charm that won you over."

"But if you insist on believing it's my cooking," he added with a playful wink, "I suppose I can't argue with that." You poked John's chest lightly as you walked past him and to your bedroom. You grabbed one of John's old t-shirts and slipped it on, turning to face him. "Come to bed, old man" you called to him. With a chuckle, John followed your command, stripping off his boxers before slipping under the covers beside you. He pulled you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "And don't you forget it," he murmured against your skin. "Best cook in the world right here."

You giggled softly as John nuzzled into your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. It always drove him wild, "Goodnight baby" you whispered softly. John sighed contentedly at your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggled closer to you. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Good night, sweetheart," he murmured softly, already feeling himself drift off to sleep.

As you drifted off to sleep, John lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. He traced his fingers along your arm gently, taking in the scent of your hair and savouring the moment. There was something truly magical about sharing a bed with the woman he loved, especially now that they were expecting triplets. Life didn't get any better than this, he thought to himself as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, John wasn't laid next to you like he always is. You slowly got out of bed and made your way downstairs to find the house was spotless, every surface gleaming and everything put away neatly. John was in the living room, reading the newspaper while sipping his tea. As soon as he heard you coming down, he folded the paper and set it aside, setting his mug down as well. "Mornin', sweetheart," he greeted you with a warm smile, getting up to give you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the kitchen.

You returned John's greeting with a small smile, walking over to sit on the couch. You watched as John went to make breakfast, shaking your head slightly as you did so. "You're spoiling me" you called to him. John returned to the living room, a plate of toast and eggs in hand. He sat down beside you, handing you the plate before sitting back comfortably in his seat. "Can't have my pregnant wife doing all the work," he said with a gentle smirk. "Besides, it's not everyday we get to enjoy this peace and quiet."

You took the plate of food from John, smiling softly as you started to eat. You rested your hand on your stomach, thinking about the babies growing inside you. "We should look at houses today." He nodded in agreement, finishing off his own breakfast before putting his empty plate on the coffee table. He turned to face you, resting a hand on your thigh comfortingly. "I've been looking at some places online," he admitted. "But nothing really caught my eye... yet."

You finished your breakfast, rubbing your belly gently as you thought about the babies. You smiled softly as you looked at John, "I'm thinking somewhere in the countryside, with a big garden. Maybe a field. Could even get some chickens." John chuckled softly at your idea, picturing their little family running around in a big garden with a bunch of chickens. "That does sound nice, sweetheart," he agreed. "And maybe we could even get a dog... or two."

"And a nice big house. Do what we want with it" you laughed softly as you imagined having a farmyard. You stood up stretching your arms above your head, yawning softly. "Build anything we want for the kids, like a slide, mini zip line attached to a tree house" John listened attentively to your ideas, nodding along in agreement. The thought of building such things for their children filled him with excitement and joy. "That sounds absolutely perfect, sweetheart," he said warmly. "A proper home for our little ones..." He paused for a moment, gazing at you lovingly before adding, "and a place where we can grow old together."

You blushed slightly as you saw the love in John's eyes. You stood there for a moment, watching as John got up and stretched too. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close for a soft kiss. John melted into the kiss, returning it with equal parts passion and tenderness. His hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you tightly against him. When they broke apart, both of them were panting slightly, but there was no denying the love and desire in each other's eyes. "You keep kissing me like that, sweetheart," he said with a low growl, "and we might end up forgetting about house hunting altogether."

You giggled softly as you felt John's hands on your hips. You kissed his cheek softly, pressing your body against his "That sounds like a very tempting offer, but I think we need to go house hunting first. Then we can come home and do what we please." You gave him one lass kiss on his chin before walking back upstairs to changed into some clothes for the day. Even though your words were teasing, John couldn't help but feel excited by the promise behind them. He watched you walk away, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your ass.

You walked upstairs, humming softly as you went into the bedroom. You was looking through your wardrobe for some clothes when you suddenly felt warm. Too warm. You felt faint and dizzy. You took a deep breath and sat on your bed. "Fucking hell" you mumbled before running to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing your curse, John immediately came running after you. Seeing you throwing up, he knelt down beside you, stroking your back soothingly as you purged your system. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured, sounding concerned. "Do you need anything?"

You shook your head as you leaned away from the toilet, "I'm alright." Seeing the worry etched in Johns face you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm alright John. I promise, just a bit of morning sickness. That's all." John helped you onto your feet before you went to brush your teeth. He let out a relieved sigh upon hearing your assurance. Still, he couldn't help but worry a little, especially since you were carrying their triplets.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked, placing a hand on your belly protectively. "If you need to rest, then we can postpone house hunting for another day." His voice was filled with concern and love, wanting nothing more than to ensure your wellbeing and that of their unborn children. You brushed your teeth, rinsing your mouth out before spitting into the sink. You wiped your mouth on a towel before turning to face him, "John. Stop fretting, I'm okay." You smiled softly before you went back to the bedroom to change. 

Sensing that you didn't want to be fussed over, John reluctantly stopped hovering. However, his protective instincts kicked in hard when it came to you, so he made sure to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on you as you changed into a sundress. "You've got that look, John." You didn't even need to glance at him to sense the anxiety etched upon his visage.

With effortless grace, you moved towards him, nestling between his thighs. Your gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head upward. Silence fell between you, yet the unspoken words resonated through your souls.

Your gaze roamed his features, each one a masterpiece in itself. His cerulean eyes held the depth and mystery of the ocean, their surface shimmering under the ambient light. A single freckle graced his nose, a charming reminder of his endearing imperfections.

And his lips—oh, those lips! They whispered sweet nothings in the darkness, painting vivid dreams upon the whispers of the night. As you gazed upon his face, you felt an overwhelming sense of admiration and love that eclipsed all else. 

At your touch, John felt himself melt. Your fingers were always magic, able to soothe away the worries that plagued him like ghosts. When you tilted his head back, exposing his throat, he couldn't resist a small shiver. Butchered as he was by war, you had pieced him back together, making him whole again. And right now, he was basking in your warmth, letting your touch do its healing work. Your eyes held an intensity that pierced right through to his soul. "I can't help it, sweetheart," his voice rumbled with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "You know I'd do anything for you." You smile softly, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. "I know you would, John. But you're worrying over nothing. I'm fine. It's just morning sickness" you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your palm.

As your lips met his own, John couldn't help but feel his worries fade away. The sensation of your soft lips against his own was enough to make everything else seem insignificant. "But you're worth worrying about, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "I can't help but worry when it comes to you and our babies." You run your fingers through his hair, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him once more, "One of the many reasons I love about you. One of the many reason why I said yes when you asked me to marry you." You pulled away from John and admired him one more time.

He couldn't help but lean into your touch. He loved the way you made him feel, adored the way you looked at him as if he were the most precious thing in your world. "And one of the many reasons I worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with affection and devotion. "You're my everything. My rock, my lover, my best friend..."

He paused for a moment, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his chest. "My wife..."

Your eyes sparkled with love and happiness as you listened to John. You leaned down and kissed him again, this time not holding back. Your tongue slipped past his lips, exploring his mouth hungrily. After pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, panting slightly. Your body tingled with anticipation, craving for more. Your hands started to roam over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, making him shudder with pleasure. "You’re such a good man, John. So caring, so loving..." You murmured, biting your lip as you watched his reactions to your touches. Feeling your tongue slide past his lips, John couldn't help but respond in kind. Their tongues danced together, a slow and sensual tango that left them both breathless.

When they finally broke apart, John could see the desire in your eyes. It mirrored his own, burning bright and hot. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as you explored his body. "And you're my everything, sweetheart," he murmured back, his voice husky with desire. "The woman who stole my heart and made me the happiest man alive."

Your hands continued to explore his body, sliding up to caress his chest. You bit your lip, watching him closely as you spoke "We should go house hunting soon... " You giggled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. Hearing you giggle sent a thrill down his spine. He loved hearing that sound, "We will, sweetheart," John assured you, his voice dropping lower as he watched you bite your lip. He loved watching you, seeing the desire in your eyes and the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands slid down to rest on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled you onto his lap. He groaned softly, feeling his cock twitch at the contact.

Softly, you gasp as John's hand reaches out to squeeze your ass, the electricity of his touch igniting your body. Your hips grind against his, the wetness between your legs seeping through your panties and his pants.

"John," you murmur, your voice a ragged whisper. "We need to...to..."

The words die in your throat as John's tongue invades your mouth, silencing any coherent thought. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands roaming your body, igniting a fire that consumes you. You're helpless in his embrace, addicted to the rush of his touch, the taste of his kiss. The house hunting you had planned becomes an afterthought, lost in the haze of desire that envelops you. Feeling you squirm against him only fuelled his desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring each curve and valley until he reached your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"Oh, sweetheart" John murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck. "We definitely need to..." His voice trailed off as he lifted you up, placing you on the dressing table near their bed. He quickly undid his pants, freeing his hard cock before pushing your dress up around your waist. "Just let me take care of that need for you," he murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your belly. Gasping as John presses a soft kiss to your belly, your back arches, pressing your stomach further into his lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the greying strands as you moan softly.

Your body trembles with need, every nerve ending on fire. Your pussy throbs, desperate for attention. Your nipples are hard points under your bra, begging for attention. "Please, John," you beg, biting your lip as you watch him approach your pussy. The sight of his thick cock makes your mouth water, but right now, all you want is his tongue. Feeling your fingers tangle in his hair, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of desire. Your pleas only served to stoke the flames within him, driving him wild with lust.

With a swift move, he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them wider apart. His fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, pulling them aside. His gaze lingered on your pussy, drinking in the sight of your wet folds before lowering his head. His tongue darted out, licking along your slit teasingly before delving deeper. He groaned in delight as the taste of you filled his senses, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. A loud moan ripped from your throat as John's tongue lapped at your folds. Your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that delicious sensation. But then he pulls away, leaving you panting and needy. Your nails dig into his scalp, urging him to continue. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please don't fucking stop."

Hearing your plea, John couldn't help but smile against your pussy. He loved hearing you beg for him. He obliged, resuming his ministrations with renewed vigour. His tongue delved deeper into your folds, swirling around your clit before dipping inside you. He groaned in pleasure, feeling your walls clench around nothing as he fucked you with his tongue. His hands moved up to grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he devoured you. He was determined to make sure you came hard, screaming his name as you did.

Feeling your walls clench around nothing, John couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He loved making you feel good, loved seeing you lose control. He continued to lick at you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he felt you start to quake. He knew you were close, so he doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit as he thrust two fingers into your tight cunt. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your cunt, his voice muffled by your folds. He wanted to hear you scream his name, wanted to taste you as you came.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as John's tongue thrust deep inside you. Your whole body shook, pleasure rippling through your veins like wildfire. Your pussy clenched tight around his probing tongue. His name was a mantra on your lips, a prayer and a curse rolled into one. Over and over again, you screamed it as waves of orgasm crashed over you. Your juices gushed forth, soaking his face and staining his shirt. Feeling your walls clamp down on his tongue, John sucked in a breath through his nose, savouring the taste of you. He loved tasting you, loved the way your body quivered beneath his touch.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and tongue, cleaning himself off with his tongue before sitting back on his heels. His eyes were dark with lust as he looked up at you. He could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "You're such a fucking goddess," he said, his voice rough with desire. He stood up, towering over you as he gripped your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him.

Panting heavily, you could do nothing but nod in agreement. You were still trembling, your legs weak as a noodle. But even though you were shaking, there was a satisfied smirk on your face. You moaned softly as John gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. There was something about being held captive by those blue eyes of his that made you melt. You loved it, loved everything about this man. As he towered over you, looking down at you with that hungry expression, you found yourself reaching out to pull him closer. You needed more, needed him to fill you completely. Watching you reach out for him, John couldn't resist. He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. His kiss was possessive, demanding, but also gentle. It was a mix of love and hunger.

As you kissed, John reached down to position his cock at your entrance. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed inside you, groaning into your mouth as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Moaning into John's kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. Your tongue dances with his, lost in the intoxicating flavour that is uniquely John. The feeling of his cock filling you sends shivers down your spine. You gasp against his lips as he pushes deeper, stretching you wide. You can feel every inch of him, filling you completely. Your hips begin to rock against his, grinding down onto his length as you try to take more of him inside. Your body moves instinctively, seeking that sweet spot deep within you that only he can hit just right.

Feeling your hips grind against his, John couldn't hold back any longer. He began to thrust into you, setting a slow and deliberate pace. Every stroke was designed to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, making you moan and squirm underneath him. One hand left your face to grip her thigh, lifting it high over his hip as he pounded into you. The angle change had him hitting that spot even better, and soon he was groaning as well. His thrusts became harder, faster, as he chased his own release. His other hand left your face to wander lower, to tease at your swollen clit. He knew you were sensitive after your orgasm, but he also knew you liked it rough. So he teased you mercilessly, pinching and flicking until you were whimpering beneath him.

When his hand lifted your leg higher, you let out a strangled cry. The new angle had him hitting that sweet spot perfectly, and you could do nothing but beg for more. "Fuck... oh fuck, John!" You cried out, your voice raw and desperate. You his your face into his neck as you placed on hand on the dressing table underneath you to keep you up right.

Feeling your nails dig into his back, John couldn't help but grunt in satisfaction. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with all the strength in his powerful body. His balls tightened as he felt his climax approaching, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He groaned out your name, his voice hoarse with desire. He was close, so very close, and he knew he'd find his release soon. Feeling John's thrusts become more forceful, you can barely form words. All you can do is arch your back and scream his name. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, trying to milk him for his release.

"Oh God, John! I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again!" You cried out, your voice shaky and filled with desperation. You could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last one. Hearing your cries and feeling your pussy clench around his cock, John knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, pounding into you with abandon. But then you cried out that you were going to cum again, and that was all it took. With a roar of your name, he came hard inside you. His seed spilled deep within you, filling you up as he rode out his orgasm.

As he slowed down, he moved his hand away from your clit and instead wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He pressed his forehead against your as he panted for breath, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Gasping for air, you collapse against John, your body limp and sated. You can feel his hot cum spilling inside you, filling you up. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm. As you catch your breath, you lean into John, pressing soft kisses along his jawline.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, your voice soft and tender. You know that no matter what happens, you'll always have this - your love for each other. John gently pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his nose against your before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced small circles on your back as he held you close. Leaning into John's touch, you let out a content sigh. Feeling his fingers tracing small circles on your back, you relax further into his embrace. "We should probably clean up," you murmur, kissing his chin softly. You let out a little sigh as you feel his cock twitch inside you. "And go house hunting" you chuckled, you knew this would happen, not that you cared, you and John were addicted to each other.

Nodding slightly, John gave a soft hum of agreement. But there was no way he was moving from you yet. Not while he could still feel your warmth surrounding him, not when your thighs were spread apart like some kind of offering. His fingers kept tracing those lazy circles on your back as he watched you, drinking in every detail of your flushed face, every bit of your exposed skin. And then he caught himself looking at your stomach, where three tiny lives were growing. "Yeah, we should definitely get cleaned up," he agreed, though his tone didn't sound very convinced about it. Sat on the dressing table with John, you smiled as you looked up at him. There was something incredibly sexy about seeing him all sweaty and panting after just making love to you. You reached up and stroked his cheek, letting your fingers trace down his bearded jawline.

"You're such a mess," you said playfully, smirking at him. You knew that if you didn't get him to move soon, he would throw you onto the bed. John grunted softly as your fingers traced over his beard, sending shivers down his spine. He was indeed a mess, but he didn't care. He was happy, satisfied, and in love. And right now, he didn't want to move. He gave you a smirk in return, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. "But I'm a mess because of you," he growled against your lips, pulling away only when he needed to breathe. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place. 

Caught off guard by John's sudden advance, you gasped into the kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips easily, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your arms snaked around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, you stared up at John, your grey eyes darkening with desire. You licked your lips subconsciously, tasting him even after the kiss has ended. "You better be," you replied, smirking at him once again. You knew that he would never change, that he would always be the same old John who was crazy about you.

John grinned at your response, his eyes darkening with lust. He loved how you teased him, how you pushed him until he was on the edge of control. It was part of what made their relationship so damn perfect. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, almost possessively. He loved that you were his, completely and utterly his. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly through the fabric of your dress. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, his hands leaving your ass abruptly. Before you could protest or react, he picked you up effortlessly and gently tossed you onto the bed, following you down with a growl of pure need.

With a squeal, you found yourself falling backwards onto the bed. The impact caused you to bounce slightly, your breasts jiggling enticingly underneath your dress. Looking up, you saw John looming over you, his eyes filled with raw desire. "Johnathan Price" you laughed and he pinned you on the bed, "no, we're looking for a house today and that's final."

Hearing your words, John let out a frustrated groan. But he knew you were right. They did need to find a new house, one big enough for their growing family. However, that didn't stop him from wanting you, needing you. His body craved yours, desired you. And right now, he didn't give a damn about anything else except for you. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, rolling off you and lying next to you on the bed instead. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair. "But don't think this means you've won," he added, giving you a pointed look. His hand moved lower, reaching under your dress to cup your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

Rolling onto your side to face John, you placed a finger on his lips silencing him. You knew that he would keep arguing with you and you weren't going to let that happen. "Don't argue with me mister" you raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He grunted softly, feeling your finger press against his lips. But he couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. Despite his gruff exterior, he loved these moments - the ones where they bickered like an old married couple. It was proof that they belonged together, that they fit perfectly.

But despite everything, he couldn't resist pressing his lips against your finger, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swiped across the pad of your finger before releasing it slowly. "Don't tell me what to do, sweetheart," he said with a smirk, even as he kept his hand under your dress. His thumb began rubbing slow, gentle circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gently wrapped your hand around his throat, just below his jaw and leaned in so your breath was hot on his face, "you may be the Captain of the Task Force but I am your wife." You licked his lips and pulled away with a smirk, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from your thigh.

Feeling your hand wrap around his throat, John allowed a low growl to escape his lips. You had no idea how much that turned him on, how much he loved the thought of you marking him, claiming him as yours. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when you removed his hand from under your dress. A frown formed on his face, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he saw the playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, leaning in close to your ear. His voice was low, husky with desire. He nibbled on your earlobe gently before pulling back. "Well then, Mrs. Price," he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck towards her collarbone, "I suppose I should remind you who's the boss in our bedroom."

"Johnathan Price, stop it" 

Your breath hitched as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. When his lips trailed down your neck, you bit your lip, trying not to moan out loud. Goddamn, why does he have to know exactly what buttons to push? He heard your sharp intake of breath, felt the shiver that ran down your spine. The sight of you biting your lip, trying to hold back those moans, only served to fuel his own desires. It was clear that you were enjoying this, even if you were trying to act all tough. Ignoring your protests, he continued his trail of kisses down your neck, stopping just above the swell of your breasts. His hand came up, fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin material of your dress.

"I can't seem to help myself, love," he murmured huskily. "I'm addicted to you."

