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#{It came from the waters deep: anon}
frost-queen · 20 days
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My mortal flaw (Reader x Zuko)
Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya
Summary: Reader is a watertribe princess, intended to marry Prince Zuko as an offering of peace between the nations. Zuko never wanted you as his wife and finds you a weakness. A weakness he never saw coming. Upon the discovery of the Avatar, you try to sneak away, only to be discovered by Zuko leading to an arguement. At Kyoshi island you find an escape with Sokka and Katara which makes Zuko derranged and furious. Doing anything in his power to get you back. Finally realizing he might love you. [ part 2 & part 3 ]
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There were loud knocks on the door to your cabin. It made you lift your head up. You didn’t respond immediate as the next following knocks turned into banging. – “Gentle, gentle.” – you heard a muffled voice speak from the other side. There was a deep sigh, followed by a gentle knock. Almost too gentle. – “Yes.” – you responded having kind of clue of who was at the other side.
“Are you done staying inside?” – It was Prince Zuko speaking at the other end. – “No.” – you responded hearing Zuko barely loose his temper on the other end. – “Calm, calm now nephew.” – you recognized it was Iroh’s voice, soothing the prince’s temper.
You heard some movements till Zuko’s temper took over. – “Then perish inside!” – he yelled at the door as you saw the light of flames through the cracks. Jumping up you went up to the door. – “I will!” – you shouted back in frustration. There was a loud groan with a hard stomp against your door. Startling you away from the door.
Footsteps died out It made you near the door again, holding your ear against it. Once the storm had passed, you exhaled deep. You knew you couldn’t stay in your cabin. It wasn’t deliberately, but you sometimes wanted to avoid Zuko.
Almost at every occasion were you forced together in close proximity. The waterbending princess promised to him. A peace treaty between nations. Honestly you didn’t know what possessed Fire lord Ozai to accept your father’s proposition of simply handing you over on a silver platter to his son.
Being on Zuko’s ship for almost four years now, you had a bit of a clue. Perhaps the fire lord accepted it, to taunt Zuko more. A way of shaming him further against his nation. Water and fire weren’t meant to be together. It was an extra nudge to keep Zuko out of the fire nation. If he wasn’t so bad tempered you might feel sympathy for him.
Opening the door, you decided to head out. Probably the first in days. You missed the ocean breeze, the salty water, the cold, the moon. You missed everything that felt close to you. Looking cautiously around for Zuko, you snuck your way up to the deck. Feeling the breeze on your skin, you inhaled deep. Composed you went to the railing, holding tight to it. Feeling the rocking of the ship on the water, you leaned back to take it in.
With a satisfying breath, you looked up to the moon. The deck was mostly empty. Most soldiers below deck. Playing some cards or drinking. It was a bit too quiet as you missed the buzzing life of your village. Leaning with your chin on your arms by the railing, you stared into the water. Wondering how your tribe was doing without your presence.
“What are you doing here?” – A loud voice raged. You jumped up, startled to bone. Turning your posture a bit, you saw Zuko braising as he came your way. You rolled your eyes at him. – “Make up your mind where you want me.” – you replied raising your voice a bit as well. Zuko puffed up his chest with anger, standing face to face with you. His hands radiating heat. His gaze scanning yours. He hated how vulnerable your gaze was. Soft and mesmerizing as the moon.
A wind picked up from the east as it made you shiver. Zuko noticed it, observing you. – “Fetch the princess a blanket!” – he yelled without a glance away from you. From behind Zuko at the other side, you saw a soldier rush to get you a blanket. You tilted your head a bit. – “Your uncle isn’t looking.” – you told him.
Knowing he only showed kindness when his uncle forced him to be civil. – “I know.” – Zuko responded with a soft glare. The soldier returned with a blanket as Zuko snatched it from his hands. He rose his hands, intending to place the blanket over your shoulders as he stopped himself. He caught himself being nice. Showing a weakness, he couldn’t afford.
He brought his hands back to his chest, throwing the blanket at you. You caught it when it hit your chest. – “How gentle of you.” – you said sarcastic, putting the blanket over your shoulders. Zuko huffed loud as he staid in your presence. Close as it made you uncertain at this point. What was he still doing around you? He never staid this long around you. Not if it wasn’t forced on him.
There was a rumble in the sky followed by a strong gush of air. It knocked you right against Zuko’s chest. His hand subtle on your back as the wind kept blazing through. Zuko’s eyes lit up, lowering his hand on you. From the corner of your eye, you saw a bright blue light.
Making you turn around to bestow upon the beam of light in the sky. – “What is that?” – you asked a bit nervous and frightened. Unconsciously you leaned back, coming in touch with Zuko’s chest. Zuko stepped back as you felt the loss of touch. He started ordering commands to his crew to set coarse to the beam of light. It might be a clue for his search for the Avatar.
The ship neared the village of the southern water tribe. It cracked the ice open when it steered frontal through it. The village nearing. Zuko stood on deck. Uncle Iroh a step behind him to the side. You stood beside Zuko, your fiancé. With worry, you looked up to him. – “Stay on the ship.” – he said firm, keeping his hands behind his back. – “but…” – you started. – “Stay here!” – Zuko yelled at you, making you gulp nervously. – “Zuko!” – Iroh called out.
“Show the princess some kindness.” – he told him with a soft glare. Zuko breathed with a scoff. He lowered himself a bit to speak to you like a he would do to a little child. – “That’s an order from your prince.” – he made clear. Something you caught in his eyes, made you see a smidge of desperation in him. Did he perhaps think you’d stay here with the people of your own kind?
That once you left the ship, they’d see you as a prisoner and claim you as theirs? Before you could think of it more, had Zuko turned away. Zuko accepted his helmet from one of his men, following them. Iroh came joining your side as you watched Zuko and his men descend onto the ice. – “Best to stay out of a fight, princess.” – he said to you.
Being on the ship was boring. You hardly had any sight of what was happening down at the village. You saw flashes of fire as you hoped Zuko wouldn’t burn down the village. It was small. Smaller than any village you had known. You had lost sight of Iroh. He was probably up on the high deck to overlook the happening. A gush of wind made you bring your hands up to protect your face. – “An airbender?” – you questioned.
Hadn’t they gone instinct? For over a hundred years there haven’t been an airbender. – “The Avatar!” – you heard the soldiers shout in unison. – “The Avatar.” – you gasped in shock. Looking up, you knew Iroh’s eye was on Zuko. As it always was. You duck down, rushing to the railing. Below the ice had cracked where the ship had broken through.
Grabbing the railing, you jumped over it, swaying your hand up. A trail of water spiralled up, flowing around you as it slowed your descend. Your feet hit the ice as the water splashed on the ice. Ignoring Zuko’s order, you needed to see it for yourself.  Keeping yourself low to avoid Iroh spotting you, you snuck up in haste to the village.  
You neared the entrance of the village, eyes wide with shock of what you saw. People running around. The soldiers causing fires to scare them into handing over the Avatar. You snuck into the village trying to look for the Avatar. A deranged fire blast went your way as it hit an igloo near you. The impact made you duck down, receiving some exploded ice on your back.
“It isn’t save here!” – A boy called out, taking your hand as he pulled you away from the burning igloo. He came to a stop, taking a moment to fully look at you. – “Who are you?” – he asked, still holding your hand. You panicked pulling your hand out of his and taking a run for it. – “Hey!” – the boy called out coming after you.
He knew everyone from his village, yet you were unfamiliar. He got stopped in his tracks by fire. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his sister. – “Katara hide!” – he shouted with a wave of his arm. You came to a stop seeing the Avatar in the air. Never did you think you’d see the Avatar.
Your gaze got pulled away by a hard pull on your wrist. Forcing you to look another way. Zuko’s way. – “You ignored my order!” – Zuko shouted at you, tugging hard on your wrist. You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip as he held it tight. – “I’m not your soldier!” – you yelled back at him. Zuko glared at you. – “Get back to the ship!” – he ordered with anger. – “I will stay!” – you stood your ground, not wanting to leave. – “Y/n! Get. To. The. Ship.” – he repeated trying to compose himself.
Feeling himself boil with anger over you. Angry that you deliberately ignored his order. You pulled your wrist out of his grip with force. – “I didn’t sign up for this!” – you replied with fury. – “For what?” – Zuko fired back. – “These are my people Zuko!” – you told him. – “I just want the Avatar!” – he responded. In the corner of his eye, he saw a spear heading your way. Zuko tensed his jaw, grabbing you as he tackled you to the ground. Rolling over in the snow as the spear flew over your heads.
You laid in the snow, feeling Zuko half on top of you. His hand protective on your head. He pulled you up as he created fire, bending it towards the tribe member who threw the spear at you. – “Zuko!” – you called out, pushing his arm down. – “The ship now!” – Zuko yelled with a rage unlike you had ever seen. Before you knew it, grabbed two of his men you by the arms. Dragging you out of the village back to the ship.
**
“Stay with the princess!” – Zuko ordered one of his men. They bowed as a response. – “Don’t let her out of your sight.” – he added tracking up the hill. Iroh right behind him. You followed in line as Zuko lead the expedition to capture the Avatar. Having been spotted on Kyoshi island. – “The Avatar is mine.” – Zuko said out loud.
Up on the hill was a bright blue light shining. Hinting the Avatar was up there. Up ahead you saw a water tribe girl take a stand as defence. She let her arms sway, letting a whip of water splash at Zuko’s feet. Zuko stopped, pulling his foot up to see the wetness on his shoes. – “Pathetic.” – he called out.
The girl furrowed her brows at the sight of you. – “Stand aside girl.” – Zuko ordered. The girl moved her hands up. – “You’ll have to go through me.” – she replied. Zuko laughed. – “That won’t be a problem.” – he answered preparing himself. He fired at her as she fell backwards onto the grass. A sudden gush of wind made you all look away. Zuko’s eyes widened when Avatar Kyoshi landed in front of them. With one wave of her fan, were you all pushed back by air. Falling back.
“Protect the princess!” – Zuko shouted as he tried to get back up. The soldier enlisted to keep you save, pulled you up by your arm. Dragging you away from the others. He led you down the hill through the woods. You had little time to stand still and think about what was happening. Soon you neared the town as the soldier kept a grip on you, looking constantly over his shoulder. You froze when a fan flashed at him, hitting him in the head. It knocked him down.
Your gaze met up with a young girl looking a lot like Avatar Kyoshi with her make-up. The same boy from the water tribe at her side. – “Hey I know you!” – he said with a confused point at you. – “You were at my tribe too.” – he stated with furrowed brows. You turned around taking a run for it. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka called out, coming after you with Suki. You stopped, brought your hands up your face, then you pushed them forwards. The crackling of ice sounding. Sokka and Suki looked down, their feet slippery on ice.
“She can bend.” – Suki told Sokka out of breath. Suki grabbed Sokka by his shirt, pulling him off the ice. They went back in pursuit. In the woods, you couldn’t tell the direction apart. Not knowing where it might lead you. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka shouted to get your attention. Panting you tried to stay ahead of them. You screamed when you nearly bumped into the girl that came out of nowhere. You fell back, caught off guard. – “Katara get her.” – Sokka called out, out of breath.
Katara took a stand, ready to whip you with water if you dared to move. – “Why are you with the fire nation?” – she asked rudely. Suki extended her hand to you as you accepted it, letting her help you up. – “Are you their prisoner?” – Sokka questioned as you remained silent. – “There’s no need to be scared.” – Suki spoke rubbing her hand on your back, soothingly. – “We’ll save you.” – Sokka responded proudly. Before you knew it, were you dragged along with them.
Zuko was panting, taking a look around. – “Where is the princess?” – he asked loud. All his men looked at each other uncertain. Zuko felt himself grow angrier. – “Where is Y/n!” – he shouted unleashing fire from his fists. – “Don’t worry Zuko, we’ll find her.” – Iroh said to sooth him. – “Find her!” – Zuko ordered to his men. – “Burn this entire island down if you must to find her!” – he moved his fist forward, a blast of fire hitting a tree as it set it on fire. His men scattered away in search of you. – “We’ll find her Zuko…” – Iroh spoke placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko brushed his hand harshly off. He was panting. Braising with anger that he had lost sight of you.
If this would’ve happened years ago, he would just leave, being glad to be rid of you. Now, he felt like he couldn’t. You weren’t around him for a few moments and he already missed the argues with you. He missed your presence, more than he would ever admit. It wasn’t easy being forced on this mission with someone you were signed up to marry. Yet you were there. Day in and out. You were there at every step of the way. The water tribe princess he learned to admire… in secret.
Admitting it to himself that he actually… cared was scary. You were a weakness. You still are a weakness to him. One he didn’t intended on. Zuko called it out, burning the trees nearby. A tree’s trunk cracked. The top bush falling to the side. Zuko narrowed his eyes when he saw something familiar blue trotting up the hill. Instead of one, he recognized three. Taking in deep breaths, he bald his hands into fists.
He called it out as the fire coming out of him startled Iroh. It was blazing hot. Iroh saw it now as well, swallowing nervously. – “Zuko…” – he started moving his hand forwards. Before he could reach Zuko, had Zuko ran off. Huffing and puffing with anger to get you back. The grass catching fire from where he passed. His wrath waiting to be unleashed.
“So why were you with the fire nation?” – Katara asked as she pushed you up the hill. – “It’s complicated.” – you answered. – “How is it complicated?” – Sokka asked scratching the back of his head. – “It’s…” – you started cut off by loud shouting. You leaped aside when a fire blast went your way. Looking back at the trail, you saw Zuko panting with anger. His fist out where the fire blast had come from.
“He’s back!” – Sokka called out, helping his sister back up. Sokka then rushed over to you, helping you up. – “We have to go.” – he told you. Zuko fired once more, preventing them from going further up the hill. – “You are not going anywhere with her!” – he made clear. Sokka pulled you behind him. – “She’s not your prisoner!” – Sokka shouted at Zuko.
“No.” – Zuko replied composing himself a bit. – “She’s my intended.” – he said out loud making Sokka’s jaw drop, gawking at Zuko. – “Now hands off before I burn you!” – Zuko threatened. Sokka immediately pulled his hands off you, having no intention to die. Zuko’s gaze met up with yours, softening as he extending his hand to you. – “Please…” – he asked.
The sincereness from him made you realize he’d truly cared for you. For long you didn’t think it was possible. But here he was burning bridges to get to you. You took a deep breath, making the intention to reach your hand out to him when a gush of wind knocked him back. The Avatar landed soundless between Zuko and you. – “Leave my friends alone!” – Aang called out.
Zuko pressed his fist into the ground, groaning in anger. He got up firing at Aang. Aang deflected his fire with a defence of his own. Aang swayed his stick, knocking Zuko further back down the hill. Zuko got back up, going with all his might against Aang. Using all his power against the Avatar in order to get you back. – “Wait!” – you called out loud. Aang and Zuko stopped.
Aang looking confused at you. – “Don’t hurt him.” – you told Aang. Aang stared dumbfound  at you. Zuko slowly got up as you ran up to him. Slamming yourself against his chest when he had gotten up. Your arms around him. Zuko moved his arms around you as well, lowering his head on your shoulder to feel your embrace deeper.
“I need you Y/n.” – Zuko whispered to you. You hugged him tighter as a response. – “Can someone explain to me what is happening?” – Aang said out loud, looking back at his friends. Sokka and Katara could only stare in shock at the two of you. – “They’re intended.” – Sokka said finding it hard to believe and finding it odd that he was saying it out loud. – “Huh?” – Aang responded.
“We should probably leave.” – Katara whispered to her brother. – “Good idea.” – he whispered back, slowly backing away. The three of them ran off. Zuko and you stopped embracing. He smiled at you, touching your cheek. You brought his hand down, keeping it in yours. Holding hands, you went back down the hill with Zuko.
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clandestineloki · 8 months
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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)
[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]
tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end
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miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him
having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream
he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over
and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces
"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"
"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"
"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.
"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"
"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"
it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.
miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"
he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"
shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands
his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms
and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((
he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.
"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters
"amor-"
before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom
"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you
he finds you at the sink
running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly
miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you
he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror
"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."
you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.
"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."
you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."
"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."
you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."
"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.
he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."
you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries
the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms
he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.
"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."
you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.
"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"
"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.
"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.
"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."
miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love
patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.
miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."
he kisses your nose. "i love you."
"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.
"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"
"mhm."
"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"
"can we watch top gun?"
"no."
"but you said it was my choice!"
"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"
"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"
"BEBITA POR DIOS!"
you giggle and he sighs.
"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."
"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.
"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."
you look at him in confusion. "but-"
"promise me." he whispers.
"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."
"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"
"MIGUEL!!"
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yeonzzzn · 2 days
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Jake (your roommate) who has oral fixation who can't help but want to suck on your nipples and clit anytime and anywhere he wants (in school, in his car, in cafes, in your dorm). And as the helpful roommate, you try to wear clothes that would give him easy access all the time.
-🪻 hiiii i misseddd putting req here 🥹🫶
hi again🪻anon🥰 i’ve missed your reqs🥹🫶🏻 oral fixation jake has me weeeaaaaakkkk😮‍💨 I kinda went off the deep end with this one. I couldn’t help myself. this request is so *chefs kiss* and bless kay for helping me with the title for this 🤭😘💍
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taste of you: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.9k
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For as long as you’ve known your roommate, he’s always had an oral fixation even before he became your roommate too. 
You and Jake attended the same college. You would always pass him in the hallways on Mondays and Wednesdays and have Chemistry with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Man always had something in his mouth to chew on. 
Gum, the ends of his pens and pencils, the bottle cap to his water bottle, straws from his drinks, the plastic spoons, knives, and forks from lunch, the strings to his hoodie, the plastic on his cup if he didn’t have a straw, and hell, even his fingers if there wasn’t anything else. You could tell just from staring at him across the lecture hall that he had this fixation. 
Fate brought the two of you together when you posted an ad on the campus bulletin board about looking for a roommate after your old one moved out. Jake was the first to respond to the ad, and since you already knew him, you disregarded the other applications. Jake was moved in within a week. 
His oral fixation was a lot worse than you thought and was tame while on campus. Jake had the same normal habits on the things he chewed but added a few things: his shirt while sitting on the couch watching TV or playing on the PlayStation. The cord to his headset when he played on his PC in his bedroom. The cord to his phone while it charged and he was scrolling through social media. Your fingers, lips, tongue, nipples, and clit. 
Crazy, right? It didn’t start that way, his mouth on your body parts. It wasn’t a thought in either of your minds until you came home one afternoon after work and took a shower, not bothering to put a bra on afterward, letting the girls have some time to breathe. So you walked around in your shorts and oversized tee shirt. Jake returned home a couple of hours later from soccer practice, wanting nothing more than a nice shower and a good meal. So you told him to shower and that you’d cook for him. Jake couldn’t hide the smile had, being so happy and lucky you were his roommate. 
Jake didn’t even notice you weren’t wearing a bra until you stood from where you sat on the couch, your nipples poking through your white shirt. The hoodie string Jake had in his mouth fell out as his eyes were glued to your chest, watching how grazed your shirt as you walked around the couch and towards the kitchen. Jake quickly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Splashing his face with the water of his shower, trying to push the thoughts of your perfect nipples being in his mouth. The way he would bite, lick, and suck on them. 
Jake had to lean his body against the cool of the tile wall to get his body temperature down but failed miserably as his thoughts continued to run in his brain. Thinking about the ways your cunt would ride his cock as his mouth worked on your tits. Before Jake knew it his hand was wrapped around his hard cock, biting his lips to keep from moaning as he pumped himself til his cum was dripping down his hand. Jake prayed and prayed that once he was out of the shower you could have put on a bra. Because it’s an asshole move to think about your roommate like that, right? It crosses your boundaries and that’s the last thing Jake wanted to do. 
But to his dismay, you still stood in the kitchen…braless. Once you noticed he was out of the shower, you called him over, “Jae, I made pasta for dinner and this cake for dessert. Come try the icing and tell me what you think?” 
