#this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time now

[rimatsu]

you know what is missing in the bucktommy mpreg craze? how it adds such a new layer to the sexiness for the pregnant person, specifically when the main focus is not the baby. yes, we all know the doctor visits and sonograms and belly rubs and baby clothes shopping and horny sex marathons. but what about buying clothes that are supposed to accomodate the bigger belly but the real goal is to look sexy af for a fancy date night and maybe to get a few appreciative looks from strangers? what about going to the gym as usual but showing off the belly with a crop top and the booty with some short pants because hubby enjoys the view? what about going out to dance and to drink mocktails with friends while hubby stays at home, but still putting on something more revealing to tease hubby? pregnancy is not just about the horniness but also the sexiness of whoever is pregnant! love to see characters feeling 10 times more confident and sexy in their own bodies actually and enjoying flaunting that while also feeling so so so secure in their relationship with their partner and their love for the baby and their changing body ❤️ i love when the emotional security feeds the positive body image!!

this is like poetry to me.. yes to all of this we're in dire need of that particular flavor of mpreg bucktommy. to you anon, i gift this peripherally topical snippet languishing in my drafts. next time i'll stick to the theme more faithfully i promise

Tommy is brushing his teeth when Evan turns off the water stream, stepping out of the shower on careful legs — balance unsteady, the extra weight he’s hauling around shifting his center of gravity and arching his lower spine. Tommy stands by the sink and stares at his husband, enamored with the sight of him.

Six months in, Evan’s belly used to be perfectly round: curved like a ball, orbed like the moon. Clothed, he looked like a model for a pregnancy fashion brand in anything he wore, tall and broad-shouldered and carrying his growing bump like an accessory. But now that Evan is so far along the process he experiences Braxton-Hicks most nights, his abdomen isn’t quite the perfect sphere anymore. The bump sits heavy and large on the cradle of his pelvis, dropping lower with each day that drips into the next. Naked, he looks like he’s two seconds away from bursting at the seams. He's swollen all over from his pecs to his ankles, skin pulled so tight over his belly silvery-pink stretchmarks cover his sides, streaky indentations Tommy loves to trace with his fingertips. 

Like this, Evan is a vision: Tommy could probably wax poetics about the hyperpigmentation line running down his middle, his cute popped-out navel, and even the enlarged veins criss-crossing down his legs from the oversupply of blood pumping in his system. Evan has always been spellbindingly attractive, but there's novelty in watching the chiseled lines of his muscles soften, the familiar shapes of his body morphing into something new and achingly temporary — the extra padding of his thighs and arms and his meatier hips acting as tangible indications that their lives is about to change. But as much as Tommy looks forward to meeting their daughter, to finally hold her in his arms and not just see her in grainy sonograms, and as objectively selfish as the thought is, he wouldn’t mind Evan staying like this forever: heavy with his child, fecund and dewy and full of literal life. 

"What's with the staring?" Evan asks when their eyes meet. Mirth seeps into his voice as he shakes his hips and adds, "You want some of this?"

[letthestorieslive]

[crossbackpoke-check]

Looks like that video is about a month & a half after The Trade and trevors broken ankle 😣

re: this video… anon 😭 i had suspicions but it is so much worse to have them confirmed that really was like. trevor’s first Public Appearance without jamie AND post-broken ankle which is traumatic in and of itself no wonder every beat reporter was like ‘oh yeah trevor’s just devastated’

wouldn’t you be miserable too if your best friend just got traded and your body betrayed you and what if it was maybe all your fault!!!

[kacchans-waifu]

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL — the pro-hero, dynamite, is forced on a date with some ceo's daughter. except, it's just you and your best friend doing your absolute best to scare him away.

word count: 2.4k

cw: suggestive, fluff, not proofread

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite literally a year. i decided to rewatch the drama and omggggg i still love it. i might make a part two bc this was kinda fun to write.

requests

pro-hero, katsuki bakugou, was rapidly climbing the hero ranks the moment he graduated high school. by the time he was 23, he was already one of japan’s top heroes. he had been working his ass off, spending countless hours training and fighting for the dream he had worked for since he was a child, and all of his hard work had finally come to fruition.

unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have.

“you need to get a girlfriend, katsuki.”

the blond found himself now trapped in another dreadful conversation with his mother. for the past year, his mother had been pestering him about finding a partner and it made him want to tear his hair out. he groaned as he did his best to tune her out.

“i’m being serious, katsuki,” she pestered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “we’re both getting older and I want grandbabies.”

“you’re not getting any fucking grandbabies if you keep fucking bothering me about it,” the man huffed. “i don’t know why you care so much about me fucking some chick. it’s creepy.”

mitsuki scoffed. “well, sorry I don’t want to you die alone and unhappy.”

those words still ricocheted in his head as he shuffled through paperwork a few weeks later. die alone, he thought. like hell, I need some woman and kid slowing me down.

there was a soft knock on the door of his office followed by the calm voice of his assistant. “mr. bakugou?”

“open,” he responded, not looking up from the papers.

his assistant walked in, closing the door behind him. “todoroki’s agency wanted to ask how the paperwork is coming along.”

“tell him to leave me alone.”

the still unnamed assistant checked his watch, huffing. “sir—” he leaned forward, the tablet in his hand now curled up near his chest— “have you called your mother at all today?”

katsuki raised his eyes, immediately suspicious. “why?”

“yes or no, sir?”

he sighed. “no, I have not.”

“that explains it,” the assistant muttered, leaning back. “she wanted me to tell you that she-”

“KATSUKI!” like clockwork, mitsuki stormed through the double doors of katsuki’s office. the man swore under his breath. the assistant stood aside as the older woman made her way to her son’s desk. “I have incredible news for you!~”

he place the papers on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose, anticipating the worst. “oh boy, I wonder what it could be,” he spoke, sarcasm lacing his jaded voice.

“curb your enthusiasm, buddy.” mitsuki stood tall. “the ceo of XXXXX has agreed to a blind date with his daughter!” she did jazz hands to emphasize it.

katsuki froze. “sorry?”

“you’re going on a blind date with the ceo’s daughter.” she did the jazz hands again.

“are you fucking kidding me?!” katsuki began to raise his voice, evidently pissed off. “you went and set up some blind date with a random woman because you want some fucking grandkids!?”

“I fail to see the issue katsuki.”

“well, there’s fucking plenty!”

“listen, and listen well; you’re going to find a woman to settle down with whether you like it or not, katsuki. plus, wouldn’t marrying into a ceo’s family be good for business?”

“this is fucking ridiculous.” the man stood up and was ready to leave. “it’s not happening. i’m busy all this month.”

“not anymore!~” mitsuki had the biggest shit-eating grin the man had ever seen.

katsuki looked over at his assistant, eyebrow cocked. “that’s what I was trying to tell you, sir, before she…” he shifted his gaze to the older woman “…before she walked in.”

“i also had him clear your schedule.” she chimed in.

katsuki huffed, wanting the world to swallow him whole.

~

“another one? did he forget every other date you’ve gone on?”

your friend had invited you to a nice debrief at the cafe you two had been eyeing for a while. being from a wealthy business family, it was common place for her parents to try and marry her off, but your friend would rather eat lead than have anything to do with this.

your friend huffed, crossing her arms as she looked out at the nearby street. “that’s what I’m saying.”

“and you literally have no idea who this dude could be?”

“well, it is a blind date after all.” she looked back at you, hands now on the table. “but he knows I don’t wanna be set up with some dude just because he’s rich. I only plan to marry for love.” she waved her hands in a rainbow motion on the word “love” to really get the point home.

you took a sip from your drink. “your dad, yeah. doesn’t he know we’re just gonna scare him away again?”

she raised her coffee cup to her lip, chuckling a bit. memories of your two’s shenanigans flooding her mind. “should we do that again?”

“is that even a question,” you grinned.

~

you and your friend had planned for you to go on the date instead. you’d be dressed neatly in expensive clothing borrowed from your friend. she gave you a cute makeup look to make you look expensive and a pretty wig with scarily realistic hair.

the plan was simple:

be as unappealing as possible.

you sat down and waited for your friend’s date to show up. as you waited, you did your best to calm your nerves and fix your makeup a bit. after a few minutes of waiting, a deep voice spoke from behind you.

“you XXXX XXXXXXXXX?”

startled, the compact mirror in your hand shook. you turned around and began to shake even more. the man your friend had been set up with, the man you are about to scare off, the man standing in front of you right now was absolutely, unbelievably attractive. what was his name again?

katsuki bakugou.

katsuki saw your eyes widen for a moment and was about to leave, a bit worried that you were the wrong person.

“yes,” you answered, voice a bit meeker than you had hoped. not only was he undeniably attractive, but he looked oddly familiar. was he some kind of model or actor? “take a seat.” you gestured to the seat across from you.

the blond sat down, visibly uninterested. you, on the other hand, were doing your absolute best to calm your nerves, hands trembling a bit as you raised your water glass to your lips. you took a deep breath. you were determined to make this date fail.

thus began tactic number one.

you let out a deep sigh, drawing katsuki’s attention. “it’s warm in here, isn’t it,” you asked smugly, carefully peeling your jacket off. the dress you were wearing underneath was sleeveless and showed off your shoulders and collarbone. it was far from warm in the restaurant you two sat in, but you were without a doubt going to pretend you were burning up.

no one likes a woman that shows too much skin.

katsuki didn’t even bother with a verbal response. instead, he just cocked an eyebrow. he examined you as you practically flaunted your arms and noticed goosebumps painting the exposed skin. “you have goosebumps.”

crap.

you chuckled, fixing your hair. “i just get goosebumps a lot.”

time for the next strategy.

you kicked your foot against the table. you fake winced, saying a sweet “sorry” as you pulled your leg back. your voice then switched to a high-pitched baby voice as you cooed at your expensive heels, gently brushing them. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” you then turned your attention to the equally expensive clutch near you. “oh, did you get scared, baby?” you continued cooing and kissing your clutch.

a woman crazy about luxury goods. how’s that for a turn-off?

you looked away from the clutch and watched as katsuki typed away on his phone.

was your performance not worth watching?

“what are you doing?”

katsuki’s head darted up before he sheepishly tucked his phone away. “a text from work. sorry.”

this won’t do. on to my last resort.

“I’m so sad,” you blurted out.

“what?”

you crossed your arms, huffing. “I’m so sad. you seem so uninterested in me.” you pouted. “it’s making samantha and rachel very sad.”

the blond’s brows furrowed as he took a sip out of his cup. “samantha and rachel?”

you smirked, holding the sides of the table so your chest was open. “the left one is samantha. right is rachel. i spent a wopping half a million a piece on these babies.”

he nearly choked on his water, coughing as he placed it back on the table. you did your absolute best to not break character. you giggled, leaning back in your seat. “i’m rambling, aren’t i?”

one could say this was your best performance. there was no way in hell that he was going to ask for a second date.

—

“HE ASKED FOR A SECOND DATE?!”

you sat with your head in your hands across from your friend. “I did my best, I swear.”

“if you did your best then why am I going on a second date with him,” she asked, practically crushing her cup.

“he was very persistent, in my defense.”

your friend sighed lowly. “jeez, I guess I’ll have to go and scare him away myself.”

“how,” you asked, lazily looking back up her. “he thinks you look like me.”

“well, i don’t want to see him anymore regardless, so him finding out you’re not the real me should only drive him further, yeah?” your friend feigned calmness as she said that, but you could tell that she was thoroughly irritated. you watched as coffee leaked from under her lid and onto her fingers. she was no indeed crushing the cup.

sheepishly you offered, “I’ll buy you a new drink.”

—

“you want to…meet her again?”

katsuki decided to visit izuku on his lunch break. they were in a nearby cafe, casually debriefing about how their days had been going. izuku, like most of katsuki’s friends, had long known of his mother’s desire for her son to get married and have kids. katsuki had told izuku about the date his mom had set him up on, complaining about how that “old hag”, in his words, had no respect for his boundaries and was weirdly obsessed with him getting hitched off. so izuku was very surprised to hear that the dreaded date went well.

“yeah,” he admitted, digging his fork into his pasta. “I mean, she didn’t seem half bad.” he looked back up at izuku, who held a stunned expression. “quit looking at me like that.”

“sorry, I just didn’t expect for it to have gone so well. she must be a real catch.”

katsuki thought back to what you considered a disaster of a date. it had been so long since he’d met such a straightforward woman. you came across as so honest, so genuine. he…liked that about you. and sure, you were pretty and wealthy, but things like that meant nothing to him. he’d be a liar if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you on the drive back to his apartment. “i guess so.”

suddenly, there was a loud crash outside followed by a scream. the two men perked up, both now looking out the window. a villain attack?

at the sound of another crash, they dove out of the cafe and onto the street to be met with what they expected. what katsuki didn’t expect was to see was a woman that looked suspiciously familiar.

you had somehow ended up in the middle of the crossfire of this low-ranking villain’s attack. if a hero hadn’t saved you just in time, you would’ve gotten seriously hurt. unfortunately, the moment you got a good look at the hero that saved you, you realized why the man your friend was set up with looked so familiar.

you had gone on a date with the top hero, dynamite.

the two of you stared at each other, face inches apart. katsuki examined your face. he could barely believe it. here you were, standing right in front of him, and he had just saved your life. now would be a bad time to ask you on a second date, right?