You whimpered, feeling his lips on your neck and his fingers trace along your breast. Your nipples were hard already, poking through your bra and dress. God, you wanted him so badly right now. He was your addiction too, you couldn't stay away from him either. "John..." You whispered his name, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we don't go now..... We'll never find a house." Feeling your nipple harden beneath his touch, John couldn't resist teasing it further. His fingers circled around the stiff peak, pressing just enough to elicit a gasp or a moan from you. He loved hearing your sounds, loved knowing that he could make you feel good.

His other hand snaked its way between your thighs, his fingers finding your wetness through the fabric of your panties. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how soaked you were. Damn, you were ready for him. "You're absolutely right," he agreed, even though there was a clear note of reluctance in his voice. "We should probably get moving." Despite saying that, he didn't move away. Instead, he pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over you. His blue eyes locked onto yours, full of lust and love.

As he hovered over you, your hands reached up, gripping his hips tightly. You needed something to hold onto because goddamn, he was making you lose focus. Every single time he touched you, you lost control. "Fuck, John." You muttered under your breath, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your nails dug slightly into his flesh as you tried to regain some sort of control over yourself.

But it was hopeless. As soon as he started moving again, you'd be putty in his hands. Or rather, you'd be melting underneath him. Feeling your nails dig into his skin, John let out a low groan. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his cock, which was already throbbing painfully against your thigh. "But fuck, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with desire. "You make it so damn hard to think straight." He moved away from you, standing up fully. But instead of heading for the door, he took a moment to strip off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso. Then, he turned around, giving you a perfect view of his ass encased in tight fatigues as he found a clean shirt to wear.

Watching him take off his shirt, you swallowed hard. God, he looked so fucking sexy. And the way he moved... it was like watching a predator move. Powerful, confident, and deadly. When he turned around, showing off his firm ass, you couldn't help but lick your lips. You wanted nothing more than to bite down on that perfect roundness. To leave marks on him that would show everyone who he belong too. But you knew better than to do that. Because once you start, you wouldn't stop until he was completely marked up. So instead, you settled for ogling him as he searched for another shirt. Feeling your eyes on him, John couldn't help but flex his muscles a little more. He loved the way you watched him, the hunger in your eyes. It made him feel powerful, desirable.

He found a clean shirt and slipped it on. The fabric clung to his muscles perfectly, highlighting them even more. Then, he turned around, giving you another perfect view of his body. His cock strained against the confines of his pants, clearly outlined by the fabric.

"Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart," he warned. "And I might just forget about finding us a house."

With that, he started walking towards the door. But he paused for a moment, turning around to give you one last look. His blue eyes were dark with desire, and they held a silent promise. You licked your lips again, your eyes following him as he walked to the door. The sight of his cock straining against his pants made your mouth water. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside of you. When he turned around to look at you one last time, you almost melted on the spot. That silent promise echoed in your mind, and you knew that tonight, you'd be getting everything you wanted. So you stood up and went to the bathroom to quickly freshen up (And clean the mess between your thighs John made earlier) before meeting him at the front door.

The sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the countryside as you and John pulled up to the final house on the list. You had spent the entire afternoon going from one house to another, but none of them had felt like home. This one looked promising from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another disappointment waiting to happen. You stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in your stomach. John squeezed your hand reassuringly and you walked towards the front door. The estate agent greeted you with a warm smile and led you inside.

The house was spacious and well-lit, but it lacked the charm and character you were hoping for. The rooms were too formal and the layout didn't feel right for a family. You could imagine your children running through the halls, but it just didn't feel like home. As they walked through the empty rooms, John could see the disappointment in your eyes. He could understand why this place wasn't feeling right for you. It was too big, too cold, lacking the warmth only a home could provide. It was clear you weren't happy here, and that broke his heart.

When they finally exited the house, John could see the relief in your eyes. You were disappointed, but you also seemed hopeful. There was still hope that they would find a place they both liked. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you support.

"We'll find a place, sweetheart," he assured you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "It's just a matter of time."

With that, he opened the car door for her, letting her slide into the passenger seat. Once you were seated in the car, you looked over at John. His reassurances always managed to lift your spirits, no matter how gloomy things seemed. You smiled softly at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," you said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

Your fingers intertwined with his, and you held on tight. They may not have found a home yet, but you knew they would. Together, they would build a life, a home, a future. Feeling you squeeze his hand, John gave you a small smile. It was moments like these that reminded him of what truly mattered in life - not the houses or the money, but the people. You were worth more than any house or mansion ever could be.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, his voice soft but filled with love. "I'm just glad I can be there for you." He waited until you were buckled up before starting the engine. The drive back home was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was peaceful, actually. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing even. It was a rare moment of tranquillity in their chaotic lives.

As John pulled into the driveway, you glanced at your phone. A text from Gaz, your friend, popped up. 'How's house hunting going, lovebirds?'

You let out a sigh. 'Not great. Nothing feels like home.'

You typed back your reply, 'None of the homes we've seen feel right.'

Moments later, Gaz's response lit up your screen. 'I may have found a home. Here's the address.'

Confusion washed over you. "Gaz found a house?" You told John, handing him your phone.

Seeing the message from Gaz, John raised an eyebrow. The man never failed to surprise him. He took the phone and read the message, a smirk forming on his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath. He handed the phone back to you. "Looks like Gaz has something up his sleeve." Even though he trusted Gaz, the fact that the man hadn't mentioned anything about a house earlier was a bit concerning. But then again, Gaz had a habit of keeping secrets. Sometimes it was because he was being secretive, other times it was simply because he forgot to mention things. Still, if Gaz thought it was worth checking out, then maybe there was something to it after all. After all, Gaz had a knack for finding hidden gems.

You arrived at the charming countryside abode, where Gaz greeted you with a warm smile. "My friend's selling this gem," he said. "You've got the first peek."

As you stepped inside, your heart skipped a beat. It was a picture of blissful perfection. Rolling hills stretched beyond the lush field, ideal for chickens and even a few cows. A thriving allotment overflowed with fresh produce. The backyard was a veritable playground, begging for a treehouse, a zip line and what ever else John decides to build. You couldn't help but imagine your future children scampering about, their laughter echoing through the serene countryside.

But the house itself took your breath away. From the cosy living room to the spacious bedrooms, every detail exuded comfort and charm. You couldn't believe your luck. It was everything you had ever dreamed of—a place to raise a family, to create a lifetime of memories. The moment he stepped foot inside, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. This place...it just felt right. As if it was meant to be their home. He noticed the way your eyes lit up as you explored each room. Your excitement was contagious, making him grin widely. It was hard to deny that this was indeed a perfect spot for raising kids.

"Damn, Gaz..." he muttered appreciatively, giving him a firm slap on the back. "This is fucking perfect." And just like that, he knew this was it. This was their home. No matter how many places they'd seen today, nothing compared to this quaint little cottage nestled in the middle of nowhere. Your eyes shone with unshed tears of joy as you turned around to look at John. Seeing his approval made your heart swell with happiness. "It's perfect, isn't it?" You asked, your voice filled with awe and wonder. "Like it was waiting for us."

You ran over to John and threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you close against his chest. You could hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat underneath your ear, and it soothed you like nothing else. "I love it, John." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the emotion behind those words was palpable. Holding you close, John felt a surge of emotions welling up within him. This was it. This was their new beginning, their forever. And damn, did it make him proud.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. "It's absolutely perfect." His hands roamed over your body, squeezing gently before letting you go. He needed both hands free to properly appreciate the beauty of the house. "And I love it too, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with warmth and affection. You turned to Gaz and brought him for a big hug, "Thank you so much Gaz. "Watching you thank Gaz, John couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration for the man. He might act like a dick sometimes, but deep down, Gaz was one of the best friends anyone could ask for.

"That's my boy," he grumbled, clapping Gaz on the shoulder before turning back to you. "Don't know why you're thanking him though. We're the ones who are getting the house." Despite his teasing tone, there was genuine gratitude in his eyes. Gaz had done good. Real good. "But yeah, thanks mate," he added, slinging an arm around your waist as he led you towards the front door. "For finding this place and all."

With that, he opened the door and ushered you outside, ready to start planning their new life together.

[essentiallyleaf]

day 12. praise kink. with. choerry.

944 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x female reader, praise kink, pet names, public masturbation, oral sex, squirting, welcome to fluff central.

notes.

just trying something out. a permanent state of being at this point. exploratively, leaf.

It was the first time she tried ice skating, that day. A regular Saturday morning at the mall, wearing layers upon layers just to end up feeling way too hot. As regular as any day spent with Yerim can be. Her favorite part was when she was holding onto the barrier for dear life, but you managed to push her off of it a handful of times. Anytime you did, you helped her precarious balance by guiding her with your hands in hers, or on her waist. That was your favorite part.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?”

“I fell fourteen times, dude! I managed to fall as I was reaching for the cup of coffee you were giving me, and I was standing still! What do you think?” She said while laughing enthusiastically.

She didn’t like it at all, and she had the time of her life.

“I think you did great”

-

“How about you take me on a real date?”

“A what?”

“You know what they say about Paris…”

“That for each person there’s two rats?”

“That it’s the city of- wait, WHAT?”

She dragged you to a terrace bar in Montmartre, the sun was just setting, blues and oranges meeting on the roofs from the Sacré-Cœur down to the Louvre, giving the city a slightly wistful aura (it was hella expensive, but what isn’t, there? Plus, you’re okay splurging, if it’s for Yerim). It wasn’t sad, it was just cool, and dreamy. It was romantic. A postcard-worthy place to share your first kiss. It wasn’t for your first, but for your fourth that she asked a local to take a picture of it. It felt very awkward, both of you were laughing the whole time.

“Sorry if I taste like alcohol”

She usually doesn’t drink, so she felt really self-conscious about it. You found that endearing. The flavor had a deep cerise, leaning purple tint and resembled some kind of fruit, you couldn’t really pinpoint which.

“You taste like heaven”

-

You went to the lake together for a weekend trip in April. You convinced her to go on a hike on the first day (“You said there wouldn’t be any scary cliffs!” “Come on, it’s barely even a drop, you can do it! Just take my hand!” “You ugly liar!” “I am only one of those two, and you know which”; she always falls for stupid flirty lines like that), she was so tired at the end of it, so she decided that both of you would spend the next day relaxing. Relaxing ended up meaning hiding behind a large tree near the hotel and raising her cute white long flowery dress to her waist for you to finger her while your tongues met.

“You can stay silent while we do this, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Want a hand?”

“Yes, please…”

You put your other hand on her mouth and started sucking down her clavicle to her cleavage as you picked up the pace. She kept whimpering the whole time and even let a high pitched scream into your palm as she came. In the (very real) event that someone heard her, at least they had the decency to not show that.

“You did amazing, baby”

She really didn’t. Old couples kept looking sideways at the two of you for the rest of the day, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because you were a lesbian couple in the conservative countryside. But you know she needed to hear that.

-

She likes putting make-up on even when she’s staying home; she says she finds it fun, at some point both of you silently acknowledged that she also just wants to look good for you. And God, does she look beautiful with that exaggerated orange-pink blush on her cheeks. Or, actually, maybe it was just the wine that gave her face that amazing glow. You couldn’t really tell, you also had your fair share of glasses. You also don’t remember much of what happened before that sexy blush-tinted face found itself between your legs and was hit by a couple of little squirts as Yerim brought you to orgasm only using her tongue. What you do remember, is that all you wanted after that was to reciprocate the favor.

“Thank you, thank you so much, baby,” you panted out. “So good for me, that was so good”

“Hehe~”

The time of her life. This time though, with that slutty make-up, girl cum dripping from her features, it looked lewd.

“Now just lay back on the couch and stay still, honey, you don’t have to do anything else, okay?”

“Okayy~”

“Nice and cozy, just be my good girl and relax, yeah?”

She could only moan back as soon as you started eating her out. You couldn’t just give up on talking altogether though, so you compensated for the lack of oral stimulation with your fingers anytime you detached your lips from her core.

“Are you close, sunshine?”

Her adorable little whiny noises answered for her.

“Then I need you to do one thing for me, hm? Just one thing. I need you to let it go and cum for me, don’t restrain, sweetie”

When she cums, it’s a hurricane. Of spasms, screams, and sprays of transparent liquid coming your way.

“Yes, baby, so good. Let it all out, my baby cherry.” That’s what she tasted like. “My perfect baby cherry. Come here”

You surrounded her in a warm embrace and covered the two of you with her oversized zip-up hoodie. As you kissed her blushed cheek, Yerim looked like she was already asleep.

“You did awesome, cherry girl. You are so perfect”

-

footnotes.

sorry for bad dialogue. cheesily, leaf.

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

Summary: Ghostface makes his first move, how will you and Tara react?

Warnings: Violence, slight gore, suggestive themes, Tara giving powerbottom vibes, kissy kissy noises, fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m still writing out the plot for the rest of this series, so if you have something you really want to see, send them in my asks! As always, thank you for all the love <3

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.

It doesn’t happen exactly like that; it’s all a blur of feelings and pure animal instincts. When you see Ghostface make his way towards Tara, full force with a knife held over his head, something in you snaps.

You can’t seem to focus on anything else.

Tara whom you’ve been enamored with at first sight, Tara who makes you monthly playlists, who remembers your class schedule, Tara who just kissed you.

Tara. Tara. Tara.

Ghostface’s a finger away from Tara before you grab your computer; still playing Titanic, and slam it across his head.

“Get the fuck away from her.” You spit, watching as Ghostface whirls around bewildered, obviously not anticipating you fighting back.

He’s bigger than you, but he looks unsure. You see it in his stance, in the grip around his knife.

He surges at you, hands gripping around your shoulders tight. The knife is still in one of his hands, you’re acutely aware of it. You guys thrash around wildly, and fall onto the floor; hard. His head connects to the pavement with a loud thud, and for a moment you think he might be dead.

That is until Ghostface lets out a groan, and reaches out to try and grab you again. He’s weakened, and you take the moment to your advantage, kicking at his shins with all your might.

He cries out, grabbing at thin air.

You’re about to reach forward and rip the mask off his face, but Tara stops you with a tug on your arm.

You furrow your eyebrows, sending her a questioning look. Did she not want to find out who Ghostface was?

“Come on, we have to go. They’re still- Sam, she’s still down there.” She rushes out, and it’s only then you notice some messy mascara stains are running down her cheeks.

You frown. You know Tara’s a nervous crier, but it’s never happened right in front of you.

It seems like only then Tara realizes she’s been crying. Her cheeks flush red a little in embarrassment, but she’s still staring at you with urgency in her eyes.

You swipe quickly at her cheeks.

You follow her lead, but not before locking the door to the roof; leaving Ghostface locked up outside.

Sucker.

You and Tara sprint down the stairs and into the apartment, stopping short at the sight in front of you.

It’s a mess.

The coffee table is broken, carpet stained with blood; but worst of all, it’s empty.

You search for any signs of life, any screaming. They were here moments ago, where could they have gone? More importantly, where was the other Ghostface?

There’s always two, you remember.

You decide you don’t want to stick around and find out. You grab Tara’s hand, tugging her out of the apartment and down the stairs of their condo.

“Tara!” Sam’s voice bellows from below you. She looks uninjured, other than a couple of blood stains on her shirt.

You guys round the last corner of the stairs to come face to face with all your friends. Anika and Mindy stood tight together, holding onto each other’s hands for dear life. Chad’s behind them, looking smaller than you’ve ever seen him.

Sam’s at the front, nothing but fury in her eyes.

She rushes to Tara the moment you guys hit the floor, taking her in her arms; holding tight.

Despite the mini-argument they had before, Tara melts into her sister's arms. She sniffs a couple of times and buries her face in her sister’s shirt.

Then, Sam turns on you.

“What were you thinking? Bringing Tara up alone, when Ghostface is on the loose like this?” She hisses, eyes hard.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, hm? Distract Tara, let your partner come in and attack us. Was that your plan all along?” She continues, accusations spewing out of her.

“Sam, I know it looks bad but I did not plan this. I would never, ever hurt Tara. Ghostface came and attacked us too.” You reply, starting to feel agitated.

She scoffs and turns away.

“Are you guys okay?” You ask, turning and searching their bodies for any serious cuts or bruises.

“He didn’t come for us. He came in, gave Anika this, then went straight to the roof.” Mindy answers, voice hollow. She’s staring at the wall behind you, and you’re anger dissipates into uneasiness at her empty gaze.

Her words make your eyes dart to Anika. She’s cowering behind Mindy a little, one arm bloody, the other pressing into the wound. Your eyes widen.

“Oh, my god. Anika, are you okay?” You start walking up to her, but an arm in your way makes you stop in your tracks.

Mindy stares at you, accusatory glance in her eyes. Anika pushes her hand away gently, debating in a silent conversation. It seems Anika wins when Mindy finally let's go, and you send her a grateful smile.

“I’m okay. It hurts like hell right now but I’ll be fine.” She says, voice strong. You breathe out in relief, “I’m glad.”

“I think you need more urgent care than me though.”

You raise your eyebrows, what was she talking about?

“Oh shit YN, you’re bleeding,” Tara says as she pulls away from her sister, quickly rushing to you.

You look down, and you realize that you are in fact bleeding. Quite a lot actually, how you didn’t see it before was a wonder.

Your shirt is ripped at the part below your collarbone, and a deep cut could be seen; from your shoulder to the skin a little above your chest.

Woah, where did that come from?

It must’ve been the adrenaline, that stopped you from feeling it before. Because the minute you see it now you feel a throbbing pain shoot up immediately.

Tara stares up at you, her eyes guilt-filled and worried.

“Does it hurt?” She asks, her hands twitching at her sides; like she wants to reach out and soothe you.

It sure does hurt, but you’re not going to worry her with that now.

You bring your hands to her cheeks again, wiping a new teardrop that just fell. Now that Ghostface isn’t here, you take your time wiping her face. Savoring the feel of her skin against yours.

“No, it doesn’t.” You mutter softly. It might be a lie, but if it lets you stay in this moment forever you’d gladly say it for the rest of your life.

A cough from Sam once again breaks you out of your trance. She’s still glaring at you intensely, but at this point, you don’t even care.

“So, there was only one Ghostface?” You question, mind starting to get slightly woozy.

“Only one for this attack, we don’t know for sure if there’s only one.” Mindy corrects, and you can almost see the cogs turning in her head.

“Can you get your hands off my sister now?” Sam cuts in, still scowling. How are her eyes not tired?

You roll your eyes slightly; not enough for her to see, because well she was Samantha Carpenter. The only family your girlfriend-? had.

Was Tara your girlfriend now? She kissed you, but that could mean anything. She’d agreed to the date, but she could’ve easily changed her mind after it.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Tara takes you in a hug.

You can’t help but wince at the sudden contact with your open wound and she pulls back quickly.

“Knew it. You are in pain.” She mutters, before pressing her lips to your cheek.

Your eyes widen and you flush red embarrassingly fast. You stare at the rest of the group while she does this, gauging their reactions.