Jake swallowed, knees weak as he slowly walked over to you. Your long hair was now pulled into a loose ponytail and oh man was it driving Jake up a wall. His eyes wandered everywhere, to your nipples, your earlobes, and the cute spot between your shoulder and neck. His mouth watered as he looked back and forth, wanting to pin you to the kitchen counter and place his mouth all over those parts. His dick was hardening and he was doing everything to try and keep you from noticing. 
You got a spoon from the drawer and scooped up some of the icing and held it to his mouth, “Say ahh!” you said cutely, taking notice of the small pink tint on his cheeks as he slowly opened his mouth taking the spoon in. 
Jake’s eyes widened as you pulled the spoon away, “Goddamn, YN, this is fantastic!” Jake loved your cooking and baking. It made him even more excited to eat the pasta and have a dessert to look forward to. 
You noticed some of the icing was on the edge of his lips, you giggled softly and reached up, “You’re so messy,” you teased him, taking your index finger and sliding it across the edge of his lip. 
The moment you touched him it was over. The feeling of your finger on his lips even if it was just the slightest touch sent him into a frenzy, his mouth was opening, head tilting to the side to wrap his lips around your finger, his tongue licking up the icing you wiped away and then sucking on it. His eyes closed tightly as he softly grazed your finger with his teeth. Jake didn’t know what came over him, but the moment he realized what he was doing his eyes shot back open and connected to yours. 
You weren’t surprised and showed no sign that it bothered you that he was currently sucking on your finger. Instead, you gave him a small smile, inching your middle finger to his lips. Jake was the surprised one but opened his mouth anyway, letting you slip your middle in with your index. 
You always teased Jake about his oral fixation, always giving him some type of hell for chewing up specific things. Like the amount of phone chargers you’ve had to rebuy him, and the amount of headsets Jake had to get replaced from chewing on the cords. The amount of gum packets that lay around the apartment just for him. You found it cute to tease him. And you never knew you wanted your fingers in his mouth until right now. Which is why it didn’t bother you. Honestly, your fingers were better than the cords and other plastic things that would eventually ruin his pretty teeth anyway. 
You’d be lying if it didn’t turn you on. Jake was hoping for it, truly. Keeping eye contact with you as he wraps his tongue around your fingers, sucking on them and biting them softly. If you continued to let him chew on your fingers, he was going to lose all control. 
“I know you want to do more than just suck on my fingers,” you whispered to him. You already knew he was hard as a rock and your panties were soaking, “Why don’t you take what you actually want?” 
Jake didn’t hesitate to pull your fingers from his mouth, his lips attaching to yours and sucking on your bottom lip as his hands slid to your thighs, picked you up, and set you down on the countertop, biting hard on your lip, “Give me your tongue,” he hisses between his grip on your lip and only let go once he saw the muscle slide out of your mouth and taking it in his. Jake was in pure bliss getting his oral fixation off on something other than random small items. His cock twitched hard at it too. It was everything he could have wanted. 
As he continued to suck and bite your tongue, his hands slipped under your shirt and slid up, his hands stopping at your tits to rub at your nipples, making them perk up more. You knew Jake was preparing them for his mouth, his skin sending a chill down your spine and goosebumps on your skin, hardening your nipples even more, “fffuuuccckkkk,” he hisses after releasing your tongue from his mouth, dipping down in the same movement of lifting your shirt over your breasts and attaching his mouth to your right nipple as his left hand continued to pinch at your other nipple. 
You moaned his name and gripped his shoulders as his tongue flicked your nipple, as his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub and lips wrapped around it to suck. He moved back and forth between the two, not leaving one out. You already knew your cunt was soaking the countertop and you think Jake knew too. Mostly by the way his hands moved to cup your ass and slide underneath you. He let out a groan against your nipple before removing his mouth and scooped you up, quickly turning in the other direction and laying you down on top of the kitchen table. He kissed you again, sucking your bottom lip back into his mouth in the same motion of his fingers looping between your shorts and panties to pull them down. 
Jake sank to his knees as your shorts and panties hit the floor, him spreading your legs wide to give him better access to your cunt. His mouth watered at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slit dripping out your hole and onto the table. Fuck it was making him dizzy. 
“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he breathes, sticking his tongue out to lick up your hole to your clit, stopping there to take the bud between his teeth and lips. Jake sucked, licked, and bit your clit until you came into his mouth. He didn’t even stop there, no no. He wanted you. Wanted his shower fantasy to come true. So he pulls you from the table and onto the floor with him, quickly removing his sweatpants and boxers and moving you into his lap. 
You rode him as his mouth worked on your nipples again, moving between them both and stopping every few minutes to kiss you and suck on your lips. You even shoved your fingers into his mouth a few times as you fucked him. This kept going until you came again and he was cumming deep into your pussy. 
It was safe to say you both would have a major mess to clean up in the kitchen. And even have to reheat the pasta. 
This was only the start of Jake using you to get his oral fixation in. You gave him full permission to use you as he pleases to get his fix. Jake would be stupid to turn it down. 
It benefited both of you, truly. You both had the benefits of this new agreement. He would get his oral fixation and other sexual needs met, you’d also get your sexual needs met on top of saving money from having to replace the items he’d normally chew on. 
The only terms were he could only have your fingers and lips in public, but could have everything else in the safe space of your shared apartment, or either of your cars, or if no one else was around. 
Again, Jake would be an idiot to turn it down. 
He forced you to move to the back of the classroom room with him so he could suck on your fingers during lectures without anyone noticing and anytime he wanted. 
You’d sit in his car with him during lunch or before his soccer practice so he could make out with you and get his mouth on your tits. 
Then at the apartment? He’d spread your legs. 
One of Jake’s requirements was you having to wear specific clothing for him to have easy access to while at the apartment. Loose tee shirts with no bra. Any type of shorts or sweatpants or skirts with no panties underneath. 
It truly was a dream come true for Jake. The best roommate he could ask for. This whole dynamic worked for the two of you. Both parties were getting pleasure and their needs met while maintaining a good friendship with each other. It was perfect. So completely perfect. 
Your favorite thing was when Jake would return home from his other classes or work and immediately sink down to his knees in front of you saying, “I need your cunt in my mouth right now,” or lifting your shirt off your body instantly and saying, “I need your tits against my tongue.” Or your personal favorite thing he’d say is, “I need you on my cock as I suck on those pretty tits of yours.” 
Again, so so so perfect. Yet…
…when it came to matters of your heart, you started to love him. You had your suspicions on whether you were actually gaining feelings or if it was just the sex and the way he’d work his mouth on your body that was making you confused. But your feelings became apparent and so clear to you when one day you lay on the couch, scrolling through TikTok to watch the latest trends when Jake stumbled into the living room. He had a hard time at practice that Saturday morning, beating himself up over not making the winning score during the practice match against another team. Jake slid himself under your arms and just laid his head against your chest and got himself comfy on top of you, making no moves to undress you to get his fix. “I just needed to be close to you right now,” was all he said as he snuggled his face into your breasts and slid his arms underneath you, squeezing you tightly to him. He wasn’t horny or anything, just genuinely wanted to be with you. It took everything to keep your heart from fluttering. From it completely busting out of your chest as he slowly fell asleep on top of you. You were done for. You loved him. 
And oh god did Jake fall so hard in love with you too. How could he not? You accepted his oral fixation and even let him get his fix by using your body. Yeah at first it was strictly to get his fix in, the sex just being a bonus, but the more time that passed, the more he fell. He would get so drunk of your scent as he worked his mouth and cock on and in your body. You became his every waking thought and not just in ways to get his oral fixation needs met. He wanted to spend time with you. Take you on dates. Show you off to his friends. Yeah, having a roommate who gave into his oral fixation was such a hard flex. But to call you his girlfriend who also gives into his oral fixation, was an even bigger hard flex. Jake knew he loved you when all he wanted was to be in your arms after his terrible practice that morning. 
It took a week later for him to confess. 
His cock was buried so deep in your cunt, his mouth biting and sucking on your ear lobe as you screamed out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It was as good of a time as any, Jake thought, what better way to confess his love for you while being balls deep inside you?
“Be mine,” he moans into your ear, detaching his mouth from your lobe and lifting you up from the couch in a swift motion, rolling the two of you into a sitting position with you in his lap. Jake bites at your skin between your neck and shoulders, his hands shoving you down onto him to press his cock even further into your cunt, “be mine, please,” he says between each suck, kiss, and bite at your skin. 
You couldn’t believe you heard the words escape his mouth, not knowing if you heard him clearly or not, “What?” 
Jake released your skin with a pop, his hands moving to your tits, squeezing them together and giving them a lift up, licking your nipples then biting them softly, “I am in love with you, I can’t stand not actually getting to call you mine,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, bucking his hips up into you, being so lost in the taste of you, “Be mine. Be my girlfriend.” 
Your fingers tangled into his hair as you bounced on his cock, throwing your head back, “Yes,” you moan, “Yes, Jae, yes. I love you too. I’m in love with you too.” 
Jake quickly switches the positions again, pressing your body against the coffee table by the couch, fucking into you with everything he had. He kissed you with so much love and want and need. Being so happy he could finally call you his. You finally being more than just his roommate/fuck buddy that gave into his oral fixation. 
He bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it as he comes undone, his hips snapping to a stop to press his cock against your cervix hard, his cum filling you whole. 
Jake releases your lip and smiles down at you, his eyes wandering to every part of your body he had his mouth on, loving the way his teeth marks look on you. On his girlfriend. Thank god you ended up being such a good roommate.
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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity
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should’ve told me | l. at
fwb!fratboy!anton x fem. reader | 6.1k words
my anton anon’s this one is for y’all
contains: friends with benefits, reader denies feelings, pining, love confessions, unprotected sex
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you kept anton around for longer than you should have. you’re grown enough to admit that you should’ve let him down easy a long time ago, probably after the first time you hooked up. 
it was as innocent as any hookup could be, one thing leading to another once you and anton were done with your class project. he had pleasantly surprised you with how smart he was. when he wasn’t surrounded by his stupid fraternity brothers he was also pretty sweet. and he was tall, with a pretty smile that took up his whole face. he ended up in your dorm and it was just the two of you, and you hadn’t touched anyone intimately in a long time. when he pressed his body close to yours and you felt his strong broad chest he covered up with hoodies you didn’t stand a chance. you fucked anton on your tiny twin bed, the cheap wooden frame creaking underneath your shared weight. 
the worst part was that he was so good at fucking you. it was truly always the quiet and shy ones. the same anton whose face went all red when he had to talk in front of the class pressed your body deep into the mattress and left marks all over your neck. the same anton that had to join a fraternity to make friends was incredibly bold, his sweet voice telling you how wet and tight you were. but he was sweet nonetheless, saying gentle praises when he hit a spot deep inside of you and shyly admitted that he had thought about what you would feel like wrapped around him.
although his words were sweet, his actions were rough from the strength and size of his body. when he bent his legs while chest to chest with you he unknowingly pushed your legs upwards, almost making your knees touch your stomach. you moaned while taking it all, loving the feeling of anton accidentally manhandling you. anton didn’t know how strong he was until he flipped you over with ease, apologizing in your ear for surprising you. you immediately forgave him, even taking the extra step to tell him he can do whatever he wants to you. what he wanted was to make you cum over and over again until you were near tears.
you two spent the next couple hours going at it, both of you missing your last classes for the day. when anton finally finished on your ass the sun was setting, bathing your tiny dorm room in sunlight. anton’s hot pants fanned your ear while the sun continued to set. you wanted to see his face, see if he still got shy right before reaching his peak, or how the sun would light up his brown eyes. when he pulled out and jerked himself off over you, you craned your neck to try and see him. all you got was a view of his toned stomach, his muscles tensing underneath the taut skin. you had to settle for the sound of anton’s quiet whimpers and the feeling of his hot cum on your ass and thighs. you were nearly out of it yourself, two orgasms deep before anton let himself go.
anton came to his senses quickly and apologized for the mess he made. his stamina seemed to double yours, getting control of his body fast while your limbs still felt like jelly. he got down from your loft bed, going over the side instead of wasting time with the stairs. he came back quickly with paper towels and a cold water bottle from your mini fridge. he cleaned you up while you drank the water, hoping your roommate took notes for you in class.
when anton was done he pressed kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder blades. he had gone back to his shy and reserved self, nothing like the man that was fucking you into your mattress or jerking himself off over your ass a few minutes prior.
“did you cum?” anton asked quietly.
anton was too cute for his own good. you turned around to see anton sitting at the end of your bed looking at you expectantly. his face lit up immediately when you told him yes, and when you told him you finished multiple times it looked like his head was going to explode. anton closed the space between the two of you, kissing you on the lips. it caught you off guard, a passionate kiss on the lips being the most intimate thing you’ve done all day. when you pulled back, anton did too.
“i’m sorry.” anton said immediately.
you shook your head and smiled at anton. 
“just surprised me is all.” you said.
you could tell anton wanted to kiss you again. but you sat on the other end of the bed, trying to figure out why your heart was doing backflips now. you were saved by the custom ringtone of your roommate calling you.
you looked away from anton’s flushed face and his swollen lips, letting him catch his breath while you answered the call.
“hey yunjin.” you said. 
you motioned for anton to get off his bed and he did so immediately, handing you your clothes. he was moving frantically for some reason, much more rushed to get dressed than you were. 
“do you have a guest over?” 
her voice over the phone was high and flirtatious. yunjin knew who it was too, the shy boy in your class you always said hi to when you passed by him.
“why? are you at the dining hall?” you asked. 
you threw on your shirt without bothering to put on a bra. it was cold enough you’d be wearing multiple layers anyway.
“heading over there now. i’ll meet you there?”
you could hear the shuffling of people and yunjin putting her stuf faway. you must’ve barely missed class being dismissed. you quietly thank anton for handing you your underwear and pants off the floor. you pressed the phone to your ear using your shoulder while you put your pants back on.
“okay. i’ll see you in a little bit.” you said.
there was silence only for a moment on the other end of the line. you could practically see yunjin on the other end of the line with a smug look on her face while she exited the classroom.
“oh and tell anton i said h—”
you hung up before yunjin could finish her sentence. you could see her loudly laughing to herself in the hallway. 
you let your phone rest on your chest a moment before looking down, seeing anton fully dressed with his backpack slung over a shoulder. you got down from the bed yourself, feeling his hand on your back as if you hadn’t gone down the ladder a million times before. 
on your way to your door you felt anton trailing a little too close to you. when you made it to the door you put on a pair of slip ones, watching anton watch you. you smiled again, the way he was trying to be so inconspicuous about it all.
“what’s so funny?” anton asked shyly. 
he smiled big at nothing, giving you an eye smile while you put on your shoes.
“you’ve been jumpy ever since we did it. i feel like you want to ask me something.” you said. 
you grabbed your jacket off of the coat hanger by the door and slip it on. you stuff your phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets, checking that you have everything. anton still stares at you, trying to find the words to talk to you.
“do you want to eat at the house?” anton asks.
you raise your eyebrows at anton asking you to come over to his frat house before opening the door. anton shakes his head quickly, realizing it could be taken a different way. he’s goes back to following behind you in the small corridor of your dormitory. he readjusts his backpack as he leans his body forward, a height advantage so he can be closer to your ear.
“maybe we could talk about what just happened.” anton says quietly.
you remain silent while you walk through your building. anton follows you through the twists and turns of the hallways. when you make it to the elevator anton stands behind you, rocking on his heel while you continue to say nothing. 
when you make it outside the building you pull anton to the empty outdoor area that surrounds your building.
“i’m not hanging out with you at your frat, anton.” you say.
you tried not to sound too harsh, but you saw anton’s face flash with pain. his hand tightened around the strap of his backpack while he started looking everywhere else but at you. 
you thought it would be a one and done thing with him. you knew how frat boys got down, fucking girls once and then ditching them. the reputation of his frat brothers reputations preceded them, but it seemed like anton was different. maybe that’s why you told him that you wanted to sleep with him again. you kissed him on the cheek and said you wanted to see his face next time, leaving him alone in the courtyard of your building before heading to the dining hall. 
you had said those words to anton only in hopes to stun him long enough that you could walk away. but as the week went on and you thought about how he felt against you, you caved. you couldn’t stop yourself from hitting up anton again. you texted anton during class as he zealously took notes.
hey.
you watched him continue to write on the paper, alternating between looking at the board and his composition notebook
yunjin is sleeping at her boyfriends place tonight
ill be all alone :(
you loved the rush you felt seeing anton peak at his phone underneath the table. when he saw the text his eyes scanned the classroom until he found you. you smiled at him and waved, giving him your most innocent look. anton dropped his pencil on his notebook to put both of his hands underneath the table to text you back.
you don’t talk to me for a week but you hit me up for sex?
anton tucks his phone back into his pocket before going back to look at the board. he puts his head in his fist, facing his head away from you.
isnt that what this is
anton stayed in the same position, not looking at his phone.
pleaseeeee antonnnnnn
anton went back to his phone and you could see his shoulders slightly raise. he must’ve been laughing at your pain and desperation.
anton didn’t reply to your text but when lass dismissed he approached you after throwing everything into his backpack. you stay seated at your desk, looking up to anton who stands on the other side. he looks the same as he did outside of your courtyard, a single strap of his backpack over his shoulder.
“you wanna walk together?” anton asked.
anton hated that you didn’t want more from him. but he loved the way you smiled at him from your seat and the way you bounced happily all the way to your apartment with him standing behind you. he loved when you grabbed his hand once you entered the safety of your dorm room, and how you rode him on the beanbag next to your bed. anton loved that you couldn’t even wait to get him on your bed and how you became a babbling mess above him. the night ended with anton fucking up into you while he easily held your hips in place. anton loved looking at your face the most, and then feeling your sweaty body slump against him when you were all spent. anton wrapped his arms around your body and continued to fuck you until he was spent. he asked you if you wanted to go to the dining hall after you got dressed, or go on a walk with him. you looked at anton like he was crazy before crawling up to your bed, saying you were tired.
you wanted to use sex with anton as a treat, only having him after a stressful week or when you did really well on a test. but anton became an addiction neither of you wanted to handle. at your worst you were calling him everyday, asking if he could swing by your dorm to help you with something while yunjin was out. that something was the aching between your thighs, and you found out early on that anton was the only one who could satiate you. 
anton hated that you only wanted him for sex. if he had told any of his fraternity brothers they would’ve been confused. having no strings attached sex with a beautiful girl was an ideal situation. but anton wanted more. he wanted to hold your hand in public and walk around with you on campus. anton knew that you were focused on school, and him confessing feelings would complicate your situation, or worse lead to you calling your arrangement off completely. so anton settled for being there when you needed him, responding to your late night texts by knocking at your door in just gray sweatpants and a hoodie. he settled for abiding by your stupid rules, and he settled for giving you dick whenever you asked, whether it was a quickie before your roommate got back or a large warm hand over your clothed pussy while you studied in the library. it wasn’t all anton wanted, but he reveled in the fact that in those moments you only thought of him.
anton swore he could see you slowly getting attached too. sometimes when he’d come into your dorm you’d get on your tiptoes to kiss his nose sweetly, or throwing on his hoodie after sex like you didn’t have clothes of your own. he loved seeing you in his clothes and he knew you loved it to some degree too, stealing a few of his hoodies to keep in your closet. 
you remember when you started craning your neck so anton could kiss your lips during sex. you were the first one to set the boundary to avoid kissing on the lips, too intimate for just being sex buddies. but he had you in missionary and made you feel so full. anton found his way around the kissing rules by pressing his lips to your cheek and forehead before going to your neck. anton found out that sucking on your neck made your mind short circuit, making you completely forget that he was breaking the rules you set. but you were the one that pulled anton’s head from the crook of your neck when he pushed into you slowly.