“you’re the…”

quickly, you backed away and bowed. “t-thank you so much!” you tried to run away, face burning with anxiety, but his large hand instinctually grabbed your wrist.

“wait a second, how the hell did you get yourself caught up in a villain attack?”

“it was an accident, really,” you said as you attempted to wiggle yourself out of his grip.

“y/n, are you okay,” you friend asked, running up to you. she had gotten separated from you when the attack started. however, she halted the moment she saw katsuki right next to you. “oh no..”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “y/n?” that’s not your name, he thought. his grip loosened just enough for you to release yourself.

your heart was racing. katsuki, decked out in his signature costume, looked at you with the most perplexed expression you had ever seen. you jogged up to your friend, trying to push her away. “XXXX, we should go,” you muttered.

“hey,” katsuki called out. “you just got attacked by a villain.”

“we’re just fine,” you friend responded.

“i was telling her, not you.” he didn’t want to believe it, but the name your friend called you rang through his head like bullets. it couldn’t have been a nickname. it sounded nothing like the name he knew you as. could it really be…

“let me walk you to the police station, y/n. i have a lot to ask you.”

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ yapper, chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which chris is yapping away with his fingers in your mouth because you kept interrupting him.

warnings. gagging, suggestive but no smut.

authors note. this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, i completely forgot about this.

“there’s so much shit i need to do for my brand tomorrow, like-“ chris says but being cut off by your voice for the fifth time and he’s only been talking for ten minutes.

“oh my god. i’m so excited for you to release the new items, they’re all so cute.” you gush with excitement as you think about the baby tees and hoodies chris has designed.

“yeah. i think this will be the-“ chris attempts to talk but gets cut off by you, yet again.

“that baby pink baby tee? that looks like heaven. it’s so cute, i can’t wait to-.” you say, but quickly stop as you turn to chris and see the unamused look on his face.

“what’s the problem, baby?” you ask furrowing your brows.

“you. you’re the problem at the moment, actually.” he says with a smirk growing on his face as he trails his hand up your arm, holding his hand in place when it reaches your jaw, “you’ve interrupted me so many times.” he whispers, leaning his face closer to yours as he moves his ring and middle finger up to yours lips.

you and chris kept intense eye contact as he pushes his fingers into your mouth until the lay flat in the middle of your tongue.

his finger’s sit in your mouth for a moment before he pushes them the slightest bit further in. “i swear you never let me talk.” his icy blue eyes stay locked on yours as he moves his fingers just a little more.

when he finally stills his fingers in your mouth, you attempt to talk again, “i do, i let you talk all the time” you try to say but it comes out muffled.

“all the time?” chris repeats back with a scoff, his fingers moving ever so slightly in your mouth, clearly not believing you. he knows you don’t ever let him talk. he just loves any excuse to tease you.

“maybe not all the time, but most of the time” you say but when you do chris plunges his fingers to the back of your throat, causing you to gag on his fingers and tears fill your eyes. and when they do chris pulls his fingers back to sit on your tongue, “now let me talk” he says.

his fingers sit with a little more pressure on your tongue as he waits for you to nod in agreement, watching the tears form in your eyes as you try to recover from the gag. he knows you’ll agree, you always agree.

you slowly nod your head. chris smirks then continues talking, “now you’re finally letting me get a word in. so yeah, the new drop is in about two weeks so i have a bunch of shit i need to sort between now and then.”

his fingers sit still in your mouth as he talks, his other hand that’s around your waist moving up and down your side gently. while his fingers don’t move, they do apply more pressure as he talks, making it harder and harder for you to concentrate on what he’s saying.

chris has yapped and yapped for the past 15 minutes with no interruptions, due to obvious reasons.

you let out a hum as chris brings up something you really want to talk about, but he glares at you and pushes his fingers further down your throat, causing you to gag again.

he smirks as you gag around his fingers again, he’s got such power over you at the moment as he’s in full control. every time you moan, hum, or try to say something, he gags you again. he knows there’s something you want to ask, and he finds this whole situation way too amusing, “there something you want to say, baby?” he taunts with a sly smirk on his face.

he watches intently as you hum and moan around his fingers, his smirk never leaving his face. he loves how powerless you are right now. no matter how hard you try to talk, his fingers will always stop you, and it makes him so amused. he knows that there’s something you want to ask, and he’s fully enjoying taunting you.

“sorry baby, it’s my turn to talk. not yours. but you’ll get your chance later, just not now.” he says in a mocking tone. chris lets out a small chuckle as he watches you struggle. he knows how badly you want to ask him the question, but he’s loving this too much to give you the chance too. “you’re just gonna have to wait a while, baby. i still have more to say. don’t worry.”

he continues rambling on for another ten minutes. this time he only had to gag you twice, unlike last time he had to do it countless times. you really wanted to talk so you brung your hand up to chris’ hand that is in your mouth and attempt to pull it away from your mouth, which chris doesn’t like.

as soon as your hand comes up to his, he pulls it back and pushes his fingers even further in your mouth, his smirk growing as he watches you. he lets out a small huff, “no, princess, don’t try that. this is my turn to talk, not yours. you don’t listen. i have to remind you who’s in charge, don’t i?” he says in a mocking tone.

you look up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to let you talk.

chris looks down at you, seeing your pleading eyes and he feels his heart fluttering. every time you look at him like that, he just wants to give in and do anything for you. but not this time, though. no, no, no. right now he’s enjoying how much control he has, and he isn’t giving that up. “ah, princess, baby. stop looking at me like that. that’s not gonna work this time. i’m in charge right now.”

your body deflates when he says that. you really thought chris was going to let talk this time, but you were wrong.

chris notices your body deflates, seeing you give up. he lets out a soft chuckle; the whole situation was so amusing to him. he’s got you right where he wants you - at his mercy. he loves having power over you like this; it’s such a huge turn on for him. he can’t help but tease you a little bit more. “aww, princess. did you really think i was gonna let you talk? after all the times you’ve cut me off? that’s really cute.”

[pedrospatch]

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[luvwestwood]

"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna

4,341 words.

warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)

notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.

The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.

You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.

"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."

You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?

You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.

Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.

The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.

Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.

Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.

You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.

Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.

Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.

"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.

By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.

Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.

The coral haired one butts into the conversation.

"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.

Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..

You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.

As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.

Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?

You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.

Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.

“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”

Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”

Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”

Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.

“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.

Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.

Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.

Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.

“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”

“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.

Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.

You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”

Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."

He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.

Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.

Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.

Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.

Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”

“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”

He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.

You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”

Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”

"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.

He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”

Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?

You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”

“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”

You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.

"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.

He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.

This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.

His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.

He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.

You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.

"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.

You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"

Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.

You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.

"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."

You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."

"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."

You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.

"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."

Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"

Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.

The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.

"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."

Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."

Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.

"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”

“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.

“Shh…” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.

Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.

You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.

You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.

You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.

Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.

“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.

You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.

Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.

Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!

You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.

It was more cake.

Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.

Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.

His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.

“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.

Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.

Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.

He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.

Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.

You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.

You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.

“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.

You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.

He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.

You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.

Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.

Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.

Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.

Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.

Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.

“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.

“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.

A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”

“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.

You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”

Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”

You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.

You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.

Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.

Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.

Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.

Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.

You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.

“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”

Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.

Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.

Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.

Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.

“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”

Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.

You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.

Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.

“I-It’s too much- I can’t…” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.

Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”

Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.

Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.

Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”

Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”

You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.

“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.

“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”

You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.

Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.

Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.

This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”

Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.

You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.

“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.

You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”

Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.

Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.

As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.

Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.

Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.

Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.

Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.

Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.

Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.

You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.

All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.

“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”

��� ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[tbaluver]

hi!! i was wondering if i could ask for some angst with all the guys ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

smthing like mc (gender neutral if possible!) going to a mission and not coming back and the guys' reactions to that ?

ty in advance (≧▽≦)

When You Don't Come Back From Your Mission- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: angst no comfort a/n: hi anonnie! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy ! i'll post a part where mc/ reader comes back from the mission after a long time and maybe that would be a comfort part of this angst reaction (๑>؂•̀๑) i know a couple people from my inbox have requested me to write something about that and i'll get it out soon it's just sitting on my drafts but it'll be out so so soon ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry lovelies i just get distracted a lot any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You and Xavier weren’t assigned to this mission, which was a bummer given how often you two have been always paired for similar tasks. Your extensive training together, countless sparring sessions, and numerous times you two have spent together have created a deep bond and sense of confidence in each other’s skills. Although it was unusual to not be paired in a mission, you both trusted in your abilities and didn’t think much of it.

As he returned from picking up snacks at the convenience store, he walked into the Hunter’s Association office and was struck by the sense of panic that had been overtaken in the room. The frantic energy was evident as he overheard that your team has not given any responses or updates regarding your location. The news hit him like a jolt, nearly causing him to drop the snacks he was holding.

His gentle demeanor shifted to one of deep concern. The usual calmness in his eyes was replaced by a serious and troubled look. His universe felt like it had dimmed, knowing that the brightest star was missing from his grasp.

He demanded immediate access to the latest mission’s location, coordinates, or any relevant information. He insisted that he would take charge of the situation himself and offer no objects as they recognized the intensity in his voice.

He internally blamed himself for not coming sooner. Every path he takes as he travels to find you, only fuels the sense of urgency and concern to find your and ensure your safety.

Zayne:

Zayne has always trusted in your abilities and knew what you were capable of. Each mission, he knew you could handle it with ease and he had faith that you would come back. As always, before he left he would always remind you, “Stay safe and don’t do anything reckless. I don’t want to see you back in my office with another injury.”

Normally, your absences were brief and he would patiently wait for your return, eager to hear the absurd stories of your missions, but this time something felt different. Something he couldn’t quite place. The days dragged on longer than usual and the silence from you was unsettling.

He tried to distract himself with paperwork and tending to patience but his anxiety gnawed at him, thinking of what had happened to you. A mission shouldn’t take this long, especially for someone as skilled as you. 

Every day he would send a text and sometimes they were random. Sometimes they were filled with encouragement or updates about small things in his life, in hopes to get a response from you. However, each message he sent was always left unanswered which fueled his growing concern. He began to doubt if you were ignoring him or if something far worse had happened.

Unable to contain his worry any longer, he drove to your house and knocked on your door unannounced. The minutes stretched into an agonizing wait and when there was no response. His heart that had been warmed by your presence has now gripped by icy fear.

Each day he has desperately waited for any responses and any updates from the Hunter’s Association about your well-being. The longer he had to wait, the more he was determined to join the battlefield himself in desperation to find you again.

Rafayel:

Ever since you departed on your mission, he would be counting the seconds, minutes, and days until your return. It’s something he would usually do when you leave for a mission. Time passed by slowly in your absence and he tried to distract himself by visiting the beach or working on new sketches, hoping to find a spark of inspiration for his next piece. Yet, inspiration was difficult when his greatest muse was missing for a few days

A few days. What began to be a few days stretched into a week and more. His concern grew as your silence and absence in his life persisted. Normally, you would have responded to any of his texts or calls even amid the chaos of your missions. But now, this mission was different. His phone never lit up from any notifications from you and your absence gnawed at him.

His distress was evident. His meticulously groomed appearance had unraveled. His hair was disheveled and his outfits mismatched. The studio that was usually a bright haven of creativity had become a reflection of his inner turmoil. The room was shrouded in shadows, and canvases were marred with erratic splashes of paint and frustrated strokes.

'Missing you comes in waves and tonight I am drowning.'

He was spiraling and grew relentless, digging up any lead and rumor of information about your mission. Whatever happened to you, someone was going to pay. He doesn’t care if the bounty on his head catches up to him. He’ll try to find you no matter what, even if it takes him another 800 years.

Sylus:

He knew you were a skilled Hunter so initially he dismissed your absence as just another routine mission. He assumed he would see you again soon in a couple of days and began making plans for the two of you to relax and enjoy when you returned.

However as days turned into a week without any responses to his text or voice messages, his calm demeanor began to crumble. Your status on DeepSpace hadn’t been updated since the last time you had talked and it never showed that you read his messages. His unease deepened when Mephisto reported that he had been unable to locate you.

The growing anxiety and frustrations were impossible for him to contain. He had tried to rush to the location of your mission only to find no trace of you there. His office became a battleground of his conflicted emotions. He cursed himself for being so careless about you.

Luke and Kieran could only witness the storm of anger and worry from a distance. They dared not to approach him during the moments of his intense agitation. They understand as they miss you as well but they could only wish they could do so much to help find you.

He figures he has to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost. Your little Hunter’s Association could only do so much but many do not understand how much power, influence, and resources Sylus has at his disposal. He doesn’t care if he has to get his hands dirty, he will have to do anything to find his little dove back in his arms again.

[izzyy-stuff]

AFTER CLOSING HOURS - CHOI YEONJUN

lifeguard!yeonjun x fem!reader

in which your friend and the boy she is seeing decide Choi Yeonjun needs to calm his hormones as soon as possible. And what better way is there to do it then show him a pretty girl who can satisfy all his needs?

wc 3.7k

warnings smut, public sex but no one is around, it happens in the pool, unprotected sex, Yeonjun is lowk a hoe ngl, but also a sweetheart, mention of lifeguard!Taehyun, Jay of enhypen mentioned as an ex, reader is implied to be shorter than yeonjun, oral (f. receiving), cum swallowing, brief nipple play, pet names lmk if I missed anything!