Sam glares, Chad has a pained expression, Mindy’s eyes soften, and Anika has a small smirk playing on her lips.

You’re still embarrassingly red when Tara pulls away, making her smirk as she eyes you.

“Shut up.” You mumble.

Tara tuts, “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your lover, now, is it? But I’ll let it go just this once. You did take a stab to the shoulder for me, after all.”

You don’t have time to process the fact that she called you her lover before she grabs your hand and pulls you outside; where an ambulance is waiting.

Getting fixed up wasn’t so bad, especially when Tara was by your side the whole time. Sat in peaceful silence; you can’t help that your mind starts to wander.

Ghostface was back, and you could tell it affected everybody in the group. You were lucky in a sense, this was your first time experiencing it; you didn’t carry that same trauma they did.

You glance at Tara, whose eyes are dark and gloomy. She’s watching Anika get fixed up too.

“I can’t believe the motherfucker is actually back.” She says, more to herself than you.

“We’ll get through this, Tara. You’ll get through this. You always have.”

She doesn’t say anything as she scoots in closer and wraps an arm around your waist. You don’t have the heart to tell her the position hurts your wound.

You don’t think you mind though, if it means staying here in Tara’s arms; where you belong.

“I think you should flee the country,” Tara starts abruptly. “It didn’t work for me and Sam but I think it might work with you. Ignore what I said before, you aren’t the star of this movie, it should work.”

You feign offense, hand over your heart.

“Well damn, you didn’t have to attack me like that.”

Tara shakes her head, still looking vexed. She turns to stare into your eyes, a serious look painting her face.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, and if you’re with me you will get hurt. Maybe even more than this.” She says, almost whispering.

You chuckle a bit and pull her head down so it’s resting on your shoulder.

“Tara, you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you. I was serious about before, as long as I’m with you; I’m content.” You tell her, and her hands wrap tighter around your waist.

She doesn’t say it out loud, but she wonders how she got so lucky with you.

She tilts her head up to kiss you on the cheek.

You don’t tell her, but you’re thinking the same thing too.

-

If Tara was flirty before you confessed your feelings to her, then you could call her behavior now feral.

It hasn’t even been a full day since the attack, and so far; Tara’s managed to pull you into four different rooms in the apartment to make out.

You’re yanked into another one, her hands madly grabbing at you.

“Jesus chr-“ You barely let out before she’s kicking the door closed and connecting her lips to yours.

Her kisses descend to your neck, hands on your waist.

“Tara. Sam’s in the living room.” You warn, trying to push her away gently.

She bites down on your neck, enough to hurt.

“But I want you,” She says, voice muffled by your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long. Now that I have the opportunity I’m not letting it go.”

You whimper slightly. Now that was embarrassing.

She smiles and takes your lips in a fierce kiss. You reply just as eagerly, fingers curling in her hair.

“Do you not want me?” She asks, biting at your bottom lip.

You stifle the groan that threatens to leave your mouth. Shake your head no aggressively.

“Of course, I do,” You mumble. “I just want you know…our first time to be, special.”

She softens a bit at your confession, reluctantly pulling away.

She huffs as she says, “Fine.”

You miss the feel of her body against yours immediately, and you grab at her; bringing her back into your arms.

“I never said we couldn’t do other stuff though.” You whisper, leaving little pecks on her lips.

She grabs your face and brings you to her lips forcefully, “Don’t do that, kiss me like you mean it.”

You gladly do.

-

“So…any chance you’re taking me on that date anytime soon?” Tara asks, arms propped up on the bed.

You swallow, try and steady your breathing.

Then you nod animatedly, “I really want to, but with Sam and everything…I think we’re on house arrest.”

She hums and falls back into the bed beside you.

“We could still sneak out, I do like pissing off my sister.” She suggests, eyes sparkling.

“Well, I don’t. Sam already thinks I’m a psycho killer, I don’t need her thinking I’m irresponsible too.” You reply, fingers tracing the fabric of her clothes.

Tara whines, pulls you closer by the collar of your shirt.

She flashes you those pleading eyes, and you feel your argument start to dissolve immediately.

“Please? I want to go on a date with you.”

You're silent in your thoughts, debating if it’s worth it to give her what she wants.

“Please,” She whispers a final time, and you decide that her begging is your new favorite thing to hear.

“Okay.” You relent, and she smiles victoriously.

“I can’t wait.” She giggles, giving you a quick peck and letting go of your collar.

When she gets up and out of the bed, you protest. She looks almost guilty as she tells you, “Sam’s gonna kill you if I stay in here any longer.”

You reluctantly nod, agreeing with her statement. She sends you a quick smile before exiting, leaving you sprawled on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, millions of thoughts racing through your head. One comes out victorious.

How are you going to plan a mind-blowing date in one day?

[cougheemedicine]

Twisted Fairytales; Twisted Wonderland Fantasy!au - Prologue

Will include all main cast x GN!Reader

Summary: A nameless adventurer with an incredible amount of friends in high places. Each more infamous and conniving than the last. The things those friends are willing to do for you is only a glimpse of how a so-called "Nobody" ensnared the most powerful in the continent.

A/n: A little au I'm cooking up. Not entirely sure where this will go so I'm not going to put any warnings/specific content until I get the individual chapters out. If this goes anywhere I'll probably add Neige, Che’nya, Rollo, etc. I already have come ideas cooking up for them. Have fun, dear adventurer~ 〜(￣▽￣〜)

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

        Night Raven College. An incredibly prestigious academy, whose history goes so far back in time that only the oldest Fae of the Briar Valley can even begin to fathom the legacy that such a renowned institute holds, and whose reputation reaches even the darkest corners of the kingdom. Aristocratic families from all over the continent vie to send their children to study the art of magic in its' hallowed halls.

        You had attended such a college, once upon a time, though you are far from noble. You met the esteemed headmaster by chance one day, but you didn't know at the time. You had sold him a newspaper, and he grinned at you from under the beak of his mask and patted you on the head. He flipped a single gold coin into your shaking hands, it was the most money you had ever seen at the time. When you had turned around to thank him, more than ready to drop onto your knees and praise the dirt he walked on, he was gone. Leaving only a lone, ink-black feather in his wake.

        You can only assume he took pity on you. Some unclaimed, nameless child, too old to be taken in by an orphanage but too young to be sent off to the mines. In a village so small and far North it didn’t even have a name. The old crones of your small village would wax poetic about his benevolence and graciousness (only after they prattled on about his villainously handsome face). You couldn't even read, let alone weave illusions from incantations or summon a beast from a bubbling brew.

        But he appeared before you nonetheless, with a flurry of his feathered cape. He offered you his hand, that which dripped in gold, and swept you off to Night Raven College. Over the years he taught you everything you know now. He taught you how to paint and juggle, how to fluently read and speak every language used on the continent, even some more eccentric practices like how to identify cursed objects, how to weave certain sprigs of herbs together to create the most powerful warding charm, even which nerve to pinch to have any assailant drop unconscious instantly.

        While under the roof of Night Raven College, you met creatures from every walk of life. One could say you were popular, even. Everyone wanted to get to know the charge of the infamous headmaster Crowley. You grew close to many, some you would even call your friends. Some others, maybe more. But they led very different lives than you. Friendships fade, it's simply a way of life. Even if waving goodbye to them as they graduated and left you behind stung in a way you don't really wish to name.

        You stayed at the college longer than most. Not taking classes, simply acting as an errand runner for the headmaster as a way to repay him for guiding you to a much better path in life. But even he, past his grandeur and games, could see that you wished to spread your wings farther than the astronomy tower and botanical garden.

        With a final pat on your head, he sent you away to pave your own path. His name and the beautifully detailed dagger on your hip, an ivory crow head for the hilt, as your only weapons. On your own you ventured for more years, gaining wisdom from those you met on the way. You had all but forgotten your old friends from your school days. All until one fateful day.

        Sat on the edge of the cliff, you gazed down at the view below you. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vibrant hues. You were in your own world, leaning back on your arms and kicking your feet over the edge of the cliff. Until a shrill meow drew your attention elsewhere. A scruffy grey cat emerged from the undergrowth. Eyes too blue to be a normal feline blinking up at you. A black and white bow tied neatly around his neck. In his mouth was a letter, the envelope only the most ornate of finery. The crest on the wax stamp was that of a noble house.

        The cat curled up in your lap as you used your dagger to cut the envelop open. The parchment inside just as luxurious as what housed it. You scanned the words on the page, language so flowery and formal it may as well have been another language of it's own, but you got the message.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

Where will you go first, dear adventurer?

Heartslabyul Manor, the home of the ruthlessly strict Grand Duke Riddle Rosehearts and his cronies. They say he bows to nobody but the queen himself.

Savanaclaw tavern, the home base of a ragtag group of mercenaries. Rumor has it their roguish leader, Leona, isn't of this land, and that his reputation is far from good where he’s from.

Octavinelle Gambling Den, a house of luxury and debauchery. The head, Master Azul, is said to be incredibly kind and benevolent. For the small price of your darkest secrets.

Scarabia Merchant's Guild, a travelling guild with gold flooding from every crack in their coffers. The ever-so-kind Master Kalim is said to only be the face of the guild. His servant is who really runs things.

Pomefiore palace, the main residence of the illustrious Queen of the region, Vil Schoenheit. His past is stained red, as is the story of how he managed to sit on the throne. But the people adore him, so what is there to see if not perfection?

Ignihyde tower, the hiding spot of the forsaken Lord Idia Shroud. Head chair of the Magic Council. His brilliance is said to be unparalleled, but people talk... and sources say he hid himself from society after committing a sin to magic itself.

Diasomnia castle, skeptics say that centuries ago, the old castle at the northern border was occupied by Fae royalty. Now it seems there's life in those haunted halls once more, for an air of regality hangs heavy in the fog surrounding the grand castle.

        Many a path to choose, and you have all the time in the world. But, even still, do you think it wise to keep them waiting?

        I wish you luck,

Choose wisely, my dear adventurer~

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

[chillwildwave]

The Wishing Kingdom: Chapter 1: Our Story Starts

(The screen is blank for a few seconds, until a font that says “A few years later” appears, one that faded away, we get our first glimpse of the hamlet, in that area, there’s triangle-shaped roofs of each house staked onto cobblestone rocks in front of some swoopy trees as it’s built as a safe habitat for others to stay safe from the king and queen, then, we see some ragged-clothed people holding on to some laundry and some soil to create a fireplace for themselves to stay warm and to make some food from it as well.)

(Like this shot from The Last Unicorn except it’s showing the rest of the Hamlet.)

After 2 minutes of all that is going on, we get introduced to 12-year-old Asha as she is seen sleeping in her bedroom until the sunshine splashes on her face, waking herself up even though it was so early in the morning.

���Woah! Is it that time already, it’s gone fast than I can hardly imagine!” Asha stretches her arms while seated in her bed, she also got a small glimpse of her pet goat, Valentino with a piece of white cloth on his mouth persuading her to do her work.

“MAAAAAA” Valentino screeched with such enthusiasm.

“Hey there bud, ready to start the day?” She hops out of bed to touch his face as she gently takes the cloth out his mouth, not long after, we get to see Sakina and Sabino walking over to Asha’s side.

“Awww, our little Asha being a grown-up lass, isn’t she just so gentle?” Sabino touches her cheek playfully while he gives his hand to petting Valentino, Sakina joins in too before she is urged to say something as well.

“Yeah, you’re so right, dear, and she will always remain to be here with us for eternity.” She slowly looks at Asha, a slow orchestral background plays that is so loving and gentle before Asha speaks.

“Awww, thank you guys, I could’ve never asked for anything better, now, who’s ready for chores?” She got herself up and held up the white cloth as if she were one of those guards, almost leaving confusion on Valentino, Sakina and Sabino’s faces.

That is until Valentino started jumping around Asha with his paw gesturing the outside of the hamlet, being impatient, from that reaction, Sabino, Sakina and Asha look at each other before they shrugged, grabbed their equipment and opened the door to a brand new day, which leads to the first song!

Our Hamlet/ Our Rosas

In this opening musical number, it shows us what life is like between both worlds, the hidden hamlet which was made as a safe habitat for folks who want to be safe from the king and queen who held Rosas captive, it’s a bit like “Belle”, “Circle of Life” and “Steady as The Beating Drum”, it’s sort of like that but more of a welcome edition to the world.

(Before the song starts, Asha opens the cottage doors with Sabino and Sakina by her side as she grabs her basket to get her work done!)

(Asha)

The people have so much joy in the air,

They know a brand new day is here to stay,

It’s the same morning,

The town here is shining, whoops sorry!

(During the first line, we get a shot of a few people walking around and doing their work with smiles on their faces while Asha strolls around with her basket following every step, in the final line, she accidentally bumps into a young man who is just about to finish his laundry, as she runs off, he rolls his eyes and continues with what he is doing.)

Everyone’s got something,

On their mind that’s spinning,

Behind these roots and those leaves,

Lies a town I can’t leave!

(While Asha is singing the second line, she is seen jumping down on the stairs of each cottage simply made of rocks while observing the people around her, when she says the third line, she gestures the trees and spins around them as if this is her place of comfort.)

(Everyone)

Here inside this hamlet,

We grab the cloth and go,

The scrubbin, the washing,

Is all we have to hold,

Here inside this hamlet,

Our wishes stay aglow,

Who knows what miracles,

Have in store,

In our hamlet.

(With the chorus going in, we go into some townspeople telling others about the work and using their hard work as a purpose to keep their wishes glowing, in one shot, Leo is seen guarding one house whereas Dextrous sleeps on his shoulder, he wakes up suddenly to start guarding, in the final line, we than pan over to the kingdom of Rosas, where King Magnifico and Queen Amaya rule over their subjects.

A citizen of Rosas starts to sing as he is carrying a massive sack of royalty for the king and queen)

(Citizen 1)

With all this load left to hold, I might drain,

What if they find out, they might go insane!

(Citizen 2)

These broken wings of mine,

Yet when will they fly again?

(Both citizens are at the marketplace of Rosas when singing those lines, the first line is supposed to show how the people are forced to work tirelessly with no sleep in order to please the king and queen, and also, the line “these broken wings of mine, yet when will they fly again?” that citizen 2 is singing, the line is supposed to highlight how the citizens of Rosas are enslaved by Magnifico and Amaya’s power forcing them to do everything they say, but the question that is sung emphasises freedom for themselves so that they can pursue their own dreams of their own.)

(Both citizens)

It feels like death is holding on to me,

Just you wait for the day, we’d all be free!

(All citizens)

Right here in Rosas,

Where flowers stay bloomed,

Where a tragedy hits so deep,

Which made our home so bruised,

Right here in Rosas,

We’re holding onto our hopes,

Who knows what lies beneath this hoax,

Behind those heavy doors,

In our Rosas,

In our hamlet!

(In the last chorus, we get a massive set of choreography where the citizens are gathering around as they are dancing around the plaza, in one shot, you get a medium shot of a few people in rags being persuaded to dance along with the citizens, in another shot, some people dance around the statues of Magnifico and Amaya paired together, throughout this number, we get the idea that the Hamlet is a safe haven where they keep their wishes protected whereas Rosas is a literal dystopia where slavery is forced by the king and queen.)

After the number, the camera goes right back to the hamlet where Asha is just about to get her work finished.

There’s a point where she spots Dextrous humming the previous song whilst leaning against the cottage door, her hand rested on his shoulder while she suggests him to get on with his job.

“Eh, sorry miss, I’m just bothered at the moment, it’d be best if you leave me here to rest.” Dextrous replied as his eyes are half-closed like he was about to go to sleep.

“Oh, come on, doing your own work isn’t so bad after all.” She expressed while her hands grasped onto her basket of laundry where she was about to head to the river nearby, that is until Leo arrives with her sketchbook in his hand.

“Heh, looks like you forgot this! Now let’s see here, hmm…” He snoops over her pages (not in a mean way but more of a playful yet innocent way.) which only made Asha twitch her eye a bit, so she starts some banter while he still has her book.

“Been swearing, haven’t ya?”

“No, no I haven’t, I was only just filled with smoke, how can I not puff it all out?” Her sarcastic voice puts him off a bit but it doesn’t bother him.

“Heh, I didn’t know you can tell me how this got you to write like this?”

“Stop playing, Leo, it’s just my thoughts, and personally, it’s like everyone has a story.” She snatches the book of him while she rubs it with her apron, catching Leo and Dextrous aghast when she says that everyone has a story.

“Well, yeah, that is the truth.” She starts opening her sketchbook to show her some of her drawings with Leo and Dextrous. “This here is where I started my first drawing, I know it isn’t perfect like you guys would say it is.”

“Perfect?! Since when did I hear someone say perfect throughout their whole life?” Leo raised his eyebrow, he knew it was all a joke.

Asha’s eyes knitted the friends. “Um, dunno, it just came out of my head, the fact that it’s not really my best drawings…”

“Oh come on, we all love your drawings, imperfect or not.” Dextrous opened his eyes and expressed his true feelings to his trusted friend.

“Thanks… But, I feel like…” After Asha stutters on what is trying to come out of her mouth, we are shown that in a few pages of her messed up sketches and doodles to different types of constillations, gliding across the book as if its a first draft on her finished work,

(This is used to emphasise on how Asha has been willing to inspire people through her own work, she knows that sketching and writing her thoughts is her only strength and she has a fault for seeing the eyes of other people, but in terms of art style, she’s willing to improve as well.)

Leo and Dextrous were wide-mouthed after seeing her pages. “I see, it’s as deep as I could’ve imagined as well.”

“But no matter what happens, you don’t need to always say that you need time to finish with whatever you’re doing, what matters is that we’re here to support you, Asha, just remember that!” Leo’s words fuelled her heart which opened so wide with admiration.

“I mean, yeah, you are the one who fills the world with sunshine.” Dextrous replies as well. (There’s your first reference of the rewrite, Snow White right here, but this is used to describe how much Asha cares for her friends so much and they're willing to support her.)

“So you mean that whenever you’re turning black, I’m the one who completely changes your colour to make you brighter with my heart?” She questioned, she didn’t quite get it all at once.

“Yes, that’s what we mean.” Leo answered back.

Unfortunately, we hear Gilllia’s anger behind the cottage nearby, she is called by him but she walks over with her arms crossed and sat at the furthest pit of the cottage they were standing with.

“WHATS ALL THE FUSS ABOUT?! DIDNT MY DAY JUST CRUMBLE?! Her croaky voice caught everyone’s attention all of a sudden.

“Looks like someone got hit by the wrong ball over there!” Dextrous joked as he gestures right towards Gillia.

“Dextrous!” Leo scoffed and knudged him in the arm leaving him shocked.

“Anyway, what’s the point of showing these sketches and making them your life source, kind of a waste if you think about it.” She said more calmly but she still had that temper slipping through her veins.

“Oh Gilllia, it’s not that bad of a habit, unless you get bored of it like it’s the same thing, but you see here, this page looks off, can you see? Here?” Asha walks over to her and then gestures the page of a drawing of a hamlet citizen, (a concept art version if you want to put it correctly.)

