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simonrillleyyysss · 5 months

Note

simon with an s/o who is super duper smart!! like she studied astrophysics or SUMN and she’s like a researcher and she reads classic philosophy and is subscribed to a bunch of newsletters for different topics and she’s just,, so smart!! but not like street smart. she’s a clutz and she’s clueless and a bit dumb when it comes to the the day to day stuff and it’s so silly cause like. how. r u in such a prestigious field and you speak so eloquently yet also so silly stupid dumb?? it’s so cute

and his favourite thing is getting his smartypants nerdy little girlfriend into a babbling gushing mess under him, barely able to form coherent sentences as he bullies her soaked cunny :(( miss big shot researcher all fucked out and giggling, drooling and brainless AGHHRRN the brainrot is real

i love this!! socially unaware reader who’s a genius?? yes!!!

Simon knows you’re intelligent, everyone does! You’re always spewing facts to him throughout the day, and he thrives for it! A new update about some snazzy topic, which he, does not entirely understand? Hell yeah! You’re happy and content, walking down the street with your hands linked, freehand scrolling through your phone.

“Oh!”

“Hm?”

“There’s a new—“

He’s so happy that you’re happy, doesn’t care if anyone else thinks you’re a snob, you’re not. You’re his smart cookie. His soft, silly smart cookie. He adores flexing it, too!

Sat on the sofa on a rainy day? He isn’t surprised when you’re nose is stuck in some big book about philosophical ideals and whatnot, peeks over your shoulder as his fingers tangle through your hair, kissing the back of your head.

“Seems snazzy.”

He mumbled lowly, hands squishing your cheeks from behind, watching you purse ur lips out.

“It is! It’s really interesting, would you like to read it after?”

“..I’ll pass, y’ can tell me about it, though. That’s better, innit?”

Watches you work from home, constantly. Finds it so interesting when you sit at your laptop, tapping at the keys so quickly while looking down at your big book of new information , all of which you’d written down recently, just sits at the corner of the bed and stares at you in awe.

Never trusts you to go out by yourself, always has you message him every once in a while when you’re out with your friends at dinner or anything—He’s not controlling, you can go out; but he just knows you’re not high in the social field of things, monkey say monkey do!

Smart? Yes, streetsmart? No.

So when you and him had went out shopping together, and some guy tried to hit on blissfully, happily unaware you? He was enraged, he knows you didn’t do anything, he knows it was all him, but he can’t help how angry it makes him.

Can’t help how he holds you down on the bed by your hips, thrusting his thick cock into your tight cunt, sniffling and whining in soft confusion, you didn’t do anything! So why was he ramming into your sensitive little pussy? Why was he abusing you softly and kissing your breasts if you didn’t do anything wrong?

“So-Mgmmng..Si—m’sorry!”

“Shhhh, Yr’ fine, sugar…I know y’didnt, jus’ stay quiet f’me, yeah?”

“A-mngh..Ohh, gosh! Are you mad at me?”

You gasped out, looking up at the blonde-haired man, who was softly peppering pecks along your perky nipples, cock slamming into you repeatedly, watching your eyes roll back and lips part.

“Course not, mad at him—Yeah? Thinkin’ he has a chance with my girl.. Thinkin’ he can fuck your pretty lil’ pussy as well as I do.”

“Mmnngghh.Can’t..NoooooOOT him!-“

He chuckled, jutting his cock further in you a few times to emphasise his point, watching you squeal in pleasure, back arching; His thumb coming to brush right circles against your aching clit, feeling you tighten and spasm around him as your orgasm washed over you!

Or,

When you’re sitting atop his lap, riding him lazily as he reads your latest draft, brows furrowed as his arm slung around your hip protectively, listening to your little moans and u intelligible babbles, slouching over slightly—feeling his hand squish your hip and seeing you instantly readjust your frame, practically drooling down your chin.

Smart literally, Dumb socially.

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lyvndr · 10 months

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Thinking about modern Wanderer, who's your secretly needy roommate, who always thinks about you during late nights where his sex drive is at an all-time high.

Thinking about modern Wanderer who, in the depths of night, crawls out of the bedsheets just to pull up images of you on his phone, sliding his boxers down his legs to reveal his half-hard cock.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who lets out the softest moans through bit lips as he stares at images of you, each photo zoomed into your legs as he thought more and more about how lewd you would make him look.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who cums so quickly at the thought of you on top of him, smiling sadistically while he squirms around, imagining you lowering yourself onto his dick.

Thinking about modern Wanderer, who starts to hump at his pillows while staring at your photos, your innocent, unknowing smiles in each and every photo pushing him closer and closer to the edge—

until you walk in.

“Oh—! O- Oka— ohohohohokay—!!”

Sinful squelches from the vigorous amount of lube on your roommates dick corrupted the room's previously quiet and peaceful atmosphere, and Wanderer's high-pitched moans added to the sheer sin of the room.

How he had managed to get here with you straddling him and ruthlessly jerking him off was something he couldn't even try to think about. In fact, the boy's too dumbified and fucked up to even have a functioning train of thought that isn't about how hard your hand is squeezing his dick, or how merciless you were for jerking him at such a quick pace.

You're trapped between Wanderer's legs as one wraps around your torso, constantly kicking at the air when he gets closer and closer to the edge. His other leg is laid on the bed, still around your sitting figure, but remains resting on the bed— unless he's also kicking the sheets with his heel, having completely given up on keeping his composure.

Both of your hands twisted on his dick while they were practically riding it. The wetness from Wanderer's pre-cum mixed in with the lube was beginning to kill him; his eyes rolled back on numerous occasions, widening, squinting, or sometimes he'd close them for a little bit until you focus your hands on a veiny area, to which he goes crazy and squeals, squirms, and eventually loses all sense of self control.

“Ghh— Go‐ d— pleease I jus— just—! Oh–!”

Wanderer began to heave air from every corner and crevice of his lungs until they were too close to empty. He'd inhale sharply and breathe most of the air out as a signal that he's close. Wanderer was at a loss for coherent words, so to make up for it, he babbled, moaned, cried, gripped his bedsheets so hard that they began to tear, feeling that small string holding him together being shredded apart little by little, oh-so lustfully close that the string was about to—

snap.

“ffff— fuckfuckfuckff– FUCK—!!”

Wanderer screamed, and between your hands and from his dick spurt heavy amounts of your roommates cum, the liquid spattering all over your hands, face, T-shirt, and bare legs.

You've yet to say a word to Wanderer ever since you caught him masturbating to photos of your earlier, curious to see if he'd be affected by your sheer, deafening silence through his loud moans and cries. However, to your dissatisfaction, he didn't react at all to it— he didn't seem bothered by your utter silence.

It seems he didn't get much of a punishment yet for not telling you about his rut sooner...

“H... Hey,” Wanderer mutters through several pants, “wh— what are you... Ghh—!!”

You, without warning, lowered yourself onto his sensitive and overstimulated dick, taking in the stretching feeling, as well as his desperate cries for you to not continue.

A smile grows on your face.

Now you're definitely sure he'll react to this.

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strangersmunsons · 7 months

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you're not feeling your best. Eddie gives you some much needed comfort. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~800 words

“Hey, Eddie?”

Your soft voice breaks the comfortable silence hanging over the bedroom, where you and Eddie have been curled up in each other’s arms since you finished making love some time ago.

“What’s up, baby?” He strokes a calloused hand up and down your back, tracing gentle patterns into the skin with his fingers in a way that makes you shiver. You press your body even closer to his.

He smells musky with sweat and drugstore cologne, and the faint whiff of tobacco that lingers from his post-sex cigarette. He tilts his head down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder, and then another, and then another.

You hesitate, unsure if you want to break this spell of gentleness by voicing your insecurities. But then Eddie traces the furrow between your brows with a delicate finger, smoothing out the small crinkle. His face is expectant. Waiting.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He gives you a dopey half-smile, the really sleepy one that you love the most. “You just did, didn’t you?”

You try to grin back, but it comes out more like a grimace.

His smile fades, face lining with concern as he takes in your expression. You've apparently hidden your unease from him well tonight; he doesn't like it. He brings a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Of course you can,” he says soothingly, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

You sigh at his touch. “Don’t laugh,” you whisper, throat tightening.

“I would never, sweetheart,” he whispers back.

You stare up at him, eyes welling with tears. You shift uncomfortably in his arms, overwhelmed by the urge to suddenly run from the room.

“Hey.” Eddie gently pats your cheek, growing alarmed at how upset you look, but nonetheless staying calm for your sake. “Talk to me, angel.” He sits upright in bed, pulling you with him, so your tangled limbs are all gathered into his lap. He rocks you ever so slightly side to side, and curls one hand around the back of your neck so he can bring your forehead to his. “What’s got you all worked up?”

You don't want to tell him anymore, but you’re unable to hide from him like this. Your lip quivers uncontrollably. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty?” The words are wispy, barely there.

You might as well have taken a knife to Eddie’s heart. Shock flickers across his face before sinking into unbelievable sadness. He crushes you to him. “Of course I do. I think you’re so pretty, baby. I think you’re beautiful.” The words become muffled as he buries his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Most beautiful girl in the world.”

That does it.

Fat tears spill over your bottom lashes, and you hug him back as hard as you can.

Eddie caresses and kisses every part of you he can reach. “Why’d you ask me that, huh? Did I do something to make you feel like you aren’t?” Every part of him aches at the thought of making you feel undesirable, accident or not.

You can only snuffle in reply at this point, too caught up in your tears to answer him coherently.

“Shhh,” he hushes you gently, rubbing your back. “Take a deep breath, baby. Try and relax for me, okay?”

He continues to coo sweet nothings in your ear while you let it all out, until you eventually come down from the crying jag. You slump against him, exhausted, waiting for the last few rogue sobs to finish wracking your body.

Eddie holds you all the while, and then tucks you away under his chin.

His voice is soft like velvet. “What happened to my girl today?” He resumes the gentle swaying from before, hoping the motion will soothe you. “What’s making you feel like this?”

“O-overheard…s-some people t-today…” you manage to stutter out.

Eddie’s jaw sets. Would you and he never escape the cruel judgment of others?

“They’re wrong,” he says firmly. “Don’t listen to them. Just listen to me, yeah?”