“kiss me anton.” you whined.
anton wasted no time making out with you while thrusting into you slowly. your spit tasted almost as sweet as your slick and anton spent the rest of the night trying to memorize how your mouth felt. he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to kiss you like this again.
honestly, it was cruel how you kept him around without telling you how you felt. you figured that if you spent enough time ignoring your feelings for anton they’d subside, and maybe he’d stop liking you too. neither of you talked about how you begged for his kisses last night, but he didn’t care as long as you kept letting it happen. 
it had been three months since you started your arrangement with anton. three months of him chasing after you and three months of you ignoring him and your own feelings. anton stopped answering to your texts as often and he stopped asking you to hangout outside of sex. you  knew that anton was losing interest and it made you panic. you hated to admit that you would miss more than just sex if he stopped talking to you. so your dynamic had change over time. it was you showing up to anton’s door late in the middle of the night now. 
when anton opened the door you gave him your brightest smile, trying to get the same one back. you felt your heart drop when he only gave you a small one back, making enough space for you to come inside the frat house. when you tried to give anton a kiss on his cheek he turned away, walking up the stairs to his room. now it was you that trailed behind anton with a white knuckle grip on your overnight bag, feeling like you weren’t wanted. anton was still sweet to you, moving behind you to lead you to his room like you had forgotten.
anton was still a really good host, he made sure to clean his room top to bottom each time he knew you were coming over. he put on quiet music for you and ambiance lighting, a warm and dim orange light to not be too presumptuous. anton was confusing to you, the way he seemed like he didn’t care but was nicer to you than you were to him.
anton had made his way to the couch in his room, sitting right in the middle. you dropped your bag and took of your shoes, walking to stand in front of him. anton went into his seat further, leaning his head to rest on the back of the couch. anton had a hand on his thigh and the other along the back edge of the couch as he looked up at you. he was so nonchalant you felt yourself scrambling.
“i missed you.” you said. 
you reached out a hand to him but anton didn’t grab it, only rubbing up and down his thigh. 
“you could’ve said hi to me in class.” anton said calmly.
it was true. you both knew it was. but you had to keep up appearances and for some reason pretend like you didn’t spare anton a second glance outside of the bedroom. anton spread his legs slightly as he settled more into the couch, looking you up and down. with that hat on it was hard to tell what anton was looking at, if he was staring at your face or your body. you bent down until your hands rested on his shoulder, trying to look into his eyes. you took off the hat he wore and anton brought the hand resting on the back of the couch to push back his hair. 
anton stared back at you with a look that made your stomach do flips. anton’s eyes stayed locked on yours, checking for a change in your expression he brought his hand that was on his thigh to your hip, slightly pulling you onto the couch. you straddled anton, hands picking at the material of his sweatshirt. now that you had seen the body underneath the sweatshirts you felt yourself going a little crazy, especially how he wore nothing underneath. you could see his collarbone, dressed with a fading pink mark from the last time you two met up. you continued to fiddle with the fabric of anton’s sweater, waiting for him to say something to you. you found yourself driven by his voice in bed lately, the way he would softly guide you through the motions or tell you sweet things. one of your hands drifted down his body, resting over his hand on your hip.
“i’m taking bahiyyih to the social.” anton said. 
you had to control your expression, hiding the twinge of pain you felt at the thought of anton with another girl. the fact that he said it so casually made it hurt even more. you knew you didn’t have the right to be mad—it made sense. bahiyyih was in the sister sorority and you had declined anton’s invitation. but you thought it meant he would go alone, just like he did for the last social. now he was going with a girl that could possibly have a crush on him. you bit back the jealousy, bringing anton’s hands that were on your waist to the buttons of your shirt. 
“she’s a sweet girl.” you say after clearing your throat. 
anton hums in agreement as he undoes your buttons. he looks at your shirt, more and more of your skin becoming exposed to him. he wished that he was going with you, only asking bahiyyih after he was pressured into finding a date. you were right, she was a sweet girl. but she wasn’t you.
when your shirt was off you noticed that anton didn’t help you out of it like he usually did. his hands went back to your hips while you shimmied out of your shirt and bra. anton’s eyes that were usually glued to your chest looked at the skin on your neck, running a gentle hand along your collarbone. everything that usually made anton tick wasn’t working, and you could feel yourself slowly going insane.
“take off your pants for me?” you asked.
you hated that your voice sounded meek at the command. anton listened regardless, lifting you and his hips so he could pull his pants down. his dick was still hard as it rested against sweatshirt. you grabbed his length, giving him a few pumps to gauge his reaction. anton did let out a content sigh, but he didn’t look down to see your hand wrapped around his dick. his eyes were scanning your face, his hand going to your face. you awkwardly stand from anton’s lap to rid yourself of your own pants.
anton follows your lead as you situate yourself on his couch. you try to think what position would be best, maybe you shouldn’t see his face tonight. you go on your hands and knees and anton slots himself between your legs, a large hand resting on your ass cheek to spread your folds. you hear anton spit on his length and hear him pumping his dick before he lines it up to your entrance. this is the part where anton would lean over and kiss your shoulder blade, but instead he just slowly pushes himself into you. the stretch with no prep is painful, but you take it anyway. anton barely makes a sound when he is in all the way, only the sound of his breath coming out slightly labored filling your ears. you look behind you to get a glimpse of anton, and he stares at your back. 
“talk to me anton.” you are practically begging him to give you something.
instead he pulls out, of you and sits back on the couch. you turn back around to face him, trying to cover up your body. anton’s face is in his hands as he slightly shakes his head.
“i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore.” anton apologizes.
you wish you could disappear.
“did you not like it?” you ask quietly.
“no, i just,” anton looks up from his hands to look at you, feeling genuinely sorry that you look so dejected. ”i just can’t keep having emotionless, no strings attached sex with you.”
“i thought you didn’t like me anymore.” you said
anton looks at you with confusion before shaking his head again.
“i tried to stop it but i can’t,” anton looks for your clothes on the floor of his apartment. he can’t bring himself to look at you, or to outwardly tell you goodbye. “maybe it’s for the better.” he says
“i don’t want to stop being with you.” you respond. 
there is a lump in your throat that materializes out of nowhere, growing in size when you see anton looking for your clothes.
“i can’t do just sex.” anton says back to you. “i need more.”
“with bahiyyih?” you ask.
for the first time in your life, you see anton get visibly annoyed. you randomly mentioning a girl almost has him yelling out loud in anguish. how could someone like you be so smart and so stupid at the same time. his hand goes to his temple to rub it slightly, and he closes his eyes.
“not with bahiyyih.” anton says quietly.
it was in front of your face the whole time, offered to you on a silver platter. you ignored it each time. maybe you didn’t deserve anton. but he was about to leave your life forever if you didn’t do something about it.
“i want more than just sex.” you blurted out. “i want more, too.”
anton’s eyes got wide while he looked to you. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, how sincere your voice sounded. 
“i like you anton. i don’t know why i’m so scared to tell you.”
anton not saying anything back to you caused your mouth to begin running. you couldn’t stop yourself from being uncharacteristically honest with him. 
you felt stupid until anton held your hands in his, looking deep into your glazed eyes to see if you were lying.
“do you mean it?” anton said simply.
if you said another word, you were sure you would cry. so you nodded your head and closed the gap between you and anton. it was a quick and simple chaste kiss on his lips, but both of you knew what the kiss really meant. the war was over, and your contract of no strings attached was finally null and void.
anton smiled before kissing you the same way you kissed him. anton pecked your lips over and over as he lead you to his hips again. you go back to straddle his hips but anton doesn’t let you settle before he picks you up.
“wanna be my girlfriend?” anton asks.
you smile like an idiot in love and nod your head.
“wanna be my boyfriend?” you ask back.
you can feel the heat on your face as anton nods his head and smiles. he leans into another kiss while smiling, loving the feeling of your lips against his.
anton walks you over to the bed and lays you down on the sheets. the word slides off his tongue perfectly. anton doesn’t waste a second before crawling above you. his hand rested by your head while he hiked one of your legs up. he placed a strong kiss to your lips, one that left you lifting your head so it would take longer to break. anton looked down the space between your two bodies, his dick sitting upright looking for stimulation. anton lowered his body until it was resting on yours, almost crushing you with his weight. he bent his legs until his tip found your founds. 
anton used his dick to shallowly thrust through your folds, loving the sound of slick and his sticky tip interacting. he loved hearing your whines as he teased you, and seeing your squirming hips as you tried to get his dick inside of you. anton kissed your cheek and you only tried to kiss him back a beat later, your mind preoccupied with all the teasing. anton used the arm on your leg to drag you down slightly, bringing your hole closer to him.
“you’re not just saying you like me so i’ll keep fucking you like this right?” anton asked.
you shook your head immediately, heart hurting at the tiny amount of pain you detected in his voice.
“i like you alot anton,” you loved the feeling of the confession rolling off your tongue. you wished you had said it sooner. “i like you so much.” you repeated. 
“good.” he kissed your cheek again. the tip of his dick was prodding at your entrance, and you couldn’t stop pulsing. “can i fuck my girlfriend now?” he asked.
anton asking you something so lewd with the gentle and airy tone in his voice nearly left you in tears as you nodded your head like an idiot. anton pressed a deep kiss to your lips, sticking his tongue in your mouth in the same moment he slid into you. you could barely kiss him back, moaning at how full you felt. you fought to keep your eyes open, loving the view of anton’s large body above you and his big eyes that were full of adoration. you can’t believe you almost let yourself lose him. anton must’ve felt the same, because he pressed his lips to your forehead before going into the crook of your neck. he pulled all the way out and slid back in, so slow you could feel every vein and every twitch of his dick. you walls spasmed around his thick dick, causing anton to groan into your ear when he tried pulling out.
“can you feel me?” anton asked. 
he had a sarcastic twinge to his voice, like you weren’t almost struggling to take all of him. 
“yes,” you pulled back your hips to meet anton’s slow thrusts. “your dick feels so nice.” you whimpered.
“your pussy is wet and tight,” anton licked the shell of your ear before blowing cool air on it. “all for me.”
he pulled his head from your neck to watch himself disappear into your pussy. he pulled all the way out, messing up the tempo he set, all so he could watch it again. anton’s body shivered against yours, you brought your hand to the nape of his neck to play with his hair.
“it’s a perfect fit.” anton said.
he sounded astonished, seeing how well you took him and feeling the sensation of you closing in around him.
”so perfect.” you agreed.
you loved the puffs of hot air you felt on the shell of your ear and your neck, the way it was followed by anton’s tongue licking the area. these were the motions you guys have gone through a million times before, but knowing that anton was yours now and you were his heightened everything.
“i’ve wanted you like this for so long.” anton breathed into your ear. 
“you should’ve told me.” you whined out.
anton’s hair was soft in your hands, his locks tickling your knuckles. you gripped his hair to only lightly tug on it, you preferred just feeling an extension of him in the palm of your hand. anton laughed against your neck, pulling his lips from a forming bruise with a gentle pop.
anton put his arms around your and sat up, bringing your body up with him. he manhandled you into a new position, one where you were both facing eachother and sitting up. you had never seen anton from this angle before, having to lock eyes with him while he fucked up into you slowly. his hand on your side next to your chest helped you stay up in the air so you had to do little to no work. his large hand on your side covered most of the area, his hand accidentally teasing your sensitive nipples. when anton saw your face change from the slight stimulation he experimentally moved his fingers that pressed into your boob. you let out a sigh from the feeling, and anton looked up to you before jutting out his bottom lip.
“why didn’t you tell me?” anton pouted.
you weren’t sure what he meant until he took your entire areola into your mouth. you clenched around him tightly, and he let you set the pace for riding him. feeling anton’s tongue expertly flick over your nipple drove you insane. you were bouncing on his dick faster than you ever had, feet planted on either side of his body to give yourself more leverage. you made sure to not go to high, so anton could keep your tit in his mouth. 
anton loved seeing you bounce on him with a new vigor. he had never seen you perform quite like this when you were only his fuck buddy. but now that you were his girlfriend you rode him with a purpose, and a tiny voice in anton’s head told him that you had to be trying to get pregnant. anton would have to wait to tell you how bad he wanted to give you a child, one with your beautiful smile and personality. he let his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your nipple. you whined and leaned your body back, fingernails digging into the skin of anton’s shoulder.
“so good anton. so good.” you praised.
anton moved to your other breast after wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. he needed you as close as possible when you came, and he needed to see your face as he did it. anton separated his mouth from your nipple only to sloppily lick the areola. this was his first time playing with your breasts so extensively and he was already obsessed with it. the way the supple skin melded into his lips and how reactive you were to it. he loved the way you pet his head gently as he sucked on your chest, biting your lip to hold back high-pitched whines when he did something new.
anton reluctantly separated from your chest when he felt your hips begin to slow. you were not an athlete by any means, your legs already burning from riding anton for only a few minutes. luckily, your boyfriend was here for you. so he let you rest on his strong thighs while he slowly pulled back his hips to fuck you slowly again. anton would’ve continued with your fast pace but he needed to bask in the moment, to not get distracted by keeping up the fast speed. 
this seemed to effect you more, making you pull his body into your chest as you moaned loudly. the feeble attempts to be quiet was long abandoned, and anton loved that. he wanted his whole frat house to hear how good your boyfriend was making you feel. he could feel the vibration of your voice through your chest, the sound slightly muffled on one side because of how tightly you were pulling him in.
when you were getting close, you pulled anton from your chest and moved your hands to his face. he looked into your blown out eyes and you looked into his. he ran his tongue over his swollen lips before you let out a prolonged moan.
“anton i’m close.” you whimpered.
only then did anton let himself slam your body down on his. he loved the way your voice shook when he got a little rougher. he was still just as slow as he let out a groan.
“fuck,” anton pulled you back down on him again. “me too.” he grunted.
“can you do it inside?” you asked. 
your voice had gotten quiet and breathy. anton smiled and nodded before kissing your lips. you were too cute when you were shy.
anton brought you down one more time before you crumbled into his arms. you used the remaining amount of your energy to try and overpower anton, needed to feel him fully inside of you while you uncontrollably spasmed around him. you could feel your cum seep around his dick and anton leaned back to watch you swivel your hips trying to get him deeper inside of you. it was pitiful and beautiful, seeing his girlfriend chase her pleasure like that. 
seeing you high off of him made him follow closely after you. anton gripped your ass and panted into your chest while he shot ropes of cum directly into you. it caught him by surprise, it left him a whimpering mess while his head resting on your chest. when you rose your hips to come back down it was his turn to exert his strength, easily keeping you in place while he continued to whine out your name over and over again. you continued to milk him and anton felt like he was cumming for centuries. 
he brought you down with him to the bed, both of you panting. you rested on anton’s chest and felt him squirm underneath you from stimulation as he pulled himself out of you. your hole continued to seize around nothing, still coming down from the high anton brought you to.
the sweat on your chests was cold on your skin by the time you regained your sanity. anton’s hand traced shapes on your back, and you shivered when he lightened his touches more and more. you heard shuffling outside, probably the sound of his fraternity brothers moving around the house. 
you looked up at anton from his chest and smiled when you saw he was already looking at you. he pinched your cheek and you kissed his chin. you moved some of his hair from his face and he kissed your hand once you were done. you sighed contently feeling his body underneath yours, resting your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.
“so you’re gonna take me to the formal right?” you ask, smiling against his skin.
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lunarw0rks · 7 months
Note
the scenario: you’ve been really pent up lately, stress between work + everyday life and graves decides that he’s gonna help you de-stress (by riding him 🤭)
in the act, you’re practically fucking yourself stupid, like into oblivion…deep in. and you don’t even realize how overstimulated graves is getting until he literally pulls you off him (he came about three times prior)
🗝 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣 🗝 𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔭 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰
a/n: anon -- send me that audio you were talking about, too!! ;) not proofread/edited. warning(s): nsfw, established relationship, overstim. (g & r), stress relief but make it steamy, husband!graves, fem!reader ───have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗
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As if the day couldn't have been worse, you dropped your keys when you made it to the door. Every muscle ached as you bent down to pick them up — now upright with a tight scowl on your face.
The lock struggled until you jerked the key around a few times, finally hearing the click when it budged. With a flustered grown, you stepped inside and shut the door behind you, greeted with the comfort of your home. Dim and quiet, but still preferable over the migraine-inducing fluorescents of your workplace.
Your purse slid off your shoulder, falling somewhere on the hard ground. Frankly, you didn't have a care in the world about picking it up. That was a task for the morning — the first day of the weekend after a hellacious work week.
You made your rounds in the kitchen first, cracking open the first bottled beverage you could get your hands on. Flavored water, though if it would've been alcohol, you weren't in any mood to refuse. You finished the drink with heavy breaths, setting it down on the counter.
"Tough day, darlin’?" His well-acquainted voice hits your ears soothingly, shifting your attention from the counter below you to him. Wearing one of his old PT shirts and boxers, still visibly disheveled from lying in bed.
You bite back the urge to be snarky, reminding yourself that it’s indeed not the fault of the man comforting you that’s got you so worked up.
“Just work.” You mumble, then let out a defeated sigh. It’s your shitty boss, it’s the overwhelming workload, it’s everything, really.
With his lips pressed into a line, he nods as if he’s simply accepted your answer. You know by now that his wheels are turning, however.
“Mind if I help?”
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
You didn't get a full breath of air until his back finally hit the mattress, nor did you bother to get undressed fully. Instead, straddled him in your work clothes; panties pulled aside, button-up disturbed and slightly open from his yanks.
Graves found it best to say nothing unless it was muttering a comfort or praise into your ear. But you still hadn't let go of those frustrations yet — even with his honeyed worship.
Even after you pulled your first orgasm, even after his warm spurts of cum filled you — you had no desire to stop.
The silver lining? Whatever got you so worked up had long passed. Now, all you could scrounge in your psyche was the sensation of your husband's cock crammed up inside you.
His tip, reddened and slick with his seed and your arousal, still upright and swollen despite how long you've been using your cunt as a means for abuse. Nothing but a toy, at least while you were in the midst of a sour mood.
But Graves had no qualms about that; watching your tits bounce, your face contort as you moaned, the sweat rolling down your forehead until it went between your cleavage. His rough hands are on your hips, aiding you in swallowing every inch of him. Each time you'd clench or constrict around him, he felt another jolting sensation — inching him towards yet another release.
You hadn't stopped once, only slowed when you needed to readjust or cope with the burning of your thigh muscles. The pleasure was too divine to halt entirely — evident in how you had successfully overstimulated yourself and him.
"That's it, doll. Look at you..." Though his smirk had turned more into a muddled expression of ecstasy, his praising and bluster prevailed. Your soaked, pillowy cunt pulsing around his length, rendering him officially pussydrunk.
The lude squelches increased in volume when you began rocking against him at a wicked pace, feeling your third orgasm approaching rapidly. Remnants of the previous were leaking out of you, either spilling down your inner thighs and onto the sheets or being fucked back into you when he would thrust upward to meet you.
Graves' head snapped back against the pillows, yet again ready for another quick release. Every time he thought you would be too fatigued to continue, you rutted and got more desperate for another rush of erotic euphoria. It was too much, even for him — but you were too goddamn attractive like this, using him as an appendage to fuck away the frustrations, mouth wide open, hair ruinous and damp with sweat.
With the little strength he had left, he found himself determined to make this orgasm triumphant over the others. Before, all he had done was lay back and be used, but currently he found himself sitting up to meet you chest to chest.
His speech was slurred, as desperate as your bellows of pleasure. "Good girl, gorgeous. Keep usin' my cock— gonna cum again, aren't you? Atta' girl." His thumb found your puffy clit, circling and applying pressure to surge your approaching finish. Focusing on much of anything when so deeply stimulated was hard enough — however, this, he could manage.
How your moans had gotten louder, how you began to tremble all over again, it was worth it. Your eyes rolled slightly, head in the crook of his neck when you came undone around his cock for a third time. Nails dug into the tanned flesh of his shoulders, muscles tightening as the coil in your abdomen expelled all at once.
Overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, heightened by the two climaxes before. This one is the most daunting, the most fiercely shown on your body.
He had reached his own finish while you were too lost in your own. You only noticed when you heard his desperate grunts, that hot searing deep inside you as his cum spurted deep within you. Your back seemed to be stuck in a partial arch, every muscle in your thighs burning and aching for rest. But your mind was a fog, a fog with only one thing on your mind; more pleasure.
Graves fell back against the mattress as the remainder of his intense orgasm retreated, completely out of breath and flushed.