It takes her a bit of time to figure out what is wrong with Asha’s drawing, she instead replies with, “There’s not a single thing I can point out, Asha, the drawing is actually quite good, since when did you get this sort of talent?”

“Taught it myself, you know, I was thinking I’d tell you guys since I’ve been curious about what wishes you’ll write for the stars.” The topic slowly changed as soon as Asha is sat between her friends whilst she is hesitant for their answers.

“To be honest, I don’t know what to wish for, but I’ve heard so many stories about the stars years ago.” This was Leo’s only answer he could come up with before Dextrous took his turn to answer.

“No matter how much I might’ve said this, I think I might wish to be more aware of my surroundings.” Dextrous looks down at his feet after that, “But I feel like I’m getting the hang of it, ya know?”

Gillia’s eyebrows transform into a distant frown when she was asked about what she wanted to wish for, but everyone else knew that her mouth was closed, maybe she isn't ready yet or she doesn't feel like talking about it with her other friends, even though they are the ones who she can trust.

“I guess she isn't ready yet, maybe we'll ask her at some point.” Dexterous patted on her shoulder and eyed right at Asha as she is about to pick her own laundry up from the basket.

“Yeah, but I feel like I also don't know what to wish for, making a wish is complicated because there are so many opportunities one person can hold, but does it really matter if we sit down with our head on the desk, we think about what drives us to pursue that wish?” Leo sighed while he slowly caught a glimpse of the morning sky. “When the stars come out, I hope they answer one’s call.”

“Don't worry, Leo, I’m sure they will come out someday, I know it, and it goes for all of you, when your wish is shown on a ribbon, the stars will listen closely and make sure to grant it as soon as possible!” Asha replied to Leo as his heart slowly began to warm up from her wisdom.

We then take a few seconds for the friend group to look at their hearts to make sure that their wishes are secured, meanwhile, Asha glanced at a castle not so far away and then looked back at where she was, until a voice appears…

“Asha! Time to go back home now!” The voice shouted from a distance.

From there, she starts to pack her laundry and before going straight away, she slowly starts saying goodbye to her friends and they wave back as she climbs up the rocks all the way back to her cottage.

*****************

Final Notes

This is the first chapter that I fully wrote to start off the story of “The Wishing Kingdom”, with the hamlet and Rosas song, I wanted to show you different sides of both worlds and how each person lives their regular life, what I also wanted to show you was the dynamic between Asha and her three friends with each of them supporting one another.

Forgot to mention that the montage of Asha’s drawings, I wanted to use that as a metaphor as to what Walt Disney truly meant when he wanted to create fairy tales into movies, like he did with Snow White, it's also a metaphor for animation as a whole, you know like teaching yourself the basic principles and how they inhabit life into characters and objects!

But don't worry, in Chapter 2, you will see Sakina, Sabino and Asha’s dynamic whilst also getting our first glimpse of the king and queen of Rosas and what they do for a living as well. But in that chapter alone, you will see that the wishes mean so much more to the Hamlet according to Sabino, so you will get more of him, so for now, stay tuned for more!

@annymation @uva124 @emillyverse @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @mythartist21 @rascalentertainments @oh-shtars @flicklikesstuff @ahomeinthestars-wishrewrite @frogcoven88 @ficsinhistory @synergysilhouette @tumblingdownthefoxden @kstarsarts @your-ne1ghbor @spectator-zee @rylxdreams @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @hopeyarts @dangerousflowerpanda

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Journey Out of The West Chapter 3 - Horse Stables

It’s been one year since Phoenix has come to this strange world. Guan Yin takes Phoenix to the Celestial Realm. Guan Yin tells Moksha to show her the horse stables. Apparently there is also a new Bimawen taking care of them.

- One Year Later -

Phoenix truly didn't know what was going through Guan Yin's mind when she decided to bring her to the Celestial Realm. There was no rhyme or real reason for her to be here, but here she was standing in front of the Jade Palace. At least not yet, Lao Tzu wasn’t back yet. He wouldn’t be for another four days, or years. However long he was going to be gone with this strange time difference.

She walked right behind Guan Yin who floated through the air as she moved along the ground. Moksha walked next to Phoenix his feet clicking against the ground as he looked around seemingly having some thoughts he wished to voice. She was curious as to what they were, from the time she has spent with him she has known him to be rather talkative except for when Guan Yin was in the presence of others.

Phoenix looked out of place next to the two who wore white gowns, with golden embroidery throughout them. Their clothes floated around them due to their powerful auras making both of them looking ethereal.

However Phoenix looked different, her hanfu was a deep red, with golden lining around the edges. Golden flowers were embroidered throughout the bottom of the fabric, roses, lilies, and orchids. Her sleeves billowed around her arms were held up for her hands to hold onto each other. Her hair had grown longer in the time she had been here, now halfway down her back that was braided together with the glamour hair pin in her hair where she had began the braid.

She was the only one of the three very clearly didn’t have a powerful aura, instead of her cloths or hair floating it laid flat against her skin. She gripped the shawl that was wrapped around her tightly as she followed behind the two. She forced herself to hold her head up high with a smile across her face.

For a moment she sped up just until she was next to Guan Yin. A smile played on her face as to cover up her nerves even if they didn’t really vanish.

“Lady Guan Yin,” Phoenix spoke quietly as her eyes darted around the hallway.

“Yes child?”

“What am I here for?” She asked curiously forcing her eyes from the ground.

“You are here to accompany me, it is not often I take on a new maiden and I wished to show you around the Celestial Realm. It is also to allow time to speed up just a bit for you dear,” She replied a warm smile on her face.

“Allow time to speed up for me?” The thought sent warmth through her heart, she wouldn’t have to wait as long to go home.

In the time she had been here she had learned a bit of archery, sword skills, and helped in the gardens. Besides that she has spent time with River and Flare but other than that her life was rather dull here. She longed for nothing more than to go home, go back to her sisters and her mother. She nearly gripped her chest at the thought of going home sooner than she had already accepted.

“Yes child,” The goddess nodded with her ever warm smile.

Phoenix’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and a wide grin spread across her face at the thought of truly going back home. She missed her family dearly and she was sure that they missed her too. Taking a breath she looked around at the hallway walls, or rather the wall on one side to her other side was full of pillars holding up the roof. Out through the pillars was a large court yard.

"You're quiet today," Moksha spoke up quickly catching Phoenix's attention.

"I'm always quiet," she grumbled back.

“Not this quiet, I thought we finally got you used to being around other people,” He replied dramatically. He had one hand pressed to his chest and closed his eyes as he spoke.

Phoenix rolled her eyes at his dramatics, it wasn’’t the first time she’d seen him act like this. But it was a welcome sight to see him relax after a little while of being in the palace, at his relaxed demeanor she soon found herself getting calmer. Her nerves dissipating as he started talking again.

“It’s your first time in the Celestial Realm so I’ll give you a break this time,” He stated as if he was doing her a favor, in a rather joking way.

“Why thank you, I truly have no idea what I would do without your forgiveness,” Phoenix responded just as dramatically.

The two quickly straightened up as soon as they noticed a group of maids walking passed them, even their robes floating as they walked. It made Phoenix feel self conscious about her own lack of power. She shook those thoughts away, she didn’t even need power because she would be leaving this world soon enough.

“Did you hear about the new Bimawen? I heard he’s a monkey,” The words of the maids came back to Phoenix causing her to turn her head, she had heard that word before. What did it mean again?

“Moksha, what is a Bimawen?” She asked curiously.

“The Bimawen is the head of the celestial stables. They take care of all of the horses,” Moksha was all too happy to explain the title to Phoenix.

Horses? Phoenix’s eyes widened with excitement, her eyes glittered and a huge smile crossed her face. Quickly she gently tugged on Guan Yin’s robes to catch her attention. The goddess did turn slightly surprised by her behavior.

“Can I go see the horses?” She nearly yelled before blushed when she heard how loud her voice spoke.

“You wish to see the horses?” Moksha asked with a chuckle.

“Of course child. Moksha I have someone I must go speak with, you can take Phoenix to the stables and show her the horses,” Her words caused Phoenix to grin in absolute excitement, she couldn’t believe her luck.

“Yes my lady. Come on Phoenix,” Moksha lead her away towards where ever the stables were.

As they walked through the halls she found herself lost and confused. She had no idea which way they came from or which way they were heading now. She’d never been good with directions but right now she could barely tell left from right. Luckily Moksha didn’t seem to be having the same problem at all. In fact he was taking every right step.

This was confirmed to Phoenix as they walked out into a large grassy field, that surrounded a large building. But the field there were several horses roaming and grazing for food. There were several stable buildings she noticed as they got closer, walking along a stone path.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” She said her nerves gone as they walked almost alone.

She didn’t notice how Moksha looked over at her and blushed ever so slightly as she twirled around to look around. Her robes spun around, tightening slightly around her waist before spreading out around her. She was absolutely gorgeous and he couldn’t help but admit that to himself.

"Can we go in?" she asked looking at Moksha with an excited smile.

"Of course" he grinned back however he was soon interrupted.

"Says who?" both Phoenix and Moksha froze and looked at the man who spoke.

No, not man this was... A monkey demon. A short one at that, beautiful golden eyes stared at the two as he glared at them. He was about 4 and a half foot tall. Bright golden, fluffy fur covered his body excluding his face and the palms of his hands. A dark red heart shaped mask surrounded his eyes while a single drop of red came from his bottom lip and down his chin. He looked more like a human with monkey features, similar to the form Phoenix had under her glamours just... Shorter.

"You must be the new Baiwen," Moksha was the first of the two to speak.

Sun Wukong, who was first the Baiwen of the celestial horses until he learned about how much his title really meant. A cold sweat rushed down Phoenix’s body as she tried to stop herself from gulping back her fear. Maybe it would be best that they left… then again. She stared at The Monkey King with a curious expression. He didn’t look that dangerous, and there was no telling if this world was really The Journey To The West.

“Yes I am Sun Wukong The Baiwen of The Celestial Realm! Who are you to come into my area!” He responded his hands on his hips as he glared up at the taller man.

“I am Moksha, a disciple of Guan Yin. I am here with Phoenix, we came to look at the horses,” Moksha explained with a slight frown on his face, he didn’t care for this demon too be caring for the horses of the celestial realm. There was no telling what this Monkey Demon would do to the horses, or if he even had to power to tend to them in the first place.

Unlike Moksha who doubted Sun Wukong’s ability to tend to the horses, Phoenix looked at him with curiosity. His anger made him look like a mad cat, the thought brought an amused chuckle out of her lips.

“And who says you have permission?-” Wukong growled harshly, his tail thrashing behind him as he glared at the two. His head snapped towards Phoenix as her chuckle left her lips. “And what are you laughing at!?”

Just as Moksha was about to speak, Phoenix spoke up. Her fear was gone at the thought of him being no more dangerous than a cat filled her head. There was no way that this was the Sun Wukong from The Journey To The West. She pushed her fear aside and spoke happily, a smile covering her face along with a slight flush of embarrassment. “Sorry, I just didn’t know that The Baiwan was someone so protective over the horses. Though I shouldn’t be surprised, a good caretaker is protective of what is his to protect,” She beamed happily, her words honest.

She didn’t notice the ever so slight flush of The Monkey King’s face. He quickly brought a fist up to cover his mouth which was attempting to stretch into a smile. He coughed once as he looked at the two. At least the woman knew how to respect her superiors, he thought before letting his smile turn into a smirk.

“OF COURSE I AM PROTECTIVE! I AM THE SUN WUKONG! THE MONKEY KING!” He yelled while grinning like an idiot, until he felt the ever sharp jab at the bottom of his foot. Shit! He was going to get rid of these people not let them manipulate him.

“Of course,” Moksha muttered, his eyes glancing between the Monkey King and Phoenix with a disbelieving look, he couldn’t honestly believe the nerve of this demon.

"Would the noble protector allow us to borrow one of the horses?" she asked with a joyful smile.

Wukong’s eyes widened at her smile as he let out a short huff. She was trying to manipulate him like all the other celestials in the celestial realm. He should turn her away, he should rip her apart for her words of falsehoods. A growl was at the tip of his tongue when he felt another jab at his foot. No! They were playing smart, he could get his revenge later.

“Of course,” He growled lowly, he didn’t want her here. Hell he didn’t want to be a stable boy at all, if it weren’t for Macaque’s plan… He huffed barely pushing past his anger and led the two celestial’s into the stable.

What he would do to just rip those two apart... He glanced over his shoulder and noticed the woman's awestruck look. He had to admit that she had her looks going for her at least, and from the way his shadow twisted so did his mate. Awe that was sweet his precious moon was jealous. The thought warmed his heart as he swayed his tail side to side.

“Why did you want to see the horses anyways?” Moksha asked curiously as Phoenix looked at each stead with a smile.

She glanced at him but didn’t respond. She knew why she wanted to see them of course but she didn’t know what she was supposed to say. Her sister loved horses it was where she own love for them stemmed from. Orchid always had a soft spot for them, she’d tried to teach her how to ride once, but Phoenix was too scared to let the horse even move forward before she gave up.

Now however surrounded by majestic creatures she didn't feel any fear, at least not towards the horses. She glanced at the back of Sun Wukong's head, a bolt of fear shot up her spine which she rather quickly pushed back down. This wasn’t some made up story, there was no way that this was the same Sun Wukong as those stories. There was a part of her that didn’t believe a word she told herself. The other part only hoped that she was right.

As she thought about it, she realized that she should have turned away when she realized who he was. But it was a little late for that and would seem awfully suspicious if she and Moksha just left now. So instead she took a deep breath and continued to walk forward. They would stay as long as was polite and expected and then they would go home.

Deep in thought Phoenix didn't notice the black tail that came from her shadow and up in front of her foot. A scream left her lips as she tumbled forward. Moksha quickly caught her before she could fall on her face with a shocked look at her fall. A heavy blush filled her cheeks as the tail disappeared back into the ground unnoticed by everyone but the chuckling monkey in front of them.

“Clumsy much?” He laughed as he continued to walk completely unbothered.

Phoenix blushed further as she stood up better, flattening out of hanfu. She couldn’t believe she just tripped, glancing at the ground she saw that it was perfectly flat. Had she just tripped in front of these two over her own two feet?

“Maybe we should go, Guan Yin should be done in-“ Moksha was cut off when Phoenix silently shook her head. She was going to see the horses, Guan Yin wouldn’t be done for a while and she knew that.

Moksha sighed but nodded. Wukong glanced at the two before once again leading them through the stables, his hidden glare twitching into a real smile. Maybe he could have some fun with these two after all. A few scares couldn’t hurt anyone.

They walked through the stables until they reached the back where there were several horses either sitting down or standing. Perfectly groomed fur, all seemed calm and peaceful. They were absolutely beautiful, Phoenix’s eyes widened as she stared at the scene before her.

“They are beautiful,” she muttered, her mind wandering a mile a minute. Her chest tightened as she let her thoughts wander. “Can I ride one?” She asked, her eyes twinkling in excitement.

Moksha immediately responded in a stern tone, “You can’t ride a horse while wearing a dress.”

Phoenix’s twinkling eyes dimmed almost immediately, her head drooping ever so slightly at the rejection. She wanted to argue but she knew full well that he was right, her dress would get in her way far too much for her to actually ride the horse. With a pout she turned away from the horses.

“We should get going,” Moksha began before cutting himself off when he heard a commotion outside. “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Of course Phoenix didn’t have any time to respond before the much faster celestial being left her alone. She grumbled to herself as he ran off, she could hear the commotion too, but there were no screams or sounds of distress. Still she didn’t want to leave the other to deal with the situation whatever it was on his own. So she started walking the way he left.

“BOO!” The monkey demon jumped behind her, but Phoeni didn’t even flinch as she turned her head to look at him with the only show of her surprise was her widened eyes. Which quickly calmed when she saw who it was.

“Was that necessary?” She asked tilting her head to the side.

Wukong blinked at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her to react in such a way. But his surprise was pushed away in favor of the wide grin that covered his face. This was interesting, far more interesting than the horses he was told to ‘tend to’.

He chuckled, “Of course it was.”

Phoenix stared at him with a frown covering her face before letting out a sigh. A smile graced her face and she gave a short bow to him to show respect. She knew the power that this single monkey demon possibly held within his grasp. It was some magic that she couldn’t even comprehend, something that she dreaded being on the receiving end of.

“I suppose that I should be on my way now,” She smiled nervously at the monkey demon in front of her.

Of course Sun Wukong didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable she was beginning to get. She had been with Moksha and him not to long ago and now it was just her and The Monkey King. One she had known that she shouldn’t get close to especially by herself and now had no where to escape to.

“Why leave so soon? You were just so excited to see the horses,” He spoke up a wicked grin across his face.

Phoenix blinked in surprise, she very much did not expect that from him like at all. She tried to think about what to say while still being very confused. “Um… what? I’m sure that you would prefer for me to get out of your hair,” She muttered looking between the doorway and the monkey demon who was blocking her escape.

Sun Wukong tilted his head in thought, his tail swaying lazily behind him. There was a dangerous look in his eyes, and she had no idea just how much trouble he was planning. She knew this was a bad idea, she knew… wait this is Sun Wukong at least she thinks it is. He is arrogant and very, very egotistical.

So she quickly hid her face behind one of her large sleeves, feigning bashfulness. “I wouldn’t want to bother someone who has so much responsibility. There are so many horses here and you are the head of the stables, I’m sure that you are very busy,” Her voice was quiet for the most part but loud enough for the Monkey King to hear.

It worked just as well as she thought it would. His chest puffed out, eyes glistening with pride and a wide smile spread across his face. It was actually really cute how excited he got at the praise she received. However her relief was short lived as she felt a harsh glare on her. Barely glancing around she found nothing but the shadows of the stables. That was, odd.

“I do have great responsibility this is true,” Wukong grinned excitedly, “But I can spare some time for a lovely maiden to show her around.” His eyes were twinkling mischievously.

He wanted to see more of this maiden, he wanted to get a reaction. She hadn’t even flinched when he jumped at her, it made him both angry and excited. Not just anyone would walk around so carefree around him. He felt a jab at his foot and calmed himself, he was toying with this girl and his darling mate was getting more jealous. Honestly it was so cute! His love always did get very jealous and protective of what was his.

“I don’t really think that I should,” Phoenix responded, nearly sweating bullets which she held behind a calm expression. As calm as she could make her expression anyways. It fooled the monkey demon in front of her enough but unbeknownst to her it did not fool the shadow that was right below her.

Macaque was initially angry that he had to hide away so quickly after they arrived in the Celestial Realm but as usual masked his anger easily. It was his job as his King’s mate to remain by his side at all times. Even if what he was doing was absolutely stupid. He wasn’t able to stop his mate from coming to the Celestial Realm, so the least he could do was come up with a coherent plan to survive this.