He jostles you lightly in his lap when you don’t answer. “I said, yeah?”

“Y-yes, Eddie.”

He softens again. “Good girl.” He dots a few more kisses onto your head. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. I thought you were the second I saw you. And then you turned out to be beautiful on the inside, too. Lucky me, huh?” Another kiss. “My beautiful girl. You’re my angel.”

Your voice is still watery, almost inaudible. “Thank you.”

He gives you a tight squeeze, still speaking in dulcet tones. “I’m happy to tell you that, because it’s true. I’ll tell you all the time now.” Kiss. “I think you need some sleep, sweetheart. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”

He doesn’t let go of you for the entire night.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #sorry this is so sappy & gross i'm just in a mood ig #also sorry for using the term 'making love.' it was the only one that felt right #just really craving some soft sweet eddie rn 🥺

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ode2rin · 1 year

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it's all me, just don't go

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. post-argument, hurt/comfort this time (^o^) | fluff too actually (?)

warnings. swearing, and probably a lil ooc rin .. well he's a bit of a loser here (i like loser men) this is also not proofread basically wrote it on a whim T_T i also listened to "afterglow" by taylor swift while writing hehe so it's a bit inspired to that

note. it's the part 2 of this | i'm supposed to be figuring this whole platform out but instead made a part 2 of the rin fic bec he got me in chokehold istg

before you could make up your mind, you felt the door knob twisting, startling you. you froze, heart pounding against your chest. as the door swung open, it revealed a distraught rin hastily trying to wear his coat.

your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time.

itoshi rin was not known for being a man of many words, but for you, he rehearsed every possible apology he could think of as he’ll search for you in every street around. he would’ve apologized a hundred times over if it meant you would return home to him. if you’re not ready to come home with him, he’ll leave you alone. he’ll leave the apartment, if it means you’ll stay where he knows you’re safe. he’ll tell you he’ll be good for you. fuck, he’ll be the best for you. he would have changed his ways, toned down his ego, anything to prove his love to you. he’ll tell you anything, just please, for the love of whatever divine forces watching over him, please come home.

he prepared a lot to say, a lot to make up for. he never prepared for a staring contest with you right now. rin’s hands ached to hold you. he wants – needs to fucking hold you so close, feel your warmth and know that you were still his. but every thought and intention he had practiced vanished in the face of your presence, leaving him at a loss for words.

rin saw the hurt in your eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in his chest. he had hurt you, and seeing the pain written so plainly on your face made him ache inside.

but the hurt in you was no longer remnants of the argument you had, it was because of your lover standing in front of you right now.

as rin’s eyes met yours, you noticed that his eyes were slightly red-rimmed and there was a streak of dried tears in his cheeks. at the realization that rin had been crying, you felt your heart lay down in pieces. you knew how rin’s mind tends to jump into the brinks of overthinking. he must’ve thought you’re never coming back, hence him leaving the apartment and going after you.

the sight of him was far from what the world thought about itoshi rin. this was no egoist.

no, this was a man, vulnerable and afraid, his heart laid bare for you to see.

and in that moment, you knew, no longer a shred of doubt clouding your mind, that you definitely seen past beyond his walls.

you wasted no time breaking the suffocating silence that enveloped you both, your voice low and small as you uttered a timid “hi.” you couldn't bear to look into rin's eyes, instead opting to cast your gaze downward as you tried to form coherent sentences. “i'm sorry for leaving,” you managed to say, your words strained with regret. “i just needed some fresh air, and i thought maybe you wanted some time alone. i'm sorry–”

before you could continue, rin's towering frame engulfed you in a tight embrace. you felt his arms wrap around you protectively, and you couldn't help but lean into him. "you have nothing to apologize for, it was on me," rin murmured, his voice soft and laced with guilt. he wondered why the hell were you even apologizing when you had done nothing wrong but love him, despite being a huge asshole.

you were about to reply, but rin beat you to it, his words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i didn't mean any of the shit i told you. i'm sorry i hurt you. i lashed out at you for things you never did, and i took it out on you because i was scared over something so fucking lukewarm." you could hear the sniffling between his words, but you didn't mention it, instead burying your face further into his chest as he held you tighter.

rin's grip on you intensified, as if he was afraid he'd lose you if he let go. he took your silence as a cue to cradle your face in his palms and press your foreheads together, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“i’m sorry. i’ll be good to you, y/n. just please, don’t leave..” me. rin couldn't bring himself to say it, the mere thought of losing you driving him to the brink of madness.

he closed his eyes, unwilling to see your face and see a trace of rejection or any thought of you leaving him. for a moment, it felt like rin couldn't even breathe. the silence between you was again suffocating, and he knew he needed to hear something, anything. "please, y/n. say something," he implored, desperation evident in his tone.

“open your eyes, rinnie” at the sound of his nickname rolling off your lips, he hesitantly opened his eyes to look at you.

glad he did, because you’re smiling.

it took one smile. one fucking smile from you, and itoshi rin felt he can breathe again.

“will you let me let you go?”

“fuck no.”

you let out a small chuckle at the speed of his answer, all with his familiar snarky voice. you placed your hands in his cheeks and you can see the relief wash over rin's face at the gesture.

he looks at you as if you're his lifeline, and in this moment, you are.

“you better not. because i’m not going anywhere, rin.” you say, your voice filled with conviction.

“i'm never letting you go,” he whispers, his eyes still locked onto yours.

you both stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your embrace. for the first time in a while, everything feels right.

tomorrow, you know there will be more apologies and a lot of talking. tomorrow, both of you will try harder to be better for each other. and tomorrow, hand in hand, you and rin will face whatever lies ahead.

but tonight, both of you will let your fragile hearts hold on to each other and your frantic minds to be at peace in each other’s arms. tonight, itoshi rin will spend every second convincing himself that you’re his to love and here to stay. tonight, he will love you better.

#☁️ my ode to you #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock x reader fluff #itoshi rin x reader fluff #pls take it easy on me i'm new here and i don't know shit #i'll cry

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h-hollieskz · 20 days

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ALMOST THERE

introduction | masterlist

->pairing : sub lee know x dom gn reader

->word count : 700+

->synopsis : lee know

->tw : idrk with this one, edging?, use of kitten once (I couldn’t resist sorry)

->authors note : was considering putting this in the tw, but this whole thing is incredibly sloppy and low key shit, but I’m just trying to get back into the habit of posting so bear with me

What you could only describe as the cry of an angel escaped your boyfriend’s plush lips as your fingers curled up onto his spot, his half-lidded eyes the epitome of a man far too gone to form a coherent sentence. Leaking on his stomach was his achingly hard cock, neglected through your teasing and cruel ministrations and you didn’t have any intention of getting him off any time soon.

Every time his body began to convulse, heart rate rising just a little too high, you’d pull away, leaving him to chase his orgasm desperately, tugging on the binds that held his wrists. He’d never pictured himself in this position and had you asked him a few months ago if he’d consider it he’d have scoffed in your face.

You see, your usually so proudly dominant boyfriend had agreed to a bet, allowing you to take control for one night, granted that you beat him at bowling (his pride certainly had gotten ahead of him considering his shaky skills at the sport). Despite not exactly being so great at it yourself, you still managed to beat him with quite some points between you both. The look on his face had been priceless.

Let’s just say that well, that night Minho learned some things about himself.

He’d already been denied twice at this point, and this is where previously you had given in. You reckoned he could take more though.

Lube squelched as you drove two fingers into his loose hole, aiming directly for his prostate each time and basking in the small yelps he let out, similar to the mew of a cat. His small hands were clasped together, knuckles turning white, in the soft fabric that tethered them together and his legs squirmed helplessly beneath your weight. Your hand danced around his crotch, caressing his thighs which you admired so greatly.

His pink lips were open in a small, delicate ‘o’ as he could feel himself approaching his release again, believing for a second that you were going to let him and whining as your touch departed again.

“Pl-please. I haven’t done anything wrong.” He gasped lightly. It was almost phrased as a question, begging you to tell him what he’s done. His usual grouchy tone returning slightly as he remarked, “just let me cum already.”

It was cute you decided. He believed that it would work. What he didn’t realise is how much harder he was making it on himself as you gripped his jaw like a vice, staring him cold in the eyes.

“Good kittens don’t make demands, they take what they are given.” You said through gritted teeth before continuing “If you don’t want it, you know your safeword.”

His glare began to soften as he gulped, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand found his cock, gliding it up and down his length agonisingly slowly. In a second you’d give him what he wanted, judging that he was right, he had done as you’d asked that evening, and you already pushed him so far. He deserved a treat. You just had to make him suffer a tad bit more first.

“You look so beautiful like this, you know that right.” His scrunched up face barely reacted to your words, but he let out another small whimper. You reinserted your fingers into his wet heat, Minho’s face relaxing slightly as he lost himself again.

It wasn’t long until he was at the edge again, a few beads of sweat noticeable in his hairline. He had gotten considerably noisier, the closer he got, eyes refusing to open right until he tipped over, body convulsing in pleasure as his orgasm rocked through him. It was more intense than any other he had experienced, and you made sure to kiss and ease him through it until the aftershocks were over. A sheen of sweat covered him as he flopped back, and you quickly undid his wrists.

“You handled that so well, baby.” You mumbled into his ear, peppering him with kisses, “did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” You faintly heard him say, and you didn’t press for more information.

“Do you want a bath?” You asked, ready to jump up and go run it for him.

“In a few minutes, jus want to lie here with you for a bit.” He whispered into your neck where you held him.

honestly gonna cry

#skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #sub skz #stray kids x reader #sub stray kids #dom reader #skz sub #skz lee know #lee know smut #sub lee know

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kisakis-boyfriend · 21 days

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Untitled

Pairings: Takemichi x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Takemichi, rough sex, dacryphilia, pillow princess Michi, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Tagging: @wazabii @hxpel3s5-slxxt (if you'd like your tag removed please lmk!)

Author's Note: Not requested of me specifically, but I did promise to write a lil something something featuring Michi and rougher sex. So, here it is!

“Aah-!” Another shrill scream bounces off the walls of his bedroom, proceeded by a sharp slap.

Your ragged panting is barely audible over the sound of your hips beating Takemichi's ass — his skin turning an even deeper shade of pinkish red with every collision.

