#Shell Claw wc

[artaintfartwarriors]

Thunderstar/Violet Dawn bebitos

[shallowbreeze]

Shell Claw

Shell Claw is a gray tabby or a bright ginger tom.

This is a gray tabby Shell Claw page

[marmosetpaw]

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

Tiger Tail, Pale Sky, Rumble and Lightning...

Just WHAT are we gonna do with you 4, eh?

Lightning has been fused with Lightning Stripe, she is now pure white aside from a ginger stripe down her back.

Sleek Fur is now the son of Violet Dawn and Rain, and is a mini-me of Violet Dawn. His sibling is Shell Claw, who is now a dark brown tolly, with blue eyes like Rain. They miss their dad.

The other sibling, Feather Ear, is now the only child of Falling Feather and her wife, Aspen Leaf. She is a little tortie!

Lightning Stripe's brother is Rumble Fur. He looks a lot like Acorn Fur, although he has long, tangled fur.

So, Acorn Fur and Thunderstar have Lightning Stripe and Rumble Fur. Falling Feather and Aspen Leaf have Feather Ear. Violet Dawn is now the single mother of Sleek Fur and Shell Claw.

Tiger Tail and Pale Sky are now the children of Sun Shadow and Light Spots. They actually have 3 children! The other child is Shadow Fur, who is the spitting image of his father Sun Shadow aside from being basically blind (he can see light and shadows but that's about it, he isn't 100 percent blind but he ain't exactly getting a drivers license). He becomes Pebble Heart's apprentice because he is also Kitty Autism with a special interest in plants. All 3 are extremely popular in Shadowclan!

Light Spots is a pale brown tabby molly with white patches and green eyes, she has epilepsy and thrives in Shadowclan's nocturnal patrols that Bumble accidentally starts. Tiger Tail is a light brown tom with black stripes on his tail, and green eyes; Pale Sky is now a silver tabby molly with amber eyes, and Shadow Fur is pure black with yellow eyes just like dad.

[rex-rambles]

➤ SOMETHING FISHY (SMAU + FIC)

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: you dress up as a mermaid for your niece's birthday, and end up rescuing a f1 driver that's convinced you're the real thing

wc: 4.3k

warnings: mentions of a minor injury - photos from pinterest

➤ MASTERLIST

Your niece wasn't your niece by blood, but that didn't matter. You had been there for your best friend through pregnancy, through labour, through the late nights when Ruby was just a newborn, and now that she was four? She was your niece in every sense of the word, which meant what Ruby wanted, Ruby got. 

Even if it was you dressing up as a mermaid for her birthday. You had rented the tail from some costume shop near the beach, set yourself up on some rocks near the shore for them to "discover" you as they stormed across the beach, more of a hunt than a party as you watch them. When they get close enough, you happily push yourself up on the rock, waving at them, and they gasp in unison. 

"It's a mermaid!" One of the younger girls says, quite easily believing in the fantasy of it all, and your best friend helps them up the rocks to sit near you, and instantly, there are little hands everywhere, grabbing the tail, the shells woven into your hair, but Ruby? Ruby is perched right in front of you, beaming with her gap teeth. 

"I told you!" She says, clapping her hands together. "A real live mermaid!" Then, she leans in close to whisper, "I know it's you, auntie." 

"Nonsense," You say, gently splashing some water up at her. "I have no idea who this aunt is you speak of. I am a Mermaid, of the Coral Sea." 

"Coral Sea is up North," Your best friend scolds softly. "I think you mean Pacific?" 

You flick water up at her with a grin. "I travelled a long way to get here. Coral Sea." 

"Are you tired?" One of the little boys asks, now intently trying to braid your hair and failing. 

"No, I made sure to get plenty of rest for your big day! I hear a certain someone is turning five!" Ruby happily shows off her birthday sash as your best friend begins to take some pictures. "I asked some of the other mermaids to join me, but they thought it was just too far." 

"Like Ariel?" Another little one asks, as you gently try to guide her away from ripping one of the fins of your tail off. 

"Well, she lives much farther away! More like...Siren-a?" You pull the fake name out of nowhere, but they all seem to accept it as fact, before returning to their questions. 

It was a precious thing, you think, getting to do this for them. They might not believe in mermaids for much longer, but for an afternoon, you get to be a real, live mermaid, taking pictures and reciting facts about fish and shells you memorized this morning. You get to hand out little mermaid-themed gifts, wave to those wandering by who also happen to stumble across a mermaid. It was a perfect afternoon, you think, until the waves picked up. 

"Oh, my." You say as they creep up on the rock, gently spraying the group with the salty water. "Seems like Poseidon is eager for me to get home!" 

"Aw, but Auntie-" Ruby pauses, sparing a glance to the other girls, "But Mer-Auntie, we don't want you to go!" 

"I'm sure you have snacks waiting for you back home! I hear you got a special cake, made of sea sponges!" They all pause to look at you, and you try to put on your best Little Mermaid impression. "Sponge cake? Isn't that sea sponges?" 

"No, silly! It's just cake." The waves pick up again, but this time, a hand appears at the edge of the rock with it, and the girls scream as they stumble away. 

For a moment you're terrified it's not attached to anything, but there's a person hanging off the edge of the rock, obviously washed in with the waves, and you and your best friend quickly grab him and pull him up onto the rock as he coughs up water. He's breathing, considering he's coughing, but he's clawing at his chest to get his life jacket off, which you quickly help remove to get some pressure off his chest. 

"It's Prince Eric!" Ruby shouts, coming to splash in the water next to the poor man. "Like the story!" 

"That's not Prince Eric, sweetheart." Then, gently from below you,

"Ariel?" 

-

Charles wouldn't call himself a gifted surfer, but he'd say he was alright. Good enough to take on the waves of one of Melbourne's beaches before the race weekend. He wasn't alone, either, an instructor and some friends joining him, and for most of the morning, it was fine, in fact, it was better than any of his previous surfing had gone. 

And then the waves picked up. He hadn't expected it, easily overtaking him and forcing him under with the current, and he had thought he was going to drown until he hit up against a rock and desperately tried to claw his way up it against the force of the tides and waves, board lost somewhere in the water below him. 

Spots began to appear in his vision as he almost broke the surface, and quickly, people pulled him from the water, helping him up onto the rock as he gasped for air, choking up the sea water and probably bits of sea weed. His life preserver felt like a weight against him as he tried to get it off, and luckily, someone from his team seemed to understand what he was trying to do and helped him out of it. 

A small voice screamed something near his ear, and opening his eyes, Charles realized rather quickly that it wasn't anyone on his team who saved him, but a mermaid. 

A real live mermaid. He must've hit his head, he thinks, as he blurry blinks up at the figure, peering over him like that scene in the movie. Your hair is woven with shells, top made from something that looks like seaweed and netting, a blue tail to accentuate it all. He lays there, panting heavily as he tries to blink away the vision, before finally coming to terms with the fact that mermaids are real in Australia, or he's died and is hallucinating a mermaid in heaven. 

"Ariel?" He creakily manages to get out, and you gently wipe water away from his face, hitting something high on his forehead that has him seeing stars as he hisses, reeling back and into the rocks and only jostling himself further. 

"SEE!" The tiny voice continues screeching, "HE'S REAL!" 

He's real? Whoever's child got loose ought to be freaking out at the fact that the mermaid currently tending to him is real. It might be the concussion, or the delirium that comes with seeing mermaids, but he can't help but think you're pretty as he manages to open his eyes again. You look blessed by the water, the kind of sight that Charles thinks would make a good siren. He'd follow you into the water, anyway. "Let's give him some space, girls." Another voice says, and very gently, your hand returns to check out his forehead. 

"Can you hear me?" You ask, voice as melodic as he'd expect a mermaid's to be. You shift closer to him, your tail coming to press up against his leg, and it even feels real. "That looks pretty bad." 

"You're real," He breathes out, hand awkwardly reaching out to poke your tail. "This...Australia has mermaids?" 

"No, no." You answer gently. "This is a costume, sweetheart. I'm just dressed up for a party." 

He squints, trying to focus on where your tail meets your waist, and he softly shakes his head. That's something a mermaid would say to try and hide its existence. After all, your tail seems to meet perfectly with your skin, which he most certainly isn't focusing on. "I don't believe you." 

"Oh?" You laugh, sitting back as Charles props himself up. "Must've hit your head harder than I thought." 

"You look so real!" He finds himself saying, hand reaching out to gently pet against one of the little side fins on your tail. "This is...like the Little Mermaid, no?" 

"Well, I did save you from drowning." Your hand comes up to find his forehead again, tilting his head towards you. "But I'm serious about that, you might be concussed." 

Then the panic starts to sink in a little at the tone of your voice. He can handle a scrape or two, but a concussion? He'd be out of the race, and he'd be out of the race for potentially a long time. "I'm sure it's fine," He says, coming up to move your hand away. "It doesn't hurt that bad." 

"Here," That other voice says, and Charles looks up to see another woman, handing you a bag. "There's some first aid supplies in there." 

"It's a real mermaid, right?" Charles asks them, and they just sort of stare at him, like one would at a delusional man. 

"It's for my daughter's birthday party." Then, giving a small pause, "They're actually a werewolf. Werefish. Fish by night, person by day." 

"Enough of that, you two." You say, beckoning Charles forward. You gently wipe over the cut on his forehead and he hisses, hand reaching out to clasp over your tail-knee, and you hum gently. Werefish - you both were mocking him. He had made the discovery of a lifetime, and you were mocking him. "Easy there, Prince Eric. I need to clean this." 

"Charles," He says finally, "My name is Charles." 

You wipe over the cut again and then apply a bandage, offering a smile that makes Charles's heart do things, and he's pretty sure it's not the seawater he ingested, or the potential concussion. "Well, Charles. That's the best I can do, for the time being." 

"Is the Prince okay?" The tiny voice returns, and Charles turns to see a young girl with a birthday sash slung over her shoulder peering up at him. 

It was a child's birthday party, and his subpar surfing skills crashed it. 

Literally. "Yes," Charles answers. "Sorry for interrupting your party." 

"It's okay," She says, gesturing to you. "We were waiting for her prince anyway. Now you can kiss!" 

"Ruby!" You say with a small laugh. "Prince Charles here just got hurt!" 

"And you can kiss it better," Ruby states firmly. "Mermaid magic." 

Then, there's a little swarm of girls behind Ruby, all looking at you and Charles intently. "I'm sorry about them," The woman says quickly. "It's sort of a mob mentality." 

"I can only kiss it better if the prince gives me permission." You say, crossing your arms over your chest, and making Charles's eyes widen. He has to give permission? For you to kiss him? He would say it's the other way around, considering you're a majestic mermaid, and he's a drowning man you just pulled from the water. 

"Go on!" Ruby says, glaring at him. "Let her make it better." 

"I-of course." He rushes out, tilting his head down. "Anything to stop the pain." 

Then, to his shock, you lean over and gently press a kiss to his forehead, and the tiny crowd erupts in cheers as heat flushes from Charles's cheeks to his ears. "Now, you all have to let Prince Charles go to get actual medical help." 

"I'll take them back to the car." The other woman says, quickly herding them away as Charles wobbly stands. 

"Sorry about that," You say up at him, and he has to remind himself that you can't stand. Tail, and all. Maybe he'll have to carry you out here, and he'll get to be the hero in reverse. Maybe, he thinks before he can stop himself, he'll get another kiss for helping. "If that was uncomfortable, or you felt forced, but-" 

"No, no!" Charles says, sounding far too eager. "It's not every day you get the chance to kiss a mermaid. I should make it up to you, and your niece, for crashing the party and all. Dinner?" 

Then, because today is truly full of surprises, you slip your phone from the bag and unlock it before handing it to him. A mermaid with a phone. Part of him thinks you'd use a shell.

Part of him thinks he might be genuinely losing his mind, and his team should come and rescue him soon. "Dinner sounds lovely, Prince Charles." 

"Will you wear the tail?" He asks over the phone as he types in his number. 

"Unless it's a swim up bar? No." 

-

f1gossip Something fishy is going on! Charles Leclerc suffered a nasty fall while surfing in Melbourne this week, only to be saved by a mermaid! the unnamed sea creature was seen tending to Charles's wounds on the rocks before returning to his crew. (We don't really know either.)

↳ carcarcar ...what timeline did we enter for Charles to be saved by a MERMAID?

↳ forza-ferrawri hopefully a timeline where Ferrari can win

↳ brocedes never letting go of the disney prince allegations 

↳ fan44 f1gossip, I think it's time for a nap...or a reality check

-

"Okay, okay-" Pierre wheezes out, barely managing to block the pillow Charles tosses at him. "Okay! Let me get this straight: you wiped out and got saved by a mermaid? With-with the tail?" Then, when Charles can't bring himself to answer, "And you believed it!" 

"You'd believe it too!" It had been a few days since you'd rescued Charles, and he was sort of still losing his mind. His team had given him a clean bill of health, no concussion, safe to race, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. It had been real, your texts to him had proven. You were dressed up for your niece's birthday but deep down in Charles's heart, a young part of him still wanted to believe that you were an actual mermaid, if only to help his bruised ego. "It was either a real mermaid or I was hallucinating." 

"You never thought it could be a costume?" When you'd just been dragged underwater and smashed against a rock?

No, a costume did not cross Charles's mind. "It looked so real! Even the tail!" 

Max appears in their little rest station, Red Bull in hand like it always is, offering a matching, shit-eating grin as Pierre's, and without having to say anything, Charles throws a pillow at him too. They wouldn't understand! He wasn't just being an idiot, or delusional, you had been so ethereal, so beautiful, you had to be magical. Magic was the only way to explain why you'd say yes to dinner with him. Magic was the only reason any of this could have happened at all. "So," Max finally says, coming to sit beside Pierre, "You were saved by a mermaid, who helped bandage you up, and who you then asked out to dinner?" 

"They also kissed it better." Charles admits quietly, and both Pierre and Max blinked at him before finally speaking again.

"You're fucked." Charles throws another pillow, now out of them on his couch, and Max catches it and launches it back, and Charles can't block it in time. It hits against his head and he hisses, gently rubbing at where you'd applied the bandage, and all Charles can think is that you technically already had your first kiss together.