Flirting with some celestial maiden was NOT apart of his plan! He surpassed his growl as his mate circled the maiden. What made it worse was that she wasn’t ugly, no she looked rather nice in fact. Someone he also wouldn’t mind playing with if not for the fact that he wasn’t into the celestial realm ‘legally’ like his mate was. No he wasn’t supposed to be here, his mate was the only one summoned to come to the heavens.

The thought of the position that his mate was given sent his blood boiling. He wanted to scream and shout for this disaster, but held his tongue. They wouldn’t be able to get the peaches his mate wanted if he found out so soon, they wouldn’t be able to find any weaknesses if they were kicked out so quickly. So he bit his tongue almost enough to bleed as he pushed the thought away, planning to deal with it later.

He was a loyal mate that would make sure his Sun would get what he wanted. Of course as a loyal mate he wouldn’t leave his king’s side, so he came along to make sure that they weren’t going to harm his perfect mate. Which now meant that he had to watch as his mate had fun teasing and taunting everyone around the stables without him helping! He wasn’t pouting, he wasn’t! No he just wanted his mate’s attention for himself… and get to tease and tear apart these stuck up celestials by his side.

“I don’t really think that I should,” This girl had brains, at least some in her head if she knew that she should leave.

She was doing everything to get away from the situation as soon as she could. But the attention she was receiving from HIS mate was starting to get on his nerves, even if she was cute. Her heart beating wildly as she tried to cover up her fear.

“But you could always-,” Wukong’s words were cut off by the young celestial that had accompanied her.

“It was just a group of gossiping ladies. Lady Phoenix we should be on our way,” Moksha said with a slightly annoyed expression. “My lady is probably waiting for you.”

“Of course,” Phoenix perked up before rushing to him as fast as she could without rising suspicion.

As the two left, only Sun Wukong and Macaque were left inside of the stables. The shadow monkey finally having a chance to come out of his shadow. He wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist while burying his face into the peach scented neck. Taking a breath he looked up at his cocky mate who was grinning at him, his golden tail wrapping around his leg.

“Is someone jealous?” Wukong purred happily.

“You are MY mate,” Macaque grunted his own tail wrapping around Wukong’s thigh as he pulled them both to sit down.

With his ears fanned out he smirked, there was no one coming to spoil their fun this time. No one to bother- someone was coming. He growled as he muttered to his mate, “Someone else is coming, play nice. We can’t get the peaches you want unless if you remain calm,” Before fading into his shadow, pulling his mate’s tail with him until it reluctantly let go.

The people in question who were coming were a maiden and a guard. Both were dressed in elegant outfits, not even the guards were spared when it came to the luxuries of the heavens it seemed. Now what did they want?

>>><<<

“Are you alright Phoenix?” Moksha asked curiously looking over the girl who was calmly walking next to him without a word.

She glanced up at him and shrugged, was she okay? Yes, she was fine at least for the most part she was. Sun Wukong had done nothing to hurt her, not physically or even mentally. Her heart still pounded in her chest from the encounter.

“Of course, I’m fine,” She smiled after letting out a breath, she didn’t need to worry him for no reason.

She didn’t acknowledge the frown that graced his face, instead preferring to look forward with a smile. She held her head high as she walked confidently down the halls trying to keep her composer nice and calm. Everything was fine, there was no reason for her to worry anyone about her fear or ‘annoyances.’ She was grateful when he didn’t pry any further, preferring instead to walk in silence.

The silence was cut short by the sound of shouts and screams from behind them. Phoenix whirled around, her eyes widening as a sense of fear washed over her. Fire, there was fire. Billowing smoke wafted through the air, elegant yellow and orange flames dancing on something. That was… the stables!

What did Sun Wukong DO!? The question rang through her head as Moksha grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the commotion. Who pissed the monkey king off… unless….

Please leave a like and a comment. I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this chapter! I wanted to add Shadowpeach at the beginning before they have their falling out.

[paperultra]

le festin.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3,842 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, toxic family [A/N: yes this is partially inspired by ratatouille. inspiration comes from many places and i am not one to question it. happy new year <3]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms nemesism (noun): frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

“Murfus.”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Get me more darts.”

Murfus wrings his hands, glancing between you and the wall a few feet away. “I … I’m afraid I can’t get you more darts,” he replies tentatively, “on account of us being out at sea, Miss.”

“Then fetch the ones I’ve already thrown,” you snap, pointing at said darts. “Idiot.”

“Of course. So sorry, Miss.”

He scampers over to the wall and hurriedly pulls each dart out of it, rushing back to you with sweat on his brow. You snatch them out of his white-gloved palms.

Pinching the blue dart between your fingers, you hold it up to your eye and aim. With a sharp snap of your wrist, the dart flies forward and into the paper tacked onto the wood panel.

Murfus winces.

Crumpled, smudged, and pitted with pin-sized holes, one would have a hard time reading the article on the wall. But you know what it says. You’ve memorized its structure, can land a dart onto each line mentioning that damned restaurant by name. And you do.

“Murfus.”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Read the menu to me again.”

“Of course, Miss.” You hear the crinkle of paper and the sound of him clearing his throat. “The appetizers are as follows …”

You only half-listen as the man continues, the other half occupied by the wall in front of you and the starting paragraph steadily being destroyed by your hand. Your tongue draws across your teeth.

“In all our years as food critics, scouring the East Blue for any semblance of palatable cuisine in a region brimming with endless possibilities, no other restaurant has come as close to unlocking the flavor of the seas as the Baratie.”

—

You had, by all accounts, a privileged upbringing.

The Nouveau Blue Guide is not royalty, nobility, or military – but it is an empire in its own right, a name that’s afforded you many opportunities and comforts since you were young: a fine education, luxurious business trips, a roof over your head and plenty of food to eat. Your family’s reputation as food critics, built by your great-grandfather and painstakingly maintained up to this very day, is unmatched in the East Blue.

Such is your birthright. A birthright that, despite your toil and travels and countless, countless hours spent writing reviews, your parents say you do not deserve.

“You call this an article?” Your mother brandishes the draft you’d submitted in hopes of some constructive criticism, her voice climbing high. “It’s a mess!”

“I haven’t polished it up yet –”

“There’s nothing worth polishing. Frankly, it’s embarrassing that a child of mine has written something like this.” She passes the article over to your father. “Darling, throw this away. I’m already stressed as it is.”

Your father takes it. Gives it a cursory once-over. Your tentative anticipation dissolves in the pit of your stomach when he sighs, shaking his head at you. “You’re not cut out for this career, dear,” he tells you, folding your article in half and then quarters and dropping it into the bin by your mother’s desk. “Claudie is already taking over the Guide. Your time is better spent improving your etiquette.”

You breathe in. Keep your hands relaxed, square your shoulders. Nod obediently with clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

You know that your family means well. They want you to live a successful life, find a successful spouse, and raise successful children. They don’t want you to waste your time because your time is valuable.

Well, today, you’re going to prove that you are not wasting anything.

“We’re ready to disembark, Miss.”

“Good.”

Standing up, you put on your gloves and hat, picking your notebook and pen up from the table before walking with Murfus down to the dock.

He accompanies you to the entrance of the Baratie, then falls back so you may walk in alone. The maître d’hôtel welcomes you and promptly gets you seated at a booth on the ground floor, not too close to the stairs to distract you from the ambience of the restaurant and not too close to the kitchen to hear the ruckus of the cooks.

In the brief space of time before your waiter arrives, you take everything in. Dim, cozy lighting. High ceiling. Few windows. Sitting in the Baratie is like sitting in the belly of a whale. Perhaps you can make a point about it being a bit too enclosed, but given that its main customers are seafarers looking for reprieve from the elements, you don’t think many would find that damning.

You make a few half-hearted but detailed notes.

“Hello, madam.” A voice from above interrupts your writing.

You look up, irritated.

The waiter before you is a handsome man, blond-haired and broad-shouldered. He flashes you a charming smile upon meeting your eyes as he sets a plate of bread rolls down, standing close enough that you can smell cigarette smoke mixed with spices and just the barest remnants of cologne.

You recognize him immediately.

“My name is Sanji, and I have the immense pleasure of being your waiter this evening. Shall we start with drinks?”

Stifling your confusion with a sneer, you place your pen down.

“Is the Baratie so short-staffed that they have their sous chef waiting tables?”

Sanji’s smile freezes for just a moment. He seems to recover quickly, though, shaking his head and chuckling at your query.

“I’m flattered you recognize me!” he replies. “No, I occasionally wait tables when the owner requests it, that’s all.”

You do not buy it.

“Then, Sanji, I will have a glass of Ithürzburger Stein to start,” you say.

He nods. “Excellent choice. I will get that for you straight away.”

His eyes dart shamelessly to your open notebook before settling back on your face. To your utter surprise and dismay, he winks at you before heading off.

Your cheeks warm without warning.

Nobody, let alone a waiter (even if he really is the sous chef), has ever winked at you before. They had the good sense not to. It’s incredibly crude, and surely, you’re more offended than anything else – handsome or not, such behavior deserves a scathing call-out –

But … what if you’re overthinking things? What if it isn’t a big deal because it doesn’t affect the quality of the food? Your parents always take context into consideration – the Baratie is beloved for its rough-and-tumble personality under the guise of upscale dining, so perhaps this is part of the experience. He may not have even winked at you at all.

“Tch.”

You release the tablecloth from your grip, grabbing a bread roll instead and sinking your teeth into it. It’s light, sweet, and perfect. You chew quickly and swallow hard.

The sous chef comes back soon after, your requested bottle of wine in one hand and a polished glass in the other.

“Your Ithürzburger Stein, madam,” he says, opening the bottle and pouring you a glass with practiced ease.

He watches intently as you pick the glass up and bring it to your lips. The aroma reaches your nose, and it takes an immense effort not to wrinkle it as you take a sip. You’ve never particularly liked alcohol. This one is sour and dry.

“It’s alright,” you say, wishing you could rinse the taste out with juice. “I’m ready to order my appetizers and entrées.”

“Of course.”

You rattle off a few items, having memorized the menu after listening to Murfus read it so many times. For the appetizers, wakame salad with sesame-ginger dressing, Sea King croquettes, and grilled plums with goat cheese. For the entrees, Sambasian crab-stuffed salmon with roasted potatoes and chickpea stew. They’re nothing particularly unique or outstanding, but you feel that they are worth evaluating.

Sanji takes your order and leaves you with another dazzling smile, and you make the excuse of drinking more of the wine to avoid it. Maybe you will be a better writer drunk than sober.

Probably not.

Alone once again, you occupy yourself by exploring different ways to describe the wine, the bread, and the atmosphere. When you tire of that, you eavesdrop on the booth next to yours. It seems to be occupied by a group of marines, each attempting to one-up the others in the world’s shortest dick-measuring contest. You tire of that much more quickly.

When your appetizers arrive, you’re examining the arrangement of the silverware and the quality of their polish.

“Is the table set to your liking?” Sanji asks while lining up the plates. He takes more time doing so than is necessary, in your opinion.

“How it’s set doesn’t matter as much as whether it’s clean and accessible,” you reply, eyeing the croquettes with interest. “Tell me, where do you get your Sea King meat?”

“The Gourmet Hunter Guild supplies us with most of the rarer meats we serve here. The Sea King meat in your croquettes was just delivered this morning, so I’d say you’re quite lucky, madam.”

“What species is it?”

“Baron of the Tides.”

“Barons of the Tides tend to have a strong taste and tough flesh. Not many people are fond of it.”

Sanji’s eye glints as he rests a hand on the table, leaning in. “You know your food,” he says. “I expected no less from the Nouveau Blue Guide, and yet I’m still impressed.”

“It must not take much to impress you, then.”

“It takes a lot, actually.” He winks at you, and this time, you’re sure of it – and it’s strange because you don’t feel leered at, not at all, and your cheeks warm yet again. “Regarding the meat, no matter what it is, a good chef can make anything into a delicious meal. You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Of course, madam. You’re the expert, after all.”

You are glad when he finally leaves, if only because you have no idea what to make of him. It’s difficult to tell if he’s being patronizing, and you can usually tell.

You sweep your gaze over your appetizers and take a deep breath.

Starting with the wakame salad, you inspect its presentation – a round pile of rich green seaweed in a smooth black bowl – and take a small portion to chew on.

The seaweed strikes a perfect balance between tender and firm, and the seasoning is perfect.

Fine. Whatever.

Next, the grilled plums with goat cheese. You take one bite; the creamy earthiness of the cheese complements the tender sweetness of the plums, and the caramelization is obnoxiously fantastic. You eat an entire half to make sure.

It looks like your last hope for this round is the Sea King croquettes.

Plucking one up with your fingers, you cut your teeth through the crispy, golden breading. The meaty interior strikes your tongue and your intake of breath is sudden, your free hand curling into a tight fist underneath the table.

It tastes good.

All three of them are really good.

This is horrible.

When Sanji drops off your entrées, you hardly realize that he’s there, too engrossed in the scent and the sight and the taste of the food.

“I hope the appetizers were to your liking?”

Sanji somehow gets the hint when you stab your fork into the Sambasian crab-stuffed salmon. He clears his throat and leaves you to your own devices.

You eat, and with each bite, your frustration mounts.

The Sambasian crab-stuffed salmon is flaky and succulent, the potatoes roasted to crisp skin and creamy flesh. The chickpea stew sits hot in your mouth and fills your nose with a parade of fragrant spices. It tastes amazing soaked into the bread rolls. Nothing is undercooked, or overcooked, or sloppily presented. Everything is just right. Just perfect.

You spend what feels like hours in the mouth of the booth, tasting, writing, crossing out, agonizing. The sounds of the Baratie die out until all you can hear is the scratching of pen against paper and your own breathing and pulse.

No, no, no, no.

It’s … it’s impossible. Any complaint you have is simply an expression of your own personal preferences, and your personal preferences don’t mean shit.

Your writing utensil is nearly buckling under the pressure by the time Sanji comes around for the nth time, and you’re just about ready to skewer him with it along with whoever else has the luck to wander too close.

“Are you interested in dessert, madam?”

“Of course I am,” you grit out.

All you’re met with is that damned smile of his. “Wonderful. Here’s our dessert menu.” He holds it out and you snatch it from him. “Someone with such a sweet face deserves something just as sweet.”

You snap the menu shut.

“Surprise me.”

Sanji blinks while you glare up at him, handing the menu back.

“… Pardon, madam?”

“I want the famed sous chef of the Baratie to prepare a dessert for me,” you say evenly. “I don’t care what it is or how long it takes. Surprise me.”

“I … of course.” He straightens up, the most serious you’ve ever seen him this entire evening. “Whatever you want.”

—

You wait.

The sous chef returns, not even an hour later, with a white ceramic bowl in hand and none other than the owner of the Baratie stomping after him.

“Your dessert, madam,” Sanji says, though a bit hurriedly. “Rice pudding with mango –”

He’s interrupted by Zeff, who grabs him by the back of his collar much like one would do to an errant cat. You raise your eyebrows, watching Sanji’s expression immediately wrinkle into one of annoyance.

“Little eggplant, you stop and listen when I’m talking to you.”

“Are you serious, old man? I’m in the middle of –”

“I told you that you’re off the line. No customer can change that, no matter who they are.” Zeff casts you a wayward glance and frowns before dragging Sanji back towards the kitchen. “We’re gonna have a little chat, you and me.”

Despite his bitter protesting, Sanji leaves your table with Zeff, and you’re left with your final course and the curious eyes of several diners.

“What are you looking at?” you bark at them, and they quickly go back to their meals.

You look down at your dessert. There’s a sprinkling of cinnamon on the surface, and it’s crowned with bright, paper-thin slices of mango, but rice pudding is so … simple. You’re almost insulted. But you are also surprised, and that is what you asked for.

Scooping up a bit of the pudding, you place it into your mouth, closing your eyes.

Two seconds later, you slam your spoon onto the table and stand up.

You can feel the sturdiness of the kitchen’s doors when you fling them open, your gaze immediately falling upon a mop of blond hair in the corner.

Heading straight towards him, you seize the front of Sanji’s well-pressed shirt and drag his face close to yours.

“What did you put in it?!”

Your shriek explodes through the noise of the kitchen staff. Sanji stares at you with wide eyes and oddly reddening cheeks.

“In the pudding?” he asks, bewildered. “Not much, really. Glutinous rice, coconut milk, salt –”

“Goddammit.” You shove him away and dig your nails into the back of your neck, chest and throat tightening. You can feel your breaths beginning to quicken and your eyes starting to sting. “Shit. Shit.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa”—Sanji puts a hand on your shoulder and it burns—“sweetheart, what’s wrong –”

“Where does that back door lead to?”

“Er, a dock? We take smoke breaks –”

“Excuse me.”

Shaking him off and pushing past him, you head straight to the door, open it, and close it behind you.

And then you scream.

Gods, you’re fucking ruined. You’re a fucking failure. Your parents were right, Claudie was right, you can’t do this and you could never do this and now you’re at the back of the East Blue’s only five-fucking-star restaurant having an emotional breakdown over eating food.

You scream until your voice breaks, until you’re left kneeling and gasping for breath on the filthy, wet dock.

You cough. Cinnamon lingers in the back of your throat, and you start crying.

Behind you, the door creaks open.

"[Y/n]?"

“Please don’t let my family hear about this,” you burst out without even turning to look at Sanji. “I’ll pay whatever amount you want.”

“Nobody’s going to be saying anything.” You feel him approaching, and then he drops down to sit next to you. “However, I’m very concerned about you. What’s got you so upset?”

“Why do you care?”

“A lovely lady such as yourself shouldn’t have to suffer alone.”

“Oh, please.” You hug your knees to your chest. But Sanji doesn’t leave, and after a few minutes, the words fall unbidden from your mouth, having nowhere else to go. “… I wasn’t assigned to come here.”

“Hm?”

“My family”—you swallow the lump in your throat—“they don’t know I’m here. I came here to write a review on the Baratie and get a … get a star taken away.”

Gods. That sounds so fucking stupid now. What is wrong with you?

“You did?” Sanji sounds baffled. “How come?”

A wet laugh crawls out between your teeth. “You’re the only restaurant my parents have ever given five stars to, you know that, right? So I figured – I-I figured if I could find out something wrong with the Baratie, they’d realize how good I can be at this job. I’m good at finding flaws. I’m good at details. This should’ve been … I should’ve found something.” You glare down at your lap. “But I couldn’t. Not even in the stupid dessert you made.”

“Oh.” A moment of silence occurs in which you can practically hear him gather his thoughts. “… I suppose I can take that as a compliment,” he says slowly, crossing his legs. “But is that really how you see food? Something to find fault in?”

“It’s something to evaluate. I’m a critic. It’s what I’ve always wanted to be.”

“But do you enjoy it?”

You frown, sniffling. Your brow furrows.

You want to tell him that it’s a stupid question. Why would you need to enjoy food? It’s work. You feel accomplished after finding the right words for a dish’s unique flavor, feel determined when you comb through the items on a menu. You feel delighted when you find something wrong with it.