“Fuck, haha... look at you, baby,” you rasped, “look at you taking me nice 'n deep like that. I told ya you'd be able to handle this dick.”

The words didn't quite make it past his lips, instead turning into a whimper that tumbled out when Takemichi tried to protest. He's always so coy — "nooo it won't fit! You're way too big!" he'd say, despite the fact that you regularly wreck his holes. I mean, yeah, you were pretty thick down there, but your partner has proven time and time again that that's not much of a problem.

Even now, as his nails dig into his sheets and tears stain them, Takemichi's walls grip you like a vice; pulling your cock further inside with every motion. And the way his once coherent speech turns into babbles, all because you're rearranging his insides? Priceless.

“Ah fuck-! Mm yeah, take it, baby. Take daddy's cock-” It's all the little slut can do to keep his hips up in the air; his legs may as well have become jelly at this point with the way his thighs shake when you pull back — nearly pulling out — then snap back as if there's some magnetic pull between you two.

Your little pillow princess is full-on sobbing as his teeth grind against the fabric of his sheets. Yet another slap to his ass and Takemichi somehow cries harder, getting choked on his own spit.

Meanwhile, you have been holding back, desperate not to cum just yet so that you can stay inside your lil princess for a while longer. But that ache deep inside of you has only built up, exacerbated by Takemichi's tight hole wrapped around your dick. If only he didn't feel so fucking good, then maybe tonight could last a little longer...

“Gonna fuckin' cum... Hah... Where does my little whore want it, huh?”

No response. Only a drawn out whine where Takemichi's face is buried in the mattress.

You can't stifle the laugh that comes out of your mouth. “Inside it is, then. Ngh-!”

With a few more deep thrusts, you finally explode inside your partner — gushing white, hot ropes that fill him up as you grab a handful of his hair and push his head down further, cutting off the pathetic thing's oxygen for a moment.

“O-ooh shit... haha... damn, baby, you took everything I had, didn't ya?” You tease, exhaling the breath you'd held in during your climax.

Your hands slid down your darling's back, moving towards his hips to rub soothing circles on the skin, then roaming over more of his smaller body — Takemichi's breathing steadies as you do this, gradually calming down until his muscles release their held tension. After a moment, you pull out, leaving your partner's hole gaping, as you usually do, and leaking a fat glob of your cum.

Rolling over onto his side, Takemichi searches for your hand; which you happily oblige him, and meet his touch. Your thumb brushes over his knuckles and you lean down to kiss them before laying down next to him.

“You ok?”

He nods. “Mhm... felt really nice...”

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him blink lazily; best to help him over to the bathroom before he falls asleep, or before you fall asleep, for that matter. And after you're both cleaned up and relaxed, you'll have a little rest together.

Before you roll over and out of his bed, you place a tender kiss on Takemichi's forehead, giggling along with him.

#my writing #requested #hanagaki takemichi #takemichi smut #takemichi x reader #takemichi x male reader #sub takemichi #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #sub male character #oneshot

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miclipse · 4 months

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ worth the wait.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

sypnosis: rafayel hates waiting. but maybe, just maybe, some things are worth waiting for. even if it takes 800 years.

word count: 0.7k

cw: afab! reader, minor spoilers for rafayel's backstory, implications of abysswalker! rafayel, nicknames used (princess, silly girl, your highness), fluff

note: wrote this at 2am last night, might be a bit bad >< comments appreciated !!

all you felt right now was the cooling sensation of rafayel's hand pressed against your warm forehead.

a click of the tongue could be heard, the merman's normally relaxed expression now scrunched up in frustration.

oh, don't get him wrong. he wasn't mad at you; he never will be. he was mad at himself. how foolish he was to let you wait for him at your balcony for hours, even as the sun went to sleep and the moon rose up into the cloudy abyss.

it was never his intention to be late— rafayel always hated when others were late. however, this time was a little different. he had spent long hours in the sea, looking for the prettiest seashell or gemstone he wanted to gift to you.

afterall, a princess like yourself deserved an exquisite gift from her prince, did she not?

rafayel was young and ignorant at that time. he had underestimated how fast time flew by, and before he knew it, it was dark out when he emerged from the waters. panicked and guilty, he prayed that you hadn't spent your whole evening waiting upon his arrival.

the air was chilly at night, he used to nag at you often. he knew how easily you'd catch a cold from the night breeze. yet, the merman didn't find it the least bit surprising when he spotted you loyally sitting by your balcony, looking into the reflections of the ocean as you patiently awaited for his return.

"you silly girl." his chide was accompanied with a disappointed sigh. "i told you not to wait for me when it gets dark outside, did you forget my words?" he added, his index finger and thumb gently pinching your warm cheek.

you mumbled out a barely coherent response, the fever seemed to be messing with your senses. but rafayel was able to make out a faint 'i wanted to see you' amidst the rest of your nonsensical mumbles.

hearing your sweet answer made his heart sink with guilt. his sweet princess wanted to see him as soon as possible. you wanted for his vision to be filled with you and only you the moment he emerged from the waters. your loyalty and dedication also came with a pinch of possessiveness, something that rafayel knew all too well.

"imagine how the kingdom will react when they find out your highness caught a cold waiting for her merman of a lover." rafayel couldn't help but squeeze in a teasing remark or two even in a situation like this. he squeezed your cheek once again, gently.

you whined out a response, but rafayel just laughed and shook his head. "shh. i won't leave your side until you're all better. promise." his sweet whispers accompanied with the tips of his fingers combing through your hair were your lullaby for that night.

the last thing you saw that night was a blurry view of rafayel sitting by the edge of your bed, looking at something in the palm of his hand. “i'll give this to you once you're better.” the merman whispered to himself with a fond smile.

rafayel hated when people left him waiting. it left him with an anxious feeling. a sense of abandonment. and he couldn't help but wonder, was this what you felt 800 years ago, when you were waiting by the balcony for him? just imagining how your poor, fragile heart felt during those hours as the day turned to night made his heart ache tremendously.

perhaps karma finally struck him for making his poor princess wait outside alone 800 years ago, as he suffered a similar fate.

"you're late. i told you i hate it when people are late." rafayel frowned, his lips forming into a pout as he crossed his arms, turning away from you.

you only laughed and hugged his arm, standing on your tippy toes to give him a peck on his soft lips as repentance for your tardiness.

the merman only huffed. as you looked away from him, rafayel stole a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision. his gaze wandered to the seashell hanging around your neck.

rafayel hated when people left him waiting. but maybe, after finally being able to give his heart to you once again after 800 years, just maybe, the wait was all worthwhile.

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funkynumaki · 3 days

Note

Could I request something for Naib and Norton? Maybe them expecting they'll be the dom during their first time with you (just because they're seen as tough/manly and that's the role they usually took when it comes to sex before they met you) but then you turn the tables on them and top them and them surprisingly loving it?

Turning table

Summary; they're usually the one who's in charge or take the lead in sex, so what happen if they have a partner who's more dominant than them?

Characters included: Norton Campbell and Naib Subedar

Warning: Dom!reader x Sub: character(s), handjob (G), slight blood mentioned in Norton's (like just one line).

A/N: sorry for not posting, something caught up and I lost motivation. But I'm back! I can't really promise if I'll be back long though. For now I'm trying to clear my draft <3.

(NOT PROOFREAD)

_________________________________________

|| Norton Campbell

- when you both start dating Norton always thought that he'll be the one who'll take in charge of intimate moment, credit to him it was an almost logical thinking of his. I mean, he's way bigger than you, so in his mind it's supposed to be him who's in charge, right?

- so it was a bit surprising to him when you prove him wrong. And more surprising that he ironically enjoy being in that position, even as much as sometimes he'd not like to admit.

"How is it?" You ask, looking at the man underneath you. Watching as groan and breathy moan slipped from his throat. "Fuckin-nh good..-" He manage to answer your question with little or no self control, especially in the state he's currently in. Your fingers move instinctively, teasing the tip of his dick, Tracing your nail slightly on it. "O-ohh shit-!Pl-ngh..!" His words barely coherent anymore. The prospector's back arched slighty at the sudden pace. "What's that..? You doesn't look like someone who's usually in charge right now.." You cooe in his ear, which he answer with a strangled moan. Your finger stop stimulating his tip, changing its main focus on the base. "Fuck! Ga-ahh..!" He throw his head back from the sudden pleasure that is now mainly on the base of his dick. His hand nails digging your back almost hard enough to drew blood. "Sensitive much, hm?" You chuckle as he try to suppress his noise by nipping on your neck, though it's a bit useless since his breathing is still labored. "Answer me, love. Let me hear how much you love it." You said, slightly threatening him by slowing your pace.

"Mnh..hh-! N-no-dont-fhuck!pl-ease..! I need it..-please-Ahngh! I love it-lo..veit so-much..!"

_________________________________________

|| Naib Subedar

- being a mercenary he is used to bring in charge, well mostly because he usually hold more power in the relationship. Trust is something important in naib's relationship, so even if he's already aware that you can switch and take in charge, he still needs sometimes to think. He trust you, just not sure at first about the idea.

- when the time arrives, it's best to be gentle with him. And let him get comfortable with being the one's bottoming. At first he thinks it feels a bit weird, but gradually enjoy it with each passing second.

You notice how he hides his slightly flushed face on the crook of your neck, trying to prevent any noise slipping out of his throat. "You okay..?" You ask, waiting for him to confirm that he's okay. Since the least that you want is accidentally hurting him when he finally show you his vulnerable side. ".. Yes.. J.. Just continue..-" Nodding at his confirmation, your hand slightly fasten its pace. "Ng-ahh-" A choked moan slipped down his tongue, his eyes trying to focus on your fingers as they wrapped around his throbbing dick. "No need to hold it, love. I want to hear you moan" You whisper in his ear, brushing a strand of his hair back. Naib let out a groan, eyes still focused on your fingers. His face still slightly flushed. Your nail trace the tip of his dick, he trashes his head back at the sudden stimulation against his tip. "Doing so good..." You cooe.

"A-ahh! Fuc-hh..please. S'good.."