↪ izzy speaks... fun fact: lifeguard!Yeonjun was actually my first idea for a fic after I started writing on tumblr, so it has been sitting in my drafts since June. Somehow, there was just always a different fic I wanted to write at the moment, but thanks to y'all voting for it when I made the poll about what you want me to write next, it's finally seeing the day light 🙌

Yeonjun sat on his chair by the pool, just as he would any other day. With his sunglasses high on his nose and a phone in his hands, he did the same as any other lifeguard: absolutely nothing. 

Of course, some would say that he was neglecting his job, that it would be better to hire someone more responsible, someone serious. But the problem was, anyone else, no matter how accountable or not they were, would behave the same he did. Fortunately for him, the pool was sparsely occupied, leaving Yeonjun with little to do during his shifts. One could say that it was part of his job, sitting by the pool and doing nothing.

And, if, for whatever reason, there did turn out to be someone who wanted to drown in the five-foot-deep swimming pool after all, he was always ready to put his phone aside and jump into the water. 

Yeonjun liked the freedom of his job. Even though, honestly, sitting in a chair for six hours in the burning sun every day could also be tiring and boring. 

So boring he almost quit. 

Almost. 

Because as he ended his shift, switching with another lifeguard, and grabbed his resignation papers, so confident he would put them on his boss’ table, he found a reason to stop right in front of her office and turn around again. 

As his eyes landed on the girl lying on her stomach on her towel near the pool, he realized the pros of his job again. One of them being all the gorgeous girls he could sneak glances at. And sometimes, when he was bored enough, take them to his dressing room. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

“It’s basically law that you go to a pool during summer!” You scoff at your friend, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “The law actually is that I get to relax in my cozy apartment now that I finally have time for myself,” you state, and without waiting for her answer, you look down at your book again, re-reading the first sentence on the page. 

“Oh, come on! Please! We have to go!” She pleads, making you groan as you place your bookmark between the two pages and slam it shut, before glancing over at her. “Fine, fine, I’ll go if it means you’ll stop bothering me,” you finally accept defeat with a sigh, creating a grin on her face. “I promise you won’t regret it!” 

New things never excite you as much as others. You liked sticking  to your routine and visiting places you’ve already been to. You aren’t sure why, but you’ve always preferred it that way.

But your friends always thought otherwise, bringing you to new restaurants that opened in town, going on trips to places still unfamiliar to all of you, and now, taking you to the swimming pool they opened last year when you weren’t in town. 

“I just don’t understand why we have to go to this pool. You have a pool at your house! Why couldn’t we have gone there?” You ask her for the millionth time, making her groan in annoyance. “Just wait. You’ll understand once we get there,” is all she says before locking her arm with yours, smirking as she leads you towards the swimming pool. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

“There is your reason,” she says proudly, lowering her sunglasses as she watches the lifeguards switch shifts. You glance the same way she does, raising an eyebrow at the black-haired boy before looking at your friend again. “You wanted to go here because of a boy?” 

“Not just any boy! The hottest guy you’ve ever seen!” She exclaims, watching you roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t find him attractive.” You turn your attention to the male again, examining his features. “Okay, yeah. He’s handsome,” you admit. “But still, that doesn’t mean we should–” 

“His name is Yeonjun,” she interrupts you. “Choi Yeonjun. And I swear you two would look great together.” 

“So this is what it’s about,” you scoff. “You’re unbelievable. Why are you trying to set me up with someone again?” You reach into your bag, bringing out your towel , and wrapping it around yourself  as if it could prove her anything. “I’m happy with how things are now,” you proclaim, well aware of your stubbornness. 

“Oh, come on! You’ve been sex deprived since you broke up with Jay! And trust me, he knows how to fuck,” she assures you, completely serious. “All you have to do is walk confusedly around the kiosks, and he’ll be all yours.” 

You shake your head at her, glancing toward the male again. “Well, your plan couldn’t work even if I wanted to do it, anyway” you state, nodding toward him so she would look the same way. 

He is handsome, you can’t argue with that. And you couldn’t say you would mind getting to know him either, but with his handsomeness came one con. Attractive guys were always too busy. Busy with talking to all the different girls. Busy thinking god knows what of themselves. Even now, you could see him talking to some girl in the pool, a few others surrounding him.

“Oh, hell no. We are going to swim. Right now,” she states, grabbing your hand and basically forcing you out of your chair. “You need to show off.” 

You sigh, throwing your towel back on your bag before following her to the pool, giving up on trying to talk her out of it. You knew you were stubborn, but so was she. And unlike you, she wouldn’t back down until the very end. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

You felt embarrassed. It was pathetic trying to get into his pants like this, but the most embarrassing thing about the whole situation was his stares. You could feel his eyes all over your body. On your legs when you walked out of the pool, on your ass when you walked past him, and on your breast as you put sunscreen on. 

“You have him wrapped around your finger,” your friend laughs, watching the male opposite you on the other side of the swimming pool. You feel your cheeks heating up every time you make eye contact with him, averting your gaze from him immediately. “That’s to not wanting you to set me up with anyone,” you mumble. 

“You’re welcome,” she giggles, looking at the time on her phone. “Alright, my job here is done. The pool closes in twenty minutes. Stay until the end if you want our work to be worth it. Wait until everyone is gone and then go talk to him,” she gives you instructions, and it makes you wonder how many times she has done something like this. There’s especially one question that gets stuck in your head. Was he the one that taught her all of this? 

And trust me, he knows how to fuck. You remember your friend's words, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watch her pack her things. “Wait,” you stop her, hesitating as she turns to you again with a confused look. “Did you…sleep with him before?” You watch her burst into laughter, leaving you confused this time. 

She quickly pulls out her phone, looking for something. “If you are worried about breaking the girls’ code or something like that, relax. This is my lifeguard,” she smiles, proudly showing you a picture on her phone. “Yeonjun is kind of a hoe, though, not going to lie to you. I am not sure who he did sleep with,” she adds. “It was Taehyun’s idea that I could set you two up,” she admits, pointing at the picture on her phone again so you’d know who she is talking about. “He thinks you might be what Yeonjun needs to calm his hormones and finally stick with one girl. And even if you can’t exactly change him, I thought it would be good for you to have a fun night at least.” 

You nod to her, hesitating as you glance at the male again, his eyes still glued to your body. He probably thought he was inconspicuous, too. “This is one of your worst ideas,” you sigh. “But I’ll give it a go. I can’t let your effort go in vain.” 

♡⸝⸝  

“Excuse me, the pool is closing in two minutes,” you look up upon hearing the unfamiliar voice, gulping down to swallow all the stress that brushed over you, before you look around the place, as if you don’t know it is empty by now. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologize awkwardly. 

You feel his eyes on your back as you get up to collect your things, biting your bottom lip. Thank god he couldn’t see your face at the moment. “You know, I think the front gate is locked already. So if you wait for me for a bit, you can leave with me through the back,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the place, doing his best to hold back and not let his eyes fall on your lower body. 

“Sure,” you nod, the sound of the pool filtration the only thing you heard for a while. “Alright, yeah. You can come with me,” he shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit all over the place today,” he apologized, leading you toward the dressing rooms. 

“More like a bit all over me,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving your lips. You freeze as you watch him stop before you, realizing he can still hear you. “I mean–” 

“If you noticed me, you must have been looking at me too, or am I wrong?” 

“You’re not wrong,” you admit when you notice the hunger in his eyes, looking up at him and trying your best to keep eye contact with him. But honestly, it was hard when his eyes looked like that. At first glance, it felt like innocent boba eyes that you could get lost in, but then you saw the lust, excitement, and arousal behind them, hesitating again. 

A chuckle slips past his lips, making your eyes widen. “You’re cute,” he comments, watching your cheeks turn pink. “What’s your name?” You answer him, doing your best to remain calm as he steps forward. He repeats your name, almost as if trying to see how it sounds on his lips. “I’m Yeonjun.” 

“I know who you are,” you assure him. “A lot of girls seem to know.” 

“I don’t know a lot of girls’ names, though.” You roll your eyes at him, scoffing at how cheesy he sounds. “Don’t you have places to be? I thought you still need to change so we can leave,” you quickly change the topic, knowing you had him where you wanted now. 

“That can wait, don’t you think?” You bite your bottom lip as you gaze him in the eyes again, instinctively nodding. “God and I promised Taehyun I wouldn’t hook up with another girl at work,” he muttered quietly, stepping forward again to get closer to you. You could hear your heart beating faster as you looked at him, regretting your decision immediately. You shouldn’t have listened to your friend. You should have left with her and stayed sex deprived. You should have– 

He interrupts your thoughts by pressing his lips on yours, making your eyes widen. “Was that…okay with you?” He stops, for the first time in a while, finding himself hesitating as he watches you freeze. He never had to question if a girl liked him or what she thought of him. Yet, here he was, rethinking his next moves as if it was the first time he was this close to a girl. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, your hand reaching to the back of his neck and pulling him closer to yourself to kiss him again. “It’s so wrong that your lips taste this good.” He smirks into the kiss, his hand roaming your back while his tongue explores your mouth. It feels weird having his hands all over you, but at the same time, it seems so right. 

“It’s wrong that you’re this gorgeous,” he comments back, his hand sliding under your bottom piece as he grasps your ass, picking you up in one swift movement. You yelp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist and your hands around his shoulders. Your eyes shake, mostly from excitement, as you watch him, questioning what is going on in his mind. 

He doesn’t say anything, though. His lips land on yours immediately instead as he walks forward, doing his best not to wobble and make you both fall to the ground as his eyes stay close to enjoy the kiss fully. 

When you pull away to take a moment and breathe, you’re back next to the pool, near his assigned place. “So you don’t plan on changing anymore,” you tease him, unable to hide your smile as you watch his face, scanning his features from up close. His lips are pretty, you notice. Pretty is a suitable word to describe him. “I will gladly take you to the changing room and change with you later, but for now, this will be more fun.” 

You’re not sure how it all happened, but the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the pool’s edge, your legs thrown over Yeonjun’s shoulders while his head is buried in between your thighs. You weren’t sure what to expect when he said it “would be more fun,” but after he had jumped into the water, not caring about getting his hair wet, you knew you were in for a ride. 

You pull on his hair, moaning out as his tongue plays with your clit. “Mhm?” He looks up for a second when you do so, his boba eyes making you melt. “N-nothing,” you shake, biting your bottom lip at the sight. He is no longer just pretty. With his wet hair in front of his eyes and your slick on his lips, he is beyond just that. 

He chuckles, diving between your legs again, this time sucking harder. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles as he licks your core, looking up at you to see your reaction before his tongue makes its way into your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. 

Yeonjun lets you pull on his hair however you want, unbothered by your actions as his hands squeeze your thighs, keeping you in place as he tongue-fucks you, enjoying himself as much as you do. 

“I’m–” your voice breaks in the middle as he goes back to sucking on your clit, sending you over the edge before you can warn him. “Going to cum,” you breathe out, but by the time, his mouth is already covered with your release. “Tastes so fucking good,” he mumbles, licking his lips. He lets go of your thighs, pulling himself up to reach your lips. “So good, princess,” he praises before kissing you. 

“Alright, come in,” Yeonjun whispers softly, letting his legs hit the bottom of the pool again. His hand reaches towards you, and you gladly accept it. He helps you into the water, his hand slowly tracing from your thigh to your back, coming up until he reaches the strings of your bikini top, pulling it off in one swift motion. 

You grant him one sheepish smile full of nervousness, keeping your eyes on him. You were too scared to look away, internally terrified that if you dared to look away, he would disappear. “Is it okay so far?” He wondered, carefully caressing your waist as if he could read your mind. You nod, biting your bottom lip as your hand reaches his chest, your fingertips just so slightly brushing over his nipples. He groans, trying to keep his moans from escaping. 

His hands repeat your motion, twisting your right nipple in his two fingers while he lowers his head to your left one, leaving wet kisses all over your breast. “Jjun,” you gasp as he sucks on your nipple, throwing your head back. You open your mouth to speak again, but all that you’re able to do at the moment is moan. He makes it impossible for you to think straight, especially after you feel his knee between your legs, pressing against your naked core. 

You wrap your leg around his hips, pulling him closer. Yeonjun looks up at you for a moment, smirking when he notices the need in your eyes, caressing your thigh before he makes you wrap your other leg around him, too, pushing you onto the wall. You can feel his bulge against your cunt, and wish he would have taken down his swim trunks a long time ago. 

“You’re so impatient, sweetheart,” he teases, pressing his lips on yours again. You don’t hesitate and kiss him back, opening your mouth to give him better access. Part of you hates how easily he can get you, but you can’t help it and want all of him as soon as possible. You need him to fill you up, fuck you dumb like you haven’t been in a while. 

“It’s your ‘ngh fault,” you breathe out, grinding on his bulge. Yeonjun bites onto his bottom lip, doing his best to keep quiet. It’s safe to say you drove him crazy. “‘M wait–” his breath shakes, and his eyes shut close. He squeezes your thighs, stopping you so he can take his shorts down. 