But you …

“No,” you realize. “I … don’t.”

“I see. Well, I’m not one to tell you how to think,” Sanji says, “but as a cook, I believe that food’s one of the pleasures and privileges of being alive. As a critic, why deny yourself of its full potential?”

“I … I don’t know,” you whisper.

And the thought occurs to you, like a bottle that had been floating out at sea for years finally washing ashore, that you hate what your life has become.

“I don’t know.”

You can’t help it. You let out a loud sob, your head hanging down and bumping against Sanji’s arm. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in a tight hug.

It’s the first hug you’ve had in a very, very long time.

“I’m so sick of this,” you croak, face hot with shame and humiliation. “I’ll never be good enough for them. Ever.”

“They don’t deserve you.”

“But they’re my family.”

He rests his chin on your head. “A family who hurts you this much isn’t much of a family at all,” he murmurs.

His words are like a hot knife to the throat. What follows is cold, awful, bitter relief.

You force your eyes shut. Your arms tighten desperately around him, and you curl up, a pathetic excuse of a person in a crumpled heap on a dirty dock.

So this is you, you think. A purposeless silver spoon, miserable and starved for affection, clinging to a complete stranger outside the best restaurant in the East Blue.

It feels better to lay everything bare, actually.

“I can’t go back,” you tell him hoarsely.

“We won’t let anything get out.”

“The staff won’t, but you can’t do anything about the customers.” Reluctantly, you pull away, taking a deep breath and wiping your eyes. Clarity comes with it, hard and heavy. “But you know what? I don’t care anymore. I quit.”

“Quit?”

“Yeah.”

Reaching up, you close your hand around the small family crest resting just below your collarbone. You hesitate for just a moment, then tug sharply, and the thin chain around your neck snaps. Beads of gold glint in the sunlight as you look at it.

Yeah. Fuck it.

Winding your arm up, you fling the necklace as far as you can into the dark sea. It barely makes a splash as it hits the surface and disappears from sight.

“Good throw,” Sanji compliments.

“Thank you.”

He grins at you crookedly, and you finally return it, the last of your tears squeezing out from the motion and dripping down your cheeks.

Gentle fingers touch your chin. You let Sanji turn your face towards him, and the corner of his mouth tilts up as he takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes the rest of the wetness from your cheeks and nose.

“There,” he says once he’s finished. “Now I can see your pretty face better.”

(You wonder how the world ever produced someone so kind.)

“I’m sorry, Sanji,” you say, “for being such an ass to you earlier.”

“Please don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure to serve you.”

“No, really. I grabbed you. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I feel awful about it.”

“I really didn’t –”

“Please,” you plead.

Sanji bites his lip, holding your gaze for a moment, then sighs. “All right. If it’ll make you feel better, I accept your apology,” he acquiesces. His expression softens. “And if you really have nowhere to go,” he offers more quietly, “the Baratie will gladly welcome you.”

Your lungs feel a bit emptier than usual.

“Thank you,” you somehow manage to say. “I’ll consider your offer.”

Your sudden formality seems to amuse him. He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, consider it? Anything I can do to sweeten the deal?”

His voice dips at the end, a sort of low and raspy thing, and you learn that it is much, much worse than being winked at.

You swallow and turn your head away. “T-Tell me the rest of the ingredients for your rice pudding,” you mutter.

“Join the Baratie and I’ll show you how to make it.”

“What? You’re turning it around on me.”

Sanji merely laughs in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Despite your embarrassment, you eventually find yourself chuckling along, and the sounds bloom together, so different yet so complementary. It’s nice, laughing with someone. You enjoy it.

Perhaps this is what food is supposed to bring, you think, this same, small, strange moment of peace and satisfaction.

You hope so.

[kitorin]

dear stranger.

in which, itoshi rin is terrible at keeping promises.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, hurt no comfort (just not from rin himself), childhood friends, unrequited feelings (implied), reader is a year older than rin, a bit of isagi x reader at the end, all word vomit it's past 1 am cut me some slack

a/n. kinda short since my recent fics were so long and i need a break (i have more planned anyways)

For as long as you can remember, Itoshi Rin has always been there.

You were two peas in a pod; inseparable, possessing a bond that no one could ever replicate. You've known each other since birth, and your mothers had been best friends even before you were born.

All four seasons and all year long, you were together. Winter was composed of snow fights, snoozing inside of a kotatsu, with a cup of hot chocolate. Gasping while pointing at the gorgeous cherry blossoms blooming in the spring, eagerly trying to catch the petals dancing with the wind. Splashing and kicking up water at the beach with each other, enjoying refreshing watermelon as you both bask within the warmth of the sunlight. Admiring the crimsons, saffron and golds of Autumn, giggling at the satisfying crunch of leaves lying on the pavement.

Playdates or sleepovers, either way you were both over the moon. Screaming with joy and playing together all day, later scheming to stay up all night to whisper each other every secret (all while making sure Sae sleeps undisturbed), only to pass out an hour or two later.

He's the reason why your childhood was so warm, overflowing with happy memories, the mere thought of him engulfing with you warmth.

You didn't go to the same preschools and daycares, yet you were still each other's bestfriend, and it was going to stay that way forever, if you did start primary a bit earlier than him.

"Mama what do you mean Rin won't come to school?!" The weather perfectly suited your mood, rain hammering against the roof and windows. Five year old you pouted, refusing to believe what you and his mother just announced. In protest you slammed the table, standing up.

"y/n, calm down. Rin's still going to primary as well. Just not at your school." Your mum orders you to sit down, and you obey reluctantly, as she continues throwing ingredients into the hot pot.

"But why?" A disappointed whine leaves your lips. "I want to learn more with Rinnie."

"It's okay." Rin's mother pats your hair, moving it out of your face to prevent it getting into your food. "You'll still be best friends, your mother and I didn't go to the same one either. We even grew up in different towns."

"But I want Rin at my school." Your mum sighs at how stubborn you were being.

"y/n I'll still be your bestfriend, I always will no matter what."

"But what if you find someone else." Your voice begins breaking, and your mother panics as she senses a mental breakdown, noticing early tears beginning to accumulate on your lash line.

Rin holds out his pinky. "I promise! We'll be together until we grow-, no, for the rest of our lives."

You intertwine his pinky with yours, it's so warm and soft, and his dedication makes you grin. "Promise! You're not allowed to break it."

"I swear on my life! You're not allowed to either." Both of you break out into a giggle, which earns a proud 'awwww' from your mothers, with hints of relief subtlety thanking Rin for preventing a mental breakdown from you.

That lunch had to be one of your favourites, Rin and his puppy eyes were adorable, even if his 'promise' lacked honesty and truth.

"Rin." No answer.

"Riiiin." Still no answer.

"Itoshiiii?"

He finally responds. "What?"

"Get off your phone. Talk to me." You frown, wondering what was so interesting that he'd avoid talking to you entirely, despite coming over to your house. So far all he did was remain seated in your chair, eyes focused onto the screen.

"No. It's important. 't's for an upcoming game." He doesn't even look away from his phone.

"Is it stressful? Do you want to talk about i-?"

"Shush."

You don't bother pushing the conversation, if he'd choose it over you it must've been a significant match. You spend the rest of your time reading a book, occasionally glancing at Rin.

Nothing happened.

"So, how's Rin?" Your mother asks before you sleep, doing one last check before heading to her room.

"He's good, really busy with soccer."

"You've been saying that all year. Is soccer all you talk about? What about school? Are his grades alright? How's he adapting to middle school?"

You open your mouth to answer, only to come to a horrible conclusion. You don't know. Rin's the boy you've spent over a decade with, the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

Yet you can't say anything about him, aside for his dedication to soccer, which is something anyone could tell about him.

"Oh yeah! He gets along really well with his teammates, he's doing well." Before your mum suspects anything, you hastily lie, something that's not unrealistic nor concerning enough for your mother to feel the need to check. You force a yawn, hoping your mum stops asking and goes to sleep soon.

Your strategies work, as she quickly wishes you good night, leaving your room. Now you're free to start worrying.

'You've been saying that all year' now that you're finally taking it into consideration, she's right.

Because there's quite literally nothing else to tell her.

You're trying to count, trying to count how many hangouts resulted in him being glued to his phone, only stopping when your parents announce dinner.

Suddenly your lip's quivering, and anxiety blurs your vision as you feel tears gathering in your eyes.

It's still unknown to you why it's taken you forever to notice, but it's like a truck driving into you; heavy and brutal. Now that you've thought about it, you haven't properly hung out in forever, all he does is do something soccer related.

You understand having a passion. Not his cold treatment towards you, the one that was supposed to be his bestfriend.

It's just temporary, a middle school team can't even compare or come close. Rin's current behaviour was merely an attempt to adjust to middle school life, give it a year or two then you'll go back to laughing all day and building sandcastles.

"Seriously? She did that?" Rin's mum almost yells, shocked at the events recounted by your mother.

"Shhhh. Rin's sleeping."

"Poor thing... must be tired from training all the time."

You walk into the conversation halfway, blanket in hand, making your way to Rin's resting figure on the bean bag.

Gosh, he looks stunning.

His defined jaw, long eyelashes adorning his face, his bangs which rested right above his eyes, everything about him looked perfect, even if he was sleep. Even his lips look kissable in this state. You ignore that thought and carry on with what you were doing.

You're gentle and careful, ensuring you don't move the bean bag and draping your blanket over him. There's concern clouding your heart, the other day only his mum came over, apparently he had stayed home to sleep all day. You prayed his sleep schedule was okay, as you went to join your mum.

"C'mon eat more." Rin's mum smiles, she completely contrasts Rin, warm and welcoming. "Thank you for always being so nice to him. You're only a year old yet you're so much more mature. He's really lucky to have you."

If only Rin thought that. If only this 'friendship' continued because of him, instead of the close friendship between your mothers.

Your attempts to figure out what happened were fruitless, almost instantly being dismissed.

If only soccer didn't take over his life, no, if only you had stuck together during your education.

You feel so foolish, the overwhelming guilt strangling you won't go away, not even both of your mothers believe you're still bestfriends, little do they know Rin doesn't see you that way anymore. You're now essentially just strangers now,

If only he kept that stupid pinky promise.

"So Rin was that kind of person." Yoichi hums, still staring at the picture that was hidden in your desk. It's the two of you during the peak of what was supposed to be an eternal friendship, where you had an arm tightly wrapped around him. Even over a decade later you see it as a way to rub salt into the wound.

"Yeah." It wasn't easy but you ended up explaining you and Rin to your boyfriend, Yoichi. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Merely talking about him replicates the pain of that night, when you realized how truly meaningless you are to him.

"Hey." He's quick to notice your discomfort, wrapping his arms around you, lovingly patting your back. "It's okay." He whispers in your ear.

"It's not your fault."

That's what made you lose it, a choked cry and tears now streaming down your cheeks.

All this time you've been questioning if you were ever worth loving, all because someone who claimed to stay by your side forever disappeared so easily.

"It's okay, everything's okay." He continues to repeat. "I'm right here, okay? Let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."

You cling onto him, like a child. It was almost embarrassing to behave this way, weeping over someone who's probably forgotten you by now.

"'m sorry- I shouldn't be upse-"

"No. Don't treat yourself like that." Yoichi refuses to listen to anything negative about you, and that includes anything self deprecating. He carries you to your bed, placing you down gently, and joining you. Yoichi peppers you with light kisses, warmth ghosting over your face.

And he's right. You had every right to be hurt to this day. He was your bestfriend, your other half, and Rin himself took that all away from you heartlessly. The least he could've done was at least express that he wanted nothing to do with you.

"I promise you, I'm going to destroy him during our next game. I don't care if we're on the same team, I'm scoring more goals than him no matter what. No one deserves to treat you like that." Yoichi goes for a deeper kiss this time, rough, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. "Don't even think about saying you weren't good enough for Rin. You're perfect." Even after pouring your heart out and bawling because of it, you can't help but smile.

You're finally coming to terms with it, that the Rin who you'd play tag with along the graceful shores of Kamakura, was now a mere stranger to you, one that you'll hold dear to your heart.

tagging. @kiyumiya

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[rougepancake]

Masquerade

Ft. Dottore x F!Reader

Phantom of the opera au

Warnings: Slight Yan!Dottore??? Manipulation, stalking, taking advantage of someone who’s emotionally unstable???Slight violence, kinda ooc (I’m not 100% sure). Dottore is deadass so starved, I couldn’t help myself.

Summary: You’re invited to a masquerade ball to celebrate the disappearance of the opera ghost, but it quickly goes wrong after he shows his face and makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

“NO MORE GHOST!” A man with a jester mask cheered out, wrapping his arm around a nearby woman and waving his glass of wine in the air.

“HERE’S A HEALTH!” A woman with a leopard mask smiled, joining the man and raising her glass high.

“HERE’S A TOAST!” The opera house owners laughed, drunkenly wrapping their arms around each other.

“TO A PROSPEROUS YEAR!” You stepped forward, raising your glass with a large smile. For the first time in a while, you felt free. The opera ghost had finally disappeared, and his days of tormenting the actors were over.

Everyone around you continued to join in on your toast, cheering and laughing as the orchestra played in the corner. It was a beautiful sight, seeing everyone celebrate together over something so simple.

Then again, the ghost had caused everyone a lot of trouble during your time here.

Your fiancé grabbed your hand, smiling at you as you set your glass down. He was asking you to a dance, and you just couldn’t turn down that gorgeous smile of his.

“Diluc, I didn’t think you’d come.” You returned his smile, allowing him to take you out onto the dance floor with the other couples, who were still singing cheerfully.

“Oh? What makes you say that my dear?” He teased, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Well, given that you don’t typically show interest in parties, I guess I’m just surprised that you arrived.” He spun you around, drawing a laugh from you.

“Now now y/n, don’t be so mean.” He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss atop your forehead.

The two of you danced together, singing along with the group around you. It was the most fun you’d had since you’d come to work at the opera house. Everyone was so happy, dancing and drinking their woes away as they partied.

It was a moment that you wished would last forever.

But all good things must come to an end.

One of the noblewomen let out a bloodcurdling scream, pointing at the pyrotechnics on the stairs with a horrified expression. Everyone let out a scream of their own as they rushed away from the flames, the mood in the room changing from joy to terror.

Diluc pulled out his sword, pushing you behind him and yelling at you to get to high ground. You nodded and made a run for the stairs, throwing your mask to the side as it hindered your sight.

As you ran, you heard the booming voice of the Phantom, telling the owners that he had written them an opera. His voice rang throughout the halls, a haunting sound that had followed you your entire life.

You nearly kicked down the door to the roof of the opera house, desperate to escape from the man you had yet to see. His existence was nothing but a curse to you, causing you many sleepless nights.

“Well hello there, y/n.” The sound of his voice sent shivers up your spine. You spun around, looking for him, looking for the mask that you had seen countless times.

The wind howled, whipping your dress around violently as you prayed for Diluc to arrive soon.

“It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen each other last, hmm?” You knew you weren’t imagining his voice, you were sure. The door to the opera house was opened, your red headed fiancé running up to you with a smile.

“I heard him.” You cried into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “H-He’s here for me.”

Diluc huffed, holding you close to him out of fear that the phantom would make another appearance. “I’m not going to let him take yo-“

Your fiancé fell to the ground, limp and seemingly lifeless. You screamed, falling to your knees to hold him in your arms.

“Relax y/n darling.” The phantom revealed himself at last, wearing a sinister smile under his mask. “Killing people isn’t in my nature. It’s a tranquillizing dart that I made myself. Your cute little fiancé will be fine.”

“What do you want?!” You spat, refusing to look up at him. You weren’t about to give him that pleasure after all he’d done to you.

“Oh my sweet y/n…” He bent down, placing two gentle fingers underneath your chin before forcing you to look up at him. “I want you.”

“I’d rather die then go with a monster like you! You- You stupid opera ghost!” You cursed, holding Diluc closer to you.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t kill you.” He sighed, shaking his head impatiently. “Quit this game of yours. You know you want to run away with me.”

“I do not!” You shouted. “I would rather you kill me than torment me in such a way!”

“Oh come now Y/n.” He knelt down to grab your chin, forcing you to look into his mask. “Don’t make me hurt you.” He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his hand now resting on your lover’s shoulder.

“Don’t make me hurt him either.” He threatened, smirking as your eyes widened in horror.

“F-Fine!” You conceded, looking away in defeat. “Just don’t hurt Diluc. Please..”

“Of course not darling, now get up, it’s quite the walk to my abode under the opera house.”

He reached out a hand, offering to help you get up, but you declined. You were going to go with him, but you were going to resist him in as many ways as possible.

You knew he wouldn’t like that, but it was your only option if you wanted to return the favor.

He dragged you through the many tunnels of his, each one looking the same as the last. It was insane to think that he lived down here, regularly roaming these tunnels and never getting lost.

It was actually quite interesting to you, since you knew nothing about him other than his love for you. You didn’t even know his name, just that he was the ‘opera ghost’. It made you curious, though, making you wonder about what he hid under that mask of his.

“We’re here…”

You were now standing in an underground laboratory, test tubes and such scattered everywhere. The room was dark, dimly lit with candles that could be found in the most random of places. It instilled fear in you, the mere sight of such a dark lab making you wonder if you were going to make it out of this alive.

“Now, follow me. I’ve got a room prepared for you…” He was leading you again, his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. For someone so devious, he sure did handle you with care.

“And if you need anything, just call out my name, Dottore.” He smirked, bowing sarcastically as you looked around your new bedroom.

You had tuned him out, now overcome with despair. What would Diluc think? Would he come looking for you? You hoped so.

You sat on the bed, staring blankly at the floor. The room was so nicely prepared, a beautiful setup fitting for a beautiful woman. You scoffed in disgust at the idea.

A yawn passed through your lips, your exhaustion finally sinking in. You groaned, plopping down onto the cushy bed aimlessly.

“Y/n, love.” Dottore spoke, crawling onto the bed slowly. “May I indulge?” He asked so nicely, almost as if he wasn’t a sociopathic creep who had stalked you for so long.

“No.” You bluntly stated, scooting away from him.

“Please Y/n. I need you.” He began to feel up your legs, his cold gloves sending shivers throughout you. “I’ve waited for so long.”

“You’ve already taken me away from everything I could ever want, so what makes you think I’ll stoop as low as this?” You kicked him away, giving him a deadly glare.

“You know what? Whatever. I don’t care anymore and I’m so tired of fighting your presence.” You laid back down, arms spread and a knee propped up. “Just get this over with and leave… please.”

Dottore smirked as he crawled on top of you, his mask brushing against your face.

“Take it off.” He whispered.

“W-what??” You blushed, assuming he was talking about your dress. He gently grabbed your hand and brought it up to his mask, silently begging you to take it off.

When you did, you were met with a gorgeous face, one marked with large, deep scars that would surely scare others away.

His red eyes stared into your soul, saying nothing as you sat in silence. Slowly, your fingers traced the scar on his cheek, completely mesmerized by the beauty of it.