With less effort than before, your hips resumed a meek grind, powering through the ache of over-exertion. Another whimper slipped you as your nerves fizzled with the mounds of stimulation resuming all over your body.
His eyes shot open again, hands digging into your sides and forcing them to halt, "no more, sweetheart, you're exhausted." He slurred, taking a few seconds to lift you off of his now softening length. His cock fell limp against his thigh, slick and with a milky ring where you had creamed in the heat of the moment.
"I-I'm sorry, baby. Got carried away, huh?" Your chest heaved repeatedly, eyes lidded and drowsy — and all from your own doing. He barely lifted a finger, so to speak, and you were fucked-out. To think seconds ago you were desperate for another release and rutting again was miraculous. You found yourself slumped on top of his sweaty chest, still in the midst of catching your breath.
"You could say that darlin'. Don't think there's anything left down there." Graves chuckled slightly, though the expression was subdued with exhaustion.
He snaked up an arm, brushing away your sweaty strands and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Christ, you're shaking."
The sheets shuffled as they rubbed against each other until the throw blanket was draped over your trembling frame, engulfing you both into a literal bed of warmth.
Your eyes drooped without effort, the flutter of his heartbeat muffled as your senses dulled. The last sound you heard before plunging into much-needed sleep was his soothing voice. "Get some rest, sweetheart. Just sleep for me now..."
2K notes · View notes
darby-rowe · 2 months
Note
imagine coryo cumming in his pants randomly in class because he just had a thought of you bent over for him and now he has to hide the wet stain
ANON YOURE A GENIUS
18+ | nsfw | mdni cw fem!reader, not proofread
underneath his cool and pompous exterior, coriolanus was still, at his core, a horny teenage boy.
which is why he tries so hard to not think of you during class: your smile, your laugh, the smell of your perfume, how intelligent you were. he thought about you in the academy's long red pleated skirt and how it fell just below your knees. and protruding from your skirt came your legs clad in tights, and your pretty little shoes that made the muscles of your calves flex every time you walked.
coriolanus could already feel his mind slipping to more lewd thoughts, like the time he saw slightly bent over a desk, your hands grabbing onto the edges as you were deep in conversation with a friend. he thought about how you'd look if you were bent over at a complete 90-degree angle, and he stood behind you gripping your hips. he imagined that sexy smirk of yours as you'd crane your neck to look him in the eyes, and your ass would slowly begin to hump against his hardened cock pressed painfully against his slacks.
"coryo..." his name escaped your lips like steam rising from a boiling pot of water. his mind led down a dangerous route, as he became hyperfixated on how your ass would feel grinding against his crotch, the delicious melody of your moans, and the filth that would escape his lips as he watched you be so lewd for him. you would keep going, and going, humping, grinding—
coriolanus gripped his mouth as he felt his cock throb and spurt out warm ropes of cum in his bright red pants, his body slightly jerking forward from the unexpected release. he looked down, and to his horror, was a generously sized wet patch right on his crotch. immediately, he took his leather satchel and placed it on his lap, feeling his face burn a deep scarlet.
he flinched as you tapped him on the shoulder, whipping his head to look at you and your adorable look of concern. "are you okay?" you whispered, trying not to interrupt the ongoing lecture from the professor at the front of the room.
coriolanus swallowed hard, awkwardly shifting on his seat. "yes," he choked out, forcing a nonchalant smile. "i'm fine. thank you for asking,"
and he could have survived the rest of the lecture if it weren't for your beautiful smile and the softness of your touch on his arm. "i'm here if you need anything, okay?"
at that moment, coriolanus could have sworn you were doing this shit to him on purpose.
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dancingbirdie · 4 months
Note
I saw you did a new submission for Astarion. Is it okay if I ask for another thing for Astarion who’s very submissive and whiny for your touch?
Hi anon! I hope I did your request justice. I was feeling a little angsty today and this is what came out. Feel free to submit another request if this didn't scratch your itch, so to speak.
As always, comments and reactions are appreciated.
xoxoxo
Bring Me Back
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), slight hand/finger kink, body worship, mentions of blood & gore, trauma/trauma response, disassociation, fluff and angst and smut, p0rn with a little plot.
Summary: Astarion just needs some love and comfort from you after a particularly brutal fight.
*****
There was blood on his hands. Too much. Dried and crusted, saturating the wrinkles around his knuckles. He sat on the edge of the bed you were sharing, hands limp in his lap. 
He’d killed so many today. You all had, but he more so than anyone else. It had been a vicious battle, the reality of which seemed to be sinking into his bones now. 
“Astarion?” you ventured carefully. You were carrying in a water pitcher and basin you had pilfered from the cook’s quarters downstairs. 
He didn’t seem to register your voice. You tried again, moving cautiously to kneel on the floor before him. 
“Astarion?”
“Hmm?” he responded, his glassy eyes finally sharpening enough to take you in. “Oh, apologies, darling. My mind… it must’ve wandered.”
“Are you feeling all right?” you probed in a low murmur. 
“I feel…,” he trailed off, his head shifting to stare vacantly out the dingy window near the bedside. “Numb.”
“Numb?” you echoed.
“Mm. Disconnected, more like,” he amended distractedly. 
“Hm, I see,” you replied, unsure of what more there was to say. 
Certainly you could understand the feeling. And certainly it was justified, after the carnage you all had wrought today. No matter how noble the cause, things had still ended in a tide of blood and viscera. 
You were at a loss for how to comfort him. But the rational part of your brain settled on addressing the most immediate problem before you. Namely, the blood on his hands. 
“Astarion,” you soothed, waiting until he turned back to look down at you again. “I’d like to clean up your hands before we rest.”
He stared at you blankly. Then slowly, his gaze drifted down to his hands. He turned them over, palms up, studying them absently.
“Is that okay? Can I touch you?” you pressed. 
You knew his displeasure in being touched without warning. You’d seen his reactions frequently enough, on the road with your other companions. Each clap on the shoulder from Gale. Each good-natured shove from Karlach. His response was subtle, but not lost on you. He would grimace and shrink away. Every time.
“Touch me?” he repeated now, brows upturned.
“Yes,” you nodded. “To clean your hands of the blood, love.”
He shuddered. You watched as his fingertips twitched. His bottom lip trembled. 
“Please,” he uttered in a broken plea. 
You nodded again and set to work. Gingerly, you lifted each hand, cradling it with reverence. You passed the rag soaked in tepid, rose-scented water over each digit, in between them. You swiped under each nail, over each knuckle, clearing his fingers of blood, one by one. You soothed over his palms, over the patchwork of calluses on the pads of fingers, over the delicate skin of the backside of his palms. He watched you in silence as you carried out your cleaning, mesmerized. 
The basin was colored deep crimson by the time you finished. Grabbing a dry cloth, you patted his hands dry. You squeezed them both gently before moving to release them. You prepared to stand and get yourself ready for rest. 
But Astarion stopped you. His hands, once limp while you were caring for him, suddenly clutched yours desperately. Your eyes whipped up to meet his in surprise. They were limned in tears that had yet to fall. 
“Please,” he whispered in a desperate sort of voice. A whine, almost. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop touching me.”
You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to make of his plea. 
He plunged ahead at your reticence. “I can’t… I want to be here. In this moment. But I can’t find my way back,” he croaked. 
His voice, so broken, so desolate, was rending your heart in two. It was more than you could bear. 
“Touch me,” he begged. “Bring me back. Please.”
You nodded, never breaking eye contact, as you rose from your crouched position on the floor before him. Tears streamed silently down both of your faces. Neither of you made a move to wipe them away. 
Slowly, carefully, you urged him to shift back on the bed as your legs parted to straddle him. Perched atop his lap, you threaded your fingers through his silvery locks. Pulled on them slightly. Tugged at them until he groaned. 
His hands grasped your hip bones, hard enough that you were sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t mind. You would cherish them, those marks from your lover. 
“Come back to me, love. Come back to me,” you whispered in between hot, open-mouthed kisses. Your tongues danced together, like old friends.
You nipped at the hollow place near his clavicle. You sucked on the skin where his neck met his shoulder. His needy, breathy whines only goaded you further. You hoped the fire that was igniting in your veins would transfer to his. If the way his hips were canting into you was any indication, you were both tinderboxes itching to be set ablaze. 
“Be here. Be here, in this moment with me,” you crooned in his ear, rolling your hips into his. You were both still fully dressed, but your bodies crested and fell together in perfect timing. A practice performance for what was to come. 
“Yes, yes,” Astarion keened, as you slipped a hand to brazenly rub the flat of your palm against his erection. The fabric of his breeches was strained to the point of stretching. 
“I’m here,” he panted. “I’m here.”
“Good, stay with me, I want to taste you,” you whispered. “Come back to me, let me taste you.”
“Fuck, please,” he moaned, his head drooping onto your shoulder. He was so pliant in this moment, like putty in your hands.
“Lie back,” you ordered, nudging him backwards with your body. “Untie your breeches.”
“Yes,” he agreed, all too eager to follow your command. Chest heaving, he reclined further back onto the bed. His fingers quickly set to work on freeing himself from his leathers. 
“That’s it, darling, yes,” you cooed, watching him bare himself before you. “Stay here with me. Watch me. Watch me keep you here.”
“Gods, yes, yes,” Astarion whined, lifting his head to witness you take him fully in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” you heard him bark wantonly above you. Felt his hips cant himself deeper into your mouth, until your lips were meeting the base of him. 
His dulcet whimpers and moans were music to your ears. As you worshiped him with your mouth. As you caressed him lovingly back into his body, back into this moment, back into this bed with you. 
You could sense he was close to climax as his hands gripped your hair tighter and tighter. You swirled your tongue around him with greater fervor, teasing him closer and closer to the edge. 
“Let me come in your mouth, please, darling, please,” he keened, hips bucking erratically against you. 
Refusing to bring him down from this high with words, you met his eyes and nodded your assent, gripping his thighs tighter as if to say go on then, love. 
And he did. He spilled himself down your throat in delicious pulses. You swallowed every bit, relishing his release as if it were your own. 
With a soft pop of your lips, you released him. Licked him clean, before stretching out to lie on the bed beside him.
His chest was heaving as he recovered. You delicately traced the muscles of his abdomen as he came to. After a few moments, he lifted a hand to clasp your fingers. Stilled them with his own as they interlaced on his chest. 
“Did you find your way back?” you whispered. 
He turned his head to look at you. His lips upturned in a quiet, muted sort of smile. 
“Thanks to you,” he returned quietly. “I’m here again. Here with you.”
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totalswag · 7 months
Text
how much did you drink? — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note hi loves!! i know i disappeared for awhile, my personal life got extremely busy and i never had time to write on my computer. i'm so excited to be back and writing for you guys though. this fic has been in my google doc for small minute and i got a request from an anon somewhat similar to this fic too, lol.
summary y/n getting a little too drunk at a party and rafe has to come pick her up
warnings drinking, swearing, smoking, sexual tension, implied smut?
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Lets face it, you were drunk, like really drunk.
You made the decision to come out on a Saturday night with Sarah to John B’s. People dancing, making out everywhere, smoking, drinking, along with loud music.
As the night progressed you were on the table dancing with your best friend with bottles of tequila in your hands, everyone cheering you two on as you continued dancing.
“I’m having so much fun tonight” your words are slurring at this point. 
“Me too,” your friend giggled.
Topper and Kelce shook their heads while they stood near the kitchen. Rafe, your boyfriend, told Topper and Kelce to watch you simply because he wasn't at the party.
“She's about to do something dumb” Topper murmurs, and Kelce nods in agreement.
Kelce replies, "I think it's time we called Rafe."
Topper calls Rafe, while Kelce tries to get you off the table but fails when you say no and to go away so you can drink more. Kelce turns around, sending Topper the clear message that Rafe needs to arrive as quickly as possible.
"Yo, Rafe, sorry for bothering you, but Y/N is really drunk and dancing on the table, and she won't listen to us" Topper scratched his chin, glancing at Kelce, who was attempting to get you off the table.
"Are you being serious?" Rafe must have been in a deep sleep based on the sound of his voice. 
"Yeah, could you pick her up?" He begs.
Topper can hear Rafe's end shifting, "I'll be there soon, just keep an eye on here, please." Rafe sighs and hangs up the phone. 
Meanwhile, Topper and Kelce were eventually able to get you off the table by claiming a drinking game was about to begin, which was correct. You stood in the kitchen with the guys and few other friends watching while others set out the red solo cups on the board.
Your friends came into the kitchen to see what you were doing and they were worried about you because they couldn’t find you.
"These two have me on lock down so I don't drink anymore but oddly waiting to play a drinking game," you add, staring at the girls before wandering your gaze over to Kelce and Topper, who are in the middle of a conversation with a few of their buddies.
Your friends laugh, shaking their heads, telling you, you should still be drinking and having fun.
"I'm so drunk right now, it's not even funny," you hiccuped as your body swayed back and forth, almost knocking you off your feet.
Topper leaned over the counter, grabbing you before you fell.
"Y/N, please drink the water," he says as he puts the water bottle out to you, you look at him, shaking your head as you push it away with your hand.
"Drink the water now, Y/N, we're going home," your boyfriend said, filling your ears. You circle around, placing your arms around his waist, excited. 
"You guys are no fun," you scoff.
"That hangover isn't going to be fun in the morning," Rafe responds. 
“How much did you drink baby?” he asks, lifting your chin up, making eye contact with you.
“I drank a lot and smoked too” you answered truthly, hiccuping.
"You are so hot, I could just fu-" you run your hands down his stomach, removing his shirt a little and gliding your hands on his exposed skin. Rafe stopped you before you could complete your sentence.
Usually when you drink too much and Rafe’s around you get very touchy with him and start saying unholy words from your mouth which leads to fucking or you need to really sober up. You can’t stop but think of how good he looks right now.
Rafe comes to these types of parties with you but tonight he wasn’t feeling it. He trusts you going to parties with your friends or the guys cause he knows you would never do anything that can hurt your relationship.
"All right, that's enough for the night. "Seriously, drink the water," he says, twisting the cap and handing you the water to sip. You realized nothing else would work, so you drank the water.
Rafe watched as you drank the water. When you get this drunk no one else can handle you unless it’s Rafe because he’s been around you enough to know. Your best friends get drunk with you so them being drunk trying to help you too doesn’t make the situation better.
When you finished the water, you wrapped your arms around Rafe, nuzzling your face in his chest mumbling words. He took it as a sign that you were ready to leave the party.
“We’ll walk you two out” Topper suggested to Rafe.
“Yeah that would be helpful, thank you” picking you up in braid style.
You lifted your head from Rafe's chest, confused as to why he began guiding you from the kitchen to the front door. "Why are we leaving?" you asked as you pulled away. "I want to stay," you protest, pointing back to your friends. 
Rafe sighs, closing his eyes, "baby you are drunk and have been drinking a lot" he pauses, "you need to rest too" you pout.
“Say goodnight to them real quick,”
When you walk back to the kitchen your friends eye’s light up but faces drop when you tell them you were saying goodnight. They told you to be safe and see you tomorrow.
“I better get dick out of this” you sarcastically state, making the girls laugh.
“I love you girls” you wave as you leave the kitchen.
You flip Rafe off as you walk past him, giving him a blank stare. He throws his hands in the air, shaking his head, then follows you out the door.
The car ride to his house took five minutes. You were knocked out in the passenger seat curled up in a ball. You woke up when you felt the truck come to a complete stop. Rafe opened the door, carrying you inside.
You start singing a song from the party when you enter the Cameron household. Rafe chuckled as he locked the door then came behind you.
“You need to stay quiet because everyone's sleeping,” Rafe whispered softly.
“Oh my bad” you quickly stop, putting your hand over your mouth.
He lays you on his bed and goes in his closet for clothes for you. He comes back with sweats and one of your favorite t-shirts of his. Before you could lift your shirt, he stopped you.
“Let me do it please” he kisses your cheek.
He led you into the bathroom to remove your makeup and then dab water on your face to freshen it up before taking you into bed. When you spent the night, there was Advil and ice water on your side of the bed. 
Rafe could tell you were still drunk by your facial expressions.
In your drunken state, seeing the Advil and water on the nightstand warms your heart, "Thank you baby," you look up, then pop the Advil in your mouth and take a long sip of the water. 
"Need to make sure my girl is okay," he grins.
"How about we get into bed and sleep?" He then pulls you both into bed.
You quickly close your eyes when your head makes contact with his chest.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months
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Remus Lupin x fem!reader requested by anon 18+
The night after a full moon always came with consequences. 
They were bruise shaped. Violet and lavender and seafoam green, littered across skin like an unwanted reminder. Scratches that would fade to new silver scars and aches and pains deep in his bones that made Remus feel sixty eight, not twenty eight. 
It was the only time he’d soak in the tub instead of taking a shower, something he’d usually deem much more proficient. But a new night came round and the threat of the moon was no longer in the sky. It made the air feel lighter and the feeling of sinking into the hot water, honey scented and filled to the brim, was overwhelmingly good. 
It was even better when you slipped in too.
Without speaking, you stood in the doorframe to the bathroom you shared with your boyfriend, overgrown plants on the window sill, steam and condensation making the tiles on the walls glitter. Remus peered at you from under his lashes, strong arms braced on each side of the old claw foot tub, head resting against the porcelain. 
You raised a brow at him, a question. You touched the hem of his shirt you’d thrown on, bare legs underneath. An offer. 
Almost immediately, Remus nodded, sitting up and playing the water lap at the sides, the only sound in the room as you walked in, taking off your shirt as you went. The plaid joined Remus’ clothes on the tiles and you hissed on entry, scalding water licking at your calves as Remus watched your bare figure, eyes sleepy but intent on catching each curve before they disappeared under the bubbles. 
You hummed as the boy reached for you, not trying to hide his need as he coaxed you onto his lap. The tub was just big enough for you to settle your thighs on the outside of his, your arms winding around his neck as you let your bare chest press against his. 
Another soft noise from your lips as Remus nosed at your cheek, an overwhelmingly affectionate thing that made your heartbeat a little faster. You smiled, turning so he could kiss your jaw, your chin. You dipped your head before he could catch your lips, brushing your lips over the fresh bruise that marred his cheekbone, the scratch on his shoulder you cleaned the night before. 
Your boy was bloodied and beaten, but he looked as pretty as ever. 
“Lemme kiss you,” Remus complained without any heat, his wet palm coming to cup your chin. “Babe.”
Your nose brushed his, gentle with him like you always were after a rough transformation. Any transformation, really. “Your poor lip,” you reminded him softly. The split in his bottom lip hadn’t stopped bleeding, still reddened when he woke up that morning, causing him grief as he tried to sip his coffee. “I’ll hurt you.”
Remus shook his head. “No, no you won’t.” His hands dropped to your waist, squeezing. He rocked his hips as well as he could under the water, in the small space. But it was enough to let you feel how hard he was, hot skin against yours, the slide and fizz of the bubbles between you. “Need you, y’know.”
You nodded, water clinging to your lashes where Remus had drawn a line across your brow, touch sweeping down the apple of your cheek, the slope of your jaw. He kissed each part, every bit of him warm, lips included. “I know,” you told him. 
So you rose onto your knees, one hand on Remus’ shoulders so you could steady yourself and the boy made soft gasping noises as you lined his cock up between your thighs, the head of him pressed to your cunt. You didn’t ask for his fingers first, none of the teasing he’d normally insist on before you took all of him. You wanted that stretch, the tight, hot burn of it. A little bit of pain clashed with the pleasure and you groaned as you sunk down, your noise levelling out to nothing, lips parted as you watched Remus fill you up. 
His hands were still on your hips, tighter than ever as he tried to keep himself together, head falling back to the rim of the tub, fighting to keep his eyes open. His thumbs were pushing circles into the soft of your tummy, his jaw clenching before his mouth dropped open in a punch out breath. 
When you were finally seated back on his lap, his cock snug inside of you, you swept a damp hand over his hair, pushing back the mess of curls so you could see his eyes. Full of adoration, an astounding amount of love that made you ache. 