He wasn't like this, with people, with dating. He didn't randomly give out his number, most certainly now that he was a driver. It had to be magic, for you to have won him over so easily, or maybe it was his injured mental state. All Charles knew is that he was, in fact, fucked, and there was nothing he could do but see it through.

"This can't be real!" Pierre says, shaking his head. 

"They are too real." Charles snaps back, already pulling his phone out to show off your Instagram. He didn't do that normally, either, stalk social media accounts, but he needed to see if you worked as a professional mermaid or something, or if you were hiding a secret mermaid identity. 

"Who, the person or the mermaid?" Max teases, and Charles pauses to stare at a new post, underwater shot of you and your tail and all, and Charles just sort of stares at his phone until Pierre and Max come over to join him. 

"Oh." Pierre says, reaching over to zoom in on the photo of you with a tail. "That does look real." 

Vindication, Charles thinks, has never looked so good. 

-

Liked by yourbestie, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername we take playing mermaids very seriously in this house

↳ yourbestie the best aunt/mermaid in the world 

↳ yourusername anything for my baby 🥰

↳ charles_leclerc how can you tell me you're not a real mermaid? look at the second photo!

↳ yourusername maybe you hit your head harder on that rock than we thought...

↳ charles_leclerc this is a conspiracy against me.

↳ f1_fanatic CHARLES???

↳ mclar_win they really weren't kidding that he was saved by a mermaid

-

It was just supposed to be dinner.

You weren't crazy, after all. Most of the world thinks you are, considering pictures have ended up everywhere of you and Charles, apparently an F1 driver, with you in a mermaid tail, but you were not crazy. You didn't just randomly accept guy's numbers, especially those you're pretty sure are concussed, but there was just something about Charles that made every little crazy thing seem normal. 

Because it wasn't just dinner, it was an incredible, five star experience that turned into drinks the next day. 

And it wasn't just drinks, it was laughing and bonding and skipping what felt like a 100 first dates and just going straight into getting to know each other. He'd told you about his race, and you'd watched it, and you told him how happy you were for him, and he didn't understand. He'd placed eighth, injured and all! He didn't seem thrilled with the number, but to you? You'd save his life, and then he'd gotten eighth in a grand prix. 

You deserved part of his points, you'd joked, and he told you he'd send every trophy he got your way. 

That's how you ended up on a boat that he'd rented, alone off the coast. Your best friend said you'd be crazy to turn him down, but now, you're starting to wonder if you're crazy for seeing this through. It wasn't supposed to be like this, but there was something about Charles that just sort of made you see it through. 

"I'm still not convinced," Charles says from where he's sprawled on a beach towel. "I think this is all a disguise." 

Even if he was still pretty caught up on the mermaid thing. "What? My legs?" You say, rolling onto your side to squint down at him

"Mermaid magic," Charles answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world, hand coming up to play with your drying hair. You'd spent a better part of the morning in the water, spending Charles's last day in Australia together, and something unspoken was stuck between you. The way you feel isn't just some fling, but you'd only known him for three days. You wouldn't blame him for moving on and forgetting about you, and all this mermaid stuff. "You don't want the world to know mermaids are real, so you're hiding it from me." 

You laugh, falling back down onto your towel, and Charles shoots up onto his elbows to offer a soft glare. "Oh, you're serious?" 

"It looked so real! This-" He pokes at your leg a few times, before his hand flattens out to smooth against your thigh, and your faces heat up in tandem. "This isn't right," Charles says finally, giving your leg a small squeeze. "Where's the fins? The shells?" 

"Do you have a thing for mermaids?" You tease, and Charles rips his hand off your leg, cheeks turning a rather nice shade of pink.

"All I'm saying is you make a very beautiful, believable mermaid, and that your secret is safe with me." A beautiful, believable mermaid. You can't immediately think of anything to say after that, stuck replaying those four words on a loop. He doesn't move to lay back down, just perched at your side, and you reach over to grab his ankle.

You'd have to address it eventually, you think. Until then, however, you'll play along, even if it's starting to grow old. "I should get my shark friends to eat you." 

"See! Proof." Charles says before rising to his feet, and he smugly crosses his arms over his chest as he peers down at you. "You're terrible at hiding your secret identity." 

"At what point do I get concerned that you think I'm a mermaid?" And, instead of answering you, Charles bends down to pick you up, an arm easily slotting under your back and under your knees to haul you up. You gasp, quick to wrap your arms around him, and pressed this close, you think he really might be a prince. 

He's wealthy enough to be, surely, but it was just the way he looked, but more specifically, the way he looked at you. You couldn't find anything particularly poetic to say about his eyes, or his hair, or that damning smile, but when Charles looked at you, it didn't matter whatever else was going on. 

You just wanted him to keep looking. "Well, I suppose there's one way to test if you are a mermaid or not." 

Then, with little grace, Charles throws you overboard.

You gasp as you hit the water, sputtering as you breach the surface, and Charles squints down at your legs pedalling in the water. You splash water up at him as he laughs, and you wouldn't take back any of the things you'd said about him, but you would add that you were getting annoyed at his antics, and fast. "Charles!" You admonish, "I'm not going to grow a tail!" 

"You can forgive a man for trying, no?" You swim back to the boat, trying to get up the ladder. "Oh come on, ma perle. Your secret is safe with me." 

"Help me up," You say, and as Charles takes your hand, you get a wonderful, terrible idea. 

You let go of the ladder, falling backward and pulling Charles with you, and he screeches as he hits the water, payback for all the ridiculous things you've put up with so far. If it were anyone else, you think, all this mermaid business would have grown old fast, but with Charles's charm, it's hard to hate it, especially when he's wrapping his arms around you again. "You," He says as his hands find your waist, and your arms wrap around his neck, "Are mean." 

"Payback." You answer happily, and Charles's eyes dip from yours to drag down to your mouth, and suddenly, the chill of the water is gone and replaced by the heat of being pressed so close to him. 

It was barely a week, you try to remind yourself. You'd only gone to dinner, and drinks, and out this afternoon, but something about it felt enticing in a way you'd never felt before. It had never felt like he was a stranger, considering he let you kiss his forehead for your niece, or the way he talked like he'd known you his whole life. 

Maybe you were the one losing it, considering all the things that meant this didn't work out in the end. He was a famous driver who lived in Monaco, nowhere near you or Australia, but it's hard to think of excuses not to kiss a man when he's currently leaning in. You meet him halfway, a clumsy thing as you try to stay afloat in the water, but it's right, like you were always meant to be pressed close to Charles like this, like this was your hundredth kiss, and not your first. Charles deepens it, hand coming up to cradle your cheek before he seems to forget that he needs to keep himself afloat and he slips underwater, breaking the moment. "Maybe you're a siren," He says as he re-emerges, shaking out his hair and spraying you with it. "Trying to drown me." 

"Maybe I am." You tease in response, and Charles feigns a gasp. 

"Proof! Again!" Then, with a grin, his hands find your waist again and he pulls you against him. "You know, you shouldn't be out here, terrorizing Melbourne's beaches." 

"Oh really?" Charles nods enthusiastically. 

"Mhm," He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. "I happen to know a prince, in Monaco, who could use the company instead." 

-

f1gossip Shapeshifter or Siren? After being saved by a mermaid, Charles Leclerc was spotted getting cozy with a certain someone in the water after his race...without a tail!

↳ fan16 why am I lowkey disappointed they aren't an actual mermaid

↳ brocedes after Ferrari's race this weekend?? man probably is trying to drown himself

↳ forza-ferrawri he already tried it with the water in his seat 

↳ totallynotyourbestie can we just appreciate how cute they are??

↳ mclar_win Charles dating an Australian Mermaid? Checks out

-

-

-

Liked by yourbestie, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername he keeps pushing me into the water to see if I'll grow a tail

↳ charles_leclerc it might work, ma perle

↳ yourusername you're lucky you're cute

↳ fan16 my pearl 😭 even her nickname is mermaid themed

↳ yourbestie @/charles_leclerc i hear mermaids like the waters better in monaco...just saying

↳ charles_leclerc tickets are already booked

-

Liked by yourbestie, yourusername and others

charles_leclerc might not have any pictures of mermaids, but plenty of us

↳ yourusername you're never letting this go, are you?

↳ charles_leclerc no

↳ pierregasly no      

↳ yourbestie no 🥰

↳ brocedes the meet cute to end all meet cutes

↳ forza-ferrawri literally a fairytale

a/n: i need to be on a beach. right now. that is where this came from

[pork-pop]

DON’T MAKE ME BEG FOR YOU!

✧ the girl of his dreams is throwing him a bone…is he feigning nonchalance or acting a fool?!

contains: gojo, geto, nanami || cw: p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f. receiving), like a hint of hair pulling for suguru, mentions of masturbation || wc: 1.7k~

✧ a/n: i am half asleep right now if there’s a typo just come to my home and take me out before i wake up! cheers. srry nanami’s ended up kinda shorter than the others oopsie daisy.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!

SATORU GOJO

acting a fool is an understatement

Satoru is terrible at the art of subtlety, and to most, making one’s intentions blatantly clear to the person they’re interested in might seem mortifying. But that’s been Satoru’s goal since the start. Those lingering touches, the flirtatious glances and suggestive comments were all done in stride, after all, he takes pride in the fact that he’s getting what he wants. You, however, have been the hardest shell to crack. So, naturally, he’s utterly whipped. 

He can hardly believe his luck when you choose to reciprocate after months of cat and mouse, and he has no choice but to lay out all of his chips and double down. 

For someone who was raised to be a gentleman, he sure does know how to get your clothes on the floor without any manners at all. As soon as you’re blessing him, deepening the kiss, his wandering hands are tugging at your blouse for permission to show you how much he’ll work for it. 

“Isn’t this a treat?” He pants humorously between thrusts, fucking into you like he’ll know he’ll find the answers to all of his intrusive questions regarding you if he just gets an inch or two deeper. Satoru hisses as you tighten around him, “You gonna keep talking or are you gonna fuck me harder?” you snicker. And you should know that there’s nothing Satoru loves more than a good challenge; getting you like this wasn’t the challenge he’d most anticipated, no, it was making you crave it just as much as he did. 

“Is that an invitation?” He asks, a big grin twisting at the corners of his lips while he inches a hand down to thumb teasingly at your clit, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you saying that for a while now, don’t you?” In spite of his stamina, Satoru’s breath is ragged and shaky, could it be that he was even a bit…nervous? You didn’t have the time to put much thought into it before his hips speed up, knocking every one of those pretty suspicions out of your head for the time being. Your eyes roll back and you swear you can hear a triumphant little huff of a laugh from him as he takes that as inspiration to roughen the circles he’s drawing against your clit. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like when you cum, too,” he admits without a shred of shame, nosing into the tender column of your throat so you can hear him better, “Can I hear?” “Fuck!” Is all you can manage through a strangled cry, clawing at the shifting muscles of his back in a futile attempt to ground yourself. “C’mon, I can tell you’re getting close,” he rasps madly, “I wanna hear you.” He begs, suddenly licking a greedy stripe along the dampened skin of your neck. 

And who are you to deny him? You cry out a declaration of your sudden orgasm, features squeezed and mouth parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Satoru stares at you with widened eyes, and a stuttered breath, “Hah-...” He hadn’t even realized how close he’d been getting to spilling inside you, but welcomed the overwhelming feeling with open arms. He could go for five more rounds if you’d let him, anyways. 

God, this must be what it’s like to hit the jackpot. 

SUGURU GETO

nonchalant (acting a fool)

Suguru can’t lie to himself and pretend like he hadn’t imagined this scenario too many times to count before, usually as a desperate last resort when he’d found he can’t imagine getting off to anything other than the thought of you at a certain point. He’s sure that he’s a better man than this, and he’d certainly tried to be courteous and discrete about the way you make him feel, shying away from the line he’s been dreaming to cross. 

But now, sitting up on the mattress and unable to tear his eyes away from your tits, he realizes that he’d been overshooting the strength of his own resolve. Suguru surges forward, taking one in his mouth as he guides you up and down his length, doing anything he can to prove he’s still being normal about this. Fuck it. 

“Fuck,”  he moans against your chest, “wait a minute-...” You still your movements, tilting your head curiously at him as he swallows breathlessly, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” He quickly reassures with a shake of his head, gently squeezing at your hips to punctuate the promise, “God, nothing’s wrong at all, I just need-...let me eat you out. Please?” You blink at him in surprise, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Huh?” 

“Seriously, I-...” He shakes his head, gazing up at you like you’re the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, “it’s all I’ve been thinking about.” 

During those moments in the past in which he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you, he only ever found himself relishing in the idea of burying himself between your legs and making careful sure that the only thing you’d be capable of saying was his name. The both of you had been too hasty in the wake of realizing your feelings were reciprocated, too desperate to give each other everything you’d been dreaming of. It feels like the heavens have opened up before him as you slip off of his lap, letting him situate you against the pillows. 

Suguru’s methodic in the way he trails warm kisses down your body, stopping to suck a mark into your hip, but he can’t tease for too long, not when he probably wants to get you off on his tongue more than you want it (which is saying a lot). 

He kisses your bare cunt gratefully, before dragging his tongue against your entrance, eyelids already going heavy as he slips into a euphoric trance. Suguru tries his very hardest to keen on every noise you make, every cry of his name, but it’s hard to do that when he’s getting so drunk off the flavor of you. He’s suddenly starved, devouring you completely, too far gone to be embarrassed of the way he shakes his head against your pussy or moans just as loud as you do. 

Geto’s suspicions had been utterly correct. While he’s been eager to have you like he did moments before, to feel you wrap around him and to fuck up into you with calculated thrusts, this definitely takes the cake. He grows dizzy off your scent, grinding against the mattress to prevent himself from further losing his mind over the prospect of what he’s doing right now. 

You lace your hands through his hair, pulling at it as he brings you closer to the edge. This is all he needs, he thinks, he can easily be fine spending the rest of his life like this. Suguru wants to prove that much over and over again to you, and he won’t hesitate if you’ll let him. “You’re perfect.” He mumbles against your cunt, and he’s partially glad you’re too far gone to hear some of the pathetic remarks he’s uttering, “Need this so bad.”