You felt him stiffen, his eyes widening in surprise. He had nothing to say, so he just allowed you to feel the deep scar.

“What happened?” You asked softly, your eyes meeting his.

“Let’s not.” His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping its movement along his cheek. He was so gentle with you that it made your head spin. His behavior contradicted his appearance.

“You seem so sweet Dottore. Why did you pick me?” You whispered out, giving him a sad smile.

“I am one of many personalities.” He returned your whisper, now hiding his face in your neck. “This one is just less of a monster than the rest.”

“Oh.”

“I know it sounds wild, but I want nothing more than love.” He was incredibly vulnerable, and it made you nervous. “Please, can I love you?”

His words sent a thick, pink blush across your cheeks, your heart melting. Dottore began to kiss up your neck, slowly trailing up to your chin as he awaited your answer.

For being so impatient earlier, he seemed more than willing to wait for you now.

“F-Fine.” You muttered.

“Fine isn’t enough, love. I need to hear more from you.” His breath was warm in your ear, sending goosebumps trailing along your skin. “I need you to tell me exactly what I’m allowed to do.”

“Dottore…” You sighed, closing your eyes as you looked away. It was so embarrassing to be in such a situation with the man who made your life so miserable, especially since you were engaged to Diluc, who loved you so. “I’m giving you permission…” you trailed off, mumbling the rest.

“Speak up, Y/n darling.”

“I-I’m giving you permission to u-use me…” You blushed even harder, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his look of surprise, his eyes burning holes into your skin.

“Then use you I shall…”

And Dottore dove into your lips like his life depended on it, devouring you as if he was going to die the next day. It was a feeling unlike any other, so foreign yet so powerful. It took control of you, washing away your fears and any morals you had left as you leaned into his kisses, mouth moving in sync with his.

The world seemed to stop moving around you, time slowing down for such a beautiful moment to last forever.

His hands roamed your body, his touch anxious, yet gentle as ever. You swore his touch was electrifying, and you’d never be able to get enough of it.

God, he was so gentle. He treated you as if you were a freshly picked flower, a beautiful, delicate rose that had been handpicked by Dottore himself. He looked at you as if you were a goddess, worthy of worship and so much more.

“I’m going to make a mess of you.” He promised, watching you squirm with a smirk.

It’s such a wonderful thing that Dottore is a man of his word.

[strafepanzer]

tiny tiny drabble under the cut. implications of suicidal thoughts, and mentions of suguru and his death.

You wonder if Satoru’s eyes are rimmed red beneath those glasses, but you’re too choked up to ask.

Instead, you place your hand on his, wrap your fingers around his own where they clutch at his seat. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but he doesn’t take his hand away either, just sits. Sits and stares.

The view is beautiful— the sun about to set for the day, painting the sky in oranges and pinks and blues— the wind lightly tousling his hair, giving what’s left of the suns rays the chance to dance through those white locks. But you don’t stare; you can’t.

Your eyes glass up again, and you blink away tears. The ache in your chest burns the more you think, the more you remember why you’re up here, why he’s here with you.

“What were you gonna do up here?” His voice is cool, not quite cold, but icy enough to make your heart sink.

Guilt has you retracting your hand, tucking it between your thighs, trying to suppress a shiver. “Nothing. I was just… nothing.” You land on, eyes finding your shoes.

Satoru stands, shoves his hands in his pockets, refuses to look at you. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” He muses, moreso to himself as he approaches the edge of the roof with long, slow strides. His hair whips as he bends over the railing. His lips move but you can’t hear what he says.

Were you going to jump? The though has you scared, has you clenching your jaw and sniffling, wiping tears on the sleeve of your sweater.

It’s selfish of you to even think it, to even entertain the notion. You can’t do it. You can’t leave Satoru after he went through the painstaking ordeal of saving you from Kenjaku, after he spent all of his time convincing the higher ups that you’re friend not foe. After vouching for you.

But he’s not a replacement for Suguru.

And neither are you.

“We’ve been through this,” he’s saying, voice carrying over the wind, arms splayed melodramatically. “He was never Suguru! I thought you understood that?”

His audacity has you prickling. “I do! Does that not make it worse?” You yell back, your tears flowing again. Anger and sadness and remorse. “I did all of those bad things! I was a pawn! Nothing else!”

“He would never have wanted you to do that—“

“I know!”

“So think! Why would he want you to join him in the afterlife?”

You hiss in a breath of air, taken aback. He stands before you, bent at the waist to look at you nose to nose.

“It might be cruel, but it’s right.” He says coldly.

Your heart stutters and you bite your bottom lip so hard you taste copper. He stands up straight, folds his arms, waiting.

Always waiting. Always two steps ahead.

It was stupid to think he’d even let you get near the ledge.

“You’re just upset because you can’t do it. You can’t join him where he is. Gojo Satoru can’t die.” You choke out.

He thinks on your words, processes them slowly before crouching at your feet, taking off his glasses. “I don’t want to die, and neither do you.” He says, a hand on your knee, face neutral, those ethereal eyes of his a shifting cerulean. “We have so much life left, and the real Suguru would want us to live. All he wanted… was for us to live.”

You throw yourself at him and he catches you, falling back on his ass and cradling you in his arms. “I don’t feel… like I’m living.”

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna feel like this.”

“I know.” He repeats, smoothing your hair with a hand. “I know.”

You stay like that for an eternity, holding each other close, unwilling to let go. Minds race and tears fall, soaking his shirt, while your fingers grip onto him for dear life.

When you finally calm yourself and look up at him, Satoru’s eyes are red around the edges.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

Tijuana sunrise | kinktober 2024 | day ix.: “songkran drought”

pairing: chuck billy x lars ulrich

prompt: knifeplay

word count: 4171

song: “abuse me” by silverchair

It had been three weeks since the rain had begun to filter in, even with a few breaks in between, and I knew that the spigot would have to be switched off at some point to beget those Diablo winds once more. But I had met so many people on the street who would complain to me about it, and it felt so typical to boot. If anything, I was in love with all of this, such that a part of me wanted to go out to the bay waters on Mercy, my boat, especially when I saw the clouds collecting around the horizon on the ocean. 

There was something I absolutely loved about going out to the waters just prior to a rainstorm. To feel the spray on my face and the rush of the waves. To be like a sailor for a bit. To feel the rush of a danger of sorts. I liked the danger and the thrill of heading out there right as the slack waters picked up again so I could make a triumphant return to land of sorts.

Some days were better than others to have Sting with me, but it was the feeling of water on me that beckoned a taste of Mercy.

I had her parked by the edge of the dock, nestled in between a couple of schooners and a sailboat with big yellow sails, this little river boat of heavy polished wood built from back around the time of World War One with a little ramshackle roof and view out to the water right around the big wooden steering wheel, and enough room for me, a miniature fridge up against the starboard wall of the boat, and someone else to climb aboard with me. But it was just me out on that boat right before the first band of rain was supposed to come in, and I made my way out there onto the waters wrapped in my poncho, my wide-brimmed hat, and some slim black leather gloves that went up to my elbows.

The water, though a little choppy from the next incoming band of rain on the horizon, seemed to buoy the boat perfectly, and I roamed about the harbor as if I was about to set sail for Hawai’i.

The dream, however, was to have a party boat.

Maybe I was a little nuts but on most days like this, I wanted to retread upon a memory where I had done this before.

It was a slightly chilly afternoon, and I had just met Lars after quite some time: I hadn’t seen him in almost two years, not since the accident that killed Cliff and Metallica had to persist with their tour as well as a new album. The last I had heard, he was looking at the ‘burbs and married life, he had gotten engaged some couple of months before to a girl whom he had met while on tour. James and Kirk had thrown him a stag party already, and he had had one with their new bassist Jason, but I wanted to treat him to something else as well. Something that included Mercy and a few bottles of spiced rum as well.

I spotted him on the dock with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black windbreaker and his long, smooth hair flowing behind his head and shoulders in a little twirl with the incoming winds. He showed me a smile full of pearly whites, and I returned the favor to him with a big old bear hug.

“Oh, shit, dude!” Lars squeaked out from inside my arms. He glimpsed up at me with a slight twinkle in those minty green eyes of his.

“Sorry—I just haven’t seen you in some time,” I told him with a gentle pat on his back with both hands, and then I let him hold back a bit.

“What do you have in your pocket?” he asked me, and he fondled my pockets with both hands.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” I confessed as I reached into my pockets and showed him the bottles of spiced rum, one for each of us. He raised his eyebrows and the twinkle returned to his eyes.

“Oh, dear.” He glanced up at me again, like a little boy ready to go on a roller coaster ride down at Santa Cruz. “Let us board the boat and I shall show you what’s tucked away in my pocket.”

“Gladly! Let me get onboard and we can get this party started.”

I rounded him towards the bow of the boat so I could climb aboard. With the bottles tucked back into my pockets again, I unlocked the hard cover which protected the interior of the boat, and I pushed it open to reveal the back, the seats, the miniature fridge, and the smooth expanse of floor. I climbed inside and pushed open the little door by the big wooden wheel to let him in. Gingerly, Lars climbed aboard, one tennis shoe-clad foot in first, followed by the other.

“This is an interesting little vessel you have here, Chuck,” he told me.

“It’s an older boat that I bought for cheap-o just to get me into a groove before I go for the party boat,” I explained to him in a single breath.

“How much older are we talking?”

“There’s a plaque right here—” I gestured to the space right behind the wheel, where he could see a small silver plaque about the size of his hand.

“‘Built in 1917,’” he read aloud, and then he showed me a playful little smile. “So, this is an antique, is what it is,” he declared, and I shrugged my shoulders a bit.

“Yeah, I guess you could say she is,” I confessed. “Built seventy-one years ago but she doesn’t miss a beat and doesn’t feel that old, either.” I took out our bottles of spiced rum, to which I handed him the one in my right pocket. I then stuck the ignition key in, and Mercy roared to life.

“Shall I take care of the rope?” Lars offered me, and he set the bottle down on the little shelf right next to him.

“Please, if you can,” I replied, and he climbed back up onto the dashboard part for the rope at the bow. Since he had one knee on the dash and his other foot didn’t even touch the floor next to me, I set one hand on his ass to hold him in place, which brought a giggle out of him. And yet he managed to take the rope off the stand on the dock, and I led him back down onto the floor of the boat.

I shifted us into reverse, and we proceeded back into the harbor waters. The wind was beginning to pick up but neither of us minded in the very least.

“Don’t tell my fiancée this, but—I am absolutely drinking early today,” he informed me as he unscrewed the cap from the bottle.

“We’re out in the water, Lars—the rules of the land need not apply out here.” I put us back into forwards, and we proceeded out to the bay itself, on our way to Treasure Island and perhaps Alcatraz. “By the way, when do you and her get married?”

“We get hitched this Christmas,” he said with a wag of his finger at me. “Happy birthday to me, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right! Day after Christmas. I should get you something.”

“You are invited, after all,” he told me after taking a big swig. “We should take this thing and go down to Santa Cruz, too.”

“And run the risk of being thrown overboard? No thanks.”

“Be like the next Mary Celeste and have this baby go back to the harbor without us,” he chuckled, and he took another swig from the bottle. Over the salt of the bay waters, I caught a whiff of the spices, and I thought of autumn. Only a month away, and I could feel it in the air around us, and his drinking from that bottle only added to the feeling. No way we could go down the coastline on a day like this, even if I was daring enough. He took another swig and peered out from below the roof to the gray sky heavy with rain overhead. The waters were in no way choppy, but I still felt as though I was playing with fire being out there.

“Chuck, let me ask you something,” he started again with a clearing of his throat, and I could smell the cardamom, anise, and cloves on his breath all the while, “you like to go out on your boat when it’s about to rain. Why?”

“I guess I’m actually a fish underneath?” I suggested, to which I shrugged at that. “I’m secretly a merman among other things.”

“A merman and a sea shanty, as well. And you’re cooped up in a recording studio all day with those four other fellas, too. You all should be hanging with us more. Hanging with us and having a few drinkies like this.”

“Kind of hard to when you guys are out touring ad nauseam, though,” I pointed out as I maneuvered us towards Treasure Island. “We’re just getting our shit together, the five of us. Well, trying to, anyways.”

The water sloshed around the wooden bow of the boat, which made this persistent knocking sound like I was tugging on a rope sling over a few gears of a machine. He sipped on the rum a bit more, and then he set the bottle down on the shelf next to him. He reached into his pocket for something, and it was right then I remembered he never did tell me what he had in his pocket. He took out this long thin thing sheathed in pale brown leather, and then he took off the sheath part. Underneath was what looked to be a chef’s knife, albeit with a long shiny silver blade about as wide as my hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing, man?” I demanded as I tugged on the brake lever and dropped the anchor. We jolted to a stop, and he nearly lost his balance. I reached past him to catch the bottle of rum before it fell on the floor and I would have to clean up two messes. I clutched at the bottle and backed up to the open seat area, towards the fridge.

“You said that the rules of the land need not apply out here,” he recalled. “Did you not?”

“I did, yes,” I said with my heart pounding out of time inside my chest. “That doesn’t mean you can kill me, though!”

“I am not going to kill you,” he promised me with a wave of the knife. “I just wanna… try something new.”

“What do you mean?”

He clutched at the handle of the knife with both hands, and he took his seat right across from the fridge, right behind the wheel. I lingered across from him with one hand up on the edge of the roof to steady myself. The waters tucked and bowed around us, and yet Mercy managed to stay stable against the incoming tides. I had no idea how much longer we had for slack water, but at the same time, I had a strange curiosity as to where Lars was going with this.

“I discovered this… inclination, let’s call it, about three years ago. Cliff was still alive and yet he seemed to be drifting away from me. A great part of me almost felt as though I was being pushed out of the band, even though I was the one who brought us all together. I walked up to him one day and we started talking. He was overjoyed by the fact that I had reached out to him when I did because he thought I was looking to greener pastures. Next thing I know, we’re going out for drinks that evening. Coolers were flowing. We’re both getting high as clouds on some really, really good hashish. We were alone in the back of a bar, and then as I’m fingering my scar here—” He gently massaged the little oval scar over his left eye. “—he whips out his Swiss Army knife and runs the face of the blade of the main part against the side of my throat. He never cut me, but it surprised me. I was like, ‘whoa, what the fuck, dude?’ And we locked eyes…” His voice trailed off, and he had this faraway look to his eyes as well. I tilted my head to the side for a better look at him. This whole entire time, I thought James had been hit hard by Cliff’s death, but I wondered who had been talking to Lars this whole time.

“The next thing I know, he and I are dancing around the Swiss Army knife,” he continued in a soft voice. “I am enjoying it. I am loving every part of it.” He showed me the chef’s knife rested upon his knee, which had the shiniest blade I had ever seen on a knife before. I swore that I could see my own reflection in there if I looked hard enough into the metal.

The sea breeze made his hair twirl about before his head and right across his green eyes: for a moment, he actually looked like a Viking. He was ancient, and in the exact same way that Alex seemed ancient. The knife seemed to play a role in that, as well, like he was ready to plunder the harbor behind us from the deck of the boat.

“There is something about… living on the edge,” I told him. “I think that’s why I like going out here when slack water is about to… to… you know.” I shrugged one shoulder at him.

“Not be slack anymore?” he asked me, and he showed me a little grin.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I said with another partial shrug, and I couldn’t resist showing him a smile in return. He held the base of the knife handle upon his kneecap, and the blade pointed outward. I could feel the danger there, the fact that we were out on the water and the boat swayed back and forth with the natural movement of the water, the way that he looked on at me with a twinkle in his eye as if he wanted to share a deep dark secret with me.

“Do you think you’d be down for it?” he then asked me.

“What, playing with knives? Out here? On sloshy waters?”

“We don’t necessarily have to,” he pointed out, and he twirled the knife about in his hand as if it was a simple wooden baton. He then held it by the handle and showed me the sharp edge of the blade. Playing with fire out on the water.

“So how did you do it with him the first time around?” I asked him in a low voice. “Like… how did you do it that first night?”

“Well, for starters…” He stood to his feet, and he steadied himself with nothing more than the sheer strength of his legs against the waves. “We stood across from one another almost exactly like this.” He gestured between the two of us, which made my heart skip a few beats. “I would say the sole difference is there was a fire roaring between the two of us. It was also nighttime rather than the middle of the day like with us. We had had quite a bit of pot, too, but my memory is particularly vivid, however. Cliff pointed the blade of the knife at me, and he held it over the tips of the flames so the metal rather hot.”

“Except here, we’re surrounded by water,” I pointed out.

“Exactly! So, I am unsure as to how we could do this. He heated up the knife, like he tempered it, and then he ran it very close to the skin on my legs, so I could feel the heat from the metal as well as the way the edge grated against the hair on my legs.”

“You could dip the blade into the water and make it cold,” I suggested. “Do it the other way around.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in his head, and he clambered over to the stern of the boat.

“Need some help, buddy?” I offered him, and he stooped over the railing there at the stern. I saw him stick the blade of the knife down into the waters.

“How long do you think I can do this?” he grunted out.

“How long did Cliff do it with the flames?”

“I think not even a minute. Again, we were high so our two minutes felt like two thousand years.”

“Try swishing it around in the water,” I suggested, and I sidled my way over to the seats just to tease him a little more. He splashed the blade around in the waters, and then he lifted himself up from the railing; with his free hand, he gave his stomach a little massage. Some softness from the palm of the hand and the water before he brought on the hardness of the metal and the cold. Another gust of a sea breeze welled up behind me, through the gap between the bow of the boat and the overhead roof, and I could feel the rain upon us.

The feeling of danger around us, the fact that Lars could have thrust that knife at me when I pulled the lever and dropped the anchor, or the fact that he could have fallen overboard: it all made my heart pound and my slightly snug jeans tighten up even more from the feeling. It also helped that I had had a full view of him from behind as well, with his ass up in the air and one foot pulled up behind him as if he was doing a pirouette; the metal bar under his soft belly and his long smooth hair dangled down around his head like a silken curtain towards the waves.

I was thinking a lot of things, especially when he turned around to face me with the knife pointed towards me. For a second, I thought he had lost his balance again, but he slid into the seat right next to me, and he pressed the blade of the knife against my jeans.

“Take them off,” he whispered to me. And as I did, he popped a piece of minty gum into his mouth; my jeans dropped down to my feet, and I sat back down again next to him, that time with my knee right up against him. 

He held the blade of the knife right next to my shin, and the shock that hit my skin right then. The iciness of the metal on me, and the fact that the blade was literally right there, so close to slicing me open especially if the boat swayed too hard on the waves. The slack water was about to give way at any moment to the incoming rain, after all.

Slowly, he pulled the knife up the side of my leg to my knee, and from the cold in the wake of the edge of the blade, it was hard to tell if he cut me at all.

I let out a low whistle and clutched onto the edges of the seat as I could feel the boat rocking a bit more. Slack water was giving way to the tide.