“Yeah?” You asked him. You weren’t sure what the question was, but Remus seemed to understand, because he swallowed thickly and nodded. 
“Yeah,” he agreed. 
The water sloshed around you when you moved, lifting slightly onto your knees again, only just, before you sank back down. Small waves on the side of the bathtub, water rippling around you both that would surely end up on the floor but you didn’t care. Remus let out a groan as you rode him, each movement slow and deliberate and you could feel every inch, every ridge of his cock. It made you teary, how full you felt and maybe Remus could sense it, ‘cause he sat forward and gathered you in his arms, ignoring the throb from each bruise. 
If he had you, it was fine. It was bearable. More than bearable. 
“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, ducking his head to mouth at your chest, tongue finding a nipple so he could lick broad stripes over it. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart.”
On a normal day, you’d protest, bashful and hot in the cheeks. But you could only whine as Remus dropped his hands to your ass and squeezed, coaxing you to rock yourself over him. Water and bubbles spilled over the edge of the bath, but neither of you cared. The boy moaned into your neck, sucked bruises onto your skin that would match his, pulling at your ass cheeks until his wandering fingertips could feel where he was slipping in and out of you, the pink, wet parts of you that was stretched tightly around him. It made his hips stutter, it made him sink his teeth into the slope of your shoulder. 
“M’not gonna last,” he admitted, his energy was already gone. He’d hardly slept. But this? He needed this. “M’sorry, fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”
You nodded, hands running over his hair, his neck, his jaw, holding him there so you could kiss him as gently as possible. You whispered, voice soft, “s’okay, handsome. Come for me, yeah? Come inside me, okay? Want to feel you.”
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kennedyalike · 8 months
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hi pookie!!! i love ur writing <3 i would literally die if you wrote dom! leon x fem!reader smut with degrading and bondage and breeding 🤭
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Where do you think you’re going?
dom!toxic!boyfriend!leon x fem!reader
tags: possesive behaviour, smut, sex, p in v sex, fingering, bsdm bondage, ropes, breeding kink, toxic bf leon, mentions of breaking up, oral sex (both f and m receiving) degrading, toxic behaviour
word count: 1.7k
hi anon! i would LOVE to.. leon w breeding kink is the best<3 enjoy
You’ve finally mustered up enough confidence to leave him. Yes. You were going to do it finally. Leave your boyfriend of 2 years. There were many reasons to be honest but the main reason is that you feel trapped. He’s just so overprotective, controlling, possessive and….toxic.
Always trying to control your life and then he only defends it with ”But I know what’s best for you baby.” He’s manipulative and tries convincing you he just loves you so much. In all honesty, you love him way too much and deep inside you, you know you belong to him and you want to stay forever. But this is a desperate facade of an attempt to save yourself.
”Leon…Can we talk?” You shyly request while he undresses his jacket. He just came home from work. ”About?” He mumbles quietly while walking towards you. You look away for a second to brace yourself for what’s to come. ”Uhh…Well I wanted to talk a little about what I’ve been feeling like for a while.” You explain.
He stops right before you and his hands curl around your waist, pulling you a little closer to his muscular torso. Even though you’re breaking up with him, you can’t lie, he’s hot as fuck. Compression shirt on and the muscles looking so delicious under it. Veins on his arms and a muscly chest right in front of you. He stands taller and his soft ash blonde locks fluffle as he looks down at you. ”Talk.”
You hesitate for a second again before speaking up. ”I’ve kinda felt t-trapped and like…I don’t think this is working for me anymore.” You explain slowly while looking away. You wait a second for him to say something but he only looks at you straight in the eyes without his expression even quivering. ”Continue.” He demands and you start rambling again.
”W-well what I mean is..we need to break up. I-I can’t handle you controlling my life like this.” You finally finish. A slight smirk grows on his face as he leans towards you and whispers into your ear. ”We are not breaking up, sweetheart.” He says while his other hand leaves your waist to grab at your neck. The other still gripping your waist so tightly it almost hurts. ”Leon.. I’m serious…” You say while he slightly starts squeezing your neck, you paw at his hand and squeeze your thighs together.
”What? You thought I’d just take that from you? Sweet baby, you’re such a dumb slut. I know you want me so stop fighting it and be a good girl.” He’s not asking. A small whimper escapes your mouth and your lips part slightly. ”Leon…’need you.” You hear him chuckle under his breath before he withdraws his hand from your neck and grabs at your hips, turning your body around and pinning you face down to the wall.
”You really thought that would work, you’re such a little cutie, saying that while in this nightgown, you planned this didn’t you?” He groans into your ear as his hand squeezes at your ass and tits roughly, making you moan his name. ”Here’s what's gonna happen, baby. You’re gonna get on your knees and suck me off, if you do good enough I won’t tie you up.” He pushed your head down as you nodded and dropped to your knees.
The light coming from the kitchen made him look so sexy that you even wanted him to tie you up. You look up at him with puppy dog eyes as you unbuckle his belt and start pulling his pants down. He looks at you without a word. You wrap your hand around his hard cock and gently pump it up and down. His tip is pink and leaking and you feel your mouth watering as you bring your face closer to it. Your tongue lolls out and you start giving him little kitten licks. ”You’re begging for it, huh?” He growls and you start messily kissing all over his tip, slowly pumping his shaft while looking up at him.
Your mouth wraps around his tip fully and you suck a little, teasing him even further as he starts pushing your head down more. ”Faster..” He sighs as he grabs at your hair. You start going deeper, taking more of him in when his thrusts start getting sloppy. You almost gag when you push him deeper and deeper. ”Good girl…gonna cum.” He swears under his breath and suddenly you pull away from him, ripping his orgasm from him.
He hisses and looks at you, down on your knees with a smirk on your face. He roughly grabs at your hair and yanks you forward, his cock hitting your face messily. ”You wanna be a brat?” You just moan as he lifts you up, pushing you towards the bedroom. ”Leon…Don’t have to get so mad…” You giggle.
He pins you to the bed and starts rummaging through the closet, getting ropes. You know what’s coming and you can’t help but to press your thighs together when you feel that erotic feeling between your legs. ”You gon’ tie me up, Leon?”
”Yes. You’re gonna be begging for me to stop.” He says as he lifts your arms up and ties your wrists together tightly, then ties them up to the bed frame. He looks at your body while moving down to tie your ankles the same way. You squirm a little and pout at him. ”Too tight, Lee…” You tease him.
”You can take it.” He cooed as he hovered above you, taking in your appearance. Silky nightgown with no panties under and hardened nipples peeking through the fabric. ”So gorgeous, all for me to use.”
You whine and nod as his cold fingers sneak under the hem of your dress, landing on your clit. You buck your hips up for a little sensation and he holds them down. Starting to rub circles on your clit with his cold thumb. ”Ah- Leon..” You moan as he pushes two fingers inside your wet hole. He pumps them up and down with a steady pace, pleasuring you as his thumb still rubs your clit. He studied your expression and nibbled small kisses to your neck.
”Leon! Fuck.” You whimpered as you tugged the ropes and squirmed around, the pleasure fogging your mind and your body feels so at mercy under him, tied up like this. Fuck, every little touch he gives you makes you squirm and moan.
He pulls back to leave you wanting for more, slowly he unzips your dress and reveals your naked body to him.
You squirm a little when he’s dressed and you’re naked and tied. ”Leon-hhh… please.” You whine again when you tug at the ropes. ”No baby. You have to be a good girl, got it?” He asks while lifting his shirt off of his body and hovering over you again. ”You can do that for me, can’t you, bunny? Don’t be a brat.” He says as he pecks you on your lips before they latch on to your neck again. Slowly your eyes close as his kisses reach all the most sensitive spots, wet sloppy kisses behind your ear, on your neck, collarbones, tits, the soft skin of your stomach too as you writhed under him. ”Please..touch me.” You begged. His lips kissed your hips and inner thighs, slowly moving more and more towards your pussy. ”Leon…”
”I’m gonna make you feel so good, you never have those stupid thoughts again.” He mumbles as his mouth latches on your pussy, tongue lapping at your delicious slick as he squeezed your thighs and ass. He sucked on your clit and chuckled when he heard your desperate moans. ”Ah! Oh my god! Feels so good…Leon!”
He pulls back from your heat and lifts himself up, kissing you roughly. You almost taste yourself in his kiss but that didn’t matter. His hands start untying you and you think he’s finally had enough of this punishment and is going to gently fuck you. No. He retracts from the kiss and unties your hands. ”Leon…Want your cock.” You yelp as he suddenly turns your body around, grabs your wrists and ties you down again. Now you’re on your stomach. He grabs a pillow and pushes it under your stomach and hips so that your ass is lifting up.
”Leon…hhh” You wince when his palm hits your ass, he spanked you. Your body jolts forward and your breath hitches. ”Just a hole for me, good for nothing else, you slut.” He grabs at your neck from the back and slightly chokes you while his other hand gropes your ass.
”Yes…just….your little fuck toy.” You whimper as your tongue lolls out. You feel his hard cock prod at your entrance from the back when his hands move to grip at your waist. You arch your back for him as you feel him pushing in.
”Such a tight little pussy…fucking whore. My whore.” He groans and he fully bottoms out. He starts fucking into you at full speed and your tits bounce, face in the pillow as you moan, almost screaming. ”Ah fuck! Leon! Too much…” He continues his speed and his other hand grabs your hair, pulling your head backwards while he bullies his cock inside you. ”Take it all. I’m gonna fuck you stupid so you don’t say stupid shit like that.” He says unamusedly while continuing.
”Gonna cum into you so hard.”
”I’m sorry! M’ sorry, Leon! I won’t say it again, ever. I love you…” You mewl when he starts rubbing your clit while still continuing at a fast pace. Your moans, muffled by the pillows, almost sound like crying at this point. Leon’s rhythm seems to not have stopped when his hips still rut into you, hearing sweet moans and low grunts from your boyfriend. ”Gonna breed this fucking pussy. Gonna cum so deep in you, you’ll be pregnant.”
”Ah fuck! Yes, Leon!” You moan as he starts thrusting deeper. ”That way you’ll never leave me, all filled with my cum and babies.”
”Yes! I wan’ it, Lee…”
”I love you, baby.”
Your knees feel like giving out as your arms shake and the uncontrollable wave of your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy walls clench around his dick as he holds your hips down, pushing himself so deep in you as he released a spur of hot cum in you, filling you so deep. ”Such a good girl…”
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months
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Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (I)
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AU MASTERLIST || PART II
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PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader
WORD COUNT: 6.2k
WARNINGS: Fluff, mentions of death, being hunted, vulgar language, price in a tunic (yes this is a warning by itself), awkwardness, nakedness, suggestive (?), implied age gap, etc.
A/N: I'm feral over this AU, ong. A million kisses to the Anon that brought this to my attention-btw this is definitely becoming a mini-series.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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Your family told you to never go beyond the deep waterways of the cove, never to brave the open sea. Times were changing. The Harpies, when they weren't as shrewd about their feathers getting wet, would fly down from their tall mountain spires and tell stories—ones about the hunting ships. 
They’d seen them, they said as your family listened on in horror from the rocks, dragging all manner of Merfolk up from the waters in large nets made of iron and hard steel. Spears that tore scales to take for profit. In other instances, the unlucky individuals were even sold to royalty to become showpieces in displays of high wealth and standing. 
But it wasn’t just Merfolk. It was all manner of mystical beast and being. Hunted. Sold. Humans, your parents had told you, were not friends. They were greedy and selfish; more than often cruel. 
And so they started to do the same unto them. Your family would lure them with their voices to the ends of the great ships that were brought close to your cove—watch as they hurled themselves from the sides into the grasp of the ruthless waves. They did it for you, they explained. To try and keep you safe. 
For years they did this until they were gone too. 
Suddenly the cove seemed more like a prison than a safe spot, and the Harpies no longer came to converse or tell news. Killed or taken you had no idea, but it was becoming fairly obvious that even interactions with your own people were impossible. Were you the only mermaid left? It was a good question to ask and one that you could never answer. All that you knew was that you had been alone for a very long time. 
That was, before you first laid eyes on the fisherman. 
You watch him now, yet again, from behind the sharp jutting body of the rocks; the water delicately bobs you up and down as your vibrant tail hangs limp in its otherworldly throes. Eyes softly wide and mouth parted in wonder. 
He’s walking along the deck of a small ship—not the large and intimidating ones of the other men that sail the seas—with a strong form. A hat on top of his head of brown hair and a well-trimmed beard of the same color made him look gruff in appearance. 
Your hands shift over the sharp black stone, and the nakedness of your top is covered by the long strands of your wet, uncut, hair. This man wore a plain white tunic and brown pants stuffed into large boots. Even as far as you were, you heard the soft whistled tune dancing in the shell of your ears. Delicate eyes watch, head slowly peeking out more and more. 
He was tending to the nets he had on the bow and as you studied him you were mystified. 
“Fascinating,” you whisper, unknown emotions swirling in you. 
His muscles strain, large and expansive shoulders lead down to a tapered waist; legs that you blink at before glancing at your tail under the rippling water. There’s a large grunt before the fisherman’s net is thrown in a beautiful arc, hitting the water with a slap and a spray of liquid as it begins to sink. Startled, you flinch back, gasping loudly.
With a racing heart, you quietly scold yourself for the childish reaction, flicking your tail in annoyance. Slowly but surely, your head peaks back out with water dripping down the flesh of your shoulders. 
But when you shift back into the open, you find a deep set of stormy blue eyes digging into your field of view. You freeze, seeing his lids go back in surprise and shock as your jaw slackens. A cold fear enters your veins at the new attention brought to you but you find yourself unable to look away. 
The Fisherman is the picture of utter stillness, just as you are, like twin mountains of ancient stone. Your nervousness only seems to grow as he doesn’t do anything—teachings and lessons about those who walk on two legs and sail in ships poking holes into your mind. 
Gawking and spying were one thing…but being seen meant death. You swallow stiffly and go tense, shifting to half-hide behind your rock. 
“Oh, no,” your mouth murmurs, self-hatred and fear lining the tone. “Oh, no, no, no.”
And yet the Fisherman had not moved, nor made any attempt to pull his sinking net back into his boat. Fish panic in the rope grave they’ve been ensnared in. His eyes….why are they so curiously locked on you?
You spare one last glance before shoving away from the rock and disappearing under the water with a violent splash; making off for the deep underwater caves that offer salvation. 
When you’re down there—in the darkness with only silent ripples of light to guide your eyes—you find it hard to stop thinking about the Fisherman and his strong jaw. His genuine awe at the sight of you. 
Had he not heard the stories of the Merfolk of this region? Or…or were you truly the last of your kind? 
The thought troubles you, and, riddled with anxiety, you go over to your store of shiny trinkets that you’d collected over the years; grabbing them in your hands and fiddling with them to try to put your mind at ease. The walls of the caves bare down on you and you hope you’d not just signed over your own death warrant. 
Maybe he’ll go away, you offer yourself, face tight and tail curled close, maybe he’ll be afraid and won’t come back. 
It was a pointless belief. They always come back—driven by greed or a righteous authority. Humans were cruel. 
But your brain goes back to stormy blue eyes like pebbles and softly parted lips. Orbs glinting with wonder and shock. No attempt to shout or grab for the large knife you’d seen strapped to his belt. 
A fisherman, you told yourself, who hesitated to go after the biggest fish of them all. 
You didn’t quite know if that made you more afraid or more intrigued. 
It was only after you’d spent three weeks in the underwater caves of the cove that you’d finally decided the coast was clear. You’d cautiously gone back through the winding seaweed and schools of marine life to hide in your little rock fort; afraid but brave. From under the waves in the calm of the water you’d scanned the surface for the shadows of a boat, anything to indicate that the man had returned. 
Nothing. 
Tension leaves your shoulders and you travel upwards, vibrant scales shimmering like jewels. You were quite close to the mainland, you would say, back to the shore to look out over the open entrance to your home. At the first sign of danger, the rocks would be your first point of shelter if you wished to remain hidden but continue to watch.
Ears popping as your head surfaces, you only look out with the water swaying below your eyes; nose and chin hidden. Sand from behind you shifts.
“Knew I’d seen something, then, eh?” Your heart lurches—brain flashing to hooks and nets; you shove yourself back under the water with a garbled gasp.
Fish around your form dash away as you frantically look back at the surface, your scales shining as the light hits them. Fingers tense in the water, you shift your body so that your form has its back to the floor of the cove and breathe quickly in your own mermadian way with shaking fins. 
On the very edge of the shore, you see the shadow of a sitting body in the sand. He hadn’t moved, this Fisherman. Was waiting as inanimate as an empty shell.
What had he said? You ask yourself, hair disturbed by the flow of the waves above your head. A gentle back and forth. After a moment of contemplation, the large muscle in your breast slows itself and a nervous curiosity grows.
Yet still, the shadow stays completely motionless beside the occasional itch and brush as facial hair. Waiting. 
Waiting to attack, your hand twitches in the water and you flutter your tail to take you closer to the open air, or waiting to see me?
Taking what you can describe as a deep breath, the top of your head once more breaks the top of the water; lashes dripping salty tear-drops as you blink away the sting. Every part of you is ready to disappear once more if things go south. 
And then you lock eyes once more. 
The Fisherman sits in the sand with his boots pushing up the granules—his right hand rests over his bent knee while the other keeps him up in a relaxed position from behind his back. You stare, the sun reflected in your eyes with a small glinting and hair in your vision. A foreign heat builds in your face when the man’s head tilts; tiny eyes narrowing as if he’d just proven a point to himself. 
Why doesn’t he seem surprised?
There’s a moment of a smirk that slashes his hidden lips but it’s gone in a fraction of a second. His mustache moves as he speaks and your face slightly bobs lower instinctually. The Fisherman doesn't seem hostile—he has a kind of stern comfort to him. 
Stubborn gruffness. And his accent only amplifies that fact.
 “Well, wasn’t expecting to find you here,” his chest rumbles with his words. You find you quite like the sound of it. Shells grinding against each other and pearls that clatter in palms. Your eyes widen with innocence. The Fisherman clears his throat, still watching carefully as the water sloshes over his boots. “Else I would have stayed clear when I still could.” 
Your hands tread water around you, tail flickering in small movements. 
The man's gaze darts down to stare as well as he could through the ripples. 
“Bloody Christ,” he murmurs to himself, returning your eyes once more, “thought you were all mostly extinct. Fuckin’ hell.”
“Extinct?” Your lips flinch, chin caressing the waves as brows pull up. The Fisherman blinks as if surprised to hear you speak. To be honest, you were half afraid you couldn’t either—how long had it been since you’d had a conversation above water? You spent most of your time passing comments to rare traveling Hippocampus and Sea Serpents.
Not that they could respond, of course.
By now your face had entirely left the water, that word startling you. Your chest tightens.
“What do you mean,” you ask the older man, this strange Fisherman who was shifting his weight in the sand, “extinct?” 
Dark brows furrow and his back slightly straightens itself. 
“You aren't exactly what I’d be calling common, Love. No one’s seen one of your kind in years.” Your face stills. 
“Years?” Head angling itself down, you stare at your reflection in growing fear. 
The Fisherman makes a move to stand, and you dart back swiftly. A pale hand is held in the air as if to sedate you.
“Easy, now.” It’s said softly, a grunt stuck at the beginning. A small moment passes before the man fully stands up, dressed similarly to when you’d seen him before. 
Top, pants, hat. There’s also a flash of metal around his neck, some piece of jewelry hidden on the chain under the layer of his thin, flowy, tunic. Hands go to cross over his chest in a display of muscle gained from a long time of hard work.
You nervously plead for an explanation, “B-but that…that doesn’t make any sense! I’m not the only one left!”
“No,” the Fisherman slowly states, taking off the hat from his head and delicately placing it on the ground. “No, you’re not the last.” 
His eyes dart along your visible body, trying to catch a glimpse of that tail that was in all stories about your kind. 
“Your name, Ma’am,” he asks, blue returning to your own sights, “what is it.”
“Well, what’s yours?” You counter, getting snappy in your anxiousness. “You come into my home and expect me to answer to you? And where’s your fishing boat anyways—unless a male Selkie has suddenly managed to brave the deep sea?” 
Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, but you had sworn the Fisherman had smiled at you; it was a swift slash of something that pulled his mustache back and wrinkled his face. An amused thing it was. A sort of tiny tease, in its own right.
Your heart beats steadily at the sight, eyes watching. 
“Well, I suppose you’re right, then.” He scratches at his beard with one hand, still studying you with a tilt of his head. As if weighing what he should tell you. There was an air of intrigue but that did nothing to hide the hesitance. “I docked my boat in the sea cave, thought it would do more harm than good to leave it in the open. If you’d seen it, you wouldn’t have shown, eh?” The Fisherman points and you look to the deep indent in the mountainside, the tiny ship visible as it stays stationary. You blink at it slowly. 
“And you can call me whatever it is you like, I don’t bloody care, but I’m not inclined to tell one of the Merfolk my name—I may have come ‘ere, but I’m not fuckin’ daft, now.”
It was true, what he spoke of. Names to your people have a stark and violent purpose. To know one's name is to own a piece of that person’s soul. Songs gain more power, words grow into orders followed without thought. Not that it was your intention.
You glower, brows pulling in. 
“A simple fisherman does well to know that it’s rude to speak ill like such in another’s home.” The man smirks, cheeks rising. 
“Simple, am I?” The already expansive build of his shoulders widens as he leans back on his heels, water sloshing at his boots. His eyes glimmer like lighting with humor. The look makes your cheeks burn with warmth, throat swallowing saliva.
“Why are you here?” You avoid the question, treading water and letting your tail drift. Willing the water to cool your senses. It was obvious that this man wasn’t a hunter—foolish, perhaps, but no hunter.
Or maybe just confidently brave. 
The Fisherman hums under his breath, grunting in the way you’d already come to associate with him. Rugged fellow, really. Weathered like a pile of old rope but still handsome, the sinews under the stain of dirt pure of color. You found yourself, however apprehensive, enjoying the squareness of his face; how the brunette’s hair would sweep in the warm breeze. 
He was attractive.
“Fishing, Ma’am.” A broad sweep of one of his hands, “You have a proper cove. Plenty of places to cast.” 
Your tight arms somewhat loosen. 
“Just fishing?” Your voice darkens. “Then why is it you’re here on shore and not doing just that.” Tail flickering, it lightly brings you back from him, eyes always darting away to stare into the background of his form—at the dark shadows of trees behind the dark rocks. At the open mouth of the cove in case of extra ships. 
If what he told you earlier was true, you were in danger just by living. 
Extinct? Not seen in years? No, that can’t be right. A deep knot forms in your stomach.
“I may be human, Ma’am, but I believe myself to be above intrusion.” The Fisherman splays his hands by his waist and shifts his thighs. He seems serious again, like a wave going forward and back he seemed to always revert to a crafted visage of firm resolve. “This is your home, and I’m asking to ferry my boat here when able. Nothing else.” 
You blink in surprise, brows pulling back. 
He was…asking you? 
“I…own the cove no more than the Manticore owns the desert,” your voice stutters, oddly touched by his sincerity. You pause and push yourself farther above a wave. This large man didn’t seem cruel to you. “I have no claim on the waters—they have been here longer than I. Do as you wish.” 
While that should have been the end of it, you found his blue eyes continuing to watch you, head tilted like a shaggy dog. Thinking deeply with a slight parting of his lips and rising to his lids. 
At the intensity of his silent wonder, your head goes light. Had you said something strange? No, it was just the truth. Then…why was this man’s face going to a modest pink shade? Why were his eyes darting away from yours and his feet shifting? 
You narrow at him before he speaks, clearing his throat and crossing his arms.
“Alright,” the Fisherman mutters, chest rumbling. 
A silence falls where your ears twitch to the lapping of the sea-foam and the feeling of blood in your veins which mirrors such movements. As you saw him do to you, your vision falls to the man’s body; looking across the tapering of his waist and the rolled sleeves of his tunic—showing off years of muscle 
“I don’t suppose…” Your tail flinches from the sudden noise from the brunette, expecting him to swim over to his boat and get to his business. You stare and listen, and for the first time, you believe a mermaid has been entranced by another's voice. “That I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again?”
The Fisherman speaks slowly, hands shifting on his biceps; thighs tense and settle. You allow the waves to connect and slide around your body and a feeling reminiscent of warm rocks in the sun grows in your heart. 
Strange, this man. This serious-faced Fisherman who asks one of the Merfolk for permission over the waters we don’t control. You tilt your head to teasingly mirror the brunettes. He humphs in his throat at your action. I enjoy him. 
At the first sign of danger you’d leave—but for now…talking felt good.
“Perhaps,” you say, lips twitching into a smile. “Would this nameless Fisherman enjoy the company of a mermaid? Not many would say yes.”
“I think you’ll find I’m not like those many, then, yeah?” He smiles, a small twitch of his lips. You begin backing up, getting to deeper water while maintaining eye contact. “I don’t care what you are, just that we have an agreement.”
“Very well,” your neck dips under the waves, tail momentarily peaking above the surface. Blue flickers to it, shoulders lowering in hidden awe. The Fisherman’s lungs still. 
He hears your giggle before you dive under, disappearing swiftly down to your caves with a splash. 
It’s a long while before the brunette picks up his hat and begins walking the length of the shore—strong steps taking him back to his ship with a tiny smile brightening his ruggedly handsome face. 
He runs a hand over his chin and chuckles.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
You perch on the side of the Fisherman’s boat, golden comb in your grip as you run it over and over through your locks. Tangles and knots are rendered useless to the fine and beautiful make of the object, the handle covered in small barnacles and seaweed. A nice breeze wafts in the air, and behind you, the padding of feet goes across the deck. With the sliding of nets and a small whistling from the Fisherman, you feel your tail gently sway from side to side; the bottom under the water whose waves rise and lower the vessel. 
It had been a week since your first meeting and you had become more relaxed about this man’s presence. He had been truthful—every day he would come and fish. 
At first, you’d watch from the black rocks, sitting atop them and studying. More than once you’d see the brunette raise a hand in greeting when his boat had entered the cove; an acknowledgment that you were there and nothing more. No expectation for you to come over or speak to him. 
Day after day you’d see the net being thrown from the side only to be reeled back by large arms, legs apart and firm to the deck. 
On day four, you swam over and grappled onto the side of the ship, curious. Before you could even realize he instantly knew you were there—despite his back being to you—the Fisherman spoke in a cheeky tone.
“Come up, then, if you’re that interested. No use watching from the water.” So you had, with a bit more fire to your cheeks than you thought mermaids could handle.
Now it was routine. The human man would pull into the cove and you would sit on the side of his fishing boat, doing whatever you wished as he worked. 
You pull your comb through the ends of your hair, placing it down after and closing your eyes before your hands grab the shiny strands, twisting them. Under your breath, you hum in tune with the Fisherman’s whistled song; the notes like a growing symphony in your head. 
Song to Merfolk is sacred and revered—everything sings, in its own right, and deserves careful crafting to fully understand. 
“You seem to enjoy that,” you startle to a stop, eyes popping open. Sharply looking over your shoulder, you pause your hands. Staring, the man has completely stopped his work; nets at his feet with slapping fish of all colors stuck in the rope’s limp weavings. 
He squints at your confused face.
“Rhythm.” 
“Oh,” you offer a smile and watch him look away only to kneel down and begin separating his quarry. “If you’re worried I’ll sing around you, think nothing of it—I know what that could cause.” 
The Fisherman hums, amused at you, “I’m not. I was complimenting you,” the knife at his belt glints in the light. “You have a pretty voice, Love.” 
You shyly watch him, hair partly covering your visage, and catch a glimpse once more at the necklace he seems to always wear. Silver and shiny but still hidden. 
“If you knew about my species, you wouldn’t be saying that.” Explaining lowly, the man grunts, sending a look your way as he tosses a Cod farther up the deck—you watch it flop around for a moment. 
“Well,” the Fisherman explains, hands pausing and body leaning closer as one of his knees connects to the wood. It’s a teasing whisper that slides into your drum, and you find yourself nearly shivering from it. Blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “I did. No worries, I’ll never tell.”
A deep chuckle joins a lighter one, and your tail shimmers in the open light; scales vibrant and rich-looking. From what the brunette can see on the deck—the smaller plates that extend all the way up your navel to stop at your belly button—you know he stares at them. 
Not a greedy, evil, stare…just one of hidden admiration. It was of no surprise to you that he found it beautifully uncanny.
You have no idea how to read this Fisherman; have no idea what he wants. You think he doesn’t want anything. On your face, a strange calm settles. 
“Tell me, Fisherman,” his gaze snaps from your scales to your face, momentarily stopping at the dip of your neck as you turn as fully to him as you’re able from your perch. Your hand rests at your side; spine twisted halfway. “Who are you? No, I don’t mean your name. I want your person. You don’t act afraid of me—of what I am.” He stays kneeling and lets the net rest for now, his heart beating steadily in his breast. “There is more to you than a human at sea, surely.” 
Your words are not accusatory, they lacked any sort of confrontation. Curiosity, though, like enclosed treasure, was stuck behind your tongue. He surprises you by standing and beginning to walk over, boots thumping. 
As he nears, he sits down with a huff on the edge, right next to you. 
There’s a moment when you both stare into each other's eyes as you feel the world shift. Blinking up at him, at the closer range you take into account the ancientness of his eyes and how it seemed, for such an alone man, it was making him look far older than he was. Still older than you, yes, but the sentiment still stands.
With his hat having been retired not five minutes earlier onto one of the many ship’s barren tops, you saw the streaks of sun-bleached strands in his brown hair. You unconsciously reach for your comb but stay your fingers as they flinch over the gold.
Storm-blue carefully glances away before coming back to you. 
“Not much to know, Love,” the Fisherman’s brow raises, “you understand?” 
“No,” you say, honestly, head tilting at him. He looks surprised, breath hitching. 
“It’s just…there’s not much to tell, Sweetheart.”
Humans are strange creatures.
Not knowing this word game, you take your hand away from the comb and bring it to his chest, slipping under the neck of his tunic to grasp at the necklace he always wears. A hand snaps to your wrist almost immediately—a startling speed that makes you flinch. 
Above your heads, seagulls squawk at you, but all you can gaze into are those pure blue orbs. They trap you, drag you down far faster than a whirlpool into the briny depths of hypnotic appeasement. 
Perhaps you were naive to the magical whims of males that walk on two feet.
The Fisherman’s jaw clenches, eyes tightly narrowed at you in hesitance and veiled threat. You blink at him softly, not doing anything besides twitching your fingers and widening your sight. Before long, his hold loosens but doesn’t leave, allowing you on whatever it was you were doing yet still touching your damp flesh.
Lips parting, you don’t make a fuss. Instead, you hum under your breath and allow his calluses to scrape you. The toughness becomes a stark contrast to your own make-up. 
Feels nice.  
Your digits peel out the article of jewelry and you shift closer to look; bare chest brushing against his. You can feel his pulse through the brunette’s tunic, the way his throat shifts in a tense swallow of nothing. 
The necklace held two pieces of small, round, silver and said the following. 
“Jonathan Price, Captain, 141st company under the King.”
As you read, your tail gradually begins brushing his leg in its swaying. Through it all, the large Fisherman only slants his chin down and watches, breathing half through his mouth and half through his nose. You hear his throat clear; feel his grip squeeze your wrist. 
It is a small and taken-aback kind of noise. He doesn’t move his hand.
You are happy he doesn’t. 
“You’re a…Captain?” Asking, you look up shocked and aren’t taken aback by how close your face was to his. Even if your cheeks begin to burn at the beard bristles itching your nose. 
“...Yes,” breathe puffs over the lower half of your face. Your fingers detangle from the Fisherman’s necklace and let it thump to his chest. “I was. Left.” 
Blinking, you whisper, steadily, “What’s a…Captain…?” 
A small sound is made in the back of his throat and he releases your wrist and pulls back before a loud bark of a laugh jerks his chest. You stare in innocent confusion, hair falling over your shoulders.
“What?” Gripping his mouth, Jonathan Price grounds himself by gripping his thigh as he chuckles.
“No, no,” he takes a deep breath and releases his face, smoothing down his beard quickly with amusement stuck in his smile. “Bloody hell, it’s nothing. Nothing at all, Love.”
He sends you a warm side glance and you huff, moving back and picking up your comb, getting back to brushing your locks again. You are acutely aware that you now know the Fisherman’s name, but refrain from saying anything until he does. Now you know why he reacted in such a way.
Your tail twitches in the water as fish brush past it and the brunette begins with a soft look. 
“I was in charge of a small group of men—we had a ship. Far larger than this old girl,” he pats the deck, and you slow your motion to show that you are listening, intrigued. “We did what was needed of us, but there was a thin line that needed to be drawn to keep every bastard sane.” 
Blue meets your eyes and the man’s expression darkens. Your fingers twitch as the breeze ravages his hair, chest tightening. 
“And yours?” You ask softly, entranced and open, “What was your line, Captain Price?” 
He hums after a small silence, sighing deeply. Along the hull of the boat, the waves rock the vessel gently side to side, and your mythical attention seems to entrap him far better than your voice could. His face loses that dark edge, well-trimmed beard relaxes as his jaw does. 
The past it seems, looms over him like a tsunami.
Reaching up a slow hand, his fingers brush the tendrils of hair that had slipped out of your hold and were dangling in front of your face; the Fisherman blinks and pushes them back behind your ear. By now your brush had long stopped and your breath was held in your chest. For the first time in your life, you think you feel yourself shiver at the delicate scrape of his skin on yours.
“John,” he mutters, and you suck down a shallow breath as he watches you like you were an idol of the Gods, “Just John.” 
Your smile leaves his fingers pressing deeper into your scalp and, perhaps a bit naively, you welcome him to you like a bird to the sky. You liked his gruffness—his beard and his face. The lines on his forehead that you could imagine tracing as if they belonged on a map instead of the squareness of this Fisherman’s profile. Tiny sockets that hold sapphire stones.
“Maybe I left because I couldn’t stand seeing such beautiful creatures being put to the hook, eh?” Your eyes widen, tiny gasp leaving your lips. 
Merfolk swooned with flattery, truth be told. They enjoy being doted on and praised; given gifts of both words and objects. You were no different. 
Oh…did he call me beautiful?
John smirks at your reaction, taking his hand off of you and standing with a low chuckle. Your tail flutters at the sudden absence, head following after him as he walks back to his net with a sway in his step. You blink in astonishment. 
“You’re a strange human, John,” calling to him, you grimace at the blatant disappointment in your bones at the lack of his skin on yours. At his humored hum, you sense your growing attraction to the grind of his vocal cords. His voice. “I don’t know what to think of you.”
“Then think nothing of me,” he explains easily, casually, re-gathering his nets in his toned arms. You try not to let your jaw slacken at the bulge under his tunic when he carries them. “I’m not offended by it, Love.” A sly look, “Do as you wish.” 
Your tail twitches so violently you’re afraid you might break the side of the ship. 
And so this strange dance between the two of you continued well into the longer months—John would come in his ship nearly every day and you would join him on the side of the deck. Sometimes you would hum for him and he would whistle a tune back, others there were long bouts of conversation about the ways of humans and beasts. John told you that the King had ordered the total extinction of all manner of ‘strange and unordinary’ creatures to secure his line safely to the throne. 
When he had explained it, the mad had gone red with anger.
“Fuckin’ muppet,” he’d spit, fiddling with his knife as you watched a small distance away, playing with his silver necklace in your hands. You twiddled it around and liked how it shimmered like your scales did in the light. “Bloody thought I would just go along with the deaths of innocent beings. He had no facts—no proof to back up his claim. I’ve done things. Horrible things,” John explained to you, sending you a stiff look, “but I’ve not forsaken my damn mind to reality. Takin’ the piss.” 
Muttering the last sentence to himself, you had felt your lips curve into a smile. “You have a proper conscience, John, done bad or not.” 
“Yeah, well, Sweetheart, I’ll be done in soon enough.” You only stared with care-drowned eyes and caressed his necklace. When he had seen this, his body had deflated with an exasperated grunt. 
You shared a chuckle and he got back to work; feeling his melting gaze drawn back to you every so often. 
Later, yet again, you found your form on his boat, this time with his hands across the small of your back as you studied the blade of his knife.
“Careful, now. Don’t run your finger along the edge.” His free grip points to the sharp side—breath fanning your ear. You feel your throat tighten and nod, caressing a thumb on the leather handle. 
John’s hand is hard on your bare skin and you sense his heat drilling past your veins into the very marrow of your bones. You unconsciously sigh when his fingers slide slightly higher, traveling the length of your spine; his scars catching on every knob of bone. Your exploration stills and your pupils widen. 
His breath is on your neck, nose tilting as his jaw does just above the meat of your shoulder. 
“Why’d you stop?” You stare off into the metal, lashes fluttering when his fingers finally curve at the swell of your neck. Lips drag on your flesh before a deep grumble of affection stems from John’s chest as he kisses your rapid pulse. “Distracted? Hm.” 
“It’s,” you breathe out, scales reflecting light as your lower body shifts on the wood. His opposite hand circles your waist, drawing your back to his chest. Skin burns and thoughts go to liquid as you feel his roving muscle. “It’s g-good. Pretty—” 
Words fail you as his lips continue to slowly travel.
“Could say the same,” John grunts; beard scraping down your flesh. 
Your eyes flutter, head tilting to give more room at the same time you whisper out, violently shivering at the compliment, “John…” 
“What is it?” The grip moves to run over your scales, right where your upper hips would be; the sensation of him caressing you with gentle, deep, rubs of his thumb was all it took for you to give in completely to him. “Go on, Love, speak.” 
You take a breath and feel his heart beating steady along your back—the texture of his tunic. “What…are you doing?” 
John moves your hair and places open-mouthed kisses on the back of your neck. He breathes in your scent and you turn your light head to stare unabashedly at his flushed face. Your tail sways, limp, over the side of the boat. 
Blown pupils hide that sea-storm blue like a lock and key to dangerous thoughts and attraction. 
In answer, his eyes flicker down to your lips hungrily and your gaze widens; a small sound in the base of your throat. 
“You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” He says and you let him lean in closer to your face, eyes threatening to close when you take in the musk of human flesh and sweat. Rope and wood oil. John’s words make you shiver again, hairs standing on end—responding to that deep growl with a roaring in your ears. 
You shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t be enjoying his lips or his tight grip; his…his rough, large, hands that encapsulate your body and drown you. It terrifies you, this heart-stopping magnetism. You can’t get enough of him.
John presses his firm lips to yours, groaning into the connection as you sigh and part your mouth. Fingers shaking, you twist and place your hands on his chest, gasping mutely as his teeth nip into your lower lip and pull back before pushing back forward. Sparks of subdued pain mix with pleasurable agony at the scrape of his beard hair.
 “Every inch of you…” John’s grip captures you closer, hands ensnaring you against his chest like deeply intertwined strands of fabric, squeezing as he licks his upper lip. He catches his breath shallowly. Blue eyes burn through you. “...is fucking perfection.”  
You grab at his necklace and drag him back in, feeling him not waste a single moment to grip the back of your head and keep you trapped to him, tongues slipping out of mouths to tangle together like seaweed. Perhaps it was foolish, but a part of you knew that this Captain, this strange Fisherman—this Johnathan Price—was the only man or being on this planet, land or sea, who could make you feel like you could walk and fly all at once. 
When he lifts you in his arms and drops you in his lap as if your body weighed as much as a pebble, you knew you’d brave the open ocean for this man in an instant. His arm drips with water as it slips under the joint of your tail; where your knees would be if you had them, and you whine into his mouth at the slip of his fingers. 
Intoxicated, drunk off of his scent and his pressure. 
A dangerous mix of two different lives. 
It couldn’t last.
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wolken-himmel · 1 year
Text
In which (Y/n) ends up in the infirmary because a child wandering around campus bit her.
It turns out that the feral boy is Floyd's and her child from the future.
Request by anon.