It’s a new experience, you must admit. You never fantasized about pool sex, but now that the lifeguard was thrusting his cock into you, somehow managing to hit your g-spot on the first try and driving you crazy, you had a completely different opinion on it. You’ll have to repeat it in the future. 

Yeonjun’s hand is firmly pressed against the cold tiles next to you, his lips all over your neck and collarbone while he fucks your orgasm back into you. You tried to keep it in, wait for him to reach his climax too, and then cum together, but it was impossible to control anything when he was this good. Even though the thought of it disgusted you, you could see he had the experience as his reputation promised. 

“So perfect,” he blabs another praise, sucking onto the skin on your neck. You aren’t sure how many praises left his lips by this point, but you know he hasn’t stopped giving you compliments since he thrust into you for the first time. “Could fuck you forever.” 

You don’t answer anything. Instead, you tug on his hair, stealing a kiss from the lifeguard immediately when he looks up, whining against his lips. You feel him slowing down as his breath gets heavier, making you realize he is about to cum, too. You don’t get the chance to tell him to pull out when he pulls you in for another kiss, but you don’t even mind much, honestly. 

You let him cum inside you, thrust his cum deep into you while listening to his groans and whines, a few more praises leaving his lips before he finally pulls out of you. You whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your legs giving up as you fall into his arms, making him chuckle. “You were so good, princess. So good,” he coos, rubbing circles on your back. “You’d tell anyone that,” you mumble, and before you can even realize you said it out loud, he sits you on the edge again, opening your legs and placing himself between them, looking up at you. “I don’t usually talk with the girls I fuck here,” he proclaims, his eyes as sincere as they can be. “Don’t know their names either,” he says, adding your name to prove his point. 

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your cheeks heating up. He had just fucked you, and yet, it was somehow embarrassing having him stand between your legs while you looked down at him. “I don’t tell anyone that,” he assures you. “Just like I don’t want any girl’s number.” 

Your eyes widen, and you have to avert your gaze from him. “But I am sure you make every guy feel like this,” he rests his chin on your thigh, keeping his eyes on you. “Like what?” You ask, trying not to pay much attention to the fact your cheeks are red. 

“Totally crazy,” Yeonjun proclaims, as if it was obvious. You scoff, thinking he is just making fun of you. But when you glance down at him, he seems as serious as one could be, making you gulp. “You’re the one driving me crazy,” you admit, biting your bottom lip. 

“We can drive each other crazy then,” he suggests softly, finding your hand and taking it into his. His fingers intertwine with yours, and you think you might fall for him right then and there. “I can’t possibly fuck anyone else now that I got a taste of you.” 

You don’t say anything to him, refusing to let him sway you so easily. But when you finally leave the pool and get into his dressing room, his lips are all over your body again, begging you to at least consider calling him again, preferably as soon as possible. “Fine, fine, I’ll think about it. But I probably won’t call you,” you sigh, watching him type his number into your phone. “I am not looking for sex with no attachments.” 

His ears perk up at your statement. This is his chance, he thinks. Chance to finally prove to Taehyun that he can have a serious relationship if he wants to. “Let me take you on a date then,” he offers. 

You sigh again, but the more you think about it, you don’t see a reason why you should reject him. So you nod, sharing your number with him, too, so he can text you later. Part of you knows it might be just a waste of your time. Yeonjun is kind of a hoe, you remember your friend’s words, but it doesn’t shake you. You want to give him a chance.

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[heeliopheelia]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing

a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands. 

Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.

“Bro, don’t even-”

Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”

“Hey!”

“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”

You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”

“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.” 

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”

Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”

PARK JAY

“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”

His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you. 

“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”

You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”

Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his. 

Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him. 

“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”

SIM JAKE

You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.

“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look. 

You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.

“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”

Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”

You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”

“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now. 

“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”

Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.

You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.

“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”

You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words. 

“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”

He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.

KIM SUNOO

“A WHAT?” 

Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”

“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.

You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”

“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”

“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl? 

“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”

“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.” 

YANG JUNGWON

“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”

“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”

There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair. 

“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”

You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”

It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt. 

“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought. 

Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”

You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left. 

You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname. 

After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face. 

“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.

You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”

“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you. 

“Sorry but I’m not into incestuous relationships.”

“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly. 

He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you. 

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© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[witchyafterdark]

— Ominis Gaunt Headcanons; pt. 3

• The Pros and Cons of being with him •

This post has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time now, and was supposed to be the second installment of my previous post about Sebastian! Nevertheless, here it is. I've thought about this one a little bit harder than the other since it's my boy Ominis. All photos used are not mine, and all credits to their respective owners.

・❥・ PROS

He is the most empathetic, compassionate, thoughtful, and caring man you'll ever be with.

Most people need to be taught how to have compassion towards others, or that an example needed to be shown in order for them to learn. But with Ominis, this is something inborn. Empathy is nestled deep inside his bones, and it will be very difficult for anyone to make him act out of alignment from his true caring nature.

He is tremendously protective of you, and by extension, those you consider very close to you.

One of the many ways he demonstrates his devotion to you is by means of providing you with protection. Understandably, he knows that you aren't some damsel who needs help all the time. That's why he discreetly protects you when you need it the most; which are during the times you do not see the danger you're about to encounter, or are already in the midst of.

Quite ironic, he sees certain social situations leagues ahead of you, given his aristocratic upbringing, and can definitely read between the lines of people's intentions toward you. He will immediately step in — with practiced grace mixed with lethality — and eradicate any threat that looms over you before you even begin to notice anything amiss.

By extension, he is also very attuned to your emotional states, physical needs, and mental processes.

You wouldn't have to worry about being with someone who doesn't know how to understand you in ways you want to be understood because that couldn't be further from the truth with Ominis. One of the factors that make him a good partner is that he would actually get to know you before being with you. He took the time to learn your patterns and behaviors, and he genuinely studied you thoroughly in hopes of doing right by you.

Therefore, being in a relationship with him means he truly knows he can be a good match for you, as he doesn't want to waste both of your time. He understands when you're stressed, and would do anything in his power to alleviate your pains. And he knows when to step back and give you your personal space to figure things out by yourself.

Surprisingly, he has a mischievous and adventurous spirit in his heart, and he knows how to keep the fun alive between you two.

Being born blind, he has been told endlessly by his punitive family that he would most likely amount to nothing in his life without their illustrious influence and infamous reputation. But ever the rebel, Ominis wanted to prove to himself that their words hold no significance in his ability to live life to the fullest. To your pleasant surprise, he is much more lively and playful once you truly get to know him and he lets go of all his defenses! He isn't Anne and Sebastian's oldest friend for nothing; he knows a plethora of ways to rebel, bask in the moments of fun and adventure, and get into the occasional mischief to feed the need for a little adrenaline rush. Most people would probably consider him a boring and rigid person to be with, but he's just waiting for the right one to share the joy and happiness with.

Ominis is one of the bravest and most loyal people you'll ever get the chance to be with, whether for friendship or romantic relationship. You'll get to enjoy certain... perks of being with him. And he's more than willing to ensure your comfort and satisfaction as his partner.

Simply put, he has no qualms in waving his family name around to protect and preserve the peace around him — and that includes making sure you're safe, unbothered, and given the same special privileges as he has. Rest assured that once he made up his mind that he wants to be with you, you wouldn't have to worry if he's thinking of anybody else besides you. Everyone will know that he is yours, but most importantly, everyone will know you're his. and he's not embarrassed to say he is with you. In fact, he revels in it; albeit, more privately. While he does want people to know that he is off the market, he loathes the notion of people getting to know what goes on with your relationship with him. He's still a private person at the end of the day.

Behind closed doors, he is the most affectionate, touchy, and loving man you'll ever know.

Ominis is the kind of person that is sensitive to the energies of other people. He is sensitive like that, and for good reason. He can "read" the room perfectly without the need for sight. And so, he would definitely know simply by the sound of your heavy footsteps that you've had a tiring, rough day. Wordlessly, he would have the initiative to cook dinner for you, prepare you a hot bath, not forgetting to lay your night clothes on your bed, and caressing your hair to send you to sleep as you lay secure in his warm embrace at night. He also knows when you just need time alone to be by yourself, and tend to your own needs without him in the picture.

Nevertheless, you wouldn't even think of him as someone that needs to be "coached" into being a good partner — he has that naturally built into his personality.

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

・❥・ CONS

Due to his unstable upbringing, he is actually the most possessive person you've ever met... worse that Sebastian.

It is known that Ominis is a very closed-off person. He is very difficult to win over, let alone befriend and to romance. When he was a child, every family connection his father had made was exploited to the bone. Those people would unwittingly feel honored to be acquainted to the Gaunts that they would most likely do anything to win their favor. Ominis' father once taught him that the people around him was supposed to obey him out of respect for their ancient, noble lineage.

Therefore, once Ominis lets you into his life, he unconsciously views you as his possession; someone that must remain in his life, unless he deems otherwise.

During arguments, he would not back down, and would sound punitive at times.

Having to fight for his life — quite literally — at the hands of his cruel family, Ominis has learned that using his words can equally be as destructive as combative magic. His usual sarcastic quips are one of his normal defense mechanisms. But if you're engaged in an argument with him, especially when he knows he is right, best believe he will not hold back. You will get your feelings and pride and dignity hurt. He will lay out the truth no holds barred. He will make you understand why he knows best, and that you should just listen.

After what happened during fifth year with Sebastian, he's had absolutely enough with giving people the benefit of the doubt. Once he made up his mind about a certain topic, good luck trying to change his mind now.

If you are rumored to have been getting closer to another man, best believe he will be taken care of as soon as possible. You won't see that man ever again. (He isn't a Gaunt for nothing).

As far as he's concerned, the only type of friends you need in your life are those he knows of; Poppy Sweeting, Natsai Onai, and perhaps even Imelda Reyes. Sebastian can be part of your circle but even that he is wary of. But if he so hears about other men trying to be close to you (even as your relationship with him is already public knowledge), or you're in the process of entertaining the possibility of being with other men, he will get them out of the picture by the end of the week.

He is not afraid of twisting the truth, fabricating lies and offenses that those men seemingly committed, and falsifying being a witness to a breach of magical protocol just to send them on their merry way. You'll be confused as to how and why these men just keep on getting questioned by magical authorities but you'll be none the wiser about his involvement.

Speaking of, no matter how hard he tries to undo all the conditioning he was put through as a child, his Gaunt tendencies tend to rear its ugly head when he feels out of control, or threatened in any way.

This one is something he does not want you to know. It's one of his deepest, darkest secrets that he tries to bury underneath his caring and compassionate efforts of becoming a better man. Some days, it truly gets the best of him, especially when he perceives that he is not being taken seriously, or that things around him are getting out of control. Being someone without sight (that is also a Gaunt), having absolute control of his surroundings is something he needs to feel safe and secure. Without it, it's as if he is wandless — holding his hands up in front of him like when he was a helpless child.

And so, if he perceives petulance on your part, in spite of him exercising patience, he will resort to intimidation and manipulation. He doesn't need to exert physical force to make you understand exactly what he is capable of if you keep up with your actions.

(There's a reason why Dominis is a thing to begin with. People know he is capable of it!)

Once you're with him, there's no backing out. He won't allow it. You are his.

When you agreed to accept his courtship, he understood it as a mutual agreement that this is not something casual in nature. You are not with him to waste his time, as he wouldn't want to waste yours. The decision to court you was not made on a whim. He realizes the potential of a great and fruitful romantic partnership with you. Therefore, in his mind, you need to validate his assumptions about you. You need to prove that he was right about you.

Of course, he will subtly guide you through the stages of your relationship in order to fit his narrative as he intended. He will mold you to be the person of his dreams, and will give you whatever you want that is within his power. You'd do well to be grateful and acknowledge that through your cooperation.

And if you ever break his heart by being with someone else behind his back, he will make sure you will pay for it... one way or another.

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

So, do the pros outweigh the cons for you?

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi. Could you please write some Gambit fluff headcannons? The Gambit Nation is struggling right now and we could all really use some fluffiness from the man himself.

Btw I'm absolutely OBSESSED with your writing. Like, seriously amazing.

Gambit/GN!Reader

I Know you sent this in forever ago after that one godforsaken episode of 97' and I'm so sorry I'm just now getting to it!!! It's been sitting in my drafts for forever and I've just been struggling to come up with fluff hcs! TBH, It started as general fluff and not a whole ass storyline and eventually i just got too far deep to stop! This isn't even as fluffy as I was quite expecting, but once i started writing it just came out and atp I couldn't stop. It's been a rough night, but this really just turned Into being Remy's comfort person HCs.

TWs: rocky family life mentioned. Sneaking out, underage drinking, so on. Smooth timeskip to adulthood. very much fluffy with a lil bit of somber tones. Not enough to be angst tho.

Think about being Teens with Remy Lebeau. The late nights, sneaking out, ranting to each other in the streets and alleyways of New Orleans.