_____________________________

I might post my art in this acc :0

#dom reader #identity v x reader #sub identity v #sub idv #norton campbell x reader #sub norton #sub norton campbell #naib subedar x reader #sub naib #sub naib subedar #idv smut #idv x reader #identity v smut

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braxlrose · 1 year

Note

You should do a bill!sub x reader. He has to whimper 🤭

sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill

okay so i actually have two requests for sub!bill so ill add in that one too.

request: what about dacryphilia but for bill. like riding him till hes crying but when you try to get off of him he just pulls you back asking for more, i mean being so fucked out he is bucking into you. from my favorite anon ;)

word count: 768

tw: handcuffs, (implied) mommy kink sort of? (it was only said twice), sub!bill, dom!reader, dacraphilia, hickies, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, implied drinking, begging.

"WHATEVER YOU WANT, BABY."

It was 11 'o clock at night. you had and bill had just gotten home from a party, both of you a little bit tipsy. Both of you had sweat running down your forehead because of all the dancing and people around you.

"Mmm bab..baby~" Bill came up behind you while you pulled off your sweaty clothes that had been sticking to your skin all night. A smirk crawled onto your face while bills arms wrapped around you, moving closer to your breasts. You raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't pay any attention to bill which ended up with him and his cute little face in a pout.

"Ba~byyy.." Bill now whispered with his hands on your hips and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking up at you.

"What is it bill?" you asked in a monotone voice, turning around to look at him.

"i want you.." His fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned in with a dopey smile on his face.

"Well im real tired baby, how about another day." you teased. It was pretty obvious you wanted him too after you strutted past him in your panties and bra. A pout stayed on bills face and the begging began. baby please. i need you so bad. my dick hurts. i know you want it too. youre so pretty baby. pretty please. please. please. please. mommy?

That was all enough to make you pull down your cute little strawberry panties and bra. which is what led to now.

"AaaAh baby please...slow down..slow down slow down slooooww down...." Bill had his head thrown all the way back as you rode his dick. his hands were handcuffed to the bed and he was completely sprawled out in front of you, all cute and naked. he had hickies all over his chest. you even made some in the shape of a heart surrounding his left nipple.

"But baby you're making me feel so fucking good. don't you like making me feel good? don't you, pretty boy?" and he did. he loved making you feel good. he loved every single second of it.

bill nodded his head, whispering barely coherent i love yous. his eyes were all glossy and his eyeliner was smeared everywhere. you had put a little lipstick on his lips too just to smear it around. why wouldn't you? you just loved your messy boy. "Please..." he whispered out to you, "I wanna touth..touch you..pleasth..un...uncuff me...." his words began to slur with a lisp as more teared poured out of his pretty brown eyes. you loved hearing him beg for you. it was like music to your ears. and as much as you loved to tease and edge your pretty boy, you loved hearing him happy. and you loved his slim fingers digging into your squishy thighs. so with that, you leaned forward, his dick slipping out of you causing a loud whine to leave bill, and you uncuffed him.

"AaAaahh~ put it back in...put it back in mommy...please...please..please please please please pleaseeeee." You raised an eyebrow and grabbed his face roughly.

"which one of us is in charge? because i thought it was me until you started ordering me around. you wanna be in charge baby. fine. go ahead and be in charge." you leaned over to the other side and him and got off of his stomach and laid down next to him.

"no. no. no...no. no. no. i dont wanna be in charge. im sorry....im sorry..do whatever you want with me please..im sorry.." drool started to form in the corners of his mouth along with the tears running down his face. he was so pretty like this. when he begged.

"I thought you wanted to order me around, baby?" You crossed your arms, squishing your boobs a bit.

"No, i didn't mean it. i didnt know what i was saying..please..ill make you feel good please.." you ran your heads over his head and down to his temple, rubbing it a bit. you looked at him with puppy dog eyes and bit your lip.

"Fine. but i hear you make one peep and im stopping." he nodded fast and laid back in his position. his dick looked so cute. it was all shaven clean and the tip was bright red. you touched it a bit to slide it back in you and that made his dick go crazy. it even slapped his stomach. that always made you smile. You finally grabbed his dick and slid it inside of you, making you throw your head back. "Mmm...i love this dick baby. its so perfect for me..you know that?" you were testing him. he was supposed to answer you whenever you asked him a question. he always did. that was a rule. but he also didn't want to make you mad. he wanted you to keep riding him until he passed out.

You smiled at him once he didn't answer you. he was such a good boy. you loved good boys. brats were little shits who didn't know their place, in your opinion. but bill was never like that. Bill knew what you wanted, what he wanted, and he was happy. you two were both happy.

you kept riding him for the next couples minutes with his fingers pressing into your hips. they were definitely gonna leave bruises. his eyes were closed again and he was biting at his lip so hard, trying not to make any noise. your little messy boy didn't even notice he was bucking into you. you could hear his breathing getting louder and his grip on your hips was tightening. that went on for another minute or so until you both twitched and came together. the loudest squeal that you have ever heard came out of bills drool-soaked mouth. it was so perfect. you began to lift yourself off of him but he didn't let go of your hips.

" i wanna stay i'side..." you carassed his cheek and grabbed a wipe off the counter to wipe off his sweaty makeup before leaning down to lay on his chest.

"whatever you want, baby."

A/N: i didn't proofread for sorry for any spelling mistakes. i hope this was up to your guys's liking!!

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #sub bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfics #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill x reader #smut #fluff #mommy kinks #dom reader

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secretlovezz · 7 months

Note

You know how you've written for Simon's S/O with a cat right. Well what if the cat one day dies, how would he comfort the reader?

As someone who has a cat I cry when I think about him leaving me behind (he's three lol but still) I love my baby and I can't imagine losing him.

Thank you for the request btw and i hope i did your ask justice 🫶❤️

Simon knows that "Your baby" is a little on the older side but because of the animal's usual rambunctious behavior, he had always figured he'd be around for some years longer. The "little devil" as Simon liked to call him was always on the move never too tired like some older animals might get, he never stopped eating -Simon had told you on multiple occasions that he felt your cat was getting fatter every time he looked at him- and with the number of times your boyfriend had lost something only to find your cat took it out of pure spit -and love- he definitely thought he'd be around longer.

So when he's leaving a meeting with the rest of the one-four-one and sees he's missed about fifteen calls from you and twenty-three panicked messages about your pet it's safe to say he's worried.

He's calling you back almost immediately his feet tapping on the ground harshly and when you pick up the phone his heart drops. You're sobbing in a way he's never heard before hyperventilating while trying to speak to him but the lack of air you're taking in is prohibiting you from being coherent. He could tell that the hand you were holding your phone in was shaking from the way your voice wavered with the movement. He's telling you to breathe, to take a deep breath in and out with him but his voice is going in one ear, and out the other, and you struggle to take in what he's saying from being too distraught.

For a moment Simon is lost, not with what happened he knows how to use context clues but he's lost on how to comfort you and he hates himself for it. The love of his life needs him and he's failing.

"-need you."

Simon blinks out of his little trance quickly entangling himself back into what you're saying, "What," he asks, he feels horrible for asking you to repeat yourself.

"I really need you here Simon," you hiccup through your sentence sniffling through more salty tears.

"Okay," He replies and though the both of you stop speaking after his brief response he never hangs up the phone he knows you don't want him to. Moving quickly now trying to catch up with Price before he locks himself in his office for the night Simon tries not to seem as panicked as he is but his eyes must give off the energy or maybe it was the phone still pressed up to his masked ear but Price wordlessly tells him to go before walking into his office and closing the door.

Now he's speed walking on the brink of jogging to get to his truck so he could see you. He makes sure to ignore any distractions including Johnny who tries to ask the lieutenant what his problem is.

When he is finally in his truck he breaks at least three laws to get to your apartment quicker, to get to you quicker and even as he drives he keeps you on the phone listening and trying to calm your cries but nothing he says seems to work and once again he feels like he's failing you. You'd hate to say it out loud but you barely listen to your boyfriend's attempts to comfort you out of pure shock and heartache.

Before long he's swinging his car into park, turning off his vehicle, and running up the stairs of your apartment building skipping steps and loudly stomping his way to his distressed lover.

Simon just about breaks the key hole shoving his key into it and grips the handle so tight he thinks it might snap off as he swings the door open, he finds you hunched over on the floor in front of the cat tree tower looking into the cubby. You're staring into it, eyes widened seemingly absentminded but Simon knows better he knows your mind is currently running a mile a minute he knows that whatever you see in that cubby you blaming yourself for whatever reason.

As he starts moving toward you his steps are dead silent in comparison to the way he had barged in not even minutes ago. He's moving as carefully as possible and then crouching down beside you, once again silently. Fat salty tears appear there and then in your eyes and drip down your face when Simon moves an arm around your shoulder pulling your shaking body into him. His hand rubs up and down your arm and he moves his still-masked face -he realizes- into your hair.

He peeks at what you are staring at and when he sees a still ball of fur curled up with one of your favorite scarves propping the little animal's head up he quickly hides his face back into your hair and you turn your face into his shoulder in response letting out a muffled and broken sob.

He's not sure what to say so he says what anyone would, "I'm Sorry, 'm so sorry, love."

The sound of his voice in person, here with you, makes you cry even harder. You don't know what to do with yourself You grab and pull at Simon's clothes and makeup and tears smear across his sweater.

Your lover is moving to pick you up before you can even realize he is moving. Your legs and arms wrap around him instantly and your face shoves itself further against his neck your nose rubbing back and forth to move his balaclava up so you could feel his skin against yours. He slowly brings you to your bedroom your gentle giant of a boyfriend holding you like the softest most delicate flower worried if he wasn't careful your petals would fall and wither.

Simon maneuvers one of his hands from under you and sets your duvet back, he lays you down on your sheets, puts your head against a pillow, and watches you curl in on yourself with a sigh. He presses a lingering kiss on your forehead while his hands push your hair from your eyes to reveal your heart-achingly sad face before covering your body with your duvet.

He stares at you for a moment opening and closing his mouth trying to figure out what to say before he finally asks, "Need to move him... that okay?"

You don't answer, it's like your staring through him.

Simon sighs again but this time it's unexpectedly shaky, leaving the room he closes the door behind him and rubs a hand down his face.

Simon leaves the apartment with a box that has him feeling particularly empty but when he returns he's empty-handed and even emptier than before.

He feels heavy when he takes off his boots and locks the door. His steps are also heavier than he would normally let them be as he walks back to your bedroom. You're in the same position he had left you in before he moved your cat still staring at nothing.