Yeah, good luck hopping back on his dick anytime soon now that he knows he was right about how addicting you’d be. 

KENTO NANAMI

nonchalant by a thread

It’s easy for Kento to have steel-grade self control when you’re fully clothed and the conversation is tame. But when clothes are taken out of the equation, well, that’s a different story. That being said, he won’t forget his manners. 

You’re in a tender mating press, smiling softly at the sweet kisses Nanami keeps peppering across your face, and occasionally one to your lips. He briefly wonders why he ever thought it was a good idea to hesitate in taking the initiative to have you laid out against his pillows like this, moaning his name almost as if you knew how much that chipped away at his own self-preservation. You’re dangerously close to getting him to embarrass himself. 

“Do you like this?” He breathes against the shell of your ear as his pace speeds up a bit, knocking the wind out of you. Regardless, you nod, hardly able to wrap your lips around anything other than the shape of his name. Kento bites his lip, fighting the urge to go even faster. This was your first time together, after all, he’d be mad not to cherish it like something fleeting and sacred. He wants more, he wants this all the time, and he’s so close to begging you for it. In some last attempt of self-preservation, he utters, “You feel amazing,” almost choking on his breath after the fact. 

“Fuck, keep doing that.” You cry out, throwing your head back to give him a clear view of your throat that he so desperately wishes to mark up. He almost asked what you meant, before he peers down, realizing he’d mindlessly begun rubbing circles into your clit. Kento feels like he’s getting ahead of himself, yet not doing enough at the same time; this feeling is so foreign and overwhelming, but he’s falling in love with it. 

Following your orders, he continues his steady pace on your clit, mouth going dry as you tell him how close you are. Yes, please, that’s all I want to hear. 

“Please,” he murmurs in a gravelly voice, not realizing he’d started voicing his own thoughts, “cum for me.” Nanami is certain he’s going to lose control any moment, and he’s sure that you cumming around his cock is not going to help him at all in his hope to still be a gentleman to you. It’s alright, though, he thinks. If he’s going to embarrass himself, lose all resolve and allow himself to drown in this simple pleasure, Kento doesn’t think he’d want to do it with anyone else but you.

[gojodickbig]

tattoo artist!suguru x f!reader.

conts: smut!!!!

wc: 2,4k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!

“look at you,” suguru growled, his tone low and dripping with lust. his hips slammed into you, each thrust forcing a gasp from your lips as he bent you over the workstation in the back of his studio. “already so fucking wet for me, squeezing me like you don’t want me to stop.”

“i don’t,” you whimpered, your voice breaking into a moan as he drove deeper, harder, every inch of him stretching you in ways that left your mind spinning.

“yeah?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as one hand gripped your hip, holding you steady, while the other slid between your thighs. his fingers were rough but skilled, sliding over your slick folds before circling your clit with deliberate pressure. “say it, baby. tell me how much you love the way i’m fucking you.”

“god, suguru,” you cried, your nails clawing at the surface of the table, trying to keep yourself grounded. “you feel so good—so fucking good, i can’t—”

“you can,” he cut you off, his voice a dangerous growl. “and you will. you’re gonna take every inch of me, aren’t you, princess?”

“yes,” you gasped, your thighs trembling as he thrust harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. “yes, I’ll take it. fuck, i’ll take all of it—”

“good fucking girl,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he angled your hips higher, the motion driving him deeper. “been waiting to do this since you walked in here weeks ago.”

his words sliced through the fog of pleasure in your mind.

“that first day,” he continued, his voice rough and low, “you came in here all innocent, sitting in my chair, letting me touch you so deliberately while i worked on your tattoo.” he thrust hard for emphasis, making you cry out, the sound echoing through the small studio. “all i could think about was bending you over this table and fucking you until you couldn’t walk straight. i couldn’t get the image out of my fucking head.” his voice lowered, becoming more husky, the memory turning him on even more. “bet you would’ve let me fuck you right then, huh?”

his confession made your walls clench tight around him, and he groaned, his voice low and thick with approval.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he rasped, his hips slamming into you at a punishing pace. “so tight. like you were made for me.” his hand slid up your back, pressing you harder into the table as he kept talking, the filth in his voice making your head spin.

“this is what i wanted,” he growled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “to spread you out on my workstation and fuck you until you’re screaming for me. until you’re dripping down my cock and begging me for more.”

“oh my god, suguru,” you gasped, your words tumbling out between desperate cries. “more! i need more, please!”

“more, huh?” he chuckled darkly, pulling out and slamming back in, his cock thrusting deep and deliberate. “you want more of me? want me to fuck you harder?”

“yes! yes, please!” your words were barely coherent as his pace quickened. “you feel s—so good inside me!”

“that’s it,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “let everyone fucking hear you then. let them know how good i’m making you feel.”

the sound of your moans echoed through the room, mixing with the sharp slap of his hips against yours. his fingers found your clit again, circling it faster, more deliberately, as his cock dragged over every sensitive spot inside you.

“you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he groaned. “so fucking wet, so tight. i could stay buried in you all night.”

“feel — feel you everywhere, sugu,” your voice trembling as the pressure in your core built higher and higher. “s —agh! so deep! don’t stop! it fee—ah! feels so fucking gooood!” you moaned, your back arching as you instinctively pushed back against him.

“don’t worry, pretty girl,” he murmured darkly. “i’m not stopping until i make you come all over my cock.”

his thumb pressed even more harder against your clit, his pace relentless as his other hand tightened its grip on your hip. you were trembling now, your body arching into his as you teetered on the edge of release.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice rough. “i can feel it. your pretty pussy’s so tight around me—so fucking desperate to let go. come on, baby, give it to me. show me how good I’m making you feel.”

“i’m—fuck, i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he commanded, his voice sharp and thick with need. “cum for me, princess. let. me. feel. you.”

you shattered beneath him, your body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you. your cry filled the room, your walls clenching around him so tightly it dragged a guttural groan from his chest.

“good fucking girl,” he breathed, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own high. with a low, raw moan, he thrust deep one last time, spilling into you, the heat of him making you shudder again.

for a long moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. geto pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

“you look good like this,” he murmured, his tone smug as his fingers traced the design of the tattoo still visible on your hip. “might have to ink you up again, just so i have an excuse to keep you coming back.”

you let out a breathless laugh, too dazed to muster a retort. but as his lips curled into a wicked grin against your skin, you realized you didn’t mind the idea one bit.

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[opt1mistic]

itoshi sae x reader. cw. smut, nsfw, fingering(r!receiving), edging, orgasm denial, heavily implied sadistic sae, afab!reader but it should be gn. wc. 1.0k

“be patient.” saes voice is deep, stern, and quiet against the shell of your ear. his long stealthy finger is circling your clit, toying with it like it’s some button.

“sae…” you’re voice is between a weep and a moan. “i can’t take it anymore..” you whimper as he puts pressure on the bud.

“what? is it too much for you?”

all you do is nod and let out a ‘mhm’, but his finger isn’t letting up. you can’t stay still anymore, you’re squirming around is his lap, as to get away from his grasp, to be let free of this torture that feels all too good.

“don’t run from it.”

his voice is lower now, closer, like its dripping right into your bloodstream. one arm wraps around your waist, holding you down in his lap, keeping you from squirming away. “you said you wanted this, didn’t you?”

you nod again—barely—but it’s not enough for him. his finger stops is abuse on your clit entirely. just rests there, still warm and maddening between your legs.

“use your words.”

you blink through the haze, frustration bubbling under your ribs. “i-i do,” you stutter. “i want it..”

his lips graze your temple. “then be good and stay still for me.”

when his finger starts moving again, it’s agonizingly slow—circling, pressing, just enough to make your toes curl but never enough to send you over the edge. and every time your hips jerk, he pulls away, just until you stop, and then he continues.

“not yet,” sae mutters. “you don’t get to cum until i say so.”

you whine, helpless. his finger dips down, slides through your wetness, and then adding two into your cunt, then come back up to barely tap your clit—over and over again, like this is some game; it is for him, sae gets off on your frustration, your sincere craving to cum. your thighs tremble. your stomach tightens. and just when you’re at your brink yet again, sae pulls his digits out of you.

“whats wrong?” his voice is deadpan, but you can hear the cruelty behind it. how much hes getting a kick out of this. “you want more?”

“yes,” you breath out. “please, sae, i need it—“

his mouth curves into a smirk against your neck as he litters it will bites. “mm. not yet.”

you’ve lost count of how many times he’s brought you to the edge just to rip it away. your body is trembling, thighs slick and sore from how hard you’ve tried to clamp them shut—tried to hold yourself together. but sae doesn’t stop. he won’t stop until he’s had his fun with you.

“poor thing,” he hums. “your shaking.”

his fingers slip back inside you, slow and wet. your stomach tightens, and cry out, hips twitching as he curls them again the gummy sweet spot deep within you.

you hiccup, barely able to breathe, “please, i— i c-can’t…”

“yes, you can,” he says, voice sharp but quiet. “you will.”

his thumb finds your clit again and starts moving in soft, lazy circles—too gentle, too slow.

your hands claw at his pants, your breath catching in sobs that don’t quite sound like pain. you’re close. again. and you know it won’t last. he’s going to stop. like he did the other times.

but this time…he doesn’t.

his fingers pick up just a little speed, enough to make your hips stutter. enough to make your breath catching in a moan and your back arch against him.

you cling to him, a wreck now—barely holding it together. his finger pump you full, and your pussy clench’s. walls fluttering around the thickness of two of seas fingers.

“please,” you whisper. “please let me…”

he exhales against your neck. “you want to cum?”

a desperate nod. “yes. yes—”

“then do it,” he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. “cum for me.”

you don’t even have time to reply—your body breaks, unraveling in his lap, heat flooding through you so fast it burns. your head drops back against his shoulder, mouth parted in a silent cry as your orgasm crashes over you, drawn out and messy.

he doesn’t stop. not right away.

he works you through it, through the aftershocks, through the twitching and the gasps and the way your thighs won’t stop shaking.

only when you’re whimpering does he slow down, pulling his fingers out, and hold you close against his chest.

“i told you,” he says, breath warm. “you just had to be patient.”

[herfinestblog]

RIDE THAT DICK LIKE A HORSEY !?

𐚁̸ choso, toji, nanami, gojo, geto.

wc:2.6k+

𐚁̸ viewers discretion. sexual content , riding/ cowgirl , reverse cowgirl , slapping , dirty talk , praising , degradation , breeding kink , squirting , nipple play , edging , true form! sukuna , sub choso.

SATORU GOJO

“fuck. keep moving your hips like that.” satoru moaned his eyes rolling back and jaw hung open each time you clench around him. you’re nails digging into his shoulders each time you bounced dirty on his cock. he’s letting out heavy breaths his big hands that rested on your hips grip tightened. his white hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead, cheeks becoming red and chest rising and falling.

your slick coating him perfectly, dripping down his cock and creating a mess.“come on baby just hold it a little longer.” satoru grabbed your breast rolling your buds between his finger before clamping his pink lips around them and starting to suck holding them in his rough palms. his tongue flicking your sensitive buds making you whimper.

“satoru,” your whimpered and whined as you rode him. his cock pulsating inside of you he can feel you slow down fingers digging into his shoulder.

“k-keep going baby, need you to help me come.” his waist twitched your ass dropping down and grinding down on him each time and riding back up to the tip. you’d cry out when satoru jolts underneath you like an inexperienced boy. his big hands rest under the curve of your ass fondling with the flesh and dragging you down on his cock. you weakly grind against his cock

“you’re doing so good, princess.”

rising and dropping your ass, your sticky skin colliding onto his thighs. both are you are painting as you quicken your movements, fucking him quicker than before. he’s grunting by your ear kissing and sucking on your neck. your brain starts to spiral as you’re taking in every thick inch of his fat cock.

satoru legs start to twitch whining as he grows closer to his release clenching his jaw. you’re watching his fucked out face babbling about how good your fucking him as you drop your ass down harder. his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he desperately whines from you suffocating his cock.

“fuck my cock, baby.”

satoru rocking his waist, both of you of you panting heavily. his hands on your ass clench harder pushing your hips back on him your thrust getting sloppy you buried your face between his neck and rode him. tears crystallized your eyes babbling uncontrollably.

your knees buckle as you cum around him feeling your body go limp as you fall on top of him drooling on his chest. his bucking up into you using the last bit of strength he has to reach his release. his lips grazing the shell of your ear, grunting by your ear.

“fuckkk, i love you, i fucking love you.”he throws his head back as he cums inside you coating your walls with thick spurts of white his legs trembling from the intensity. satoru holding you close to him as you went limp in his arms.

“you did so good for me baby.” satoru kisses your forehead.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

you can never get over how big toji is. you're still struggling to take his size, never dealing with anyone before with a size as big as his.

"you can take it, pretty girl." toji chuckles scar on his mouth forms into a smirk as you slowly sink onto the pink tip. both hands lay flat on his stomach you claw at his stomach as you accommodate his size. you're already moaning and he's only halfway in. he lands a few spanks on your ass causing you to pout. toji grasped both sides of your hips to sink you entirely on his thick cock—the perfect amount of thickness to ruin you.

"how's it feel?" toji taunts, he squeezes down on your tummy watching how his bulge moves in and out of you. your moaning and clenching around him he growls by your ear when you drop down on his cock. each vein molding your walls that ran down the sides of his cock. continuing to roll your hips and grunting by your ear each time you drop your ass down.

he’s grunting by your ear and swatting your ass toji isn’t too fond of your quietness. "answer me, girl.”

"you feel so m’good." you sniffed your skin roughly colliding together, rippling from each thrust as you dropped down on his bulky thighs. the friction of your clit occasionally brushing against his dark pubes making you moan. your thirst is slowing down and becomes sloppy eventually from the ache in your thighs lazily rocking your hips back and forth. you let out quite gasps grinding down and bucking your hips, toji gives you a sly grin at the pout that falls on your lips.

"need help?" toji green eyes lock in with yours, eyebrows perched up watching you pathetically nod your head eyes filled with need.

“yes—pretty please?”