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"(Y/n), we came as quickly as we could!"
A jolt ran through your body when the door to the infirmary was pushed open with an incredible force. Before you could even begin to recover from the awful noise the hinges produced, you found three figures surrounding your bed.
"What happened to you?" Deuce asked and pointed to your finger in worry. "Someone said you got bitten?"
Ace poked the band-aid that covered the tip of your pointer finger. "Bitten by a feral animal? By Grim?" he asked and began laughing, especially when the cat in question grumbled a few curses of protests.
Much to your amusement, Deuce shot the cat a stern look and wagged his finger in front of his disgruntled eyes. "Grim, what did we tell you?" the blue-haired boy scolded, narrowing his eyes. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you..."
"It wasn't me, I swear!" Grim threw his hands into the air while Ace and you merely laughed your souls out. Your amusement seemed to confuse Deuce, so much that the cat had to explain, "I don't bite people. I have class, you know..."
"Yeah, I was bitten—" you began slowly.
"But you're not bleeding out, are you?" Ace interrupted you and took precautionary step backwards. "And please tell me you didn't get rabies..."
By then, your left eye had begun twitching in frustration — oh, and your ears had begun hurting with all the excessive noise. Before the three could begin arguing amongst each other again, you had already raised your hands to shut them up. "Let me finish my sentences, you idiots!" They quieted down at once, all due to the angry glare you shot them. "No, I got bitten by a child... It was a boy, turquoise blue hair and very very sharp teeth. He couldn't have been older than seven..."
"How... did a child get on campus?" Ace asked with scrunched up eyebrows.
"I don't know..." you grumbled and sank into the soft infirmary bed again — it was much softer than the one back at Ramshackle. After a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and waved the three off. "Just ask Crowley or something."
"And where is the boy now?" Deuce piped up, his eyes flashing with concern. "What if he bites other people? He could seriously hurt someone—"
The red-head rolled his eyes. "It's just a child, you idiot..."
"No, trust me, Ace," you interjected seriously. A series of shivers ran down your back, and something akin to trauma darkened your eyes. "That boy is a menace to society."
"So what do we do now?" Grim asked, panicked.
His blue eyes flashing with utter determination, a bulb seemed to light up above Deuce's head. "We could put up some traps," he suggested while pacing up and down the empty infirmary. "You know, attach some thread to a branch and then prop up a cage. And then use candy as bait."
You clicked your tongue. "That's how you catch a stray cat, not a child..."
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"Ugh, why do our professors always give us so much homework? I barely even have time to fulfil my daily squeeze quota anymore! Jade, my whole life is falling apart! What is the purpose of living if I can't have fun?"
"Oh Floyd... please tell me you're finished with the alchemy assignment for tomorrow."
The twins were walking side by side, traversing another courtyard to get to the Mirror Chamber for their shifts at the lounge. Yet, dread already pooled in the depths of Jade's stomach when he looked upon the moody frown on his brother's face. Floyd's mood swings and work didn't mix well at all — it was like throwing oil and water together.
"Nope," Floyd chimed innocently, "haven't even started yet with that stupid assignment."
"The deadline is tomorrow..." Jade furrowed his eyebrows in worry.
His concerned tone merely drew an annoyed scoff from Floyd's pursed lips. "I wasn't in the mood." A whine escaped his lips when he raised his long arms to stretch lazily. His lips twisted downwards into a pout when he suddenly complained, "I haven't seen (Y/n) all day! My little shrimpy would usually bribe me with hugs and what not to do my homework..."
Jade shook his head in disbelief. "By the Great Seven, Floyd..."
Before he could properly begin scolding his brother, a high-pitched voice reached their ears — someone was calling out to them, and the voice was drawing closer. "Daddy!" they managed to discern once the voice was close enough. And almost simultaneously, a young child threw himself into Floyd's arms while continously muttering 'Daddy' over and over again.
Reluctantly moving his arms around the boy to support him, Floyd furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and a tad bit of annoyance. "Huh? What do you want, little guppy?" The sharpness of his eyes softened up though as soon as he found the child's cheeks covered in dried tears. The boy continued wailing and clinging to the Octavinelle student. "Oh my, why are you crying?"
"I-I hurt Mommy earlier!" the boy confessed guiltily. "I bit her! I didn't mean to... I was just so excited to see her again! And I was so happy that I chomped down a little bit too much... It was meant as a love nibble..."
"And where is your mommy?" Jade asked hesitantly.
The boy's mood seemed to increase once he laid eyes upon the other twin. "Uncle Jade! You're here, too!" he exclaimed with a toothy smile.
Floyd and Jade shot each other surprised looks, astonished by the young boy's ease at telling them apart. Yet, with the way he addressed them, they both began to worry.
"I don't remember having a son, Jade..."
"Neither do I."
Before they could ask the child for answers, three figures came running towards them — two Heartslabyul students and a familiar cat monster. All of them were out of breath when they came to a halt in front of the twins.
"Floyd! Step away from that child at once!" Deuce exclaimed and extended his flat hand warningly. "He's dangerous..."
"This little guppy? No, he ain't dangerous at all." A bout of laughter escaped Floyd's lips when he began tickling the boy affectionately. "What's your name, guppy?" he cooed and cradled him gently.
"Nemo!" the boy chimed.
"See?" Floyd drawled. "So cute."
Grim shook his head hastily. "That boy bit (Y/n)!"
The remark caused Jade to tense at once. His limbs suddenly frozen, he only managed to slowly crane his neck at his brother, who was still busy playing with the mysterious boy. Now, on closer look, Jade managed to see the resemblance between the wild boy and the Ramshackle prefect. His disbelief still didn't lessen, somehow, when he carefully asked, "Wait... so (Y/n) is your mother, Nemo?"
The boy immediately piped up happily when that name reached his ears. "Mommy! Where is she?" His toothy smile showed off his razer-sharp teeth. "Is she alright?"
"Great," Ace grumbled under his breath, "so we bought the cage and candy for nothing..."
The revelation had Floyd perking up in utter delight. His bad mood from earlier had disappeared entirely, based on the way he was grinning widely. "Woah, so Shrimpy and I are gonna have little shrimpies together in the future?" Giggles escaped his lips while he threw the child into the air. "I love it! You're making my day, little guppy~"
"If that's the future, you should work hard for it..." Jade muttered mischievously. "Maybe this is a sign by the Great Seven to work on your assignment for tomorrow."
"Nemo, what do you know of alchemy?" Floyd asked, his laughter mixing with his son's giggles. "I'm sure you'll help your daddy work on his assignment, no?"
The question made Jade's smile waver. "Oh, he's hopeless..."
4K notes · View notes
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Hmmm wat about slayer hcs where the Hashiras react to their S/O saying "I love you" ?
demon slayer hcs // hashiras reacting to you saying “i love you”
ty anon for this rq!
wc: 600>
Tengen
he was probably shocked when u said that
laughs like a buffoon because it was so sudden
then smugly praises himself for being the most perfect man ever
returns his affection to you through small kisses & hugs, holding u close and never letting go
Muichiro
was eating his Sakura mochi when u suddenly blabbered that out
looks at you for a split second then continues eating as if he just forgot whatever you said
he wasn’t used to compliments, let alone being in a relationship with you
he replies with an awkward thanks as he gives you a bite of his food
while you smiled at the tastiness, he smiled back in warmth without you noticing
Shinobu
she was experimenting on antidotes in the room when you just shouted it from the other end
she nearly dropped the glass beaker she was holding as her eyes slightly widened
you were the first person who ever said that besides her family
she was planning to go to you, but you’d already skedaddled to her on your mesh chair
she plants a kiss on your lips, expressing her gratitude for you
she goes on to continue her work, leaving you in a hot mess
Kyojuro
you were admiring him gobbling up his bento that you made for him when you said it
he already had a pleasant expression on his face before, so that made him even happier
he returns the compliment loudly but you quickly covered his mouth as you were scared people heard
“let them acknowledge my fervent affection for you, y/n. my eternal flame.”
those words of his made you blush even more as you buried your face into his neck
he smiled as he ran his fingers through your delicate waves of hair
Giyu
nearly choked on his water, and when i say nearly, i meant he was REALLY flabbergasted by those sudden words
he instantly looked away, though you couldn’t see his face, you could sense a blush sprawling over his features
he was too stunned to speak as he downed his waves of emotions with water
a stuttery “thanks” was all he could say as he forced a smile out of his usual monotone face
“don’t need to take it personal darling,” you smiled as you ruffled your fingers through his hair
that left him even more head over heels for you
Mitsuri
the both of you were admiring cherry blossom trees when you just said it
a squeal instantly came out of her as she quickly hid her blushed cheeks with her hands
you couldn’t help but laugh as you inched closer to her
“i love you ten thousand times more, y/n!” she giggled cheerfully, cupping your pink cheeks
“if i were dared to shout to the world how much i loved you, i would simply whisper it in your ear,” you said, gently removing her hands and pressing your lips on hers
the rest of the morning was history
Sanemi
you guys had just finished your daily training when you said it
he shot you with a confused glance at first; you could tell this took him by surprise
“yeah, no shit you do.” he gave you a sarcastic response, but you could tell that deep down he was touched by your sudden words
he suddenly came closer to you and grazed your nape as you pulled his refined body to yours
“’nemi.. we’re in public-” your breath hitched as he held you by the waist
needless to say, you were ignored
Iguro
the both of you had just taken down a powerful demon when you started sobbing in pride and said it without noticing
his eyes widened ever so slightly; nobody ever told him that. not even his own family
he couldn't even bear to call them 'family' anymore. after the horrendous things they'd done to him
he teared up a little at the thought, but quickly rubbed it away with the hems of his haori as he didn't want you to portray him as someone weak.
unfortunately for him, you had noticed him reminiscing in his own sad thoughts all this while
you wiped away your own tears of joy and headed to him, burying his head in your arms as you comforted him with headpats
"thank you, y/n. i could not have asked for someone better than you."
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taintedbenevolence · 3 months
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This does have fontaine spoilers for the beginning about the water…
.
.
What if darling was running away from yandere of your choice, and the reader was a fontainian, after the whole primordial sea water thing, and used that as a cover up and fakes their death. Only to encounter the yandere years later by accident. You could do whatever you want this with idea, if you want to use it.
I hope this gives you some inspiration :DD
a/n: I love you for this, anon, this concept is actually quite fun to work with. Probably wrote more than I intended to as well. I hope this is to your liking! Sorry for posting this late. Have been a bit busy. Thank you for the inspiration, I hope you enjoy this, and happy holidays to you!! <3 cw: obsessive, possessive, overly-jealous behavior, toxic relationships, stalking, unhealthy/unbalanced power dynamics, kidnapping, mildly suggestive content (?), murder, mentions of suicide, implied death. Major Fontaine Archon Quest Spoilers.
PAIRINGS, individual - NEUVILLETTE, WRIOTHESLEY, DOTTORE, XIAO, DAINSLEIF
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He should've been there for you. Should've saved you. How you ever managed to slip from his grasp, he'll never know.
And now you were dead. Ever since the day the Primordial Seawater flooded Fontaine, the Iudex had a grim expression on his face. He was glad the people of the Hydro Nation had been saved from the impending, imminent catastrophe that had been written into their fates.
Yet he only cared about you. And it was only you who was gone.
Had he been too late? Was that it? No, you'd disappeared before the waters flooded Fontaine, and by then, he'd already passed his verdict on the Final Trial.
So what went wrong?
He wasn't sure what exactly could've caused your disappearance. And for all he knew, the waters had swallowed you whole, eaten you and dissolved you back into the masses.
For weeks, the skies of Fontaine were a murky gray, the children's pleas for the Hydro Dragon to cease crying falling on deaf ears.
He wept, cried, and slept. It was an ongoing cycle. He couldn't bear the pain your death had caused him. He grieved and mourned your passing, his tears not once stopping.
The pass of time became a blur to him, and with every court case, his poised, authoritative, and calm gaze became, if anything, slightly colder each time - something that not many were able to pick up.
But deep in the unbothered gaze of the Iudex lay an unperturbed regret and perpetual pain that seeped into his heart.
Days became weeks, weeks became months, and months slowly turned into years. Seeing a bright, sunny day became a rarity for the people of Fontaine, and even Furina was starting to get concerned.
Yet when she asked the Iudex, he only replied affirmatively. "I'm alright, Lady Furina. You need not worry yourself," he'd lie, but there was nothing else he'd say, for there was nothing more the rest should know.
You knew well why the skies of Fontaine, which were once a rich, vibrant color, now had dulled into a murky gray. But you were happy. You had managed to free yourself from that which the Hydro Dragon Sovereign called love.
That... that wasn't love. It was nothing but pure, unbridled, unrivaled obsession.
For someone with such a gentle disposition and a great position of authority amongst the titles of Justice, you would've never thought deep within the heart of the Iudex would lie therein such madness, a longing and desire reserved only for you.
Slowly but surely, he'd drawn you in and trapped you inside the web of his care, and you'd become none the wiser to the danger he posed to everyone who'd look at you with even a hint of ill intent.
It was only with the pass of time that you came to realize how possessive he was of you. You came to realize why people rarely spoke to you nowadays. The Iudex had set his trap, and you were falling in it.
The moment you caught on to his behavior, he then found it rather futile to keep hiding his intentions, although his calm and cold demeanor still remained.
You tried to reason with him, but he had nothing of it, refusing and restating why it was so important for you to be only his. You thought he was insane, and perhaps he was, but what could you do about it?
The moment you tried to run, that's when everything took a turn for the worse, and you came to see that day a side of Neuvillette that no one had seen. Or at least, no one alive.
All you felt around him was fear after that day. Fear of getting hurt. And so, when he had to cast his judgment in a trial, you took the chance to escape, bringing about remains of Primordial Seawater.
It was the only way to make sure he'd believe your disappearance was true.
And to this present day, it'd worked. It had worked. That was until you made one tiny mistake: going outside.
You had decided to take a walk late at night to soothe your mind. You had some thoughts that worried you and had stressed you as of late, so you took an umbrella and headed out.
It took only a few minutes until you heard thunder strike, and the familiar sensation of a gloved palm squeeze your shoulder gently. Your lips quivered slightly as you turned around, and you soon met the gaze of who else but the Iudex of Fontaine.
His deep, oceanic hues, darkened by their purple color and sharp pupils struck a distinct sensation of dread in you.
"[Name]..." he almost choked out, his deep voice flooding into your ears as his hand reached for your cheek to feel your soft skin. "... You're alive."
You want to run. You want to hide. You want to plead and beg the gods for mercy. But you stay as still as a statue, letting the dragon pull you close to his chest.
He only hums deeply, although it sounds more akin to that of a growl as he passes his hand through your hair, holding your head close to his chest. "You're safe..." he murmurs.
He quietly whispers 'mine' as he continues to hold you, and you only lay there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You'd heard this once in your life, but perhaps you should've listened when you heard it — dragons are very territorial and never share what is theirs; once they claim something, they take it to make it theirs for all eternity.
May the gods in the heavens above have mercy on any who dare lay a finger on you - because he certainly won't.
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Most convicts and members in the prison were aware of the Duke's fondness of you, although far be it to be something His Grace was glad most knew. Nevertheless, he was at the very least content that none had tried to make advances with you once they knew he had his eyes on you.
As for those unfortunate enough to try to hint at even the slightest bit of romantic interest in you ... they were left unheard of. Most believed that it was because their time to leave the prison had come, but... whether it be in the deep sea or the city above, they were never to be seen again.
Wriothesley was convinced that there was no way for you to escape. He often kept an eye on you, occasionally following you when he had the time and wasn't buried in paperwork for the Fortress, and even closed the gate to the overworld at times.
Safe to say, you were locked and trapped inside. Or so, he thought.
One day, you vanished entirely. Gone. He walked around the Fortress as usual, asking if anyone had seen you, assuming that maybe you'd gone for a walk around the fortress. It could be the case, because he did understand that maybe being cooped up in his office all the time could be... exasperating, to put it lightly.
But you hadn't - you had quite literally disappeared, just like a ghost, and much to his displeasure, he didn't have any leads for the case.
Returning to his office, he couldn't even go back to work. He set down the cup of tea he held in his hand on his desk, lest he crush the cup's fragile handle out of anger and concern.
Strutting out of his office a few moments later, he could only feel a wave of fear wash over him as he saw just a few drops of water wetting the floor of the Fortress. And oh no, not regular water, Primordial Seawater.
He can swear to the heavens that not once in his life has he felt his heart drop the way it did now. The traces only led back and around the Fortress, and to nowhere in the end.
You had dissolved.
But in truth, you'd finally run free, seen the sun, something you hadn't been able to see in what felt like years. You had escaped from Wriothesley, and the Fortress of Meropide as a whole. Your plan had finally worked. By some poor miracle, you'd found a way to open the previously closed gates of the Fortress, and now were running free.
Seeing Fontaine on the surface after all this time, this imprisonment, was a blessing. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you dashed, trying to bury the fear and worry of being caught in the back of your head.
Right now, you didn't focus on the fact you could be followed at this moment, but rather, you chose to direct your attention on where to go. You decided it was best to leave Fontaine as a whole, because chances were that you'd be found and dragged back to the murky depths Wriothesley called home.
And archons, he was pissed. He knew people knew that you were preciously dear to him. He'd advised some of the guards to keep an eye on you over caution that "you might escape," because might I add, he framed you with a crime you didn't commit, and he stated that he wanted to ensure you didn't run away.
You were none the wiser that it was his doing, like the rest, but no matter how much you pleaded and begged, everyone refused to believe you. And it was Wriothesley who remained on top, once more having succeeded in his plans.
So for you to slip in between his grasp, and past everyone else's line of sight was infuriating. He put his utmost effort in maintaining a calm composure, but even then, most of the convicts passing by him could feel the seething anger that emanated from him.
Rushing to the overworld immediately, he began his search at the strike of midnight, full moon glistening and shining down on his refined figure, as he prayed to whatever existent, omnipotent entity out there that you were somehow alive. May the gods spare the poor souls who happened to walk by in the dead of night because if looks could kill they'd be dead a thousand times over with an icy glare such as his own, even if they weren't involved at all in abetting your escape.
He's just that mad.
A low growl leaves him as he grits his teeth, a frown etched onto his face whilst the rain slowly begins to pour down on him heavily, soaking him. Yet he doesn't care, pushing through it as he looks for you, not caring how drenched he is in the rain.
He moves quick and searches thoroughly for any trace left, but it seems that this time, you're finally two steps ahead of him, for by the time he's looking through the court of Fontaine, you're already on a boat, sailing towards Sumeru. Perhaps in the Nation of Wisdom would you find refuge and a place to live peacefully.
As you travel across the nation, you ponder if you'll even be accepted. When you reach the nation of Dendro, you find that really there isn't much you can do there. You have no home, no connections, no friends, nothing.
Everything you had is back in Fontaine. But for now, perhaps you can stay for a few years in Sumeru... could you? Fontaine was merely a boat ride away. You could always go back ... right?
Yet deep within you, you knew you couldn't go back. Not now. Not until you knew you were safe to come back. So you found your way to Sumeru City, building your new home there, letting time pass.
And Wriothesley gets desperate. Every waking moment is spent trying to locate you. To find you.
Anything.
Yet he hears, sees, and finds nothing about you. He's not one to lose hope about things such as these, yet, even so, faced with what little evidence he had... you were most likely dead, as far as he was concerned.
But he couldn't be completely sure. Not until three years later.
You had to go back to Fontaine, despite how against it you were. You simply wanted to go back to your homeland - you missed it, and that was fair. You thought that at least you could talk to a friend or two over there and maybe explain your disappearance too.
So, deciding against your better judgment, you paid and took the boat ride back to Fontaine, the Nation of Hydro, your homeland.
Upon arriving once more at the borders of the Nation of Hydro, you left the boat, delighting in the bright sun and scent of your home. You walk around the court of Fontaine, a smile on your face as you see the Melusines passing by, each greeting you with smiles on their faces.
Yet you can't help but feel watched. Only a little. It's probably just a queasy feeling in your stomach because things have changed since you last left. It's normal to feel a little surprised by new changes.