Getting into fights with your parents/guardians or siblings and wanting nothing more than to just shrivel up and disappear. Curling up underneath your blankets with a pillow wrapped around your ears trying to just block out all of the bad thoughts when you keep hearing a persistent Tap, Tap, Tap. And then a much more obvious pop! Against your window.

You know who it is before you even unwrap yourself from the comfort of your bed, opening your window with a lot less energy than you usually have. You're tired and sad, but the face of that Cajun boy your parents don't like always makes you smile.

The red-eyed teen's smirk falls when he sees the rough state you're in, right before ducking back behind the trashcan when a light turns on in your parent's bedroom. Eventually, it turns back off again, and by the time he's back on the sidewalk you're ready to go. He helps you out of the window much more gentlemanly than a thief and a scoundrel probably should, but he's nothing if not a sweetheart. (And a loverboy, but you wouldn't realise it then.)

"Ah, hell wit' them. S'not like they worth your time anyway." Remy's got an arm wrapped around your shoulders, a beer in hand as the two of you lean against the wall of a particular mausoleum. -Course, you had offered whatever ghosts has resided there the first sip as a courtesy, so you're definitely not cursed, right? Not that Remy was even worried about that, but he puts up with your superstitions to comfort you.

"Don't say that, please." You whisper, rubbing your tired eyes. He frowns, knowing that he wouldn't know the first ting about how "normal" families work, but he doesn't quite get why you worry about what they think so much.

"I don't get why you stay, Cher. Not when they treat you like this." You can feel the rumble of Remy's voice through his chest, and find yourself tucking yourself closer into his side. He sets his head on top of yours when you do so.

"What other choice do I have? They're my parents." You whisper, fidgeting with some strings at the hem of your sweatshirt. In hindsight, maybe wearing pajamas to a graveyard wasn't the best choice. You hear Remy chuckle after a moment as a thought crosses his mind, and he swirls the bottle slowly, a few times, before he hands it to you.

"Well..." He starts, giving the words a moment to rest. "There is one option..." You take the bottle from him, cocking a eye as you sit up a little bit to look at him.

"And what's that?"

"Run away wit' me."

He's smirking when he suggests it, a playfulness in his eyes. If only you knew just how serious he was.

"Remy LeBeau!" You scold, unable to fight back your smile as he chuckles at you.

"What? S'not a bad idea, no? No thieves guild, no drama, Jus' you an me." He laughs when you give him an incredulous look and take a dramatic sip from the beer, only to make a face at the taste directly afterwards. Damn, was it rancid.

"Don't get me dreaming, Remy." You mumble. There's only a little bit left it the bottle, and you decide it's better suited for the graveyard. Remy complains about it, trying to fight you for the rest of the beer. The two of you are a couple of idiots to be laughing this loud in a place like this, and even bigger ones to start play-fighting, but neither of you really mind.

You were each other's safe space. The one person the other could run to as the world falls apart around them. Life as a teen was never easy, especially not when you're mutants- but at least you had each other. But as his life was being consumed with the thieves guild, and the prophesy that came with it, you saw less and less of Remy as the years went by.

When you did meet again, it was under the roof of one Professor Xavier. The others were nervous and distrustful about this ex-con entering the team, but you never doubted him for a second. Your person was finally right where you needed him once again. Your Remy. And as smooth as he is around the team, you knew it was a wall, almost an act. Something to befriend the others- but you knew Remy, and you were grateful that after all the years that had passed, he still came to you when he needed you the most.

"Long day?" You ask. Remy hums in response, plopping down onto the bed next to you. You set your book to the side when he rests his head in your lap, soothingly running your hands through his hair as he sighs in content.

"You know it, ma chérie." Remy says in your lap. You can't help but blush at the name still, despite how many years he's spent calling you by the words. Remy's eyes are closed beneath you, giving you the freedom to fully take in the features of his handsome face whilst keeping him unawares. His stubble is growing in, and he's got a few new freckles and scars from your years seperated, but he's still the same wild, reckless kid you fell in love with as a teen. He hums as you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones, catching your hand and pressing it to his lips, leaving a kiss there. He then kisses your inner wrist before holding your hand to his face.

You still don't really know what to say when he does things like that.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask after a moment.

" 'Course, Cher."

"Would you still wanna run away with me?" When the last words leave your mouth, you can feel Remy frown. His eyes open about halfway, your hand still in his hold as he presses it to his face.

"What brought this on?" He asks, and you only shrug, looking away from him as your thumb idly strokes his face.

"I dunno. I was just thinking about it." His skin on your own is starting to feel too warm, your nerves becoming unignorable. Remy cocks an eyebrow at you, before he smiles. Not a smirk, a real, genuine, smile. He takes your chin in his hand, and moves your head so that you're looking at him again.

"If you needed me to run away with you, Belle, I'd do so without looking back." His words make you smile brightly, holding onto the wrist of the hand that holds your chin. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, but Remy moves. He sits up just slightly, and before you know it, Remy Lebeau's lips are pressed against yours in a sweet kiss.

Remy chuckles at the surprised face you're making when he pulls back, sitting up a little further so that he can press his forehead to your own, leaning into your space.

"You' always known me to be an opportunist, Cher. Can't help but steal a kiss here an there." Remy says, and your laugh is partly from disbelief, surprise, and outright giddy joy.

"Please tell me you haven't been waiting to say that since we were kids." You ask. Remy smiles brightly in return.

"My poker face 'not good enough for you, huh, ma chérie?."

[megthemewlingquim]

love's perfect ache

Summary: Your husband wants nothing more than to love you breathless.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Warnings: smut! Matt is a soft dom (that alone deserves a warning); fingering, multiple orgasms (one somewhat forced but it is not non-con); dirty talk

A/N: Holy shit. So. A lot of things have happened since I last posted. Some of these things include but are not limited to

a) I have been seeing someone romantically for a year and four months

b) I'm graduating with my Bachelor's Degree in Education in May.

c) I've been Student Teaching full time in order to graduate, so I haven't been able to write.

However, these last three days have given me a spark of madness. I first started this draft a little less than a year ago, and only now have I finished it.

This fic is based off of... personal experience. ;) I hope you like it.

The clatter of plates and silverware jumps through the apartment. The smell of shrimp scampi still lingers in the air, though the windows have been opened and the leftovers have been put in the fridge.

Matt leans his arm over the back of the couch as he sits down, relaxing into his seat. A small part of him wants to go back to you, the remarkable woman behind him who had insisted on doing the dishes and taking care of the leftovers yourself. “Go sit and be handsome,” you’d said, kissing his shoulder. “I can manage it.”

Oh, you.

You never like asking for help, or accepting it when it is given. Not that you think you’re above it, but because you don’t want to trouble anyone else with anything.

He doesn’t love that, but he loves you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, toying with the ring on his finger.

“Yeah?” you ask from behind the counter.

“Mm, nothing,” he mutters. “Was just thinking ‘bout you.”

The hum of amusement you give him is a common little sound. One of quiet acknowledgement. It’s almost like you’re numb to what he’s telling you.

Selfless, as always.

The sound reminds him of more intimate times between you two. Sighs, moans, squeaks, breathless laughs and barely audible whines. All from you. And then, he thinks of what you say to him sometimes, when he offers to do certain things.

“It’s alright, baby, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t need to finish. It’s okay. I’m too tired.”

“Honey, I’m good. I promise. You don’t have to do anything.”

Matt snaps back to the current moment. His heart hurts.

In the two years that you’ve been married, you’ve had a bit of trouble; not only with accepting help or kind words or generous gifts of affection, but with accepting pleasure too, pleasure that Matt so willingly wants to give to you. He knows about that, how you find it difficult to fathom the love he has for you and the ways he wants to express it.

Yes, you’ve discussed your kinks and your turn-offs with him. You’ve been intimate, and you’ve enjoyed it immensely. But you’ve never quite gotten to where he wants you, to where you should be.

You deserve pleasure, and you don’t see it.

Matt’s jaw clenches.

“Honey?” he asks. “You good?”

“Yup!” you chirp. “Just putting the last pan away."

“Ok.”

Thirty seconds pass. He hears you, in that time, put the last pan into the lazy-susan cabinet and wipe down the counter one last time. Then, you step away from the kitchen and sit next to him on the couch with a sleepy little mumble.

“Everything okay?” Matt asks softly, leaning in to nuzzle into your neck. He leaves a feather-light kiss there.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Everything’s… good.”

“I have an idea,” he mumbles into your skin, his hand trailing up your thigh. “And I need to know what you think about it.”

“What are you thinking?” you ask, a hint of a smile in your voice.

“Well, I was thinking… that we could… have some fun.” Matt grins.

You breathe outward, silently, your breath heavy and shuddered, as his lips trail to the back of your neck and he bites into the flesh.

“I’d like that,” you say.

“I wasn’t finished. We have some fun… but I spend the night just… letting you feel everything. I want to make you come, sweetheart. A lot, if I’m honest.”

He can hear the sharp inhale — quiet but noticeable — and how your heartbeat picks up almost instantly. His grin widens. “I want to spoil you tonight. All I want you to do is lay on the bed and be your beautiful self. I’ll do the rest.”

“I — um — ” you stammer, “you don’t have to do that — ”

“Uh uh.” Matt shakes his head. “None of that now. I want to do this. You don’t see how much you deserve this, honey. What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“ ‘m not afraid… just…”

“Just?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re too damn humble for your own good, you know?”

You shrug.

“Baby, look at me,” Matt says softly. When he knows you have done so, he says, “If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to. But I’ve noticed it. I just wanna give my girl what she deserves. Will you let me do that? Even just for tonight?”

It takes a good ten seconds for you to give him the slightest sound of approval. A tiny little “uh huh,” close to a whisper, but he can hear it.

“That’s my girl,” he says, grinning.

Matt carries you to bed bridal-style, shutting the door behind him with the back of his foot, and sits you on the edge of the bed.

He starts by just kissing you; your lips, your cheeks. Softly, gently, with both hands coming up to your jawline and your neck, thumbs swiping your cheeks and temples.

His affection is always, always welcomed. You have never felt safer than when you are in his arms — those same arms that are often covered in bruises and scratches and blood, those same arms that drop snitches from buildings and punch the daylights out of bad guys. You have never felt safer.

His hands fall down to your chest, your waist, lightly applying pressure or squeezing gently. You're in the warm embrace of someone who could break you, and the fact that he chooses to treat you with such delicate care makes your heart swell and your chest ache with such love — and this turns you on even more.

Matt treasures you. Cherishes you.

He sighs into the kisses he gives. “You have no idea how much you turn me on,” he says, his voice low. “You know that?” He moves his head up and kisses your forehead; his lips linger there for a while. “And you don’t even realize it… you don’t realize that I get off by making you feel good.”

What Matt has just said to you doesn’t register fully until he’s already laid you down onto the bed, gently pushing you down with his right hand. He straddles you, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. “You beautiful, wonderful, lovely girl.” He leans down, kissing your clothed chest and your stomach before shuffling your pants off of you.

He gets in between your legs, sitting on the bed sideways but still facing you. You’re wearing black boyshorts, the comfiest pair you own. Matt’s favorite. He likes imagining how the black would look on you, and how the cloth would hug your hips.

His hand gently strokes the crotch of your underwear, the pressure sending sparks up your privates. It’s so much different, you think, to have someone else’s hand there rather than your own.

“You smell so good,” he mutters, in that tone of voice, and you know that he’s not talking about the vanilla eau de parfum you put on every day. No, he’s talking about a different scent you give off.

You flush, embarrassed, crossing your legs and putting your face in your hands. His hand stays where it was, unmoving, between your legs.

A finger moves, right over your clit, and you twitch.

“None of that,” Matt whispers. “No hiding today. I want to see your pretty face.”

“You can’t see,” you whimper through your hands.

“When has that ever stopped me?” he says, and you know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. “Come on,” he coaxes, “take your hands off your face.”

You don’t move. “Matty…”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, sweetie.” A finger moves on your clit again and you gasp. “You’re so beautiful. Every part of you. Even the parts you’re insecure about…”

When you say nothing, he moves his finger again and you twitch at the shock it gives you. “I’m not gonna do anything else until you take your hands off your face,” he says, and you know he’s serious.

Matt’s finger moves for the third time and that’s when you remove your hands. His little chuckle sends shivers down your back.

“There,” he says, “there’s my pretty girl. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

His hand, quick as a bullet, goes into your underwear and cups your pussy, adding pressure again. A strangled sound comes out of you and you cover your mouth. Matt chuckles again, and coos at you, "Aww, what? What's making you so shy? You know I love hearing you."

The teasing is too much now, but you can't seem to get over your shyness. You whimper into your hand, moving your hips to try and get some more friction. It works, but only for a second. Matt immediately notices what you're doing and he draws his hand away again.

"What do you need, baby?"

"Ffffingers."

Matt nods and shuffles you out of your underwear.

Slowly, he puts a finger in you, keeping his eyes lowered and concentrating on your feel, your sounds. The relieved sigh is all he needs, and he stays where he is, knuckle deep inside you. He doesn't move it yet, and instead, he chooses to feel you clench around his finger to no avail.

"So warm," he says, "so warm and wet."

You flush, embarrassed at that. For no reason at all, you've been self-conscious about that part of you, and how it looks, smells, tastes. You turn your head and try to keep yourself away from the praise he's giving you.