"tsk. thought you said you could take me, doll. pathetic.”toji chuckled as he kissed your neck and left hickeys—his arms snaking around your waist pulling you closer to his chest unexpectedly bucking his up into you. hitting that spot that made you clench around him snickering when you whined as he snapped his hips, you were so sensitive, your pussy becoming swollen and puffy.

"fuckk toji, i’m close !”

you're turning into a moaning mess on his cock, he pumped you full of his cock. you start to move your hips meeting his thirst, turning into a mess on his cock. your sweet moans and whimpers filling his ears your breathing becoming heavy. “cum on me, baby, go ahead and give it to me.” his eyes were all low and half lidded. toji pecks your lips shoving his tongue into your mouth as you’re moaning into the kiss. toji's arms tightening around your waist felt you tightly clench around him. “such a messy fuckin’ girl.”

your eyes scroll back— you're shaking and creating a mess around his cock the intensity of your orgasm washing over you hard as your body spasms your cum dripping down your thighs making you stutter. making sure you felt every single inch of his swollen cock.

you're lying limp in his arms and letting our weak moans as toji buck into you. he grunts his abs growing tense until his very own release, splattering your walls with his cum. 

KENTO NANAMI

kento loves when you ride him in the morning after you both wake up. he loves watching a pretty girl like you—his wife take control of his cock using it for your own pleasure. teasingly kissing your neck and groping your body.

you steady your hips, aligning yourself with his timid cock beads of precum rolling down his shaft. dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, as you practically drooled on him "slow—go slow, sweetheart, wouldn't want you hurting yourself." his voice slow and smooth kento lets you take your time, he coos, he's laying back caressing your cheek with his thumb watching you sinking down on his cock.

he watched the expression you make when the stretch of his cock brings tears to your eyes your lips forming a cute 'o'. the mean curve of his cock that plunges into you splitting you open. kento kisses your temple, keeping you close he's guiding your hips down on his cock in,you clenched around him swallowing his cock whole.

"kento," you choke up sobs tears you're lifting your hips letting out choked up cries.

"move your hips," letting out a low groan in his throat, throbbing tip nudged at that sweet spot inside you pathetically whining his name. kento rested his hands on your hips digging into your hips when you clenched around him. his blonde locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. "fuck just like that," he smirks watching you getting closer to your orgasm, with seductive eyes. his grip on your hips firm as he moves you motioning your hips in a circular motion.

"okay. ." you whispered you start to move again gyrate your hips and quickening your pace. kento looked at you with love in his eyes, watching your body move with ease with each drop of your hips. he swear he's going to lose it he cursed under his breath, jaw slacking and slipping out a few quite whimpers.

"let me see your face, baby. . . i need to see your face. please " his deep voice ringing in your ear. you're trying to keep your eyes from rolling back. kento loves to watch the cute expressions you make as you fucked yourself dumb on his cock. you place move moaning into his chest you mewl when he spanks you, his hand clasping around your neck pulling your face up eyes with your glossy ones with tears that threaten to spill from the stretch.

"god, baby— you’re killing me,” he chuckles he grabs your hand intertwining his fingers with yours. your hips rolling and grinding your hips on him made kento lose himself. “don’t stop.” you’re slamming yourself down his tip kissing your cervix and your walls clamping against him. a white ring that starts to stick against your skin with each thrust.

“keep lookin’ at me, just like that, my love.” his eyes meet yours as your rutting your hips against him, the repetitive moment made his eyes roll back. “don’t stop.” he’s gripping onto you so tightly he’s shoving you down on his cock and nibbling at your collarbone.

once you feel that too familiar feeling you’re cumming hard on his cock after one last bounce your legs shook vigorously. your sticky cum trickling down his cock made his cock twitches still buried inside of you, holding you close to his body and embracing your warmth.

“o-one more time?”

CHOSO KAMO

"not being fair, baby," choso's eyes rolled back and whined as you edged him rocking your hips slowly. it was torture how much you were teasing him practically cock warming him. the soft roll of you hips weren't enough for his sensitive cock—he needed you to move. god, was his cock sensitive and your walls gripped him tightly weren't helping. he's staring at your face, you're giving him a coquettish grin, "you have to be patient 'cho"

he led out a mere whine from those words passing through your lips. you teasing him like this made his breath hitch. "fuck me baby," choso breathed out chocking up moans, "please?" he's looking at you with low, pleading eyes. you pecked the corner of his mouth, moving to his sharp jawline peppering kisses.

you wrapped your hands around his neck slightly choking him as he let out a soft moan. you stir your hips and grind down on his cock tossing your head back. "hm? you that, baby?”" cockiness dripping from your tongue, you moved his fallen hair away from his face getting a better view of his blush encased face.

you giggled amusingly continuously to tease the poor boy. " baby, please, i need you." you grinding and stuttering your hips down made his cock twitch.

"want me to make you cum, right cho'?"

"yes—" he lets out another moan once you lift your hips bouncing effortlessly on his cock. your soppy walls clamping down on him. "fuck, keep going. You're clenching down on me so tightly." his breathing starting to grow heavy, chest moving up and down. he looked at you with drowsy growing infatuated with you— practically crumbling underneath you. he swears he going to lose it.

his cock starts twitch from the feeling of his your velvet walls molding his cock. "you're doing so good for me, baby." you leaned down, sucking on his neck overstimulating him.

continued the bounce of your hips plopping down on his thighs as both of you gasping once "fu—fuck," choso breathed out waist twitching. his girth making you drool a bit as he stuffed you full.

"do i feel good, choso?" you stammered slowly losing yourself. the tip of his cock kissing against your g-spot. your cocky persona was slowly crumbling— it was no match for choso's girth and lengthy cock that could easily make your tremble. your failing to hide your moans slamming your hips down.

"fuck yes." he watches as your lips part strings of moans falling form your lips. he’s pulling you into a deep kiss smashing his lips on yours as his tongue slithers into your mouth. his clammy hands groping your ass giving the flesh a firm squeeze. your hips were so addictive choso could have you ride him all day letting him bury his cock into your sloppy cunt.

“shit. going to cum, cum with me baby. please.” choso whimpers each time his tip prodded against that spot inside you until you cum on his cock. your drooling all down his cock. his swollen cock throbbed inside you he shoots right inside your gummy walls, spilling his thick cum of you.

SUGURU GETO

"trying to get us caught, baby?" getou coos laying back against the black leather car seats of his car. your legs straddling his thighs as he watched you pull your panties to the side. you're so soaked, cunt glistening with your arousal.

"s-shut up." this was his fault. he just couldn't keep his hands to himself. you were both out trying to have a nice dinner but suguru was so handsy slipping his hands under your dress and whispering dirty things into your ear— he practically begged you to fuck him until you eventually gave in to him. he’s was such a brat.

his cock stood tall, precum dripping from his tip. you align yourself, sinking onto his cock and letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in. you were cock warming him trying to get used to the size of his cock before creating a slow pace once you start to move. you gripped his broad shoulders slightly pouncing on top of him.

you both moan in sync, he is memorized by your body above him as your hips move against him. you're so addictive. his breath hitched your pussy gripping him so tightly, your pace is so dangerously slow it makes him let out an unexpected whimper. you felt every inch of his cock sliding in and out of you, your pussy costing his aching cock so lewdly. "you always take my cock so well. heh."

"suguru,” your rising and dropping your ass effortlessly, grinding slow to feel him reach that spot within you, moaning and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. both your bodies starting to be covered with sweat as your bodies stuck together. suguru black locks sticking to his forehead, "open up for me." you open your mouth as he slides his thumb in your mouth, and you sucked on his finger wetting it up.

he took his thumb out of your mouth reaching between your legs where you two connect and started thumbing at your clit. your body jolts against him, clenching around him tighter practically suffocating his cock. “relaxx, baby.” he lets out a raspy chuckle as you threw your head back.

“sugruuu,” your mouth parts forming a ‘o’ eyes rolling back. “gonna cum, sugu.”

“be a good girl for me and hold it in a bit longer, ‘kay?” he choked, the two of you panting heavily. suguru rocks his waist with yours, and the squelching sounds of your pussy became music to his ears.

"so fuckin' wet, baby.” you nearly lose your balance as your clit becomes sensitive. “so wet just for me baby?”

“just for you sugu’." he was making your pussy throb more and more fluttering around him. your waist twitches feeling yourself get closer to your orgasm. your thighs started to burn as you started to rotate your hips in a circular motion. your mind becomes fuzzy as your vision blurs. "oh my godd," you babble.

“let it out baby,” you reach your climax cumming on his cock cum covering his cock and soaking up his thighs, moaning loudly and body falling weak. he’s panting heavily, trickles ropes inside of you.

[mariasont]

pearls and other happy accidents

spencer spends the afternoon holding shells and enduring your sweet torture

pairing: spencer reid x bimbo!reader warnings: fem!reader, bimbo!reader, spencer being the most patient bf ever, reader making suggestive jokes, suggestive-ish ending prompt: here wc: 0.6k

Spencer cocks his head, eyes tracing your figure as you sift through the shore with earnest determination, sand sticking messily to your manicured fingertips.

You’d agonized endlessly over your swimsuit selection, consulting him repeatedly for opinions he knew you’d disregard anyway, yet the resulting ensemble (completed with color-coordinated anklet, bracelet, and claw clip) undeniably makes the ordeal worthwhile.

And sure, perhaps his lingering attention on your ass is not exactly intellectual, but he decides it’s permissible — purely observational, of course.

“Spencer, babe, look how pretty!” 

Your fingers wiggle expectantly behind you, already certain he’ll handle the precious cargo. 

Spencer dutifully accepts the offering, eyes flicking downward to inspect what appears to be little more than a battered shell fragment.

He nearly chuckles to himself, but tenderness wins out as he murmurs gently, “Yeah, angel, very pretty.”

He balances the newest treasure precariously atop the mound of sand and miscellaneous beach finds already overflowing from his left palm.

“You know, most of these shells are calcium carbonate — the same stuff pearls are made of. Not that we’ll find any pearls today, but,” he smiles, clearly entertained by your fascinated expression, “I suppose your collection is pretty valuable regardless.”

You peer up at him with wide eyes, a thin sheen of sand glittering across your face and tangled in your hair as if you’ve become part of the beach yourself.

“Wait, so, like, does that mean shells are pearls, or pearls are shells?”

Spencer nearly laughs aloud, his heart helplessly melting as he wonders how exactly he ended up falling in love with you all over again on a random beach.

Crouching beside you, he reaches forward and sweeps a gentle hand over your cheek, amused by the way sand sticks stubbornly to it.

“Well, they’re related, but not exactly the same,” he answers. “Pearls form inside the shells, kind of like a happy accident.” He pauses, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, technically, your shells could’ve had pearls.”

He doesn’t mention, of course, that pearls aren’t really happy accidents at all — more like desperate attempts to shield themselves from pain.

When a grain of sand or parasite irritates them, mollusks secrete layer after layer of nacre, tirelessly covering the discomfort.

Spencer knows that sometimes beauty comes from suffering, though he’s certainly not about to burden you with the heavier side of biology — not when you’re smiling at him like the sun itself decided to visit the shore.

“Hmm,” you hum vaguely, fingertips tunneling deeper into the damp sand. “So my shells are almost pearls.”

“Maybe almost.” His brow furrows as he spots your slightly reddened knees — raw from hours in gritty sand. “Angel, your knees look like they’re taking a beating. Maybe it’s time to sit up for a bit?”

Your lips twitch into a flirty grin, eyes sparkling with barely concealed delight. “Is that your way of telling me you wanna be responsible for the state of my knees?”

Spencer nearly chokes on hair, eyes darting anxiously around the beach as if expecting judgmental seagulls or scandalized crabs to overhear. “You — seriously, you can’t just say stuff like that in public.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand, brushing your palms together to dislodge the sand sticking there.

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” you promise. “You ready to head back? I bet we can find something else to do.”

Spencer knows exactly what you’re suggesting — your subtlety has never been your strong suit, but frankly, it’s one of his favorite things about you.

He watches you walk ahead, smiling to himself as he trails behind, hands still full of your beach treasures. Perhaps it’s fitting, he muses, that pearls only exist because of persistent irritation.

After all, you’ve certainly mastered the art of sweet torture. Beauty from suffering, indeed, and Spencer is more than willing to endure a little discomfort, as long as you’re the one responsible.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 3 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

[diejager]

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 

“You’re happy, ja?”

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Bite me, Love

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Charlie Weasley loves his girl how he loves his dragons. AKA Charlie loves it when his girl bites.

WC: 1k

CW: Cussing, biting, and a bit sexual leaning

Charlie Weasley had a thing for fire.

It showed in everything he loved- his dragons, his job, the way his hands were always a little calloused from handling creatures that could (and would) turn a man to ash without a second thought. He liked things wild, untamed, full of passion and fight.

Which is why, when he met you, it all made perfect sense.

Because you were just like his dragons.

Stand-offish. Sarcastic. Sassy as all hell. And prone to overwhelming bouts of affection that usually ended in your teeth sinking into his skin.

Like now.

It was early- too early. The sun barely peeked through the window of your shared bedroom, casting a golden glow over the tangled mess of sheets and limbs. You were curled into Charlie’s side, trapped in the warmth of his arms, his rough palm smoothing over your back in lazy circles. He was a furnace, always running hot, and you should have been grateful for it in the chilly morning air.

But he was being too affectionate. Too soft.

And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re warm,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “Could stay like this forever.”

You grumbled something unintelligible into his chest, refusing to let your heart melt at the way his fingers traced absentminded patterns into your skin.

He chuckled, clearly picking up on your growing restlessness. “What, can’t handle a bit of affection, love?”

His teasing was met with a sharp bite to his shoulder.

Charlie didn’t even flinch. If anything, he laughed “Merlin, you’re worse than Norberta,” he mused, pulling you closer instead of retreating. “You know, she bit me the first time I tried to feed her. Damn near took off my hand.”

You growled- actually fucking growled- and bit him again, this time at the curve of his bicep, the firm muscle giving slightly under your teeth.

Charlie let out an appreciative hum, completely unbothered. If anything, he sounded pleased.