Your boyfriend walks to the bed and hesitates on whether or not he should climb into bed with you despite desperately wanting to hold you.

"Si...?"

You swear your lover's head has never popped up quicker to the sound of your voice. The two of you make eye contact with each other and his eyes only leave yours when your arms reach out from the blanket towards him. He lets himself slip under the duvet wraps one of his arms around you and cradles your head to his chest. Your legs tangle themselves with his and your arms twist around his torso. You squeeze him tight like you're scared he'll disappear if you let go and he squeezes back holding you even tighter in his strong arms.

Simon pats the back of your head lovingly and it helps your shoulder sag and makes your hold on him loosen.

"I love you, dove," once again his words make your eyes water and your bottom lip quiver. He trips over his words a little when he speaks next a little worried they'll sound insincere, "It- you'll be okay, it'll be alright."

He's rocking you back and forth a little now and soon enough your breathing is evening out your lips parted from your cheek being squished against his firm chest. Your hushed cries and whimpering have stopped and the room is now silent but this silence leaves him feeling a little uneasy.

---------

A week later Simon stands behind you after just having buried your baby and he holds you all the way back to the car after you leave flowers on the fresh dirt.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley comfort #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic

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sugawara-levi · 9 months

Text

Bokuto + in the car | Under the bridge

❀ Bokuto Koutarou x fem!reader

❀ 0,8k words

❀ setting: smut, car sex, established relationship

❀ cw: handjob (f receiving), petnames (babe), swearing (fuck), creampie, unprotected sex

Bokuto will just pull up at a random curb while you’re out driving and look you dead in the eyes and goes,

“Babe, I’m horny” with the biggest doe eyes you ever saw. Fuck what a beautiful sight that man is.

It doesn’t take long till you’re parked in a more secluded spot with his hand between your thighs, working it’s magic.

Slowly, slowly his palms drag up along you thighs, lingering where they are fuller, where they barely touch each other if you stand up straight. It’s his favourite spot.

Soon enough his lips are on yours, you can’t think straight but you can feel him drawing circles through the fabric of you trousers.

As his lips travel on from you mouth, freeing your quiet moans, his hand starts rubbing up and down the inside of your thighs, just how you like it. You have to pull him off of your neck to get him back on your lips, and you feel your lips burn as your teeth clash together forcefully.

“Fuck, y/n.”

As he’s moving on to your clit you can feel yourself getting hard and wet at the friction, and your hips buck up involuntarily against his hand.

“So pretty, so pretty my y/n.”

You can barely suppress you moans, the tiny bit of sanity you have left reminding you that you are still in the car, still in a public area.

“Louder for me babe? Can’t hear ya, no one can hear ya, just me.”

That’s what it takes for your sanity to disappear completely. Don’t think Bokuto is any better, mumbling and fumbling all over you. With the sounds of the both of you combined you can probably be heard a mile away.

Soon your bottom clothes are discarded as he works his way around your panties to start gnawing at your core without any annoying hindrances. It’s so hot down there, his fingers are almost burning against your skin, and the seat beneath you is definitely getting soaked.

In a slow motion he drags his finger through your labia before he pushes one in ever so slightly. There's just something about the setting that makes this whole thing way more exiting than it needed to be, and you inhale sharply against his lips as he ads a second finger. Pumping in and out of you. With how wet you are the friction is not nearly enough and you're humping against his every thrust.

“Boku... need more.” you get out between his intense kisses.

“On it babe.”

Looking over to his side you can see that he's already unbuckled his trousers and is sporting a rather obvious hard-on. How had you not noticed till now?

He's working on his own needs for merely a second before you lean over and pull his seat as far back as it goes.

“Oh-ho~ impatient are we?” he teases.

Instead of answering you climb over to his seat and position yourself as best you can.

Looking up at him he looks so pleased with himself, like you’re some fucking trophy. You decide to silence him.

In a spark of lust you grab his face by the cheek and look him dead in the eyes as you lower yourself onto his cock.

“o”

It’s your turn to grin, “Not so cocky now, huh?”

He lets out an exasperated breath followed by chantings of your name. “y/n y/n y/n.”

When you start moving up and down it doesn’t take long for the both of you to be reduced to nothing but moans.

Some boys are quiet, Bokuto is not one of them.

Your moans as well as his breaths and grunts and occasional moans fill the whole car.

When he starts bucking up into you you can barely keep up anymore and you have to use all your energy to steady yourself against the roof of the car. As he pushes up into you with all his might.

In the back of your mind you register briefly that maybe you’re being just a bit more vocal than usual. Is it the setting? Are you both turned on so much by raw fucking in the car?

As his breathing becomes less coherent and your moans more of a whimper the answer is clear to you.

“Fuuck Y/n, cumming”

“me too baby” with your neck craned like this up agains the roof it’s a wonder it didn’t break.

“can I- come inside? Beautiful girl”

“mhm, yeah, please, haah”

At the same time you both reach your climax. You shuddering against him, his pace stopping and you finally coming down from the awkward position.

Resting on his lap you can feel the cum still spurting inside of you as you both come down from your heights. And slowly making its way down and out as he goes limp inside you.

“That. was great.”

“Repeat another time?”

“Fuck yes.”

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©sugawara-levi: do not copy or republish as your own

interactions are welcome ❀

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starlitmark · 3 months

Text

Summary: Whatever you did to mess up the recipe really has you desperate for Kun. Pairing: Wizard!Kun x fem apprentince!reader Tropes: magic au, wizardry au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, magic, fictional herbs Smut Warnings: aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f receive), sudden female orgasm, unprotected sex, marking, crying, aftercare Word Count: 1,700 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Note: thank you to @stardragongalaxy for proofreading! Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Same Scent by Oneus

“Watch this brew while I handle the inventory for a moment.” Kun smiles sweetly.

“Are you sure? I can do inventory. I don’t want to mess–”

Kun shakes his head, “I trust you.”

You nod and move toward the cauldron. The bubbling brew smells sweet, almost as if to draw you in more. You vaguely hear Kun talking to himself in the storage room, likely checking how many phoenix feathers you have left. You started running low, but your pet phoenix just rebirthed, and its feathers are nowhere ready to molt yet. That or maybe he’s checking the progress on the pixie dust crystalization. Either way, you swear you hear him call you. Whipping your head around, you see him still deep in the store room, not even attempting to get your attention. When you turn, though, you move the spoon and knock it into a small vile next to the cauldron. You close your eyes and slowly turn your head back to the large cast iron pot. When you open your eyes, it looks the same. It just smells the slightest bit sweeter— the vile lies on its side, with barely a drop still inside it.

“The brew should be done! Put the fire out, okay?”

You nod, even if he might not see it, “O-okay!”

“Also,” Kun says, walking back into the kitchen, “I want you to try a little bit of it. It’s a romantic-based potion, but just one sip won’t do anything.”

You don’t want to seem suspicious, so you nod, take a small spoon from the side table, and dip it into the metallic pink liquid. After blowing on it a few times, you place the spoon against your lips and sip it. Instantly, a rush of heat goes through your body. Everything is hypersensitive. You’re far more aware of everything around you than you’d like to be. When you look back at Kun, he can immediately tell something is off with you. You suddenly feel the need to fuck him like your life depends on it. You’ve always respected the line of Wizard and apprentice, no matter how hot he is. Now, though, all you can imagine is being absolutely railed by him to the point that you can’t form a coherent word in your mind.

“Are you okay?”

“Kun,” your voice comes out almost like a moan.

His eyes go wide as saucers. Then his eyes darted to the cauldron. He leans over and smells the sweeter scent. Before even thinking to check his surroundings, he dips his hand in, using it as a cup of sorts, and sips the liquid as well. Suddenly, in his peripheral, he notices the knocked-over vile. Amorus.

“You knocked over the Amorus.” He states with a slight groan, picking up the small glass container, “How much– fuck…”

“I didn’t want to upset you.” You pout and step closer, “Kun, could we maybe…”

He was starting to feel the effects of the potion as well, and damn, did he need to see you fall apart for him right now. He finds himself leaning in slowly, and you are, too. There are so many lines being blurred right now, but with the effects of the botched potion, neither of you can think about anything other than fucking each other. Kun places his hand on your waist, and you feel goosebumps on your skin when his hand makes contact. Finally, his lips are on yours. It’s not a very coordinated kiss, but it’s desperate, needy, sloppy. You absolutely melt at the sensation. Kun whispers something against your lips. It’s a spell you don’t know yet. You’re so fixated on him that when you finally let your hands wander, and you don’t feel fabric, you moan against his lips.

“That’s a fun little spell I can teach you once these potions wear off.” Kun chuckles, “It’s very handy, no?”

“Kun, please?”

He wraps his arms around your waist fully and tells you to jump. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly. A whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of your clit pressed against his bare skin. His cock stands tall and is perfectly pressed against your ass. You find yourself seated on one of the worn wooden tables. It’s not the most comfortable, but it’s more than enough for Kun to lay you out and fuck you stupid.

You hear the sound of jars and dishes being pushed to the side haphazardly as Kun guides you to lay back fully on the table. His kisses finally start trailing down your throat and between the valley of your breasts. You have a constant stream of moans and profanities falling from your mouth as Kun hungrily lays wet kisses everywhere he can. When his kisses finally reach your lower belly, you can’t help but let your hips jerk. Each kiss grows just a bit closer to where you need him.

Even though he’s just as desperate as you are, the fact that he’s putting you first has your belly swooping and flipping. He continues to place kisses against the area just above your soaked entrance. You tangle your hand in his hair, and that gives him the last bit of push to lick a wide stripe up your folds. He eats you out like a starved man. After a few licks, he sucks on your clit. Kun continues this pattern for a while. Your other hand finds a place in his hair as well, tugging at the reddish-brown strands as he makes you melt into a feral puddle. He brings a hand up to your folds while his mouth is focused on your clit. Kun presses two fingers against your cunt, barely teasing your entrance.

“Kun,” you moan, “Please just put them in, don’t tease me!”

Kun releases your clit for a moment, chuckling through a smirk. He pushes his fingers into you. You knew you were sensitive, but you suddenly feel arousal burn through you so hot that your orgasm tumbles through you. Your thighs shake around his head, wanting desperately to close. Kun holds one of your thighs down, stopping you from fully closing them. Kun doesn’t stop; he continues to lap at your clit while pistoning his fingers into you. The overstimulation burns through you in the most pleasurable pain you’ve ever known.