Surely, it's nothing more than just a little paranoia. That's all it could be.
Right?
. . .
"Your Grace."
An officer emerges to the Duke's office with ragged breathing, rushing up the stairs as the raven-haired male slowly shifts his gaze from his paperwork to the personnel that walks up to him.
A stone-cold expression is written on Wriothesley, a look that has been unchanging and everlasting ever since your disappearance. He only slightly raises a brow as he waits for the officer to speak, to which he slightly stammers.
"I-I believe, Y-your Grace..." he begins. "that we have found [Name].." Wriothesley's heart stops, and for a split moment, a new life is seen on the once dulled, blue eyes that hold so much emotion now.
"Where were they last seen?" he inquires sternly, almost too quickly as he bites his tongue lightly. "I-in the court of Fontaine.. r-right outside the Palais Mermonia," the officer responds, startled as the warden walks quickly past him. "You're dismissed," the Duke replies, and without wasting another second, he heads up to the surface, leaving the prison with haste.
He wants to — no — he needs to find you, and now, before you're gone again. He steps into the daylight, eyes darting everywhere. He trudges through the city, hidden amidst the people - which is surprisingly complicated because his presence is a rather commanding and imposing one - until his gaze finally lands on you.
He can already feel his heart pumping, its pulse quickening at the mere sight of you after having lost you for three years. Three interminable years.
Yet he refrains from nearing you. He knows that should he approach you, you'll scurry away, and should he chase, it'd draw unnecessary and unwanted attention. He stares for so long he almost forgets to breathe, keeping an eye on you as you slowly head to your house.
You find a lot of letters, all piled up on a table once you enter, which you can only presume you didn't have any time to read before you'd gone down to the Fortress of Meropide. You open the first one - the one on top of the others, feeling the temperature slowly, but gradually drop as you do so.
You read each letter, only freezing and lightly jumping as you hear the door getting shut close. You turn around to take a look at what's happened, but not fast enough. You feel your head come into contact with something firm and hard, and within seconds, you lose your consciousness, vision blurring, your body falling into another person's hold.
The Duke makes no comment, simply gazing at your unconscious form. His eyes dart over your form, scanning your body as if to see if any mark was left, to which no scratch or cut are on your limp state. He then sighs in what seems to be relief but also distaste — distaste for the methods used to retrieve you.
He took the liberty of walking you back to the prison, carrying your body with ease as your head remained leaning on his shoulder. You'd only feel the occasional brushing of his soft hair against your skin, but then again, even his warmth wouldn't reach you - not in this state.
Wriothesley dutifully brings you back to the murky depths of the Fortress of Meropide, and with haste, he leaves you in his office, letting you wake up as he runs a few errands outside of the large, steely office.
A few hours later, you come to your senses. As you slowly grasp your surroundings, beginning to wake up, you realize something - this place is familiar. You look around. You see Wriothesley's desk, full of papers as it always was, but it now seems slightly in disarray.
Dread fills you as you hear the door of the office start to creak open, heavy steps being the only sound in the large space, excluding your heartbeat, which pulses at a speed you can't register.
You try to move your legs, only to feel them restrained, the slight rattling of chains echoing. You look to your ankles, and much to your dismay, realize that they've been cuffed and chained; fear courses through you.
Oh, you poor, sweet thing - looks like you're going to have to be reminded that rules exist for a reason, and for your own safety no less. But to disobey them will mean an imminent and harsh punishment, regardless of where you've gone.
He'll go through Hell and back just to find you, drag you back, and hold you in his safe, unrelenting grip. Wriothesley vowed to keep you safe no matter the cost, and he will see his promise through until his last, dying breath.
As Wriothesley opens the door to his office, there is little to no noise — it is dead quiet, to the point you can hear your own breath as you shiver. You're sitting down in one of the corners of his administrative office, hugging your knees as you quiver in fear and apprehension.
You can already hear his heavy, slow footsteps as he approaches you, the sound of handcuffs twirling around his fingers already inciting fear in you as the Duke gazes down upon your cowering form with eyes as cold as ice. He tosses his coat aside, adjusting his tie before snapping open the handcuffs.
"I certainly hope someone's ready for their punishment."
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Oh? Well, aren't you such a curious little thing, having run away from him like that.
Dottore, being the man he is, is too meticulous for such a mistake or scenario to have occurred. Rather, he found it amusing when you tried to run successfully ran away. Even you found it awfully suspicious when you'd managed to flee without being caught. Yet you ran anyways, too afraid to return to the cold lab you'd been so used to seeing.
As for the Doctor, he took this as an invitation for another experimentation; a test, by all means.
At first, he waits a couple of days to see if you'll return to him, to which he knows you won't. He's only giving you a momentary satisfaction so that you think that you've succeeded.
Yet after a week or so has passed, a little part of him begins to miss you, or rather, the way you feel. He misses the way you whine when he sinks his teeth into your neck, ignoring your pleads to stop as he traps you inside his laboratory, several of his segments taking time to watch you all day every day, leaving you alone and terrified.
Even his face forms into a tiny pout, before a small smirk finds its way to his lips at the thought of seeing you again. He figures you've stayed back in Fontaine, so, as a well-known and refined diplomat and Harbinger of the Fatui, he decides, why not give you the Nation of Justice a little visit?
So he travels to the Nation of Hydro, remaining in it for about to year to grasp all of its surroundings — shops, restaurants, landmarks - and of course, where you live. He smiles as he gazes at you through the window of your room, and sometimes you can swear that you hear a soft laughter echoing outside your house in the dead of night.
He could have taken less time to accommodate, but, he figured he'd let you have some fun of your own before he made "arrangements" to bring you back to his laboratory.
He's always had a habit of toying with his subjects; this is no different.
Day after day, he wakes up, watching you as you go about your day with a nervous but sweet expression, as if you're relieved that he's not around you anymore, but still somewhat paranoid.
It's so, so cute.
He finds your sleeping positions the best. Relaxed, calm, quiet, and unperturbed. Sometimes, he resists the urge to simply waltz into your house and take you right then and there.
But he insists on waiting.
After what seemed weeks, he decides to buy himself some coffee, and as he enters the establishment nearby his residence to get himself a cup of coffee, he can feel a familiar presence.
You.
You're the one running the shop. Selling products. And as your eyes land on the familiar, dark, ornamented mask, your heart sinks, your hands almost freezing in place. You do your best to remain calm, although your body responds first, breaking out into a cold sweat, your lips pressed nervously into a thin line.
Your smile had faltered slightly as soon as it landed on Dottore's usual smirk. "Ah, well isn't this a wonderful surprise, hm?" the Harbinger muses with a teasing voice.
"O-oh... yes," You stammer, nodding, trying to hide how terribly you want to run for your life at this moment. You're being careful with your words, hoping you're spared of any embarrassment, and for a lack of better words, any horrifying events that might take place right then and there.
You're aware of the man Dottore is; if he so wanted to ruin your life in this moment, he could. There was no telling what he would do, and you didn't want to think of the possibilities.
For now, you wanted to focus on getting through with your day and making some money. That was all you wanted. "W-what would you like?.." You barely manage to utter.
"Have you some coffee, by any chance?" he replies, maintaining the conversation casual. You only nod. "Milk? Sugar?" You continue. He shakes his head. "I'll take my coffee black, thank you," he states, as he leaves.
You take the order, but as you jot down the information on the paper, you feel your fingers trembling, struggling to grip the pen you hold properly. Cursing mentally, you try to shake off the bad feeling you carry.
And as such, the day passes by, and your anxiety and paranoia further grows until you finally return to your home. Changing into more comfortable clothes, you slowly settle into your bed, burying yourself beneath the soft blankets.
And in the midst of this night, your window slowly creaks open, a shadow creeping in and settling beside you quietly.
You slowly open your eyes in confusion as you feel the weight of your bed shift slightly. Before you get to even slightly move away to turn on the lights, you hear a pleased hum as you feel a person snake their arms around your waist, pulling you tightly towards them.
"Mm~ Oh, my love.."
Dottore. You don't need to hear another peep from this man to know it's him. And your heart pounds as you make this realization. With one arm tightly holding you by your waist and another pulling you close to his firm chest, holding your shoulder and laying on your chest, the Harbinger nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, the edges of his mask leaving small cuts on your soft skin.
He only smiles as he sees this, moving his head and licking off the blood that slowly seeps from the cuts, his tongue leaving a cold, wet trace, which only makes you shiver. He chuckles in turn, finding your terrified form undeniably endearing.
"Ah, you're so, so cute," he coos in a sing-song tone into your ear, his chilling, tight grip on you being a stark contrast to his words as his cold breath that lands on your neck causes a chill to run down your spine. "Mm~ I could just eat you right up.."
Your words catch in your throat, another bitter chill running through you as the Harbinger slowly licks and nibbles on your earlobe with purpose, his cold breath causing you to slightly tremble.
You can only feel your heart pound in fear as you feel tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. Chuckling, the Doctor wipes away the tear that forms from your teary eyes as he presses a light kiss on your cheek, his gloved hand teasingly tracing the faint outline of your lips.
"And you'd like that, hm? Isn't that right, my darling dearest?"
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He's going mad. He's losing himself.
Why didn't you call for him? Time and time again he has told you; call for him if you are in danger.
Day and night he has stalked you without reason to sleep or rest. Every waking second of his life is spent on you. You have come to fear those amber eyes since.
His voice, his eyes, his touch, his power. It all scares you. You're terrified of someone whom you initially thought of as your protector, your savior.
Yet you didn't. And the realization hits him. You didn't call for him on purpose.
Following your traces, he realizes that you left for your homeland - Fontaine. He knows already of the disappearance of people by the surging of the Hydro Nation's waters, and he pleads to the gods that you're alive.
Without purpose other than to protect you, he'd lose himself and succumb to imminent darkness, should he find no trace of your body alive and well.
He quickly finds his way through the vast seas of Fontaine, walking through the court, outside the Palais Mermonia in the dead of night.
Even in an unfamiliar nation, he does his utmost to find you, yet he finds nothing. He hears nothing. Sees nothing. Feels nothing. Nothing of you.
He fears you are dead.
And dead you are not.
His blood runs cold at the possibility and thought, and he doesn't want to believe it. Dead? No. Not on his watch. Never. He swore to himself he'd keep you alive, he won't ever break that vow, and especially not now.
For the yaksha, this is a hunt. A race against the clock.
Not only for him, but for you. You know it's only a matter of time until he finds you; the clock's ticking, time's running out, and your legs will soon give up, given how much you've run in order to stage your death.
After all, trying to fake your own death isn't something easy, and you know well Xiao is not stupid; he wouldn't fall for something simple. This had to be elaborate and complex, but without taking too much time.
Which is why, of course, you figured it'd be best if you used Primordial Sea Water for this "trick."
You had little to no time, and eventually, you just settled on taking a dive for the water.
You made a break for it, running for the nearest shoreline, and unluckily enough for you, your footsteps, though quiet, alerted the yaksha who was in pursuit.
He moved quickly, searching in the direction of your footsteps, and he found you, right when you were about to take your jump. He could feel his heart drop at the sight, and he immediately lunged towards you, grabbing you by your collar as he glared at you.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" he growls, and you feel yourself quiver. "You could have died!" he reprimands in a stern voice. Though his voice is laced with disappointment and anger, you can tell he's more than heartbroken.
He's devastated by what you tried to do. You can almost see his eyes water. And while you aren't exactly proud of yourself, you certainly don't want to be around him either.
The amount of people he's killed, the freedoms he's stripped you of because he "loves" you has terrified you and in a constant state of paranoia; in your eyes, death would be rather merciful in comparison. The moment you try to pull away, his grip only increases, to the point it's painful.
"No no no, I can't, I won't let you go again; never again," he says, teeth gritted, although you're not sure if any longer does he speak to you, or does he speak to himself to soothe his own unhinged obsession.
"My eyes will always be on you."
It matters not where you run, he'll always find you; his love for you is undying and eternal, much like the boundless karma that awaits, lying in wait for him in madness.
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He was disappointed.
He believed you knew better than to run away from him. Seems you proved him otherwise.
He found his way to your birthland, Fontaine, and in sufficient days, he figured that you'd tried to use the Primordial Sea Water to fake your death.
He wasn't fazed, really. He found your actions rather predictable, and he already knew you'd try this at some point. He had anticipated this, and was prepared, yet when it happened, he couldn't help but feel disappointed that you really tried to do this, and perhaps a tinge of hurt.
He also felt a bit of worry. He knew you'd never kill yourself, but, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if you actually had recklessly gone and done the deed, falling to the dead.
Could you have hated him that much?
Reluctantly, he pushed those thoughts away as he traversed through the vastness of Fontaine, keeping himself out of others' line of sight. The sun slowly cast itself into darkness, letting the moon shine once more as shadows seeped into the quiet court of Fontaine.
He could hear footsteps apart from his own, and they were different than that of a Gardemek's. With time, he'd come to learn the sound of your footsteps, and they were all too familiar to him. He turned, and managed to catch a glimpse of you, and small trails of strange water being left behind.
Primordial Seawater, he figured. With a sigh of disdain, he took off after the trail, sooner than not, finding you running nervously about towards the shoreline. With ease, he manifested his own energy, able to cut your air circulation from afar.
With speed, he then rushed to you, knocking you unconscious and rendering you powerless as he picked up your limp body. His expression didn't change, only being one of disappointment and mild irritation.
In time, he brought you to a small dining place, to which he cared not to read the name of. Entering the small establishment, he went upstairs, carrying your body in a way that would not bring upon much question. Placing you down on one of the seats in front of the table, he heads to the other seat, in front of yours, divided by the space the table provides.
He sat comfortably on the seat in front of yours, and what seems to be a few hours later, you slowly regain consciousness. All you see is the tall blonde as he readies a glass of wine for you, your mind slowly catching up to the situation at hand.
Your expression slowly changes to one of horror and surprise as you hear his smooth voice, accompanied by a soft chuckle that reverberates, rumbling through his chest.
"You're waking up."
You say nothing, as you observe the man in front of you. Dainsleif places the glass of wine in front of you, keeping one for himself as well. Your mind is slow to analyze everything, and while your senses are still adjusting, you can at least realize what's going on. The way his serious gaze hides a playful flicker lets you know already one thing.
Your plan failed.
He only smiles teasingly as he gazes at you with a hint of longing, lips pressed into a faint, but satisfied smirk. "We know that trick of yours won't work, sweetheart. Let's not try that again, shall we?"
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minarinnn · 4 months
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girl dinner anon here please can I have more crumbs of Kunigami and Barou your writing for them was so good and I haven’t seen anything new for them in a while 😭🙏
I dunno if I want anything specific- maybe like breeding or something but you can do whatever your heart desires desires 🙏🙏🙏🙏
OMG I ENJOYED WRITING THAT SM NGL, this took longer than expected but honestly it’s bc i kinda forgot to post it so yh sorry for the delay lmao
content/trigger warnings: afab! reader, characters are aged up, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, degrading, praising, groping, rough sex, implied size kink
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BAROU
barou always pulled out. he didn’t mind it. there was never any real desire to get you pregnant. that was until he saw you with his baby nephew at a family event. the kid was around 2 years old and you spent almost the whole night fussing over him
you played, fed, and even cuddled with him. he saw his nephews sleeping figure in your arms as your soft hands caressed his back. he doesn’t know why but barou felt all tingly inside. he never had the urge to do it but the thought of you carrying a kid that looks exactly like him turned him on immensely
so when you get to your shared apartment and barou pounces on you, you think nothing of it. you’re like putty in his big, rough hands. you really couldn’t get enough of him
the way his dick stretched you out perfectly, bruising your cervix as you moaned out his name. your pretty nails scratching and leaving marks along his back while his heavy balls smacked against your ass
your eyes rolling back over his rough pacing that immediately makes you go dumb on his fat cock. his hands groping all over your body as he growls lewd things in your ears that make you clench impossibly harder on his dick
“it hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already dumb on my cock, huh? you pretty little slut” the words making you whine and your eyes water. “i’m gonna fuck my baby into you” he grunted, reaching deeper into your soaking cunt “you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty?”
you nod, babbling incoherent words as your second orgasm washed over you, making you buck your hips towards him. “i’m’a make you a fuckin’ mommy” is the last thing he said before dumping his seed into your cunt, thrusting it deep into you, making you take every single drop
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KUNIGAMI
kunigami has always been a big family guy so the though of having a family of his own always excited him. but when you said you didn’t wanna have kids yet, he respected it. though he did have the habit of asking questions like ‘when do you think you’ll be ‘ready?’ ‘how many do you wanna have?’ ‘do you want any at all?’
so when you told him you were getting off the pill, not because you wanted children, but because of the side effects that came with it, he was oddly weird about it. maybe it was because he enjoyed cumming inside of you and now he had to pull out
the next few times go by with him pulling out, he didn’t like doing it, but he respected you and your wishes. as much as he’d like to dump his cum into you like he used to, he knew he had to restrain himself
but when the words “im ready” and “please cum inside” slip out of your mouth while he’s pounding his dick into you, he goes feral. his pace immediately picks up, making you moan in pleasure as his thrust went from gentle and loving to rough and quick
kunigami’s mind was filled with images of your belly growing and your boobs heavy and sore. the thought of you carrying his baby just fueled him to the max
you could feel his dick twitching within your gummy walls as his lips feverishly kissed along your entire body, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. “you’re gonna be such a good mommy” his sweet words contrasted his rough pace. you could feel his big cock pushing past your cervix and his breeder balls smacking against your plush ass
with a few more thrust and a few whines, he painted your walls white. resting his sweaty body on top of yours while he kissed your shoulder. both your chest’s heaving up and down while your hand roamed his fluffy orange hair
“i hope we have twins”
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© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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darthannie · 6 months
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An idea for a drabble or something: Tommy Shelby with an innocent reader who squirts for the first time and doesn’t know how to react.
a/n: Oh I love this. Here's a lil drabble for ya. Hope you enjoy, Anon!
water works
Thomas Shelby x f!reader
Warnings: smut, squirting
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You can’t remember the first time you met Tommy. All that mattered was the fact that you were directly under him with his fingers deep inside your cunt. 
He had been a gentleman, but if he was anything he was direct. You ended up back at your house and he asked you if you wanted to fuck him. You took a moment to answer. You’d kissed a few men before, but a man had never touched beyond a bit of heavy petting. 
“I haven’t- I’ve never been with a man,” you said apprehensively. You were unsure if this would be a deterrent. 
He raised his glass of whiskey as if to give a toast. “Well, here’s to firsts.” 
He threw back the remnants of his glass and grabbed your face to pull you in for a very messy and passionate kiss. 
He pulled back and you led him to your bedroom. This was the first and only time you led anything with him. He took complete control. There was not a single move you made that didn’t seem prompted by him in some way. He held your wrists over your head as he kissed you, pressing you down into the bed. He didn’t even bother undressing you fully; he opted to pull up your dress and pull down your undergarments. 
He bent down to lick your pussy, tasting how wet you had gotten. He inserted two fingers and you moaned so loud you were sure the maids in the other wing would hear. 
He set a relentless pace. If his plan was to wear you out, it was working. You felt something building up inside you rather quickly. 
“Tommy. I don’t know how much I can last. “
“Hold it,” he repeated, “hold it.”
It was so demanding you couldn’t help but hold whatever it was from coming out. But then, it did. It came in waves. Tommy’s shirt was completely soaked. You had no idea your body could do that. Your jaw fell and you pulled away from him once the shock started to set in.
Tommy was having none of it. “No, no come back here. You’re going to do that again.”
“I don’t think I can,” you countered
“You can. You’ve got one more in you.” He caressed your leg to coax you back to him. You gave in easily. Not many men had as much charm as Thomas Shelby.
His tongue ran a stripe against your clit and you shivered. Tommy licked and sucked before inserting the same two fingers he had before. It only took a minute before your legs were shaking and you were once again wetting his shirt and making the sheets damp. He ran his hand up and down your leg as you came for him.
He moaned and said, “There’s a good girl. Now it’s time to see if you can do that on my cock.”
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