Matt tsks. "None of that now. It's beautiful, honey. You're so beautiful."

"M-Matt," you whimper, "no."

"Yes," he says, and starts to move his finger. In and out, slow and steady. The burn and stretch is a welcome one, but you start to feel something else. Almost like a wall, a barrier to your pleasure. You can't come without that wall being torn down.

"Can — can you get the vibrator, please?"

"It's been a while since you've asked for what you want." Matt grins. "That's a good girl, hm? Of course, I can."

He moves, pulling his finger out of you and getting off the bed. He opens the nightstand drawer next to the bed and pulls out a magenta colored vibrator.

Matt gets back on the bed and puts his finger in you again. The wall comes back once he starts moving his finger again, but this time he puts the vibrator in your clit and presses a button. It buzzes to life, only on the lowest setting, but it's enough.

The wall comes down and all you feel is pleasure. You sigh, relieved. The vibrator is a nice distraction from the stretch.

"There you go," Matt says quietly. "Just feel that, honey. I've got you."

I've got you.

The reassurance that Matt gives you is both comforting and sexy. You like being submissive, and you like being taken care of. More than anything, you like being taken care of by the man who made his vows, before God and the world, to be your husband for the rest of your lives.

You melt into the bed as he continues to make love to you. Subspace is setting in and your mind goes fuzzy. You wouldn't normally describe yourself as a pillow princess, but here, right now... you are. And that's what Matt wants.

He smiles, shushes you gently, and this hurls you down into subspace even more. "Such a good girl," he whispers, "always so good to me. Just let me take care of you."

And with that, you're gone. Completely vulnerable, giving yourself over to Matt. And he finds it so lovely. so beautiful, how much you trust him.

"I think what you need is a little more... maybe right here — "

His fingers do something else, they go lower and deeper. Immediately, you feel like you're being punched in the stomach, but the sensation itself is far from painful. You can't stop yourself this time; you moan, a choked sound, and you bury your head to the side and into your pillows. Dear God, if Matt keeps this up, you're not gonna last much longer.

"There," he says, his voice low but filled with warmth, keeping his fingers moving right there, in and out, "that's what you need, hm? I know, honey, I know."

Matt knows you. He knows you, inside and out, body and soul. He knows your laugh, your smile, your voice, your smells. He knows how you moan, how you shiver, twitch and gasp. He knows what makes you tick. He knows how you come, what you need to get there. There's nothing more comforting — or sexy — than that.

You're unbelievably tense - your entire body is stiff, coming close to that edge. Matt can feel it, simply on his fingers, but he can hear it, too: the way your breath hitches and the way your moans increase, both in frequency and in pitch. He can feel your blood flowing, he can hear your heartbeat increase, feel how warm your skin has become. He notices all of these things, and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing in the world. A small part of him is still regretful that he cannot see, but only because... oh, what he wouldn't give to see your face.

"Matty," you whimper, "M-Matty, I'm cc-close. I'm so close—"

He loves hearing that desperation in your voice. You're starting to move around, turning and panting, almost in an attempt to get away from the pleasure that's sure to overtake you in a few moments. He can sense how tight your eyes are closed, how dry your mouth has become from all the sounds - oh, the beautiful sounds - that you're making, how tightly your fists are clenched, and where your arms are going. You don't seem to know exactly what to do with your hands. A few times, it looks like you debate whether to hide your face again, but you don't do that.

"M-Matty!"

And he knows, then, that you're peaking, that the orgasm has already begun and you're just on the edge of letting go, letting it completely overtake you. You've given yourself completely to him, and you're at his mercy.

And the Devil of Hell's Kitchen does have mercy, believe it or not.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he whispers, with such gentle fondness and delight that you have no choice but to obey.

You're gone, your body in flames and filled with electric sparks. Fireworks.

The sound that comes from you then is the most beautiful sound Matt has ever heard. He's heard it before, and he will never get tired of it. It's a sound of release, of letting go... a cry of pleasure, almost a guttural scream and a shuddered breath all at once. It's an orgasmic wail or sometimes it is even a period of silence where you are just completely lost in the agonizing ecstasy of it all.

You're coming, and you're coming hard... He always knows what to do or say to make that happen. When he married you, he made a vow to himself to always make you feel like the most satisfied woman in the world. It's always a reward when this happens, when he can hear and feel you like this.

It's a long one, he realizes, because you gasp and shiver and twitch and spasm and cry out in surprise as the waves of pleasure keep rushing over you. He laughs, then, a small amused chuckle that leaves you even more breathless than you already are. Matt delights in making you feel this way. If he could go down on his knees and beg God Almighty to let him do this forever, he would.

"Oh, that's it," he coos, "that's my girl."

His praise, combined with the continued moving of his fingers - shouldn't they be getting sore by now? - only makes your orgasm last longer. Once it begins to fade, your body relaxes and you breathe out a sigh of contentment and warmth. Your eyes remain closed - and it's probably a good thing, because the way Matt is looking at you now would be enough to kill you with how loving it is The aftershocks of your orgasm - little jolts of pleasure - start to course through you.

"That was beautiful," he mutters to himself. "I think I want another from you."

You eyes snap open. "Honey," you mumble.

"What?" he asks gently. "I know you can." His hands are moving now, all across your body in an attempt to soothe you. You look down and see the tent in his pants: he's never been so hard in the years that you've known him.

"You need help with that?" you ask with a smile, sitting up. By the direction that your voice is going, he knows what you're talking about.

"No, no, no," he says, using a hand to push you back onto the bed. "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't."

"Yes," Matt kisses your chest, "you were."

"I can't come again."

"Yes, you can." Matt clicks the vibrator on again and, before you can move away, puts it on your clit.

Your whole body seizes up, your clit goes numb, and all you can feel is good, but too good. Your mind blanks. You shriek out a sound of surprise and pleasure and agony, your body instantly trying to get away. It's too much, you're too sensitive, but he won't let up. He holds you down, shushing you again as you let out little cries and sobs and moans. Your body convulses, twitching in his grasp.

"Shh, shh, baby... I got you. Remember that. You're alright."

"MattMattMatt — I can't!"

"Yes, you can," he says again, firmer this time, but laughs as you try to get away. "Just hang on a little longer, you'll feel good again. Your body is already adapting to it. You're okay."

And of course, it's true. Your body is already getting used to it. Your sobs die down and now, the pleasure is bearable. Extremely good, actually. Your moans are weak, your eyebrows are furrowed, and your eyes are shut again. The convulsions are stopping, and now all you can do is feel it all again.

"That's it, bubba," Matt says, "see? I know you can handle it."

He puts two fingers inside you, slowly, and the burn is less uncomfortable now. A guttural sound leaves you again as you're filled up, and once Matt starts moving again, you tense up immediately. Two fingers and a vibrator are a recipe for an extremely quick orgasm, and you both know it.

"Baby," you whisper.

"What?" he coos. "Is my girl close already?"

"Nnngh," is all you can reply back. "Mm hmm."

"That's what I wanted," Matt says quietly, triumphantly. "You don't have to say anything anymore. Just feel it."

It doesn't take much longer for you to get close to coming again. Especially when Matt begins to drive his fingers into you harder, faster. You can't even speak anymore; all you can do is vocalize; moan, whimper, gasp. And you know that Matt is having the time of his life. One of the first things he ever said to you about things like this was that he'd get off by getting you off, and that has always stuck with you.

Your legs start to quiver.

You peak again, sobbing out a high pitched whine. The feeling is strong now, like an unstoppable force is meeting an immovable object. Your body is tense, unbelievably so, and the pleasure keeps building, but it never crests. It never reaches that point. That's the trouble of having one orgasm after another. It's hard to come. "MMMatt, pplease, please, p —"

"Shh," Matt says again with a grunt, "don't worry. We'll get you there. Relax as much as you can. Remember, I'll take care of you." You try your best to relax your body but it's still a bit difficult. All the while, Matt is practically shoving his fingers into you now, relentlessly, and you start to hear noises down there that send your mind reeling. Your back arches.

"You fuckin' hear that?" Matt's sudden vulgarity is a surprise. He's ravenous. "Oh, you want it, don't you?" He hoists a leg over your own to keep you from moving. "You're so close. Stay here, don't run away from me."

He pauses, but his fingers keep moving. "I'll get some restraints later."

After a few more seconds, it finally hits. You crest, your orgasm starting again, and all you can shriek is a simple, "Oh, oh Jesus — "

"Just come," Matt says quietly. It contrasts heavily with the way he's ramming his fingers into you. "Don't do anything else. Just come. Let go. Let go, let go, let go — "

And, with the encouragement comforting you, what else can you do but do as he says? You're stuck in place and your mind is mush. You come with another wail, this one stronger and more primal than the first, louder too, and you see stars behind your eyelids. Your leg is shaking, and if your other one could move, it would, too. Your clit is warm, almost numb again, and your arms are quivering above his head. The sounds from your privates get more intense, and Matt grunts in exertion. You don't know anything anymore, you can't think or speak. All you can do is feel, and that's exactly what Matt wanted from the start.

You're sure Matt's senses are overloaded. Sound, smell, taste, feel. He can hear how desperate and overtaken you are, he can smell and taste your arousal and sweat in the air, and he can feel your quivers and shakes and your tightness. He's rock hard now, and it probably hurts a little, but he doesn't care. You're all that's on his mind and once again he wishes that he could only see your face in this moment.

"Oh, look at you," Matt praises, slowing his fingers now. You're a mess, a beautiful, satiated mess. There are tears in your eyes and sweat on your brow. Your hair is tangled and unkept, and your knuckles hurt from how hard you've been clenching your fists. It's amazing how this is only from a fingering, but you needed this. You wanted this, as shy as you were to admit it. You pant, weakly, your legs completely unable to move. You're jelly, practically limp, and you twitch and shudder as the last of the aftershocks hit you.

"Can I put it in now?"

You shriek and Matt laughs, falling beside you and immediately wrapping his arms around you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, baby." He kisses your forehead and cradles your head to him. "Such a good girl," he says, "you did such a good job. I'm so proud of you."

You swallow, and the saliva is a welcome sensation on your dry throat. "I think... I'll call off of work tomorrow," you pant. "Holy hell, Matty."

"Careful," Matt says, "if you do that, I won't be able to stop myself from doing this all over again once you wake up."

"I'm in danger," you say with a breathless laugh. "Just be gentle, okay?"

"Of course," he says, "always. I'm so happy that you allowed me to do that. It's been a while since you've given in that much. You don't know how hot it is to me when you let go like that."

You look down and see the tent in Matt's pants again. "Do you want me to take care of that now?"

"When you're half asleep already? I'm good, honey. That will go away eventually. But it'll be there in the morning, waiting for you. And I may or may not slip out in a few hours and get some restraints from the sex shop later. You may or may not wake up with your arms and legs tied to the bed. Just be warned."

It isn't long before you slip into sleep, completely exhausted but satiated and happy. And while you sleep, you can still feel Matt's lips on your forehead, and you think you can hear a small, "I love you, sweetheart," too.

[giamee]

🧩 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

STARRING. ノ geto ✦ gojo ✦ choso

summary. ノ as a princess, you need a knight to keep both your body and heart safe from harm. luckily, he's got that covered.

word count. ノ 6.6k

contains. ノ royalty!au, princess!reader x knight, some suggestive content but nothing explicit, fem coded reader bc princess

gia's notes. ノ this draft has been sitting at the VERY bottom of my notes but i've finally dug it up and blown the dust off of it hehe. i have more ideas for this premise so if anyone asks i'll do a part two. eagerly.

GETO SUGURU ⌇ despite his politeness, there's more to him that lies below the surface

when you first met geto suguru, the most prominent thought in your mind was just how surprisingly pretty he was to be a mere knight. his delicate features and unblemished face seemed more fitting to be that of a nobleman's, and when he kneeled to you to swear his loyalty, his every movement was dictated with a gracefulness that suggested he was born royal.

always smiling, always alert, always vigilant, geto now accompanied you in your daily life like a second shadow. and while there had been... admittedly few attempts on your life, you chalked that up to his talent rather than a lack of conspiracy.

you had asked him one night when you had sneaked too much drink during a feast and you were too loose-lipped on your way back to your chambers, why his face was so handsome if he was just a knight.

he had merely laughed at your drunken question, readjusting his grip on you as he half-carried, half-guided you back.

"i'm handsome because nobody's been able to lay a finger on me."

you were quite fond of him, beyond his ability to keep you safe. you may be naive but you weren't stupid- you knew how others looked at the pair of you, how scandalous it was for the princess and her handsome knight to be so close with each other, in public at that.

it was incredibly apparent at balls and other royal events- ever so cumbersome, but still a requirement- that you always made sure to drag geto along to, no matter the security detail. and if you had personally ensured that he wears clothing befitting of a royal, and more importantly matched your gown every time, who wouldn't jump to conclusions?

in all honesty, you liked the attention it drew to the pair of you. you revelled in the glances shot your way, zeroed in on your hand looped around his arm or the way his encircled your waist, looking more like a courtier than a bodyguard.

you liked how the other women of the court looked at you with not just disgust, but with jealousy, because you knew that they certainly knew that geto suguru is a very handsome man. and no matter how much they stare, the fact that he was firmly attached to you would never change.

and if they hated you, let them come. geto would keep you safe, anyway.

whilst you were more than happy to live life as you were (the same as always with no real responsibility), the world continued its course, and you found yourself being suddenly thrust into something that you never imagined would happen this soon- a removal of your freedom.

that wasn't its official title, of course. a marriage proposal is what it had been presented to you as. to some poncey prince from a neighbouring kingdom in the name of keeping peace and good relations with neighbours- it was enough to make you feel sick.

you remembered ranting about it to geto that night in your bedchambers- yes, he was in them whether it was permissible or not- him merely chuckling at your rage while leaning against one of the walls, watching as you paced the room, waving your arms fervently to accentuate your frustration.