“Fuck, I love that,” he admitted, voice dipping low.

You huffed against his skin, barely resisting the urge to do it again just to shut him up.

It wasn’t just the mornings when this happened.

It was whenever Charlie got too much.

When he wrapped himself around you on the couch, arms and legs tangling with yours like he wanted to merge into your very being. When his hands got a little too handsy, slipping under your shirt absentmindedly while he talked, utterly unaware of how flustered you were becoming.

When he leaned in too close, eyes burning with mischief, lips quirking into that goddamn smirk.

That’s when your instincts kicked in.

Like an overstimulated cat- except instead of claws, you had teeth.

And Charlie? The absolute menace of a man adored it.

“Didn’t realize I’d be dating a feral little thing,” he teased one night after you nearly bit his knuckles when he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You’d glared at him, half mortified and half infuriated. “Then leave.”

“Not a chance,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin, “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

And fuck if that didn’t make your stomach twist into knots.

But it was worse when he knew.

When he realized exactly what his affection did to you.

And, worse still, when he used it against you.

Like now.

You were still trapped in bed, your limbs tangled with his, his broad chest rising and falling beneath your cheek. The warmth of him was suffocating in the best way, his scent- embers and earth, something deeply, irritatingly comforting- enveloping you entirely.

He shifted, just enough to make you hyper-aware of the solid weight of him, of the arm still wrapped around your waist, fingers splayed against the curve of your back like he had no intention of letting go.

“Hmm,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep. “Still pouting?”

You scowled, refusing to lift your head.

Charlie huffed out a laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

You bit him. Again.

Hard.

Right on the curve of his collarbone.

Charlie groaned. And fuck, the sound sent a jolt of heat straight to your stomach.

It was barely a second before he moved, suddenly rolling you beneath him, pinning you to the mattress with nothing but his weight.

You gasped, hands automatically bracing against his chest, fingers digging into the solid muscle.

He grinned, slow and smug, his stubble brushing against your cheek as he leaned in. “That’s not very nice, love.”

You glared up at him, breathing uneven. “Then let me go.”

Charlie tilted his head, considering. And then- because he was a menace- he leaned down, his lips brushing over your jaw, his stubble scraping just enough to make you shiver. “Not a chance.”

His voice was rough, teasing, but something deeper simmered beneath it, something possessive.

You clenched your jaw, your pulse thundering, your body caught between the instinct to fight and the overwhelming urge to give in.

You hated- hated- how easily he unraveled you.

Charlie chuckled, completely unbothered by your internal battle. “Go on, love,” he murmured, dragging his lips lower, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Bite me again.”

You shuddered, fisting your hands in his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

And Charlie- fucking Charlie- just waited, watching you.

His gaze burned into yours, blue eyes half-lidded, his expression one of utter satisfaction, of someone who knew exactly how much he affected you.

“You love this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Don’t you?”

You grit your teeth. “Fuck. You.”

Charlie smirked. “That an invitation?”

You let out a strangled noise- half groan, half exasperation- and, finally, sank your teeth into his shoulder.

He growled this time, the sound rumbling low in his throat, and before you could react, his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Overwhelming.

And so fucking unfair.

Because Charlie Weasley had a thing for fire.

And he’d never loved anything more than you.

[kiemiu]

' 𝓜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝓜𝐞 ,

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 6.8k

synopsis sae-byeok and cheol plan to pull off the perfect proposal.

genre pure fluff | requested by anon. | masterlist

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 past week, Sae-byeok had been acting… different. It wasn’t her usual quiet intensity, that calm, razor-sharp focus she wore like armor. No, this was something else entirely. Her edges, once so defined and steady, seemed to blur, like a blade dulled just enough to lose its edge. Her sharp, composed demeanor had softened in ways you couldn’t quite name, leaving behind a restless energy that didn’t belong to her.

You first noticed it when she began fidgeting—a habit so foreign to her that it nearly startled you. She’d tap her fingers rhythmically against the counter, the soft drumming barely audible but endlessly distracting. At other times, she’d pull at the hem of her shirt, twisting it between her fingers as if she was trying to ground herself. Her eyes, usually steady and direct, had developed a habit of darting around the room, like her thoughts were too restless to stay in one place.

Once in the middle of the night, you’d caught her pacing in the living room, something you’d never seen her do. She moved back and forth in measured steps like a pendulum, her brow creased with such fierce concentration that you almost didn’t want to interrupt. The sight was so strange it nearly made you laugh—until you saw the tightness in her jaw, the way her lips pressed into a thin, troubled line. Whatever was running through her mind, it wasn’t something trivial.

“Are you okay?” you asked tentatively from the doorway, watching her movements still like she’d been caught in the act of something secret.

She turned to you, and for a split second, her expression softened, as if the weight she carried had been lifted by the sound of your voice. But then she shook her head, flashing you one of those small, practiced smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice steady but betraying the pursuit of the storm you’d glimpsed moments before.

But you weren't convinced. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and her shoulders remained tense, like she was bracing herself for something. You didn't push her—knowing Sae-byeok wasn't the type to open up easily, and you didn't want to force her—but as the days passed, the distance between you began to grow.

At night, when you lay beside her, you'd stare at the ceiling, your thoughts racing at a speed you couldn't fathom.

Had you done something wrong? Had something changed between you? The idea clawed at your mind, a quiet, insidious voice whispering that maybe she didn't want to be here anymore. Maybe she wanted to leave.

The possibility terrified you. You tried to ignore it, to push it away and tell yourself you were overthinking. But every time you caught her fidgeting, every time she hesitated to touch you, every time her eyes darted away when you looked at her, the doubt crept back in. A hopeless feeling clawing at your insides as you started to feel the reprieve of your relationship—almost as if time rewinded and you had become the same girl in highschool taking baby steps to try and bring Sae-byeok out of her shell. You'd ask her if she was okay, and every time she'd give you the Same answer—a small practiced smile, paired with a steady "I'm fine."

But she wasn't fine. You could see it. Feel it.

And yet, you couldn't figure out what it was.

It reminded you of the moments before a storm, when the air itself feels alive. You could sense it, that crackling energy just beneath the surface, as if the universe were holding its breath before the first flash of lightning split the sky. And at the center of it all was Sae-byeok, holding a secret so tightly that it seemed to weigh down her every movement.

You wanted to ask her, to reach out and demand to know what was wrong, but something in her eyes stopped you every time. They weren’t distant, exactly. If anything, they felt too close, like she was looking at you with a depth of emotion that threatened to spill over at any moment. It wasn’t sadness, or even fear—it was something far more complicated, something you couldn't quite understand.

So you waited. You gave her space, trusting that when she was ready, she’d let you in. But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t shake the sense that something big was coming. Something that would change everything, for better or for worse.

The truth was, Sae-byeok did have a secret—one she wasn’t ready to share with you yet. She had won the games. Victory, if you could even call it that, had come at an unbearable cost. The horrors she had endured haunted her in the quiet hours of the night, creeping in like shadows that refused to stay hidden. She carried the weight of it all silently, the memories an ever-present ache in the corners of her mind.

But amidst the darkness, there was something else: hope. The prize money, blood-stained as it was, had given her something she hadn’t dared to believe in—a chance. A chance to rebuild, to create a life not just for her and Cheol but for you, the person who had been her anchor when everything around her had fallen apart. You had been the light she clung to, the reason she kept putting one foot in front of the other when everything seemed hopeless. And now, with the means to finally give you the life you deserved, she was determined to take the next step.

It was why, one crisp morning while you were at work, Sae-byeok turned to the only other person she could trust—Cheol. The two of them sat in the cramped but cozy apartment you all shared, the sunlight streaming through the window in golden patches. Sae-byeok fidgeted with her hands, her fingers tightening and loosening around each other as she tried to find the right words. For someone who could stand unwavering in the face of life-or-death stakes, this moment felt impossibly daunting.

Finally, she took a deep breath and blurted it out. “I’m going to propose.”

Cheol froze mid-bite of his breakfast, his wide eyes snapping to her face. “You’re really going to marry her?” he asked, his voice teetering on the edge of disbelief before quickly shifting into pure, uncontainable excitement.

Sae-byeok’s ears burned with the heat of her blush, but she nodded, her lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but steady. Saying the words aloud made her chest tighten and her heart race, the weight of the moment settling over her. It felt real now—terrifyingly, thrillingly real.

Cheol’s reaction was immediate and electric. He practically exploded out of his chair, his grin so wide it seemed like it might split his face in two. “This is amazing!” he exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Do you have a ring? When are you going to do it? Can I help? Please tell me I can help!” The questions spilled from him in a rapid-fire stream, his youthful energy contagious.

Sae-byeok couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine in a way it hadn’t been in so long. His enthusiasm eased some of the tension that had been coiled tight in her chest all week. “I’m picking out the ring today,” she told him, her smile softening as she leaned forward slightly. “And yes, you can help. But you have to promise me—no hints, no clues. You can’t say a single word to her. Not one.”

Cheol straightened like a soldier receiving orders, his small hands balling into determined fists at his sides. “I won’t say anything! I swear!” he said earnestly, his eyes wide with sincerity. “Not a single word!”

The sight of his resolve made Sae-byeok chuckle again, her lips twitching with amusement despite herself. “Good,” she said, reaching out to ruffle his hair gently. “Because if you do, I’ll know.”

Cheol’s face lit up with excitement, and he immediately started rattling off ideas, his words tumbling over each other in a blur of enthusiasm. Sae-byeok listened with a fond smile, her nerves easing just a bit more. As they talked, something warm unfurled in her chest—a flicker of hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in far too long.

Cheol was practically vibrating with energy, his enthusiasm spilling out in a flurry of ideas. “What if you propose at her favorite spot?” he suggested, his eyes wide with inspiration. “Oh! Or maybe you can cook her a fancy dinner at home first—like a whole three-course thingy!” He paused, frowning as he added, “Well, okay, maybe I should help with that part. You’re not really a good cook, Noona.”

Sae-byeok snorted, rolling her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said dryly, but her tone was light, even playful—a stark contrast to her usual guarded demeanor.

As the conversation continued, something began to shift inside her. With each new idea Cheol threw out, with every little plan they sketched together, a warmth she hadn’t felt in years began to take root. It was a quiet, fragile thing at first, like the faint glow of a candle in a dark room. But as the minutes ticked by, it grew stronger, brighter, filling her chest with a sensation she could barely recognize.

It was hope.

Hope had been a stranger to Sae-byeok for so long. Life had taught her to survive, not to dream, and she’d long since learned not to look too far ahead. The future had always felt distant and unreachable, like a mirage shimmering just out of grasp. But now, as she imagined slipping a ring onto your finger, as she pictured the look on your face when she asked you to be hers forever, the future felt closer. It wasn’t some vague, impossible dream that kept her up at night as the glow of the prize money remained her only light source and the smell of iron infiltrated her nose—it was something real, something she could hold in her hands.

Her gaze drifted to Cheol, who was grinning at her with an expression so full of excitement and love that it almost made her chest ache. He deserved this, too—a life where he could be a kid again, where he didn’t have to carry the weight of things no child should ever bear. And then her thoughts circled back to you, the one constant in her life who had shown her kindness even when she had nothing to offer in return.

It was you who had stayed by her side through everything, who had seen her pain and never turned away. You had given her a reason to believe, a reason to fight, even when she didn’t think she had it in her anymore. And now, here she was, planning a future with you—a future that entailed the three of you as a family.

When the day finally arrived, Sae-byeok woke before the first light of dawn, her nerves a live wire buzzing beneath her skin. She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to steady her breathing. Her mind replayed the words she had rehearsed countless times, but now, they felt heavier, more daunting. You were curled against her, your head resting on her shoulder, one hand splayed across her chest as though you couldn’t bear to let go of her even in the midst of sleep.

Your warmth against her side was comforting, grounding. It was mornings like this that reminded her of how far she’d come—of everything she had fought for. You were her safe place, the calm in the chaos, and today, she was going to make sure you knew that.

Finally, unable to resist the pull of her own thoughts, she turned her head to look at you. Her hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, her touch impossibly gentle. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but didn’t wake. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your temple.

“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, more to herself than to you.

You looked so peaceful in the soft glow of the morning light. Blinking awake slowly, your eyelids heavy with sleep. Once your gaze met hers, a small, sleepy smile curved your lips. “Morning,” you mumbled, your voice still thick with grogginess.

For a moment, the two of you simply stayed like that, your bodies tangled beneath the covers, the world outside still quiet and untouched by the bustle of the day. Sae-byeok’s hand found yours, her fingers intertwining with yours under the blanket.

“You’re up early,” you remarked softly, nuzzling closer to her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a moment, Sae-byeok hesitated, as though she wanted to say more, but instead, she shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow. “I thought we could do something today. Just the two of us—and Cheol. Maybe breakfast?”

Your eyes blinked open slowly, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, you gave her a drowsy, lopsided smile. “Breakfast?” you murmured, your voice thick with grogginess.

You raised an eyebrow, still half-asleep but intrigued. “What’s the occasion?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering away for the briefest of moments before settling back on you. “No occasion,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “I just… wanted to spend the day with you.”

There was something in her tone, a quiet vulnerability that made your chest tighten. You didn’t press her, though. Instead, you smiled, your hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “Okay,” you said simply, your thumb brushing over her skin. “Let’s do it.”

Relieved, Sae-byeok leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. “Come on,” she said softly, her lips curving into a gentle smile as she held out her hand to help you up. “I’ll help you get ready.”

You allowed her to pull you upright, still half-asleep but already warmed by the tenderness in her touch. Sae-byeok hadn’t been as openly affectionate as of recent—so, her sudden declarations of tenderness made you feel that something special was waiting just ahead.

In the bedroom, Sae-byeok opened your shared closet, her brow furrowed in thought. “Wear this,” she said finally, pulling out an outfit she loved to see on you—a soft knit cardigan and her favorite dress to see you in. “It’s comfortable but cute.”

You chuckled as you took it from her hands. “You’re picking out my clothes now?”

She shrugged, but the faint pink on her cheeks betrayed her flustered pride. “I just want you to feel comfortable,” she mumbled, turning her attention to picking her own outfit.