“Swish,” he breathed into my ear, and he held the knife up to his mouth. His tongue slithered out onto the blade, and for a second, I believed that he was going to slice through his own tongue. I held still as he slid the knife back away from his mouth: I spotted the gum tucked in the very back of his mouth all the while.

“Wow,” I breathed out, and a decent-sized wave hit the bow of the boat right then. I could smell the rain in the air around us.

“This shit is getting dangerous, man,” Lars said with a rigorous chewing of his gum.

“I mean, why did you have to bring a knife on board with us, anyway?” I smirked at him.

“The thrill,” he flatly replied.

“You know, this is thrilling,” I told him. “The boat rocks about a little bit and you have to control the knife a little bit more. A part of me wants to see how it could play out on dry land, though.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “I have an idea, though. It could end badly, though, especially with the water picking up all around us. I want you to hold that thing over my dick, and I want you—to come as close to me as you can without cutting me.”

I leaned back and peeled back my shorts for him to see me in full form. Lars chewed on his gum, and he held the blade right over my dick. The edge of the blade was a hair’s breadth over me skin, even more so as he slowly slid the knife over me.

Another wave splashed up on the bow of the boat, and he held still. I swallowed and shuddered from the feeling, and I knew that the thrill of it all could either leave me with a fresh, new circumcision, or—

“Jeez-us, that was close,” he stammered, and I had no idea as to how close he had come to me with the knife. I closed my eyes as more waves hit the bow.

Lars was a drummer, and he never had a single rim shot, either.

The waves hit us, and all the while, the blade remained within a hair’s breadth of my skin. And while the blade remained within a hair’s breadth of my skin, I could feel my heart hammering away in my chest. My heart pounding, my chest heaving, the feeling I was restrained under the threat of being sliced up with a sharp knife… I was going to come, and I was going to come hard. I wanted to resist it, I wanted to stop it, but it was useless. My dick was firming up and I was breathing harder than I was not even a few minutes before, and the bastard never did touch me for a second.

Until he did.

Another wave hit the boat, and Lars brought the face of the blade down on top of my dick. The smooth, chilled metal on my hot skin drove a shock of electricity up my spine. My heart was pounding harder with the rush of it all, and more so when I felt the first drops of rain on my forehead.

The dance of hot and cold, warmth and coolness, the hard metal on my hard skin…

I leaned off to the side, up against Lars’ body, and he jerked the knife back. For a second, I thought he had cut me. I opened my eyes out of expectation that I would have a steady stream of blood on me. I was surprised to find that I had not a single nick on my skin, just a throbbing dick that began to turn red with my burgeoning erection.

Breathing hard, I gazed up to the sky and the fine drizzle beginning to fall over us. Lars rested his free hand on my forehead and stroked my skin with the pad of his thumb. The boat rocked us back and forth with the incoming tides, and I knew we would have to get going back to the harbor.

“Phew…” Lars let out a whistle and peeked around at me, and he still persisted at chewing his piece of gum with his mouth open.

“Goddamn,” I sputtered out, and I chuckled at the whole thing. And I kept on laughing as the rain picked up around us.

It was going to be hard to get us back to the harbor, especially when I had such a hard-on going. But somehow I managed to pull up the anchor and guide us back there. Lars held onto the side of the boat with his free hand, and he kept the knife out in the open, which only made me laugh to myself when I looked back at him.

And as we returned to the harbor with the rain drenching Lars and splashing against my back and my hair, all I could do to ease my erection was sing to myself.

“What do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning…”

[comicalcorvid]

The Bad Batch and Giving You Head

WARNING: NSFW | 18+ | so minors DNI!

Includes: male!reader, established relationship, lots of blowing, fingering, edging, and a bit of unsafe shoulder rides.

Everything is under the cut, I hope you enjoy this filth ;))

Hunter 

Hunter always enjoyed giving you head before he fucks you. You would be laying on the hard mattress of the Marauder’s bunk, your hips tilted up by Hunter’s arm as he takes your cock down his throat, moaning ever so softly to let the vibrations tease you further. All the while his calloused fingers were at work pumping and stretching you out, the dribbling mixture of his saliva and your pre-cum providing ample lube for his fingers to work in and out of you, prepping you for his cock. With his enhanced senses he'd pick up the fluttering beats of your heart, racing each time he’d change the pace of his bobbing; a symphony to his ears. Breathing in the sweet yet musky fragrance of your sweat and cum as you completely fall apart under him. His hair usually kept up with his bandana would be a mess, strands fallen down and in front of his face from your hands holding onto him for dear life. The stray strands would tickle your navel every time he’d take your cock completely down his throat. Coming close to your climax he’d hum softly before releasing your cock from his mouth with a wet pop. Quickly closing the gap between the two of you while rubbing his torso against yours, he’d let out a low growl and grind his girth into yours. 

“Not so fast, we finally have the night for ourselves. I don’t want you getting tired out just yet.” 

And for the rest of the night he’d pound his hips into you, listening to your gorgeous screams of pleasure. Tears prickling your eyes as you beg for him to go harder or faster, and like a good soldier he is, he follows orders.

Tech

After a quiet afternoon of maintenance on the Marauder you couldn’t help but disturb the Batch member under the guise of wanting to help fix the controls. Seeing how hyper-focussed he was to getting back to work, he knew a solution to quickly satiate you and return to fixing his beloved ship. Tech would have you seated in the pilot’s chair, his head steadily bobbing in your lap as he takes you again and again as his dominant hand went to work on your shaft and the other holding your thigh for support. Stopping every so often to tease his tongue on your balls to further extract your moans and his name shakily escaping your throat. With all his research into pleasuring you he’d also know how to completely control his gag reflex. Meaning there would be no worry in him taking you all the way hitting the back of his throat. He’d even tap your leg to encourage you to roll your hips, letting you fuck that soft mouth of his in rhythm with his sucking. As you come close you let Tech know in soft gasps and as you’re about to cum, he releases you from his mouth and jerks your cock to milk you through your climax. Gripping the handles you let out a high pitched whine as you cum into the palm of Tech’s gloved hand, trying to catch every last drop that comes out of you. 

“I hope that was satisfying for you. Excuse me, I need to go wash this glove now.”

He follows through with that and leaves you, drenched in your sweat and tuckered out in the chair. For a moment you thought he had just gone back to work while leaving you in such a state, but he’d return with a wet cloth and no gloved to help you clean up. That Tech, you gotta love him.

Wrecker

After a long mission you’d be casually undressing, removing all your armour and stripping down to your underwear when you’re suddenly thrown up into the air you feet no longer having any ground to touch. Disoriented and your head almost hitting the roof, you recognise the sound of your assailant’s boisterous giggles, turning your head to see Wrecker holding your legs close to his chest. 

“You sure saved me out there today! Thought I’d come and return the favour~” 

Wrecker quickly turns you like nothing to hook your legs over his hulking shoulders. Laughing nervously as you hadn’t even given any time to fully process what was going, but quickly he starts kissing down your stomach sending shivers up your spine. Nuzzle the outline of your cock still confined in your underwear. Then using his teeth he’d your underwear down to reveal your flaccid cock, smiling and giving it a few soft kisses to hopefully wake it up. Considering how much this man loves to eat, he’d have no qualms in taking you in his mouth and sucking you until you had nothing else to give. Giving it a few soft licks with the tip of his tongue, he’d take the head into his mouth and with a long breath, start sucking it in short bobs. You’d of course first marvel at the fact he can even carry you and suck your cock at the same time like nothing, then quickly feeling the heat of arousal build in your belly as he continued. Not even having the stability of a wall against your back, you fear you could fall but Wrecker wouldn’t let that happen. Those big, strong hands of his would keep you in place, running up the small of your back as his nose hits your pubic bone, letting out a loud groan as he hear you shakily gasp out his name. It doesn’t take very long until you’re rendered to putty in his hands, holding onto the back his head as you cum in his mouth with a howl. Making eye contact with him you see him swallow it all, wagging his eyebrows in triumph. It was enough to make you want to come again.

Echo

Before the Citadel, Echo would be so flustered at the thought of sucking anyone off or even receiving head himself. Even more so now after what happened on Skako Minor, but that was until he met you. Over time he appreciated how patient and loving you were to him, it wasn’t long before he couldn’t help but fall head over heels for you. He would be watching you take his cock like nothing, how you’d hum and moan while taking his dick in your mouth drove him crazy. With that same love for you he finally musters the courage to want to ask if he could give the same treatment back to you. You sat at on the edge of his bunk, your legs spread out wide to provide enough space for him to kneel as he stared at your cock at full mast and ready for him. Swallowing his spit at the sight, Echo would be so delicate but not be able to take you all the way, just enough for him to earn some whines and pleasured groans out of you, it gives him a much needed confidence boost as he goes faster sucking your tip while his one hand went to work stroking the rest of your shaft. As he sucked on your tip you’d give him soft appraisals, telling how well he was doing regardless whether he could take you whole or not. ‘Echo your mouth is so warm. Your tongue feels so good.’ He’d moan so loud, the soft shockwaves providing much needed vibrations. 

“Please keep going. Tell me how good I am.”

You both could spend the rest of the night like this, with Echo worshipping your cock and maybe drop down further and further until he could take you all. 

At least his knees would never get tired haha sorry that was mean. 

Crosshair

You expect this guy to give you head? The only way he’d ever consider it is if you gave him full control about it. At his pace and on his terms. And boy would he make use of that. Crosshair gave you his terms, you were to not touch a single hair on his head or give so much of a thrust, otherwise he’d leave you high and dry and sorely unsatisfied. You’d be lying on his bunk, his thin hands pinning your legs down as he messily sucked on your cock. Crosshair may be harsh but he wouldn’t allow himself giving a bad performance. Bringing one of your legs hooked over his shoulder with the other pinning your other leg down. Swirling his tongue on your tip his fingers would dig painfully into your thighs as he bobbed his head, but only going as far as halfway down your shaft lest he choke on you. He couldn’t care less how much you whined for him to go faster or touch anywhere else, he’d ignore you completely and continue to devour your cock. Your knuckles would be gripping the sheets of his bed so hard to force yourself to not even rock your hips or cradle his head. It was worse than disarming a landmine. He would pick up the pace only slightly, giving you the much needed relief and you would even thank him for it as the coil in your belly finally lit up, a climax creeping up your groin before you felt the warmth around your cock stop completely. Crosshair only giving you a dirty look dripping with spite.

“Hey don’t start that. I never said you could come now did I?”

Watching you squirm and beg under him was far better than doing it with his cock, and he wouldn’t stop until he’s edged you so bad your balls would be blue and the pillow under your head soaked in your desperate tears.

Thank you for reading!! I really hope you all enjoyed this 🫣

[ankhlesbian]

toxic yuri: shin kamen rider edition

Fandom: Shin Kamen Rider

Pairing: Ruriko/Hiromi ofc

Rating/Length: T for violence, ~1.5k words

AO3 Link: here

My gift for the toku femslash exchange ^_^

Ruriko and Hongo have a plan for taking down Hachi-Aug.

It means Ruriko will have to confront Hiromi, on her own this time.

Ruriko is always prepared.

The elevator doors opened.

The roof was nothing like the foyer the two had last met in. It was dimly lit. There was no perfectly spaced, sophisticated furniture. No rows of expensive swords. No wasps of pure gold adorning the walls. 

Perhaps the roof was more honest to who the woman on the platform was.

“Thank you, Ruri-Ruri.” The woman purred. “I do appreciate the invitation.”

She began her descent.

“Feel like returning to the Organization?”

Ruriko matched her movements, moving towards the center of the roof.

“No. I feel like a fight.”

“Oh dear.” The other woman chuckled. “That’s a shame.”

 She stopped at the bottom of the platform, not moving any closer to Ruriko.

“Up here on the roof, your bodyguard can’t pop in on his bike to save you.”

Six of the woman’s drones were arranged around her, forming a V to encompass Ruriko. The man in yellow stood behind them all.

“Doesn't it scare you? Going solo?”

“Of course I’m scared. But I’m always fully prepared. You should know, I believe in the man called Kamen Rider.”

For a brief moment, the woman’s face twisted into something ugly. Then the honey-sweet veneer was back.

“You can’t believe in people. In the end, they will betray you. That’s why we need people like me to keep them in line.” The woman gestured with one gloved hand, sweeping it over her entourage of drones.

Ruriko was silent.

The woman smiled.

“Of course, I’m sure you know that well. You are a traitor, after all.”

“I didn’t come here to talk.”

The woman cocked her head.

“Of course.” She straightened and smoothed out her kimono. “I apologize for my rudeness.”

She summoned the man in yellow to her side. Handed off her haori. 

“I would be quite the poor host if I left you wanting.”

The man in yellow knelt, holding out a sleek katana. The woman freed one arm and drew it from its sheath. The man in yellow returned to his place. The drones stepped back. A straight line, a wall, behind her, standing perfectly still.

“You aren’t like me, Ruriko. Not anymore.” Hachi-Aug said. “I’m better than you. You can’t win.”

Ruriko’s hand slid into her coat.

“I’m going to make you cry. Make you beg for your life. And after that, I’ll take your toy and make you beg for his, too.”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Hachi-Aug spun, the thin blade of her katana arcing around her in a perfect crescent as she leant backwards. It glinted as it caught the light of the moon above them. Six halves of three bullets clinked to the ground around her.

“Oh dear. You should know, guns don’t work on me.”

“They don’t need to work.”

Ruriko drew another pistol. She held one in each hand.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

The shots were swift yet careful, mindful of the civilians behind Hiromi. If any of the bullets hit their mark, they had no effect.

Hachi-Aug lunged forward. The first swing was diagonal, seamlessly cutting through the barrels of both of Ruriko’s guns. Ruriko dropped the guns the instant before the katana touched them, stumbling backwards with the wind that Hiromi’s unnaturally fast movement brought in its wake.

The second swing was aiming for Ruriko’s neck.

Hachi-Aug’s vision was blanketed in brown. She didn’t falter, carrying out the intended swing. It sliced through Ruriko’s coat, torn off and thrown into the air as a distraction. It fell to the ground gracelessly, crumpling onto itself in an ugly little pile.

Cold metal pressed against Hachi-Aug’s neck, recognizable even through the layers of fabric. A third gun.

Hachi-Aug’s katana slipped from her fingers. It fell, uncontrolled, clattering against the concrete.

“It’s over, Hiromi.”

“It’s barely begun.”

Hachi-Aug moved with speed unmatchable by a mere computational organism. Her right elbow slammed into Ruriko’s fingers with a crack, knocking the gun away. Her left foot slammed into Ruriko’s stomach, sending her flying. She slammed into the wall beside the elevator. Ruriko was left in only a black turtleneck and tight, black pants. She had more ammunition. She did not have more guns.

“That coat was disgusting. Brown isn’t your color, Ruri-Ruri. Yellow would suit you much better.”

She didn’t bother retrieving her sword. She advanced, predatory. She knelt in front of Ruriko’s battered form.

“We’re even now, “ she cooed. “Both of us without weapons.”

She grabbed Ruriko’s hair and yanked , pulling her face close. Blood dripped down Ruriko’s forehead.

“Have you had enough? This rebellion of yours is vulgar.” Her lips were so red and so falsely kind as she smiled.

“A world where people can’t make their own choices is just as vulgar.”

“You would think that, Ruri-Ruri. You just want to see people running around crazy, their emotions bare for all to see. Since you don’t have any of your own.”

The Habitat Realm, where one could tell no lies.

Hachi-Aug punched her. Blood spattered onto her glove. She didn’t let go of Ruriko's hair. Her head snapped, chunks of hair torn loose by the whiplash.

Ruriko licked the blood from her lips. Her eyes were dark.

Without warning she threw herself forward, forehead cracking into Hiromi’s, the weight of her body careening them backwards.

Hachi-Aug’s grip carried Ruriko down with her. Her other hand was pinned beneath her back. Ruriko snatched at her wrist with broken fingers, grip unerring. She pinned her hand above her head, knees tightening around Hiromi’s hips to keep her still. Hiromi’s pigtails were splayed around her on the concrete, the black strands frizzy and damp with sweat.

“That’s not what I want. You don’t know what I want.”

“Of course I don’t!” Hiromi spat. She was breathing heavily. “You won’t tell me. Wouldn’t tell me. You didn’t even tell me you were leaving.”

She managed to get one leg free, tearing at the seams of her kimono. She flipped them, pressing Ruriko into the ground.

“You would have stopped me.”

“You could have asked me to come with you.”

Her hands went for Ruriko’s neck.

“I just did.” She wheezed.

“You didn’t ask then .”

“You would have said no.”

Ruriko’s elbows and knees were relentless as she writhed beneath her. It was enough to bruise her in this form.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know.” Ruriko’s eyes met hers. Her face was smeared with blood and grime, but her expression was nonchalant. As if she wasn’t moments away from being choked to death.

Hiromi had no retort to that, because Ruriko was right.

“You still could have asked.” She knew her voice was wobbly now. “Then maybe I would have known you cared.”

She tightened her grip. Ruriko’s attempts at escape weakened.

“If you had stayed they could have helped you. Enhanced you, too. You wouldn’t be so weak right now.”

“I am not weak. I wanted to find my own answers. To find the meaning of real happiness. That is not weak.” Her voice was barely a whisper now. Her face was still blank, pale now, white as a ghost.

“I’m going to kill you. You’re going to die.” Hiromi said it like it was a command, leaning in so close she could feel Ruriko’s shallow breath on her face, tickling her lips. “How about some tears? You still have time to beg.”

Hiromi squeezed, squeezed so tight it felt like her fingers would break skin, would touch Ruriko’s blood and flesh and bones in a tantalizing intimate way. Ruriko would bend to her will.

“I won’t die.” Ruriko’s voice was so faint. “Not here. Not yet.”

“Your bodyguard isn’t going to save you. Nobody except me is going to save you.” Her pigtails dangled, framed Ruriko’s face, the strands against her cheek moving as Hiromi spoke, a facsimile of a caress. “You just have to ask. Tell me you want to serve me. To obey me. Tell me you won’t leave me alone again. Tell me, Ruri-Ruri! ”

There was no answer. Ruriko was still. The world slowed down, froze for a staggering moment. A moment where Ruriko was gone, truly gone, and Hiromi was truly alone.

Hiromi tore herself away from Ruriko like she was on fire, like the very feel of her scorched through her layers of clothing and her inhuman skin and right to her soul. She was panting, eyes darting around wildly. She was glad her drones could only see her back.

The world unfroze.

Ruriko took in a long, rattling breath. Her eyes found Hiromi’s as she pulled herself to her feet, one halting movement at a time, until she was braced against the wall, barely standing.

“I won’t die here.” She said, “Because you won’t kill me.”

And then there was an explosion, and her drones were gone, and that Kamen Rider that Ruriko had chosen to believe in was between them.

“Surrender. For Ruriko-san’s sake, too.’” He said.

The woman sneered.

“That angle is going to backfire. I just want to make Ruriko cry.”