"relax, your highness. you'll still have me, after all." his words have an effect on you, admittedly, and it's comforting to find some constancy in him.

on nights where you let your imagination take over, it's quite easy to imagine him as a prince, one who courts you and you fall for and eventually marry- a mere fantasy to escape from this world.

despite your wishes, despite the rumours, the royal engagement continues. you haven't even met your fiancé, yet the marriage is due to happen this spring- symbolising the fresh beginnings of this joyous union.

geto had been gracious enough to accompany you on your newly-developed habit of taking long walks around the castle in favour of sleeping. you might as well memorise every nook and cranny before you'd be forced out of here- kicking and screaming, no doubt.

despite geto's best efforts, the joy you once found from life in the castle was quickly draining, merely fluff to pad the days leading up to the inevitable date.

an arrangement to meet this prince in person was very quickly procured out of nowhere- you couldn't remember his name for the life of you- and you found yourself going through the motions of being even more dolled up for a special ball with little to no enthusiasm. there was once a time where you would be bursting with delight at the beauty looking back at you in the mirror, though now it felt like you were being trussed up in the same sense the cooks were preparing the roasted animals on golden platters for everyone to feast on.

you were just meant to look as appetising as possible. you felt like a prize cow. anything in the name of peace.

you heard someone clear their throat from behind you- your eyes flicked up to your mirror to see geto stood behind you, his gaze particularly soft. you smiled at his outfit, equally exquisite in its brocade and material as yours. a perfect pair.

"i know i say this every time i see you, but you look especially radiant tonight, your highness." and just like that, you're glad to be so dressed up.

"thank you, sir geto." his lips twitch at the official title, but he extends his arm out for you to take nonetheless. "you look very handsome yourself." his cheeks go a shade darker, barely noticeable. you see it, though.

"how could i manage without you?"

the ballroom was decorated even more lavishly in commemoration of tonight- a decadent gold being the setting for this glorious occasion. you hoped that the prince would live up to the grandeur. or at the very least, not be completely hideous to look at. he'd never look as good as geto.

there were a lot of formal introductions. you always had hated curtsying, but the practice you were forced to endure paid off- you were nothing less than perfectly gracious as you met the officials of the neighbouring kingdom, and then, finally, the prince. he winked at you before kissing your hand and asking you to dance. you would rather dance with someone else.

at least the prince wasn't ugly. with the way he looked at you, though, you had to try not to let your nose wrinkle in disgust as you read the lechery in his eyes. was this really who you would be bound to 'til death do you part?

he stank of wine as the two of you danced. you were surprised that he wasn't toppling over, with the way that his words were already slurring. you tried your best to smile and nod along, though you couldn't help your eyes from wandering over his shoulder, settling on the figure of geto stood on the edge of the dancefloor.

you longed for him to be the one before you, and judging by the look on his face, it's what he would have wanted too. even jealousy looked good on him, his narrowed eyes and set jaw infinitely more handsome than the prince's leering one that you barely avoided as he lurched towards you, a little too close for this courtly dance.

geto jerked forwards at this, hands automatically settling on his sword. his eyes met yours, a silent plea to let it go exchanged before he begrudgingly relinquished his defensive stance. his little action still sent a thrill running through you nonetheless, something to cling to as an affirmation that he cared in more than a professional sense.

you let your thoughts wander as you danced, and you didn't do much to try and reel them back in. would it really be so bad to become wedded to a knight? it was unheard of, but there was a first time for everything, you supposed. you wouldn't mind no longer being a princess, as long as you were with him.

that realisation snapped you back to reality, just as the ending notes of the song played. your mandatory dance was over, and you curtsied to the prince before excusing yourself, weaving your way through the crowd of nobles until you reached the outskirts of the ballroom. your whole world felt like it had been tipped on its axis with this revelation, and even then you couldn't help but seek him out.

it was like an invisible force drew you together as you all but crashed into geto, him steadying you and immediately taking in the no doubt frenzied look in your eyes.

"are you alright, your highness?"

"i'm alright, just need to get some air."

geto nods dutifully, keeping hold of one of your arms as he navigates the crowd, slipping the both of you out of a side exit, the noise of the ballroom immediately drowning out as the door shut behind you.

"is that better, your highness?" your heart warmed at the genuine concern written over his face, and you nodded gratefully.

"much better."

the pair of you walk in silence for a few minutes, retracing the same routes of the castle that you had both become so accustomed to recently. it was comfortable to be with him, no matter the occasion.

"you know, i wish i could dance with you." it wasn't quite a confession, but it would do for now. geto paused for a second, and you saw him turn to look at you in the corner of your eye.

"there may be no music playing right now, but it would be an honour to have this dance, your highness." he bows down low, a mockery of etiquette, and you giggle before slipping your hand into his outstretched one. he's smiling as he straightens back up, his other hand curling around your waist with a gracefulness that would put the entire royal court to shame.

the dimly lit corridors became your private ballroom, and geto led you down them nimbly. another giddy laugh escaped you as he raised his arm, letting you twirl freely before bringing you close to him again.

it's a back and forth that you enjoy being led through, wondering to yourself just where he learnt to dance like this but not finding the heart to complain about it. it was a sweet moment amidst the growing realisation that this would most likely be ripped from you as you are forced to move to a different kingdom, away from everything that you've ever known. well, almost everything.

one particular turn has you stumbling ever so slightly, the questionable gap left between you and geto fully closing as your head collides with his chest. his arms instinctively protect you, effectively encasing you against him, leaving you to merely stare up at his face with a dumbfounded look on your face.

"your highness?"

he looked so much more handsome up close, and the torchlight cast shadows that only accentuated his features. you could count his eyelashes from here, feel the slight rise and fall of his chest against your own as you both leaned in ever so slightly- just a few more inches and your faces would be-

a noise from the end of the hallway distracts you, and your focus slips from the man before you to whatever lay behind him

you're horrified by what you see before you. it's that very prince, your fiancé, nestled in one of the darker corners castle, and he wasn't alone. your brain took a little longer to comprehend what was happening, but with the way the woman he was with was pressed up against the wall, caged in by his arms, and the little moans that echoed against the stony walls, it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"let's go." you sounded so robotic, a ringing in your ears making your voice sound a thousand miles away as you began to retrace your steps, taking you further away from the transgression you just saw. you were vaguely aware of geto talking to you, but your thoughts were too overpowering to properly process anything other than the rising tide of emotion quickly consuming you.

you could barely turn the next corner before you felt yourself start to break down, tears that you fought so hard to contain tracking down your face. even with your back to him, geto read you like a book, placing a hand on your shoulder in some sort of attempt to comfort you.

you took it as an invitation to turn around, burying your face in his chest and letting yourself properly cry as his arms wrapped around you, one rubbing circles on your back and the other petting your hair.

"i wish you were a prince, geto," you sobbed into his tunic. your knight merely chuckled, continuing to stroke your hair as he let you stain the expensive clothing with your tears.

"i do too, your highness." his tone is light, but you still detect the underlying sincerity. it doesn't do much to stop your tears, though, until you feel one of his hands cup your face. these hold more evidence of him being a knight, with rough callouses marring his otherwise flawless hands. his fingers brush back the strands of hair that have come loose from your elegant updo, lingering a moment too long.

"besides, why cry, your highness? you and i both know that your heart does not belong to him." his hand's still on your face, fingers now hooking underneath your chin, raising your gaze to meet his. his smile's coy, and you both can read between the lines of what he's saying. it had been rather obvious for a while now.

that your heart lay a lot closer to home. that maybe the rumours were right.

"you'll always have me."

GOJO SATORU ⌇ he's two whole years younger than you

officially, the title of royal knight carries a certain air of poise, of authority and grace that forces your spine a little straighter whenever you cross paths with them. but never did you think that this man would be the one entrusted with your life and safety in general.

you were more mature than him, and that's saying something. and despite his insistence on being one of the strongest, in your eyes he certainly didn't act like it. but if he was appointed as your personal bodyguard, then that must mean that he did something worthy enough to fulfil the role, right?

despite your slight doubts, you didn't actually have anything against him. on the contrary, you rather enjoyed his presence. he wasn't afraid to make himself known, and you much preferred the thought of him as an animate person than some silent looming shadow that mirrored your every step.

besides, he wasn't half bad to look at.

you especially liked it when he was in the mood to humour you and your questions, opening up a little about his life before becoming a knight- of the small village he used to live in, the beauty of life beyond the castle walls, and his stories intrigued you, invoking a childlike wonder that hadn't been piqued in years.

satoru had told you of one particular festival- a lantern ceremony to celebrate a bountiful autumn's harvest. it was one you had heard of, had seen always from a distance, the faint lights of hundreds of paper lanterns floating into the sky mere pinpricks that blend into the stars from your vantage point of the castle window.

he has a knack for storytelling, too- for better or worse. he spins gold with his tongue, painting a picture so lovely and vibrant that you are compelled to see it in person- whether it is as wondrous as the knight claims it to be.

and gojo has always been up for a challenge.

"satoru."

"princess y/n." he's amused, already knowing what your proposition will be before you utter another word.

"how good are you at keeping me safe?"

"incredibly, why?"

"i'd like you to take me to see this festival in person."

he had to decline at first- he had a duty to fulfil, after all- but you demand, you implore, you even beg in order to get him on board.

he was willing to do so the very first time you mention it, the gleam in his eye giving his true intentions away, but he plays along, getting a kick out of the desperation in your voice. you whine about how you are the princess and it's his job to do what you ask- and he laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat with an obliging "as you wish, your highness."

and thus begins your daring expedition to sneak out of the castle and back in completely undetected.

it's an operation carried out under the guise of night, the pair of you in cloaks and dressed inconspicuously. it's a simple plan, too. the gardens below your bedchamber's window is not a commonly patrolled area, and it's laughably easy for gojo to slip out of the window first and jump down the few metres until he lands on grass. he lands like it's nothing, smiling back up at you and motioning for you to join him.

it's a leap of faith, the crossing of a boundary as you swing your leg over the windowsill, feeling the fear kick in as you see just how high up you are. but you see gojo, too, his bright hair and eyes looking up at you encouragingly, and you swallow that fear.

"i'll catch you," he promises.

and he does. it's a soft landing, all things considered, as you land in his arms that are deceptively solid beneath you. you yelp as you fall- it couldn't be helped- but it's short-lived as you find yourself face to face with satoru.

he seems as equally stunned as you at the proximity of your faces, but the moment passes quickly for him, his signature practised grin coming back on to his face as he gently touches your feet to the ground.

"good to go, princess?" you nod, still reeling. he offers you an arm, half-joking, and you take it with a pleased smile.

gojo knows the castle grounds like the back of his hand- leading you to a concealed door in the outer wall, slipping through it like a shadow with you in tow. it wasn't until now that you saw him in his element, not sitting around like a lazy cat like he so often did in your presence.

he's more alert, alive, lithe body moving with purpose. it's nice to see him like this, without all of the bulky armour and constraints of the castle walls. the tension leaves him, his gait changing, and you feel the adrenaline course through your veins as the two of you officially make it outside of the castle.

you try to memorise every step you take, the way the ground feels against your shoes, the feeling of the breeze rushing unfiltered against your face. it's surreal, this taste of freedom, and you feel the urge to laugh like a maniac.

your hand slips from its grasp of gojo's bicep, letting you drift away from your knight in favour of pausing to squat down and inspect the brightly coloured flowers that grew on the path.

it was a mere tulip- nothing that you had ever seen before, the castle favouring more exotic species to showcase than some simple thing that you could pluck from the ground. but it was beautiful, all the same.

you felt gojo pause, letting you have your moment uninterrupted before you stand, beaming up at him.

"the outside world is very beautiful."

"indeed it is, princess. just wait until you see the lanterns up close."

it wasn't too far to reach his hometown, so he said. it was a comfortable walk, the terrain not too demanding. and finally, with the last stretch of land, you saw it.