“You’re still so needy.” Kun muses, pulling away from your pussy, face still covered in your arousal, “You want me to fuck you?”

Your eyes are glazed over and needy. His fingers still pushing in and out of you render your brain completely empty. Your mental space is nothing more than an aroused fog. Kun chuckles again as you nod so hard you nearly smack your head against the hardwood of the table. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you whimper at the lack of contact. A moment later, you feel him rubbing his tip through your folds, and that same painful pleasure returns as he pushes his cock against your clit.

“Ready? I’m gonna make you see god, maybe even more.” He practically growls.

“Kun, please!” You moan, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He pushes into you and immediately pistons his hips against yours. You scream out at the feeling of the overstimulation. Kun pulls your legs up beside your chest on either side and holds them there before pressing his body against yours. The feeling of his bare skin on yours makes you have a fresh shot of arousal course through your body.

Neither of you is going to last very long. The potion won’t allow that. You’re already well on your way to your second orgasm as it is. Kun hides his face against the junction of your neck and shoulder. He starts to bite the bare skin, leaving teeth marks and hickeys. You dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent moons behind. Locking your legs around his hips, you feel your second orgasm burst forth almost painfully.

“So fucking good.” He growls, “You feel so fucking good. Maybe I should stay wrapped up in this pussy all day, every day.” “Please!” You gasp, starting to come back down from your orgasm.

The overstimulation is almost too painful, but you also don’t want to stop. Kun starts to moan more often, which you assume to be an alert to his impending orgasm. You hardly come down from your second orgasm when the third forces its way through. Tears start rolling down your cheeks as the nearly painful orgasm wrecks you. As you scream and moan at the feeling, Kun’s orgasm finally hits him. He pulls out and cums across your belly. He pushes his fingers back into you and presses his thumb to your clit to help you ride out the rest of your orgasm.

When you finally start to catch your breath, Kun has already manifested two glasses of water and wiped your belly clean. He pulls you to sit up and then onto his lap. Your body is shaky and weak from the intensity of three orgasms and crying. The wizard continually rubs your back and presses kisses to your hair.

“The potion wear off for you?” He asks quietly.

“Mmm,” is all you can muster at the moment.

“You did so good, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

You shift in his lap, wincing slightly at your sore state.

“Was it too much?”

“I think we both needed to fuck it out.” You mumble, still very much out of it.

Kun nods and holds you a bit tighter, “If you accidentally mess up a potion again, just tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond, “Kun?”

“Hmm?”

“What does this mean?”

Kun sighs in thought, “It doesn’t need to mean anything. But– you want honesty?”

“Complete.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking you out on a date or two if you let me.”

You pull your head away from his shoulder, “I’m your apprentice… is that allowed?”

He shrugs at you, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who have their partners as their apprentices.”

You smile, “I’d like that then, only if you promise we can have fun with this new brew sometimes still.”

“Deal.”

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

#kun smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #joongfryefff24 #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct x reader #wayv x reader #nct smut #wayv smut #kun fanfic #kun x reader

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altschmerzes · 4 days

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as a treat for @jamiesfootball, an extended sequence of softness and light, taken from far ahead in wriggle up on dry land (the baby jamie au). enjoy, my friend <3

Jamie has been repeatedly assured by both Roy and Sarah that what he is doing is fine and allowed, but even so, the walk up the path to the school building makes him more nervous with every step he takes. He feels like any moment now he’s going to get accosted by a teacher or school official and interrogated about what he’s doing here. Possibly arrested. If it weren’t for the fact that he would rather die than let either of the Kents down, let alone both of them, he would probably chicken out and run or something. But he would rather die and the task does need to be done, and so here’s Jamie, finding a teacher in the courtyard and walking up to her like he has every right to be here.

“Hello,” he says to the woman, doing his best to sound trustworthy and respectable and not like an awkward sixteen-year-old. “I’m Jamie, I’m here to pick up Phoebe Kent?”

There’s only a moment between when Jamie speaks and when the teacher does, but that moment is plenty long enough for a thousand potential responses to cycle through his mind, none of them positive. And then-

“Oh! Right, yes, Jamie,” the teacher on after-school duty says brightly, flipping up a piece of paper on her clipboard. “Yes, Sarah did call about you picking Phoebe up this afternoon, she sent your picture along as well. Come along, I’ll fetch her for you.”

Still not entirely believing that this was all going to work out, Jamie follows her across the pavement.

“Nice of you to look after your cousin like this,” the woman says without turning around, and what sounds like it was intended to be an offhanded, casual comment stops Jamie in his tracks. It takes her a few seconds to notice, and it takes just about as long for Jamie’s brain to catch up with his mouth and produce any sort of coherent response.

“Huh?” Okay so maybe ‘coherent’ was pushing it.

The teacher has stopped as well, turned to look at him with slight confusion on her face. That’s rich, given that she’s the one who’s just said something that didn’t make any sense at all.

“Oh,” she says, “just that when your aunt called and said her brother’s lad was going to be taking Phoebe home on the bus today I wasn’t expecting how young you are. My boy is just a little older than you and I couldn’t get him to babysit my sister’s lass if I tried.”

The gears in Jamie’s head slowly start creaking back to life. The math does itself rather quickly, and before he can say anything else, he hears his name shrieked out and then there’s the sound of thudding light-up trainers on the pavement. Jamie barely has the time to crouch down and open his arms before Phoebe has hurtled straight into him, nearly knocking him off balance.

“You’re getting big then, eh, what do they feed you at school, Phoebs, rocks?” he asks, a little winded from the impact and from what the teacher had said. Your cousin. Your aunt. Her brother’s lad.

“No-o-o,” Phoebe giggles, drawing the word out. She bounces out of Jamie’s arms a moment later, never staying still for more than a few moments at a time. They aren’t separated for long, though. A little hand latches onto Jamie’s almost immediately after Phoebe exits the hug and she starts to swing their interlocked fingers enthusiastically. “Can we go home now please? I’m sure Dauphine has missed me terribly while I’ve been away.”

Looking to the teacher, Jamie waits for further instructions from the adult in charge. It surely can’t be that easy to just show up and take a child from school, name and photo on hand or not. He must have to… well, he doesn’t know, but there’s got to be some kind of test. Some kind of ‘will you get this seven year old home in one piece’ test that he’ll have to undergo.

“Off you pop!” says the after-school duty teacher. She smiles at both of them and gives an exaggerated wave that seems like a bit much even for a kid Phoebe’s age. She’s a bright little gremlin, she doesn’t need to be condescended to.

“Right, okay,” Jamie says, blinking at the teacher even as Phoebe starts tugging him by the hand towards the gate. “Uh, thanks,” he calls over his shoulder, then focuses on not falling over his feet or the kid leading the way. “So, you ever taken the bus before?”

“The bus!” From the tone with which she’s exclaimed it, you would think Jamie had just told Phoebe they would be riding home on a pony made of gold. “Oh I love the bus.”

“That’s the attitude, mini-Kent.” It’s an acutely funny thing for a kiddie her age to say, but Jamie focuses on not laughing. He doesn’t want to discourage her interests or whatever. Nothing feels worse when you’re young than someone older than you laughing at you.

Their hands keep swinging between them, and every so often Phoebe adds a little skip into her gait. It makes the lights in her trainers go wild, little yellow and pink stars flashing against the grey of the pavement. She chatters as they go about her day at school, about how she thinks maths is dull and how she and her new best friend Cierra were going to write a comic book together about their cats being best friends and solving crime. Jamie responds where appropriate, humming and nodding and asking questions. He wants for her to know that she’s being listened to, but he would have to admit that his mind isn’t all focused on the proposed adventures of Dauphine and Prime Minister Socks. Instead, he’s still thinking about that teacher’s voice and the way she’d smiled at him when she’d told him it was nice of him to look after his cousin.

Your aunt. Her brother’s lad. Had Sarah said those words exactly? The teacher surely hadn’t invented them out of thin air. They had to come from someplace, and the thought makes Jamie feel warm inside and a little bit shy. He tries to imagine it, to picture what it would have sounded like. Sarah’s voice saying, My nephew, Jamie, he’ll be picking up Phoebe today. Yeah, he’s my brother’s lad. All the way to the bus stop and up the steps onto the bus he thinks of different ways that it could have gone, in-between responding to Phoebe. All of them feel… They feel good. They feel right.

Sure it’s lying and lying isn’t exactly right, but what’s the harm? It’s one teacher at a school Jamie has never been to before and probably will never go to again, this being a one-off fluke of scheduling and convenience. What does it matter if she thinks he’s Sarah’s nephew? Roy’s… Roy’s lad? So what if Jamie likes the idea of someone out there thinking that, even if it isn’t true?

“You’re smiling.”

The observation comes after what Jamie belatedly realizes has been an extended silence from Phoebe. She’s sitting on the bus seat beside Jamie, legs swinging back and forth and his hand clutched in hers. They’d let go for just a moment while Jamie took care of their fares, and then Phoebe had promptly reclaimed her place hanging onto him, which is encouraging as far as her awareness of travel safety goes.

“Am I?” Jamie asks. He’s sure that his face has turned a lovely shade of red, and he only hopes that at least will pass unnoticed.

“Yes, you are,” she confirms, nodding for emphasis. Then, as if to prove her point, Phoebe lets go of his hand just long enough to poke him in the cheek. “You’ve been smiling all the way to the bus. It’s nice. I think you should smile more. I think everybody should smile more, because smiling means you’re happy, and I think everyone should be happy. Except for Walter Lewis who is a mean, mean boy who chased my friend Stephen with a worm on a stick yesterday, so I think he should be sad, and go and live in tarnation.”

“He should go and live in what?” Anything else he could have asked flies promptly out of Jamie’s brain at that completely incomprehensible conclusion. This could be a matter of her knowing things that he didn’t, which is entirely possible, because geography has never been Jamie’s strongest point, or this is about to be a much funnier interaction. If they get to move off of Jamie’s expression before she could get to asking him why he was smiling, all the better.