Before long, the two of you were helping each other get dressed. Sae-byeok smoothing out the small wrinkles in your dress and buttoning the ends of your cardigan with meticulous care, her hands lingering just a second longer than necessary. You teased her lightly about her perfectionism, but she only responded with a quiet smile, smoothing her hands down your arms before placing a gentle smack on your butt, “Can you make sure Cheol’s getting ready?” She softly asked, a smirk still tugging on her lips at your sudden flustered demeanor. You nodded, biting back a grin as you left your shared bedroom. A quiet “Thank you, pretty,” being heard as you made your way into the living room.

You found Cheol waiting by the front door, his excitement practically radiating off him as he bounced on his toes. The second he saw you, his face lit up. “Finally! I’ve been waiting forever. Let’s go—I’m starving!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with dramatic urgency that made you laugh.

Before you could say a word, Sae-byeok appeared behind you, her presence calm yet unshakable as always. The moment Cheol spotted her, his energy doubled. He grabbed both of your hands, practically dragging you toward the car once you put your shoes on. “Come on, slowpokes!” he urged, skipping ahead with a grin so wide it was infectious.

Cheol’s enthusiasm was like a small tornado, pulling you and Sae-byeok along as he bounced down the path. You could feel Sae-byeok’s soft chuckle against your shoulder as her arm looped around your waist, holding you close as you followed behind him. Her fingers gently pressed into your side, her touch grounding even amid Cheol’s whirlwind excitement.

“He’s gonna eat the whole menu at this rate,” you joked, glancing up at her.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The two of you shared a quiet laugh, her warmth pressed against you as Cheol skipped ahead, already chattering about what he was going to order.

The little café Sae-byeok had chosen was a charming spot tucked into a quiet corner of town. Morning light poured in through the windows, casting everything in warm, golden hues. The smell of fresh coffee and buttery pastries filled the air, and the soft hum of conversation made the space feel cozy and alive.

You slid into a booth by the window, stretching lazily as Sae-byeok sat across from you. Cheol plopped down beside her, his energy practically vibrating off of the seat as Sae-byeok sat quietly, fiddling with the edges of the menu to keep her hands busy.

“Do you want pancakes?” she asked suddenly, catching you off guard as you browsed the menu.

“I was thinking of getting an omelet,” you replied with a smile.

“Get pancakes too,” she urged softly, her gaze warm. “You deserve a treat—plus, you won't get full just off one omelet.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her unusually doting tone. “You’re really spoiling me today,” you teased.

Sae-byeok didn’t respond right away, her lips twitching in a small smile as she reached across the table to take your hand in hers. Her thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly, a gesture so tender it made your chest tighten.

When the food arrived, Sae-byeok was quick to cut your pancakes into neat pieces, nudging the plate toward you before you could protest. “Here,” she said, her tone nonchalant, though her cheeks were faintly pink.

“You’re being awfully sweet,” you said, your voice teasing but soft.

She shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “You’re worth it,” she said simply.

Meanwhile, Cheol was trying—and failing—to hide his growing excitement. His legs swung under the table, and every few minutes, he’d glance at Sae-byeok with a grin that only grew wider as time went on. Further into the breakfast, she started to bounce her knee nervously under the table, her growing tension palpable.

Cheol, noticing, slightly leaning over to place his small hand firmly on her knee, whispering, “You’re gonna shake the table apart.”

Sae-byeok shot him a sharp look, but there was no real heat in it. Instead, she exhaled a slow breath and stilled her leg, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”

As the meal went on, you couldn’t help but feel like there was something unspoken between the two of them. Sae-byeok kept casting you quick, almost shy glances, and Cheol seemed ready to burst with excitement. Still, whatever it was, they weren’t ready to share it just yet.

“Everything okay?” you asked Sae-byeok at one point, tilting your head curiously.

“Of course,” she said quickly, her voice steady, though her gaze lingered on your joined hands. “Just… thinking,” She murmured, her thumb softly grazing over your ring finger as if she was stuck in a daze.

Cheol snickered beside her, breaking her from her trance as she subtly elbowed him in the arm, Cheol’s grin only grew wider at the flush of Sae-Byeok’s cheeks.

The café hummed softly around you, the sunlight catching the edges of Sae-byeok’s dark hair as she smiled at you—small but genuine.

After breakfast, the three of you stepped out into the crisp morning air, the golden sunlight casting a soft glow over the quiet street. Sae-byeok lingered for a moment, her gaze shifting between you and the little shops nearby. There was something unusually tender in her expression as she turned to you, slipping her arm over your shoulder with an effortless familiarity.

“I was thinking,” she began, her voice quieter than usual. Her other hand slid into the pocket of her jeans, her fingers brushing the smooth velvet box hidden there. “You’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve a break.”

“A break?” you echoed, tilting your head in mild suspicion.

She nodded, motioning subtly toward a cozy nail salon just a few doors down. “Yeah. Go pick out a color you like,” she said, her lips curving into a rare, soft smile. “I already booked you an appointment.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “You booked me an appointment?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a playful smile. “Are you sure there’s no special occasion?”

“No occasion,” she replied quickly—too quickly. Her arm gave a gentle squeeze around your shoulder as she nudged you toward the salon door. “Just thought you deserved something nice. Relax, enjoy yourself.”

Your curiosity deepened, but the sincerity in her eyes made your suspicion melt away. “This is… really sweet,” you murmured, your gaze lingering on her as if searching for some hidden clue.

Sae-byeok’s smile flickered for just a moment, her fingers still absentmindedly fiddling with the secret tucked in her pocket. “Just go,” she urged softly, her voice tinged with a nervous edge she couldn’t quite hide.

Before you could ask anything else, Cheol chimed in, practically bouncing on his toes. “Yeah, yeah, relax already! We’ll come back and get you after!”

Laughing softly, you gave Sae-byeok’s hand a squeeze before stepping inside. The warmth of the salon embraced you, the gentle hum of dryers and the faint, clean scent of nail polish instantly soothing your senses. As you sank into the plush chair, letting the world outside fade, your worried thoughts on why Sae-byeok had been so insistent—and so nervous, slowly drifted off as you succumbed to the warmth of the shop.

Meanwhile, Sae-byeok and Cheol were far from calm. The two of them wove through the bustling streets, the morning air alive with chatter and the occasional scent of roasted coffee from nearby vendors. Cheol, overflowed with energy, darting from shop to shop like an excited puppy. “Okay, what about—flowers! What kind does she like again, Noona? Oh! Should we get candles? Ohh, we need music, Noona—do you have a playlist?”

“Cheol,” Sae-byeok said, her voice low but steady, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “It’s a proposal, not a wedding.”

Cheol spun on his heel to face her, arms thrown dramatically into the air. “Exactly! It’s the proposal! It has to be perfect!” His eyes gleamed with excitement, and for a moment, Sae-byeok wondered if he might actually combust from sheer enthusiasm.

His excitement was impossible to resist. Despite the knots in her stomach and the constant buzz of nerves just beneath her skin, Sae-byeok found herself laughing softly, shaking her head as she let him pull her into yet another store.

It was easier to focus on Cheol’s relentless chatter than to think too much about what was coming. Yet, no matter how much she tried to keep herself grounded, her mind kept wandering back to you. Her hands felt clammy, and every time the image of you—standing on the beach, looking at her with those eyes that always seemed to see right through her—flickered into her thoughts, her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might bruise her ribs.

Cheol interrupted her spiral with another wild idea, dragging her toward a display of fairy lights. “What if we set these up somewhere? Oh, or maybe we could put them in a jar—I saw my teacher do it one time.”

Sae-byeok sighed, though her voice held no real edge as she replied, “We’re not decorating for a festival, Cheol. It’s just… simple, okay?”

But he only grinned, unbothered by her attempt to rein him in. “Simple doesn’t mean boring! Come onnnn, a little extra never hurt anyone.”

Sae-byeok let out a breath, shaking her head again as a faint blush crept up her cheeks.

Cheol’s boundless optimism had a way of chipping through her stoic exterior, loosening the tension that had been coiling tighter with every passing hour. Still, the weight of the day pressed down on her, no matter how much she tried to let herself get swept up in his enthusiasm.

As they moved through another aisle, Sae-byeok’s fingers brushed against the velvet box hidden in her pocket. It was small, but it carried so much—the weight of her emotions, her fears, her hopes for the future. She pressed her thumb against the edge of the box, grounding herself in the reality of what she was about to do.

Cheol caught the movement and nudged her with his elbow, his grin softer this time. “Nervous, Noona?”

Sae-byeok shot him a sideways glance. “What do you think?”

“It’s okay,” he said, his tone unusually serious. “I don’t think you have to be…She loves you like mommy loved daddy…Which means she’s gonna say yes, I know it.”

His words struck something deep within her, and for a moment, she paused, her gaze drifting to the bustling street outside the shop window. You loved her—she knew that. But there was still that small, gnawing voice in the back of her mind that whispered doubts, planted seeds of what-ifs. What if she wasn’t enough? What if this moment wasn’t perfect enough, or her words stumbled, or—

Cheol grabbed her arm, yanking her back into the present. “Noona,” he said, his voice softer now. “This is gonna be a piece of cake, don’t worry…” He assured her, his hand falling from her arm to squeeze her hand.

She let out a shaky breath, nodding. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Cheol grinned, holding up a small jar of the fairy lights he’d been obsessing over. “Now, please can we get these and go back. You’ve got a proposal to crush, and I've got to make a beach look really romantic.”

Sae-byeok couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. With Cheol at her side, the moment felt a little less daunting, a little more real. As they stepped out of the store, the late afternoon sunlight warming their faces as she tightened her grip on the box in her pocket.

By the time Sae-byeok and Cheol returned to pick you up, the sun was beginning its slow descent, draping the city in warm, golden light. Long rays danced across the car’s hood, catching the edges of Sae-byeok’s face as she stepped out, her expression unreadable but laced with an undeniable tension. She opened your door for you, her lips curling into a faint smile as her dark eyes met yours.

“I have one more place I want to take you,” she said softly, her voice low and steady but carrying a note of something deeper—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Her gaze lingered on yours, as if she were trying to convey something words couldn’t quite reach. The vulnerability hidden in those sharp, steady eyes sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you both curious and a little breathless. You nodded, your trust in her outweighing the rising questions in your mind.

Once inside the car, Sae-byeok slid into the driver’s seat, her movements purposeful but tinged with a subtle nervousness. Her left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles pale, while her right hand found its way to your thigh. The warmth of her palm was grounding, her thumb brushing soft, absentminded strokes against the fabric of your dress. Cheol sat in the back, practically buzzing with energy.

He fidgeted endlessly, unable to sit still as his grin stretched so wide it seemed to consume his whole face. Every now and then, you caught his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, the glimmer of excitement in them barely concealed. You raised a questioning brow at him, but he only shrugged and looked out the window, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

The drive was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of a radio station playing in the background. Sae-byeok’s focus remained on the road ahead, her thumb tapping lightly against the wheel in a rhythm that didn’t match the music. The tension in her posture was palpable, her jaw set but her brows pinched ever so slightly.

Your gaze shifted to the passing scenery, though you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your chest. The quiet between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, charged with an energy that made you grip the seatbelt a little tighter.

When the car finally rolled to a stop, your breath caught in your throat. The sight before you stole the words from your lips.

The beach stretched out like a serene, untouched canvas, the sand glimmering faintly in the waning light. Waves rolled lazily to shore, their soft, rhythmic crashes the only sound against the hush of the evening. The sun hung low, spilling streaks of amber, rose, and lavender across the horizon, the colors blending seamlessly into the gentle sky. Its reflection danced on the waves, glimmering like molten gold scattered across the water.

When the car rolled to a stop near the edge of the beach parking lot, Sae-byeok turned off the engine and exhaled slowly, her hand still resting on your thigh. She glanced at you, her lips twitching into a soft, almost shy smile before she looked away.

“We’ll be right back,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge of nervousness. “Stay here for a little bit.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity. “Where are you going?”

Cheol piped up before Sae-byeok could answer, his grin as wide as ever. “We need to check something out really quick. Don’t worry, no secrets!” he said, his tone overly casual, though the excitement dancing in his eyes was anything but subtle.

You gave Sae-byeok a skeptical look, but she just smiled softly and squeezed your hand. “We won’t be long. Promise.”

With that, the two of them stepped out of the car, closing the doors quietly behind them. You watched as they made their way to the trunk, quiet whispers shared as they hauled multiple bags over their shoulders and tread toward the shoreline, Cheol practically bouncing alongside his sister. Sae-byeok glanced back once, her dark eyes meeting yours through the glass before she turned away, disappearing down the beach path.

Alone in the car, you tried to piece together what they were up to. The way Cheol had been practically vibrating with excitement all day, paired with Sae-byeok’s uncharacteristic nervousness, left you more curious than ever.

Meanwhile, down at the beach, Sae-byeok and Cheol worked quickly, their earlier planning finally coming to life. Sae-byeok carried a small bag slung over her shoulder, its contents carefully chosen and packed earlier that morning. Cheol, as usual, was full of energy, darting ahead to scout out the perfect spot.

“Here!” he called, pointing to a secluded patch of sand nestled between two gentle dunes. The waves lapped softly just a few feet away, and the setting sun painted the spot in hues of amber and rose.

Sae-byeok nodded, setting the bag down and pulling out a small blanket. Together, they spread it over the sand, smoothing out the edges before Cheol began pulling out the other items: jars filled with strings of delicate fairy lights that were powered by a small battery pack, a handful of candles protected by glass holders, and a small bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in twine.

“Do you think it’s too much?” Sae-byeok asked, her voice low as she adjusted the candles, her hands moving with a nervous precision.

Cheol looked up from arranging the fairy lights, his grin unwavering. “No way. I think she’s gonna love it.”

Sae-byeok paused, her fingers lingering on the bouquet. Her heart was racing, her nerves catching up to her despite her outward calm. She glanced at Cheol, who was now testing the lights, his face glowing with excitement.