"oh, wow."

if anything, satoru didn't do it justice in his stories. there's another element that you had never anticipated, of the music coursing throughout the town, breathing life into the people. everything was so much more colourful, more beautiful up close.

the closer you approach it, the more it comes into focus, and you don't try to hide your awe as you take in the surroundings. you don't turn your head to see the way your knight is smiling down at you, a soft look in his eyes.

and while it may make his job a pain sometimes, satoru's thankful that you're so oblivious to his surroundings and the ways he pines after you gone unnoticed. he had never exposed this part of himself before, the small nostalgic part of him that treasured unblemished memories of his childhood, now walking arm in arm with a princess and pointing out each little nook and cranny that he used to play in.

the pair of you finally make it to the inner part of the festivities, where there are countless stalls set up with all kinds of goods being sold. satoru stands back, letting you pour over each individual item, oohing and aahing as the vendors explain what they are.

you do this for... quite some time, until you settle upon a small jewellery stand. it was nothing like you had ever seen worn by nobles, fashioned out of colourful stones and leather cord instead of the gold and silver inlaid with precious gems. it intrigued you, the beautiful polished stone somehow being the most elegant thing you had ever laid eyes upon. and like a bloodhound, the lady running the stall sidled up to you and satoru.

"and for the beautiful couple, what can i interest you in?"

"oh, we-" you laugh, all pitchy as you get flustered, but satoru takes this in stride, simply wrapping his waist around you and pulling you closer together. he always had been one to toe the line.

"i think that my darling here had her eye on that necklace." he nods towards the very one that had caught your attention, you glancing at him in surprise, unaware that he even noticed such details. he merely winked in return as the lady beamed, taking it off its hook and holding it out to you.

"a fine choice, indeed! the rose quartz is said to bring luck to you in all romantic endeavours." you blush as you accept the necklace, satoru paying for it before you could get a single word in. he waved off any protests, merely taking the necklace from your hands before lifting it to fit around your neck.

his fingers brush against the soft skin at your nape, a little shiver rippling from it as he moved your hair onto one of your shoulders, out of the way of the cord.

"it looks beautiful on you." you try not to read into the sincerity emanating from his gaze, bowing your head graciously from the compliment before looping an arm around his, letting satoru guide you through the rest of the village.

you ended up in the main square, watching as some officials released the lanterns, how each one floated upwards until they became pinpricks in the sky. your gaze drifted towards the castle looming, and you felt some heaviness return to your heart.

the night had to come to an end, after all.

satoru sensed your shift in mood, offering a sympathetic smile before the pair of you trudged back, retracing your steps to return to your chambers without getting caught.

for a few minutes, before you properly laid down to rest, you caught yourself toying with the necklace, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face as you thought of the magical night with satoru, and his unseen side.

and as you woke up the next morning, the events of the past few hours were hard to see as more than a dream. but as you rise, you gaze at your reflection in the vanity next to your bed again, and you see the cord of the necklace still peeking out past the neckline of your nightgown.

there's a knock on your door, too, and you see your knight's face peek from around the corner.

"good morning, satoru."

"good morning, princess. did you sleep well?" there's a practised formality in his tone, but you don't miss his expression, the smile that threatens to slip onto his face.

it'll be a secret between just the two of you.

CHOSO KAMO ⌇ there wasn't a single doubt in your mind that this man wouldn't put his life on the line for you

however, it wasn't so certain from the start. when you were first introduced to choso, he was polite. he looked you in the eyes, kneeled to you, pledged his allegiance, but what struck you most was the anger that his gaze met you with.

it was like being scalded, making you shrink back from the sheer intensity. you couldn't get a read off of him apart from that cool anger, one that you weren't even sure was directed at you or not.

it was only through gossip overheard by the maidservants that you learnt of his prospects before being appointed as your bodyguard.

the most promising of his rank, on course to become the youngest commander in the military in the past century. he would have been set for life, the salary enough to support his entire family- yet he's now responsible for babysitting a spoilt princess.

it's what they had said, after all.

and the more you thought about it, the more awful you felt. you understand now why he looked at you like that, that pointed gaze with all its burning intensity. why he looked like he would rather be anywhere else within the castle than at your side.

it's improper to assume responsibility for anything as a member of the royal family, but you do so anyway and apologise to him one night- borderline tearful, your emotions besting you as you finally cave in and tell him about how you think he hates you.

and he stops you mid-sentence, confusion written across all of his features.

"milady... i'm afraid you've got it all wrong."

it was an awkward conversation, to say the least. you had never really been exposed to someone like him before- to have such a rigid sense of duty and seriousness that it translated as hatred was unheard of, even for the castle.

and despite this revelation, choso's stiff upper lip did not waver. his intertwined sense of duty was a tricky thing to peel away from him.

but it's a task that you were willing to commit to. you'd be spending a lot more time with him, after all, and you'd much rather get to know choso as a person if that was the case.

and so began your futile efforts of breaking down choso's barriers. you felt like a petulant child, always asking him questions that he would either blank or answer with an occasional grunt.

you were glad that news travels fast within the castle- any gossip about the princess' handsome new knight was a snippet of information that you hung onto eagerly.

it appears that you weren't alone in harbouring an interest in the young knight- if the excited chattering of maidservants and the way that they squealed over every interaction with him was any indicator.

for some reason, hearing them gush over the way his muscles looked when he was practising swordfighting in the barracks, or how strong he was when he helped carry in heavy sacks of grain rubbed you the wrong way. it lit a fire underneath you that made you all the more eager to get to know him well and truly before anybody else did.

you seemed to have struck gold about sir choso when you overheard one maidservant admit to having grown up in the same village as him- how she remembered that his family used to own a horse that him and his brothers loved more than anything else when growing up.

amidst the oohs and aahs of this revelation, a plan started to hatch in your mind. one that came into fruition the very next day as choso accompanied you on your morning walk around the royal gardens.

"say, choso, have you ever ridden a horse before?"

out of all of the questions and hints about him that you've posed, you've never seen such a reaction from him before. he starts, and out of the corner of your eye you see him almost puff up with excitement, and your ears strain, eager to hear what he has to say before you see him school his features once again, and the moment is bitterly over.

"it was part of my training to become a knight, milady. why do you ask?"

it was no matter if he didn't want to open up yet, you can be patient. and spend a little longer playing dumb about just how much you know about him.

"well, i was thinking of doing something slightly different today." he raises an eyebrow, prompting you to continue. "i wanted to go horse-riding." he pauses for a good few seconds, ever so stoic, before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"as you wish, milady."

you clap your hands togeher excitedly, beaming up at him.

"perfect!"

you set off in the direction of the stables, your knight following closely behind you, and dare you say with a slightest improvement in the upbeat of his gait. despite all of his professionalism, he still had his tells.

the smell of fresh hay and the less pleasant odour of manure reaches your nostrils before you can properly see the horses, but you let your nose wrinkle in displeasure and resolutely keep marching onwards to the stable entrance. you had a purpose to fulfil by being here, after all.

now, as a princess, it was imperative that you had acquired several different skills as part of your royal upbringing. how to eat properly, how to speak properly, act properly, including when riding a horse.

but, try as you might, you just couldn't quite manage to get a proper grasp on that last part. but, if it meant getting to know choso, you'd simply grin and bear it and hope to god that it didn't buck you off directly into a patch of mud.

the horses can smell your fear, you had been told as a child. even the stubbiest pony accustomed to your eight-year-old self's stature still towered above you, nostrils flared and rubbery lips dripping with saliva, making you hide behind the legs of your tutors as you cowered away from such a ferocious beast.

such childlike fears seemed to resurface now, as the snort of a nearby horse makes you twitch, visibly enough that it doesn't go unnoticed.

"are you alright, milady?" he's eyeing you sideways now, having caught up with your stride with his much longer one. you wonder just how eager he must be to ride a horse that it would warrant him breaking his usual pattern of tracing your footsteps and now meeting them with his own as the pair of you walk.

the thought brings a pang of guilt to accompany it, so you plaster on a smile and nod at him brightly.

"of course i am! it just caught me off guard, is all. not to worry, i'll have two horses be arranged for us."

you look at the nearest stable hand expectantly, and the young boy seems to comprehend your message as he dashes off to affix saddles and leashes to two fine stallions, befitting of royalty, to ride. you don't miss the doubtful look choso still gives you out of the corner of your eye.

it's better than focusing on the huffs and snorts of the beast before you as it's brought forwards, close enough for its putrid breath to curl in warm tendrils against your face. you feel your skin shrivel at the sensation.

but being a princess means putting on a brave face, and to never crumble in the face of adversity.

you march over to see the stirrup, level with your chest, inviting you to step up and onto the horse's back. it's funny, all these years later you would have dwarfed that little pony, so now they've brought an even larger horse to maintain order.

you can feel your heart hammering in your chest as you approach it, and you think that the horse can feel it too, because it snorts, twisting its head, the stable hand sounding panicked as the rope is prised from his grasp by the powerful strain from the stallion.

and then there's those painstaking moments, of the horse bucking and neighing, free now, and you really regret not providing more foresight into this plan.

how exactly will you get to know choso more if you've been trampled to death before he opens his mouth again?

you think this is the end of your short and silly life, if not for the hand that shoots out, grabbing the reins, another smoothing over the horse's snout. you watch in awe as your knight, your personal bodyguard, does just that and saves you from what would have been an imminent and painful death.

and like some horse whisperer, the stallion was now rendered meek and docile, following where it was led as choso turned to you, expression impassive as always.

"are you scared of horses milady?"

how foolish of you to think you wouldn't be all these years later. there's no use lying, and you dejectedly nod at his question. a beat of silence, before confusion graces his features.

"then why decide to go riding today?"

"because i heard that you like horses..."

it sounds so truly pathetic coming out of your mouth, but your heart still skips a beat as you see an entirely new expression on his face. a smile, one that he bites back as he looks off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief.

and then he looks back at you, really looks at you, with that coldness in his eyes parting like clouds to give way to something softer, warmer.

"allow me to help you then, your highness."

you give him a shy little nod at his proposition, and choso turns to the tearfully apologetic stable hand, signalling to him to return the other horse. you're confused as he approaches you, horse in tow, and you eye the animal with suspicion as it meets you face to face.

"the first thing about any animal is to establish a connection with it, milady." choso speaks so softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you watch in amazement as the horse's ears prick up, as if hanging on every word that he says alongside yourself.

"you've got to talk to it, introduce yourself." he motions for you to try, and your eyes flick back to the horse.

"hello, horse," you whisper to it. you feel like an idiot, but choso's nod of encouragement and second rare smile convince you to keep going. "it's nice to meet you."

it seems to have turned its attention towards you now, its nose snuffling at you, and you rear back a little.

"it's okay, milady, he just wants to smell you."

you look at choso again, expression doubtful, and he holds his hand outstretched, prompting you to place your palm in his.

he's warm, deliciously so, a decisive strength resting behind each finger as he guides your dainty hand towards the maw of the beast. its nostrils flare, snuffling against your hand, and you giggle girlishly at the odd sensation. choso's smiling now, no charade as he lets his joy shine through, matching yours.

"see? he likes you, your highness."

the pair of you stay like that for a few minutes, tentatively stroking the horse, until you feel comfortable enough to suggest riding them. choso nods, a flicker of responsibilty taking over his expressions as he guides you towards the saddle.

you're uncertain all over again, for different reasons now, as the distance required to get your foot in the stirrup seemed a little too high to achieve. and then choso's behind you, a hushed "may i?" whispered into your ear as his fingers curl at your waist.

you're flustered now, nodding all the same, gasping at how easily he lifts you until your feet dangle adjacent to the sturrup, and you let yourself slip a foot into it and swing the rest of yourself up and over to be seated on the horse.

you peer down at choso, desperately trying to ignore the fact that his head was directly next to your lap. it was absurd- you were the one riding atop a horse as he remained on the ground, you were the one of royal descent- yet in this very moment you were entirely at his mercy.

you clear your throat, nodding to him.

"if there aren't any more horses, how are you going to ride one?" and now he smirks at you, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world.

"well, if you're so scared of horses, i thought that i'd continue to help you get over that fear."

the penny doesn't drop until he places his foot in the very same stirrup that you had used to hoist yourself up, doing the same in an admittedly much more fluid motion, and positing himself flush against your back.

if it weren't for the light armour he wore, you were certain that he would be able to feel the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

you look down to your lap, watching as his arms reach forwards, practically embracing you, before his hands take a willful grip of the leather reins.

"how does that sound, milady?" he's practically purring into your ear, and he must know the effect he's having on you, if not before then definitely now as you sharply inhale, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck prickle at the slight sensation of his breath.

you don't even trust yourself to speak eloquently without making a fool of yourself, so you nod instead. the message is not lost on choso, and he chuckles right into your ear before starting to guide the horse as easily as breathing.

the animal lurched forwards, and your hands shot out, instinctively latching onto the nearest solid thing. whether they were your knight's hands or not wasn't important. but choso took this in stride, guiding your hands to take hold of the reins, and then encapsulating them with his own.

it sent a little thrill jolting through your spine, especially as he shuffles even closer to you, just to make sure that he could see properly.

your plan was working brilliantly after all.

and for all the trouble it took to situate yourself on the horse, your initial fears melted away in the presence of choso, as he spurred the horse to start a slow walk out of the stables, and onto the vast grounds surrounding the palace.

and as you gaze back to catch a glimpse of your knight, catching the way he smiles down at you so freely, faces a breadth apart, you realise that your fates are well and truly intertwined together.

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... there's no release, i feel you in my dreams

(i don't have any other jjk fics FOR NOW ㅜㅡㅜ) best friend!aventurine x reader

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