“Tarnation,” Phoebe says, pronouncing it very deliberately and primly. “That’s what Mister Ted says all the time. What in tarnation, he says, and so it must be a very bad place, because he does not frown very much and he’s always frowning when he says that. So I think Walter Lewis should go and live in tarnation and not be mean to anyone anymore. And he can be sad forever there.” A frown creases her little face as she thinks very hard on it for a moment. “Actually, no, he doesn’t have to be sad forever. That would be terrible, even for Walter Lewis. He should be sad for a while, though. A very, very long time. Like, maybe even until he’s ten. Or until he learns to stop chasing people with worms.”

The effort with which Jamie is not laughing is nothing short of heroic. He takes a few deep breaths, ensures that nothing is going to slip out, and then he tells her, “That seems like a very fair decision. He can live in tarnation and be sad until he’s ten, or until he learns to stop chasing people with worms.”

“Exactly,” Phoebe responds. She nods, a sharp jerk of her chin and a self-satisfied conviction in her face that makes her look very much like Roy. “I’m glad you understand.” Then, in the flip of a moment, as fast as everything seems to change with children her age, Phoebe has let go of Jamie’s hand so that she can slip both arms around his elbow, hugging close to him and pressing the side of her face into his bicep. “I’m so happy you got to come ride the bus with me today, Jamie. Let’s do this again lots of times, okay?”

Jamie finds it suddenly very hard to speak. His throat feels tight and his eyes prickle with heat and he is not going to cry on this fucking bus and definitely not in front of Phoebe Kent and most certainly not because a seven-year-old asked him to hang out with her again.

Nice of you to look after your cousin like this. Your aunt called and said her brother’s lad was going to be taking Phoebe home on the bus today.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, when he’s glad that an entirely new kind of unwanted sound won’t slip out alongside the words. Lifting his arm, Jamie carefully dislodges her grip and wraps it around her shoulders instead, letting Phoebe cuddle in close to his side, even though her swinging feet kick him in the shin every so often. His other hand keeps a firm grasp on her book bag, and he feels both very young and very grown up all at once. “Yeah, I’d like that, too.”

#gav gab #fic: wriggle up on dry land #writing liveblog #im so. cradles them.

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whorety-k · 14 days

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Ebony Coasts [Part 5]

Batten down the hatches, my friends. This one is a L O N G one but it was so worth it.

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Unloveable - The Smiths

“If I seem a little strange / well, that’s because I am /

But I know that you would like me /

If only you could see me / if only you could meet me /

I don’t have much in my life / but take it, it’s yours.”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, hospital mention, blood / injury descriptions, AMERICAN HEALTHCARE, more horrors of a nine-to-five (Dolly Parton would have words), extreme weather, angst, hurt / comfort

Word Count: 3.9k (SORRY)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 6] [Part 7 (NSFW)]

Driving on uneven roads is difficult enough on its own, and having only one hand while amped up on adrenaline and preoccupied about potentially having lost Corvus forever makes you downright reckless. A particularly hard thump! has you worried about your car’s alignment but you simply add it to the list of things wrong and continue down the road.

The emergency room sucks. You’re not even fully in reality by the time you finish checking in, clutching your still-bleeding hand in your lap with not more than a couple pads of gauze and a random towel you had laying around in the back of the car. It’s a miracle how a human can bleed for over two hours and still be fully coherent enough to lie to their nurses and doctors about a knife slipping while cutting twine.

They don’t believe you for a second, but they both aren’t paid enough and are over-worked enough not to care. Everyone lies in the ER.

A shot of lidocaine and eighteen stitches later, you’re sent on your way with opioid pain meds you won’t be taking and a deep appreciation that Corvus hadn’t scored your dominant hand. It’s still irritating when you get home and try to undress to shower, unable to flex your injured hand at all. You straight up decide against actually cooking, heating up a frozen meal in the microwave and sitting on the couch to overthink everything once more.

The look of complete dismay on Corvus’s face before he left haunted you.

You had long accepted that the black betta mer wasn’t the most emotionally expressive individual. His carefully neutral countenance rarely gave way to more than a quirk of a brow or occasional lip-turn, so the twisted look of open terror on his pale face shook you to your core both now and then. Hell, in the moment you had even been able to forget about a two and a half inch long laceration in your palm from sheer worry for him.

You never would have expected a creature so powerful to run.

Another cold spoonful goes down roughly at the thought, and, dissociated, you decide you’ve had enough sustenance. You crawl into bed, exhausted, and feel your limbs sink heavily into the mattress as a deep sigh leaves your lungs. A hollow feeling permeates your chest.

You can’t help the rush of emotions that suddenly overcomes you, choked sobs racking your body as you curl up into a miserable ball around your pillow. The action brings only scant comfort to the throbbing ache in your chest. You don’t remember falling asleep.

The beach is cold, but you don’t care.

You felt stupid coming back to the shoreline the day after everything, so you waited. Your Monday rolls around and you try to go back to the coast before work, briskly searching high and low for a glimpse of black fins and a glittering night’s-sky of scales. The tides grant you no such favors, and two hours are wasted on nothing when you’re forced to leave. You deflect every question from your coworkers with lies about a kitchen accident.

The next day is scarcely different. You finish your shift in the office like a reanimated corpse, putting in the bare minimum to not have anyone look twice in your direction. You can’t even remember more than the gist of the report you had just read on illegal fishing activity a hour south of you, another damned case of foreign bodies trying to use nonexistent loopholes in the law to talk their way into overfishing protected areas. It was a Coast Guard issue and never should have crossed your desk to begin with, but here you are, tangled in another mess outside of your depth.

You slam the door of your Bronco shut before you stomp onto the dark shore, not bothering to take the cliff down to Corvus’s den this time because you know you don’t have the brain capacity to even think about scaling the rocks. The extra five minute trip down and around the cliffside riddles you with nausea that intensifies when the light of your flashlight finds the entrance to the cavern.

Of course Corvus isn’t there; you weren’t expecting him to be, yet still it anguishes you. Three days without the merman in your life and you’re already starting to fall apart? It makes you feel pathetic for having grown attached to him so quickly.

But Corvus had never made you feel that way. Never once had he made you feel like your presence had been a burden to him, eagerly listening to every word you had said to him. He always replied with a caring thoughtfulness to any query you gave him, firm with his boundaries yet forgiving to the innocent faults that had occurred.

Corvus had a way of making you feel genuinely listened to, even when he didn’t always reply. It was weird to describe someone like him as warm, given his penchant for reserved silence and generally closed-off nature, but the sincere cordiality he had with you had never failed to stir emotions in your chest that you had felt far too anxious to put a label on at the time.

You realize just how taken care of you had always been with the merman. He offered to hunt for you, even if the incident with the ducklings had been an awkward misunderstanding. He made a place for you within his den that could never have any functional use for him as his size. Hell, he would stride along you in the sand instead of asking you to join him in the waves because it was easier for you. You’re wearing a piece of his hoard!

He cared about you.

Your hand gently grasps the raven head pendant, and you sit down in the rickety chair that Corvus has specially gotten for you. The luminescents on the walls seem dimmer than before, and you notice how wilted they’ve become in Corvus’s short absence. Pushing aside the thought that the mer had been putting in actual maintenance to accommodate for you, you brush your hand against the cerulean phosphorescent flora.

Corvus had taken care of you when you hadn’t asked for it, so you were going to do the same.

Searching the den for anything vaguely cup-like to transfer water with turns up nothing, so you resort to cupping your healthy hand in that small stream leading into the den. You punctiliously pour the brine over each of the parched plants until they’re saturated. By the time you’ve finished, you notice the vegetation you had started with has already begun to glow brighter. You glow brighter than the cave in that moment.

Wednesday still bears no sign of Corvus, but it does teach an important piece of information: this den had not been abandoned like the others.

You finally gather the courage to check inside of the decorated bed space at the back of the den for the first time since the giant’s disappearance, and you’re flooded with relief when you see the large cache of dazzling objects still lining the walls. Corvus hadn’t left, per se. He just hadn’t returned yet.

In your jacket pocket is the trusty metal pen Corvus had fixated on so long ago, and in a moment of weakness, you leave it on the stone shelf at the center of the cavern. You had other pens. This one should be his… even if he can’t use it.

You keep coming back to maintain the cavern: wetting the algae and mushrooms, clearing the space of any excess sand the tides brought in, polishing the corroded metals in his collection— nothing escapes your watchful eye. You’ve even accidentally fallen asleep on the bed of furs and grasses, waking up in a flurry to see that you were late for work and needed to leave now, even if you dreaded doing so.

You always leave a new trinket behind on the round stone ‘table’. Old jewelry, a piece of abalone shell, a tea ball you haven’t used in ages, rose quartz, an entire abalone shell (that you’ve now started to use to hold everything), cool brooches you found at another beach, an enamel pin in the shape of a flying crow, and many other items from around your apartment make their way into Corvus’s den. You rearrange the items into a nice display before you leave.

A week passes. Half of a month. An entire month. The gash on your hand has healed well, the stitches removed with strict instructions to keep the area clean.

Each day, no matter the weather, you return to Corvus’s beach. The den is monotonous, and recently, you’ve begun to avoid going inside of it lest you have to face the untouched items on the rock shelf more often than necessary. The physical effort to place something in the pile is nothing by now, but mentally, it wears on you.

What if all of this had been for nothing? You had been forcing such doubtful thoughts out of your head for a month faithfully, always trying to look on the bright side. You’ve waited longer for a pay-off before, haven’t you?

Why was this any different?

…because it hurts. No matter what pep talks you give yourself or happy memories you relive, coming back to the beach hurts.

You’ve been persistent to the point you’re starting to think that you’re nothing more than an annoyance instead of the oh-so-great protector of the coasts you had foolishly thought yourself to be. What a sick fantasy, you think, meddling in the life of something so obviously beyond you. The delusion that you could ever be a part of Corvus’s realm has poisoned you to the point of desperately coming back to the barren sands for even a hope that you’ll see more than the black apparition in the reveries of your mind.

The apartment is a mess. Unfolded laundry piles in the basket, dirty clothes along the floor. You’ve used the same towel to shower for long enough that it’s starting to smell of mildew, but just thinking about the effort of washing a load of towels makes you feel like lead. It took an infestation of ants for you to do the mountain of dishes that piled in your sink. Everyday tasks become chores, and chores feel impossible.