“You sure?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Cheol stopped what he was doing and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure,” he said, his tone surprisingly serious. “You got this, Noona”

Sae-byeok nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line as she exhaled deeply. “Okay,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

They finished setting up just as the sun continued to dip closer to the horizon, casting the beach in it’s soft sunset glow. The fairy lights sparkled faintly in the fading light, the candles flickering gently as the ocean breeze swept through.

Stepping back to admire their work, Cheol clapped his hands together with a satisfied grin. “Okay, it’s perfect! Now go and get her!”

Sae-byeok shot him a small, grateful smile before turning and making her way back to the car. Her hands were clammy, her heart thundering in her chest, but she pushed it all aside. This was for you.

When she reached the car, she opened your door and extended her hand. “Come on,” she said softly, her voice steady but her gaze intense. “There’s something I want to show you.”

The weight in her tone sent your pulse racing, but you took her hand without hesitation, letting her guide you toward the beach. Behind you, Cheol followed at a respectable distance, a knowing grin plastered across his face.

As you reached the top of the dunes, your breath caught at the sight below. The soft glow of the candles and fairy lights danced against the golden sand, the waves glimmering in the last light of the setting sun. The blanket, the flowers, the way everything seemed so carefully placed—it all felt like a dream.

You turned to Sae-byeok, your lips parting to speak, but the words caught in your throat as she stepped closer, her fingers lacing through yours. Her dark eyes searched yours, steady but filled with an emotion so deep it made your chest tighten.

“I’ve been waiting for the right moment,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “to show you how much you mean to me.”

The trembling in Sae-byeok’s hand was subtle but unmistakable, a rare crack in her carefully composed demeanor that sent a rush of warmth through you. Vulnerability wasn’t something she wore often, and seeing it now made your heart ache with both tenderness and anticipation. She guided you down the gentle slope of the dunes, the soft glow of the fairy lights and flickering candles drawing you into a scene that felt almost otherworldly. The quiet rhythm of the waves filled the air, wrapping the moment in a serene, almost sacred stillness.

She stopped just shy of the blanket, her hand still holding yours, her fingers tightening ever so slightly as if drawing strength from your touch. For a moment, she stood there, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in a palette of amber and lavender. Then, she took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling in time with the steady crash of the surf.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” she asked, her voice low, steady, yet carrying a weight that made the words linger in the air.

Your lips curved into a soft smile at the memory, your mind drifting back to a simpler time—a time when the world felt less heavy, though no less meaningful. You nodded, your eyes meeting hers, and the quiet understanding between you filled the space where words weren’t needed.

“That day,” she continued, her gaze softening, “it felt like everything stopped for a moment. The world, the noise, all of it… it was just you and me. I didn’t realize it then, but… that was the first time I felt like I could breathe again. Like I wasn’t just surviving anymore.”

Her eyes searched yours, and there was something in them—something raw and unguarded—that made your breath catch. “It was here,” she said, her voice dipping lower, “that I realized… you’re my home. No matter what’s happened, no matter where I go, my heart leads back to you."

The sheer honesty in her voice hit you like a wave, your chest tightening as emotion welled up inside you. Her words weren’t just a declaration—they were a promise, a truth she had carried with her through every storm.

You opened your mouth to respond, your heart so full it felt as though it might burst, but before you could speak, Sae-byeok’s free hand moved toward her pocket. The movement was slow, deliberate, and you could see the faintest tremor in her fingers as she slipped them inside.

Time seemed to slow as she pulled something small and delicate from her pocket, her dark eyes never leaving yours. The moment felt like it existed outside of time, suspended between the steady crash of the waves and the warm glow of the fading sun.

Your breath hitched as she gracefully dropped to one knee, the motion so deliberate, so unexpected, that it stole the air from your lungs and every word from your lips. There she was, kneeling in the sand, her dark hair catching the last golden hues of the setting sun. The sight of her—strong yet vulnerable, steady yet trembling—etched itself into your memory.

From her pocket, she pulled out a small velvet box, and as she opened it, the glint of the ring inside caught the fading light. It was simple yet breathtaking, its understated elegance mirroring everything about Sae-byeok: unadorned but profound, quiet but capable of stealing your heart.

Her gaze locked onto yours, unwavering despite the faint tremor in her hands. “I’ve spent my whole life searching,” she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “For something… someone to fight for. And it’s you. It’s always been you.”

The words hung in the air between you, fragile yet unbreakable, as if she’d just given you the most sacred piece of herself. Her voice softened, her eyes never leaving yours as she whispered, “Will you marry me?”

Tears blurred your vision, the world around you melting into soft hues of amber and rose, the only thing clear being the woman before you—the woman you loved more than you thought possible. The words tangled in your throat, caught between overwhelming joy and the sheer magnitude of what this moment meant. Instead, you nodded first, a shaky, fervent motion before finally finding your voice.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. Then louder, as if the universe itself needed to hear it. “Yes!”

Relief and joy flooded Sae-byeok’s face, her lips curving into the softest smile you’d ever seen as she slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there. Standing, she pulled you into her arms, holding you so tightly it felt as though she was trying to memorize every part of you, to make this moment last forever. Her embrace was warm, strong, and unshakable, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you.

From a few steps away, the sound of a loud cheer shattered the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Finally!” Cheol hollered, practically jumping in place. “I thought I was going to explode keeping this secret!”

You laughed through your tears, the sheer happiness of the moment spilling over as Sae-byeok shook her head in mock exasperation. Cheol darted over, grinning from ear to ear as he proclaimed, “Okay, now I’m officially the wedding planner. No arguments!”

The rest of the evening unfolded like a dream, each moment saturated with joy. Cheol couldn’t stop teasing you both, his endless enthusiasm drawing soft chuckles and affectionate glances from Sae-byeok, who seemed lighter than she had in weeks. The tension she’d carried with her had melted away, replaced by a quiet confidence as her fingers intertwined with yours.

As the three of you strolled along the shoreline, the waves brushed gently against your feet, the ocean stretching out endlessly before you. Overhead, the sky had deepened into a canvas of indigo and violet, the first stars twinkling faintly in the distance. You glanced over at Sae-byeok, her profile softened by the moonlight, as you felt your heart swell.

She had won more than a game. She had won her future—a future she had fought for, bled for, and had chosen to share with you.

[lipsent]

݁˖  COIN MACHINE !  ⨯   ──   g.satoru  x f.reader . . .      ╲   the  coin  machine  stops  working  at  the  arcade  and  you and  your  friend  aren’t  finished  playing.  luckily  a  tall   stranger  with  a  heaping  basket  of  coins  catches  your   eye,  and  you  seem  to  catch  his,  too.

wc.  2k . . .  tags.     nsfw (18+),   car  sex,   gojo  being  half  a  gentleman    —  so sorry it ends abruptly, this is my secret santa to @goxjo!!! I’ve held back your gift for far too long and I’m so sorry for that, I’m currently sick and in a foreign country so I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to post this if not now. If you’d like me to write more, I will gladly do so. I hope this suffices for now. Merry Christmas Aki!! I hope you enjoy <33 for the @pixelcafe-network secret santa event !

“Look’it you.”

His hands slid from your waist to the expanse of your ass. His gaze—much like his head—tilted up to meet your gaze as a pool of warmth began to rise from where you sat on his lap. The driver’s seat was certainly the place to be with one Gojo Satoru.

He rolled his lips to dampen it then turned to the side and looked out his car window.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you for even a second, however, eyeing you up and down again. “You sure you don’t wanna head back to your folks’?”

You kept your hands on his shoulders, even scrunching up the fabric on your palm when he couldn’t decide between your two eyes.

It almost seemed timed by the man before you, the way it had only begun to snow a few days ago and now you’ve met the cutest guy who seemed to have brought on the snow himself. When you brush your fingers on his jaw, the tips grazed what you were convinced were strands of snowflakes from his head.

His car had begun to match him with a white coat over it since he had been parked just outside your house for a few minutes now.

“I’m sure that’s not what you sent me here for,” you replied cheekily. Or at least you thought you were even with that grin pinning your cheeks.

“Oh, that’s just a bonus sweetheart,” he said in a lowered voice that drew out a little bit more of himself than before; a kind of slippery fervor that you had somehow coerced from his tongue.

Deciding he’d had enough of your prying eyes, he leaned into your ear and his breath swirled around the shell.

“But we both know you’d like that now, wouldn’t you?”

You leaned back as your brows furrowed. “You were the one making eyes at me at the arcade.”

A snicker left his relaxed grin. “If that’s the story you choose to tell yourself, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“I’m calling you a pot—the very same one calling the kettle black.”

He squeezed your ass and you nearly let out an audible reaction.

“Come now, don’t tell me you’re getting all coy on me after everything you pulled at the arcade.”

“And what exactly did I pull?”

His hands slid back up to your waist, as if withdrawing even just in the slightest degree.

“I don’t have to tell you what you did.” Your name slithered out from his lips and the very sound bled into your reaction.

.

“Shit!” She slammed her first onto the glass.

The sudden noise snapped you out of your trance, having you look away from the tower you had been eyeing since he’d sauntered in.

A very gorgeous tower indeed. One with white hair and crystal eyes.

You turned around to gaze back at the claw machine you had just been leaning on. “Give it up babe.”

Your half-mast eyes shot back to your friend whose eyes reflected the plush keychain they’d lost in the sea of its friends.

“That was my last coin!” Your friend whined as she grabbed the sides of the machine.

You shook your head but smiled as you pulled out your wallet from your back pocket and turned towards the direction of the coin machine.

“C’mon.”

Your friend followed behind you happily as colorful blinking lights painted spots on her skin.

“This arcade’s pretty weird, huh? Needing to put your money into a coin machine so you can play the games.”

“There’s a strategy to it. It’s more common than you’d think.”

“Right.” Your friend stared off into the distance absentmindedly, her eye catching on a pleasing sight. “Hey, babe?”

“Mm?”

“That guy’s totally checking you out.”

You looked over and sure enough, that gorgeous tower of a man stared right back at you.

His smile widened when he’d realized you looked his way.

You looked back at the coin machine and just before you could insert a bill into it, you saw an ‘out of order’ sign hanging above it.

the entire row of coin machines were out of order.

“Aw.” Your friend’s shoulders slumped. “Shall we go get a drink instead?”

But you had your eyes set on the man with snow for hair.

Specifically, on his basket.

He seemed to be sharing it with his friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you grabbed a few.

You made your way past the noisy arcade games, weaving through people and noises that jumped out at you before finally arriving at him.

He looked down at you and raised a brow. His brunette friend bent forward with his hands in his pockets to observe the hold up.

“The coin machine’s broken and my friend and I—we kinda wanna play more games. You guys have a basket full of coins, is there any way I could pay you for some?” You asked with a smile pinned to your blushed cheeks.

You made sure to look up at him with your eyes as much as possible; your eyes would naturally be made wider, and with eyes like that it might’ve sent the right message: this wasn’t just about the coins.

He gave you that same wide smile, all too gleeful and reassuring to be letting your guard down over.

“Sure. How about we follow you around and you and your friend can use as many coins as you want, hm?” He suggested, pushing up his circular shades.

“Cool! I’ll treat you to something after we’re done, thank you so much,” you beamed.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured under his breath but with how handsome he was, it was impossible to miss a thing that left him.

Your friend finally came over and the four of you introduced yourselves. Having to yell over the banging noises of the whack-a-moles wasn’t the best circumstance to be introduced to your future husband, but your mind wandered far too long and far into said future that it grew softer than white noise.

So there the four of you were—exploring the arcade and wasting away at claw machines. Luckily, both Satoru and Suguru didn’t seem to have a problem with your friend’s obsession with claw machines, but they did give each other looks every now and then that you had pretended to miss. You were on a mission, and it was crucial to be innocent in an already dully innocent situation.

Time went by too quick, however, and you had missed its call completely.

“Shit.”

Your friend whipped around and blinked at you. “What?”

“That—that stupid christmas party at my place, I’m late,” you groaned, grabbing your bag from the shooting game you were about to step into.

You turned to Satoru and nearly winced. You bit your lip hadd as punishment to yourself.

“Fuck, sorry—I did really have the intention of making it up to you—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s my treat. You know what? When’s the party?”

“Three.”

It was 2:40pm.

So much for your mission.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll get there in no time.”

“I live outside the city.”

“Not a problem,” Satoru insisted again. “Really, I’ll drive you. Suguru had somewhere else to be anyway.”

He looked towards Suguru, who returned the look and nodded with a quick smile.

“Satoru’s making me do all the work in our school group project.”

Satoru punched Suguru in the shoulder and they both laughed.

“Asshole.” Satoru rolled his eyes but his smile could drown people in blizzards. “So?”

“My friend … also needs a ride …” you pointed towards her, and she stepped out of the shooting game and gave a meek smile that matched your own.

You knew you were pushing it. But before a gorgeous whore, you were first a good friend.

“Oh, sure,” Satoru nodded without hesitation. “We’ll drop your friend off first.”

.

And now you’re sitting in the driveway near your house and on top of Satoru’s lap.

“Fine. Would you prefer I make demands?”

“It would be easier for the both of us, yeah.” Satoru reached for a wallet in his pocket.

“I’m on birth control,” you blurted, eyes tracing his veiny hand and you watched as it slowly retracted into his pocket along with his wallet.

“Duly noted,” he chuckled, and his hands busied themselves on the zipper of his black pants instead.

It didn’t take long before his cock was revealed to you, and he was reclining his chair just less than an inch back for slightly more room.

When you sank down on him, his lips fell loose, thumbs digging into your flesh when he grabbed your waist like he was trying to bruise you from his grip alone.

You sat on him completely and small noises escaped as you tried to get used to the sudden stretch. Lava for blood ran from your wet lips down to your legs while your arms and hands remained iced to the tips.

“Oh, you’re just adorable like this,” he grunted, a low growl falling through the gaps as he gritted his teeth. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

A knuckle had already found its way to your lips, your teeth biting down like paper on pencil as you tried your best to be modest in a not-at-all modest situation.

“C’mon.” Satoru chuckled when he gently held your hand in his, peeling it away from your face as you whined.

“Let me see that pretty face of yours.”

“It’s … a little … t-tight …”

“I know, I know … does it hurt?” He kissed a trail from your jaw all the way to your shoulder then down your collarbone.

“No—ngh!”