Still, you drag yourself out to work again today. The weather is awful: torrential downpour with gusts of wind that nearly knock you off of your feet. No one is working in the field today lest OSHA get a taste of blood in the water (literal or metaphorical). You drum your fingertips across the wooden desk as you read a private request for development nearby a protected habitat, opposite hand fiddling with your necklace. You can’t bring yourself to take it off, even if it hurts to see in the mirror each day.

You’re in the middle of a paragraph about intended waste management when a heckling voice jogs you out of it. “I didn’t take you for the goth type,” it jeers, and you look up to see one of the environmental science team leads. A man twice your age. What was his name again?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you retort, audibly weary.

“The necklace,” he gestures at your throat. Your coworker sits against your desk, uninvited, looking down at you with leery eyes. “Haven’t seen you in that number before.”

You simply shake your head and look back down at the paper, uninterested in the conversation. He doesn’t take the hint.

The lead continues, “You haven’t been as chipper recently. Where’s your spunk? Your fire?—” he follows the words with a ridiculous hand gesture— “Those bags under your eyes could be checked in at the airport.”

You’d laugh at his joke if you weren’t already in such a piss-poor mood. “I’m just tired,” you state, not turning your head to look at him, “I’ll be fine.”

A hand on your shoulder causes you to jolt. “Look, kid, we’ve all got our bad days, but I can tell when someone needs a break—”

You throw the offending hand off of you and stand up roughly, throwing your chair back into the wall in the process. You feel heated. “I told you, I’m fine!” Your words are laced with venom, scratchy and raw and bitter.

The commotion causes the lead to recoil, distaste written on his face. Other people in the office are starting to stare, and you meet each of their gazes individually. Maybe that was a bit too far.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and head falling forward. Everything aches. “You’re right,” you admit, offering an apologetic look to what’s-his-name, “I’m not feeling well.”

It takes no more than a few minutes to submit your request to leave early. As soon as it’s approved, you rush out of the building. The torrent building inside of you has nothing on the rain around, and you high-tail it out of the parking lot.

Truly, you didn’t mean to end up back here today. The ocean is too rough, the cliff perilous, the beach an utter mess. The thought of just how stupid your actions are does nothing to stop you, though.

You run down the embankment to the dock, shoes getting soaked from the crashing waves as you search the water.

Nothing.

You scramble to the den, slipping and falling down the rocky slope and barely catching yourself before you hit your head.

Nothing.

You claw your way through the sands— up soggy hills and over rocky ledges, around complex twists and turns in the sandstone, under and over jutting stones, looking anywhere for alabaster white.

Nothing.

You’re back at the dock, watching the serpent of metal squirm and thrash in the storm. With unstable footing, you sloppily traverse the writhing mass of steel, barely able to hold yourself upright as you reach the end of it. The storm forces you to your knees, and you place your hands on the lip. Despondency grips you, tearing at your throat.

“I’m sorry!” you cry, voice drowned out by the thundering of rain. “I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry!” A black wave pummels into your small body, the force of an ocean threatening to knock you off of the dock. Still, you cling. You duck your head against the chilled metal, letting out a hissed breath before inhaling a mouthful of seawater. Blubbering, coughing, you rise back up and look out over the waves. They are cold and unflinching.

When the fury of the storm lulls, you force yourself to continue, hoarse. “I messed up and I just want to know how, okay? I don’t know what I did, I—” you choke off a sob, shaking your head, “I-I…” Muscles cry at you to stop, body begging you to return to the car for warmth. You persevere. You have for the last month.

“I miss you, okay!” The wail carries across the ocean, echoing across the tides back at you like a taunt. Even in the calm of the storm, rain batters against you. The dock stops squirming so intensely, and you take the moment to catch your breath.

Even in your honesty, even in your raw vulnerability, screaming to the heavens for an answer, you receive nothing.

You turn away from the ocean and sink down onto yourself, defeated. The sobs you had been holding at bay spill out, and you hug your knees as you bawl into them. Your clothes are soaked, the wind is cold, and your chest feels miserable.

Even with the storm beginning to pass by, you feel no better. You will away the tears eventually, wiping wet tears with a wet sleeve that feels like sandpaper, and ready yourself to leave.

The utterly shattered face of Corvus Corax looks at you, a few feet from the edge of the dock, just barely above the water. Eyes of onyx lay wide with guilt, grimacing.

You do not hesitate to throw yourself into the choppy water at him.

Corvus has no time to react to your actions before you wrap your arms around his neck clinging onto him as you gasp like a fish, clutching the coal-and-bone giant close to you like a lifeline. Right now, in the swell, he was.

Tentative arms snake around your midsection, slowly but surely pulling you closer to him. You feel the merman press his face into your soaked hair, taking in a deep breath of your scent before a rumble leaves him. “This is no place for you,” he whispers, and you can only feel him fly through the water like a bolt of lightning, unable to look up from his neck with how firmly he holds you. When you can finally move your head, Corvus already has the both of you on land, beelining it for the den with a look of conviction on his face.

You didn’t even know you were trembling before you got inside, the surprising warmth of the cavern thawing the numbness in your arms and legs. The frantic betta strides right past the chair in the main room with you in his arms, heading straight for the bed space. It’s only when he gets to the ‘bed’ that he abruptly stops, looking down at you.

“You’ve rested here before.” It’s another half-question, half-statement, and once again it’s correct.

“I fell asleep after taking care of the algae, I’m sorry—”

Corvus cuts you off by hastily lying the both of you on the furs and feathers, the action causing you to let out an ‘oof’ as the air is forced from your lungs. The way he curls and desperately clings to you like a lost child has you feeling all sorts of complex emotions, but you do not fight it. When you open your mouth to speak, he gently shushes you with a shake of his head. You rest beneath his chin in silence.

For the first time in over a month, everything feels okay.

“I hurt you,” Corvus’s gentle voice breaks the silence, barely audible. It’s laced with sorrow so deep that it cuts into your heart. With a shaky hand, the giant mer peels you away from him, looking your entire form over.

You show him your scabbed and scarring palm, the area pink but almost fully healed by now. You jump to reassure him, “The doctor said it was a clean cut. Easy to heal. I’m okay.”

Corvus shakes his head again, gently taking your injured hand in his. He holds it to his chest, over his beating hearts as he looks deep into your eyes. The downpour inside of him has yet to quell.

“I hurt you, and I could not bear it,” he restarts, twin hearts pounding in his ribcage. A heavy pause follows as Corvus thinks, wanting to explain himself properly yet lacking the experience to do so. His ear fins twitch up and down as he debates how to continue. Eventually, he sighs, looking around the walls of the bed space. "In fleeing like a coward,” he laments, “I have only hurt you more.”

The sentence causes the tension to snap inside of you like a wire. “I came back here every day looking for you. Every. Single. Day,” you admonish, tears welling in your eyes, “I took care of the plants. I swept out the sand. I even polished everything so I could keep myself busy!” You go on a total tirade about your activities, Corvus’s gaze not once leaving you as he takes the brunt of it all. Falter, your words catch in your throat as tears spill. “...because I was so afraid to lose you that I couldn’t bear to be anywhere else.”

Corvus’s eyes soften with guilt, expression falling. He makes to respond, but you beat him to it.

“But I’m so glad you came back, because I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t.”

The merman’s mouth shuts, and his gaze returns to you. He does not hesitate to pull you close once more, gorgeous charcoal fins blanketing you. You run a hand over the appendage, unable to stop yourself, and Corvus lets out a blissful sigh. “I was afraid, so I fled without thinking of the consequences,” he explains. You do your best to sit back to watch him talk, but Corvus doesn’t allow you much room to move. He continues, “I am already… an anomaly amongst my kind. I was not created to have these sorts of simple domesticities, and I feared what would occur if I overstepped my bounds.” His words leave you with more questions than answers, but you know better than to prod the mer. Anomaly amongst his kind? He had mentioned brothers before his disappearance. You wonder what the others may be like.

Seeking to comfort the giant as he speaks (and partially out of scientific curiosity), you run a hand over his gill covers again. A soft gasp leaves the merman before he catches your hand in his, withdrawing just enough to look down at you. You give him a shy, cheeky smile.

“...as you are now,” he jests, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Sorry,” you say, not even remotely apologetic.

Corvus lets out a soft huff in response, when his eyes focus on the silver chain around your neck. He uses a talented claw to fish the raven pendant from underneath the neckline of your shirt, gazing upon it with the same fondness you had seen just before he fled. Before you can question the look, you’re shocked by the smile he gives you: a genuine grin, eyes crinkled at the outer corners and sharp teeth visible. For the first time, you see that he has fangs, the tips of canines poking into his lower lip.

His eyes flick back up to yours, and his smile softens. Corvus croons, “I must apologize again for what I have taken from you.”

You’re confused by his statement, tilting your head at him. “What do you mean?”

The merman gently tips up your chin with a knuckle, keeping his claws away from the skin of your delicate neck as he leans forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s unpracticed and clumsy, Corvus being so much larger than you, but the cold taste of the sea and ocean minerals has you addicted. A delicate hand cradles your face when you lean into him, and the moment ends all too soon.

“I am here, and I will not be pulling such an imprudent stunt ever again,” Corvus promises as he pulls away.

“Thank you,” you whisper breathlessly, before nestling yourself into the crux of his neck and shoulder.

The tender moment warms you, the shaking in your body finally coming to a stop. Your clothes may be soaked and salty, but the soft bed beneath and gentle embrace of the mer ease you. You let out a soft giggle that catches Corvus’s attention, and when the merman lets out a questioning hum, you remark, “If you ever do that again, I’m getting my boating license and hunting you down myself.”

Corvus hums from above you, knuckles tracing up and down your back. “From what I have learned, I should expect no less.”

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HI PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME FOR THE ENDING OF THE LAST FIC I PROMISED I WOULD FIX THINGS

This took far longer than expected I am so sorry but I hope everyone likes it!!

[Part 6]

#I love hiding references to songs and media within my fics #So many of my ideas stem from songs that illicit emotion in me and I have been loving writing this #if you caught the references I love you #if you didn't i still love you because you got this far #primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #horus heresy #warhammer 40k x reader #wh 40k #corvus corax x reader #corvus corax #mermay #primarch #raven lady writings

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