Satoru rolled a bruising thrust into you, his tip rubbing up against your cervix as he squeezed your ass with both of his hands as if they were handles.

“Fuck,” he cursed crisply into your ear when he hunched over from the pleasure he’d inflicted. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“You’re so—ah!”

He thrusted in again and then kept up the slow rhythm with a force opposite from its pace, each wet slap dragging your heart closer to your gut as your cheeks ran hot.

“Satoru—fuck—”

“Mm, you’re already shaking—” He was cut off by his own groan as he grabbed your thighs like a lifeline, fingertips digging into your supple flesh as you clenched around him.

He had only thrusted in again when suddenly someone appeared through your front door and Satoru had the instinct of dropping his backrest flat against his backseat to hide the both of you from direct sight.

You both stayed completely silent and noisy simultaneously with your pants and his heartbeat in your ear.

“You should have drove away!” You hissed in gritted teeth.

“Why, do you want to stop?”

You made an indistinguishable noise and he only tilted his head and raised a brow at you.

“That’s not an answer, sweetheart,” Satoru cooed, the saccharine from his tone so viscuous you nearly choked on it.

You slowly rose and peered out to see where the bottom of the window met the person’s head—maybe eyes—rising too much would mean having to pull out from Satoru and you had that very deeply in mind and in other places too.

“It’s my uncle.”

“The creepy one or the one you like?”

“The creepy—wait how do you know about my uncles?”

“Every family has ‘em,” he replied as you physical felt his chest inflate with pride. “Now then.”

Satoru had somehow managed to reach down and swipe a finger against your clit. You twitched, and he tried not to wince at the sudden movement.

“Satoru!” You hissed. “He’s right there!”

“And he can’t see us. Let me guess, he’s taking a smoke right now and can’t give a rat’s ass about the fact that there’s someone parked by your driveway,” Satoru practically barked.

You shushed him, but he only rolled his hips into you causing you to squeal. He rubbed your clit in circles and something about this entiee situation had painfully turned you on even more despite the attitude you were giving him.

“Satoru,” you moaned, leg twitching from the sudden flood of stimulation.

“Do you want me to drive away, princess?” He twirled the little petname around his tongue as he snickered.

[muzzlemouths]

Mermay day 1: Seashell

WC: 1970 // TW: n/a

It’s not every day that you have the chance to encounter something magical in the deep, blue sea. 

Sure, mermaid sightings have become more common over the years ever since their migration patterns shifted to encompass a larger part of the humble port town you call home, but their very existence continues to astound you and remains a focal point of the magic that threads through the sea. To behold such creatures might not be the once in a lifetime experience it once was, but that doesn’t make it any less special.

Today, you’ve rowed your measly, wooden skiff far into the ocean’s embrace for just that reason, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pods before they’ve all left for bluer waters, bringing with you a pair of old binoculars, a hat to keep the sun off your cheeks, and the simple pleasure of a tuna salad sandwich.

Unfortunately, it simply isn’t your day. The temptation to pack up your things and call it a day grows with every passing hour that you sit here cooking under the midday sun with nothing to show for your efforts. You had raced for the docks the moment news spread that a large pod had been spotted just north of the shore, failing to pack anything more than the essentials in your hurry to get out on the water. But now, bobbing along the ocean all on your lonesome, you’re starting to feel a little foolish about it all. If things continue as they are, your only reward will be a sunburn and a firm kick to the pride.

Reminding yourself that patience is a virtue, your binoculars are set aside and the search for fins briefly halted in favor of tucking into your lunch. There is nothing in the world you trust more in this moment than the healing properties of hardboiled egg, sour pickle, and cold fish slathered in way too much mayo. It hits the spot like nothing else on a day like today, when the breeze is salty and the temperature is just right. If nothing else, coming out here today was worth it for the enrichment alone. You really need to get out of the house more often.

A quiet knock, calcium on wood, interrupts your meal. Tuna escapes from the side of your mouth in a thick glop and lands on your thigh as you twist around to face the noise, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

It isn’t unusual to welcome visitors, even — if not especially —out in the ocean. Everything from seagulls to sea lions will come over looking for a bite if you so much as smell like you’re hoarding food in your pockets, so it’s fairly surprising when you’re greeted by nothing but the appearance of a small, beige shell.

It’s a pretty little thing. Off-white in color with tapered claws and a narrow body. You don’t often find murex shells on your walks along the beach, especially not in this perfect of condition, so its existence is, on its own, a pinch confounding. Odder, still, it appeared in your boat seemingly out of nowhere, and still wet from the ocean, to boot, as though it had simply hopped inside for a free ride back to shore.

Your sandwich is easily forgotten, set aside so you can look the shell over with both hands. It really is beautiful, as all shells are. That said, there’s really nothing special about it aside from how perfectly intact it is, and for that reason alone you decide it would be better appreciated by a creature that can actually make use of it, seeing as you’re much too large to fit in the abode yourself.

With little more than a casual shrug the shell is unceremoniously tossed back into the sea.

Seeing fit to return to your sandwich, you wipe the salt from your hands and turn back around — where a stranger awaits, wide eyed and looking impossibly disheartened.

The mermaid’s presence alone startles you backwards. These creatures are the very reason behind your expedition today, sure, but never before have you seen one so up close and personal; especially not one of this size.

With a rounded head, squared shoulders, and a back fin stretching further than your entire upper half, you can only imagine that the rest of him, obscured below the chest, dwarfs you entirely. He is strangely painted for a creature of the sea. A sunshine yellow body with brilliant gold accents meeting sharp cherry red, frilled neck fins bursting with the color. A fan of sunbleached fins circles his face, lazily draping over his shoulders and dripping saltwater down his torso.

For such an enormous creature, one might expect him to look quite vicious, but that isn’t the case. If anything, he looks entirely dejected, frowning at you like a puppy that’s just been kicked to the side of the road.

“Oh, um…hello…” The words dribble from your mouth like breadcrumbs, soft and nearly unheard. Your stomach twists uncomfortably as the oversized fish before you continues to do nothing but stare in your direction. 

You can’t deny the stars in your eyes (the opportunity to see a mermaid in such close detail inevitably has you beaming with excitement) but your gut reminds you that mermaids, much like any other sharp toothed creature that rules the deep, are more than capable of making you into their version of a tuna sandwich. You have to tread carefully.

“Are you out here on your own?” You ask, fully expecting to be ignored. “There’s normally more of you…you know, traveling in pods, and such. I mean, it’s unusual to see one of you all by yourself, but not impossible, it’s been recorded befo—”

Either your nerdy ramblings bore him, or, more realistically, he didn’t actually understand a word of what you just said, because he disappears beneath the waves again before you manage to finish the thought. Rude.

Sighing, you resign yourself to the notion that the special moment is already over with quick as it came. You should head back to shore before the sun threatens to pierce a hole through your flimsy hat, anyway. No point in pushing your luck.

You’ve barely curled your hand around the oar when your boat pitches back back back, where a second mermaid dips the stern into the ocean like a chip takes to salsa, having already shimmied its body halfway into your boat and wrapped its cavernous mouth around what remains of your tuna salad sandwich.

“H—Hey!”

You are clumsy as a fish out of water yourself as you attempt to save your lunch, but this new mermaid, blue as the ocean itself, is quicker. Quick enough to slide over the side of your boat like a slinky coming down the stairs, taking your beloved sandwich with him.

The resulting turbulence throws you to your back, then eases, waves calming ever briefly as your boat is allowed to settle for all of a blink before the bow side heaves into the ocean, taking in water fast as the first mermaid awkwardly scrambles its way up and into your boat. Gills flaring, tail thrashing, he shimmies into the small vehicle like a sea lion attempting to get its footing (finning?) on a slippery rock, until he finally manages to fit all of himself inside. Barely. How your boat doesn’t sink from the weight outright, you don’t know.

Your hands fly up and away from the creature as he makes himself at home here, curling in a big, cozy circle (seemingly unaware of or apathetic to the damage he is doing to your only source of transportation in the process) until finally he comes to a stop before you. Then and only then does a noise stir from his throat. Something wet, something ugly… the sound of a cat about to hack up the world’s nastiest hairball.

And hack he does, undulating at the throat and dry heaving for ten impossibly long seconds until out falls a shell, then two, then four, then twelve, all landing directly in your lap and covered in a thick layer of mucus, cozied up beside the stripped corpses of his breakfast. How thoughtful!

It takes more strength than you’re willing to admit just to tear your eyes away from the mess, and when you finally do, finding the mermaid’s eyes once again, it’s to the sight of him beaming proudly. Ear to — er, fin to fin. 

You try to smother the disgust before it reaches your expression. Really, you do. But it must show on your face regardless, because his smile crumbles into a look of abject devastation, and in fact, he looks outright inconsolable over your evident lack of appreciation for his gifts.

“No, no, it’s okay!” It’s a battle and a half to keep yourself from gagging as you pluck one of the shells — a vibrant orange conch — from the pile, and bring it up to your face for a better look, breathing through your mouth all the while so you don’t inhale the stench of half digested fish. “This one is pretty neat,” you tell him. It’s not even a lie, really. The shell is ringed to a sharpened point, its inside smooth under your thumb and brushed with shades of rainbow sherbet, making for quite the looker.

The mucus is done away with easily enough with a few dunks in the ocean, then dried with the hem of your shirt. It is then tucked into your pocket, weighing no more than a stone, and with that you turn back to the mermaid who waits, expectantly, for your final judgement. All it takes is a smile for him to flash his own set of pearly whites, all worries forgotten the moment he understands that you’ve finally accepted the gift.

His body tucks against yours like an oversized dog looking for pets, purring against your jugular and spreading oily residue across your cheeks, and drenching your clothes, tail thrashing with excitement. It would be cute if not for the fact that your white knuckled grip on the gunwale is the only thing preventing him from outright knocking you from the boat and into the awaiting ocean.

An impatient growl interrupts your chances of being flattened like a bug against the port. It’s the only thing that manages to pry the mermaid off of you, and even then, he does so with visible reluctance, complaining to the awaiting blue mer with agitated clicks of his tongue.

Even so, he finds the time to nuzzle against your chest (that is, bulldozer into it) one last time before slinking out of your boat with relative ease, leaving you be at last.

With his offerings accepted and joy restored, he spares one last look your way, head popping above the surface and arm following soon after to depart with an eager wave, then he disappears beneath the water for good. Your sandwich thief follows close behind, hardly acknowledging you with more than an agitated grunt before he, too, dives out of view, and that’s that.

Your body slumps, heavy with exhaustion, against the only part of your boat that doesn’t look like it will give out at any minute. Tepid water laps at your ankles, made cloudy by the gut flora encircling the pile of shells they left behind. You’re never going to get this smell out of your clothes.

Despite everything that occurred, you can’t find it in yourself to complain. You have one hell of a story to tell, and a beautiful shell to remember them by until next year rolls around when maybe, just maybe, you might see them again.

One thing is for sure: the next time you set out in search of mermaids, you’ll bring enough tuna for two.

[voidcat]

idk little elaboration on this ig michael kaiser x gn!reader. vampire au. wc: 1k p.2ish wip

it's been an odd couple of days, weeks even.

Michael isn't sure what did it start with but it ended with you caught up in the claws. When you first disappeared, he paid it no mind. You did like your space and tended to disappear on him often. Not for naught, he did press your buttons, forcing you out of your shell and further- fight or flight, is the simplest result nature offers everyone. You are your nerves, your brain, your body and systems working in absolute unity.

'Homeostasis.'

He still hears your voice in his head correcting him.

'It is what you call your body working in regulation, maintaining its inner- and outer balance, if you include the barreers and systems engaging with the world to be outer.'

He tests the word on his tongue.

"Hoh-mee-oh-stay-sis" a funny word for something so simple yet heavy.

All the burden entities in whole carry. The essence of life maybe, to keep the gears running, to keep the showing going.

What you've been lacking lately.

It's been a long while since you disappered, and returned, eventually.

You do, always finding your way back to him. But at the sight of you, looking normal but not quite, face sunken and something empty behind your eyes, he felt the hairs on end spike up. Yet Michael had been worried for a while longer than that.

When you hissy fit went on longer, no contact to anyone or anything, no sign of you existing in any space, he knew something was off.

When you step in through the frame, lights too loud and bright, and your eyelids unable to response, you stand in the entrance for a while. Your body carried you all the way here, something born out of reflex, you assume, but you don't know this place.

It smells... nice. Or what should be considered nice. There is a fragnence of musky and sweet, were you to look around a little, you could've spotted the sources to be little candles scattered around.

Shaped of strawberries in a basket, some roses and few more- varying from cute to aesthetic, only the cat shaped candle on the bookshelf apart from them, unlit. Candles you would never light up normally.

Not that you remember any of these. But he does.

It's been some time now, you sit still in the room he told you was yours, curtains pulled all the way to both edges, drowning you in absolute darkness.

It feels like home that way. You can still taste the dirt and the cold on your tongue.

Something is wrong.

That much, you know. You feel weirdly silent, calm, something missing, ripped out of you even.

Your confusion does not bring forth anything akin to worry though. Worry, the word might've made you chuckle perhaps. Such a small sound for something people claim to be big. It must be what keeps life kicking and going. It's what dances behind those blue eyes of the man you've been observing whenever he comes near, if your judgement is anything to come by.

For the most time things go still, those moments you like best, as if ceasing to exist-- then the serene darkness is interrupted, you feel pulled back to a stage you do not belong.

The man becomes memorable again whenever he does so. You think, maybe that's what he wants.

Nobody seemed to pay you any mind or even spared a glance up until now. His explosive behaviors only seem to strenghten your case.

(He would've laughed at it, you'll learn later. 'Explosive? I'll show you explosive.' or something cliche like that. He is the closest example to life you've been witnessing as of late- so he marks the upper limit for such definitions for you.)

He acts and moves and talks in ways that confuse you, making your body shriek. A reaction you find abnormal from yourself, what must've caused it. Maybe something runs deeper to have caused such a trigger response.

His behavior only worsens when you look at him without a sound, expressionless. Those moments, you mark as 'explosive'.

His pupils dilatate, his voice gets louder, until you hear a little ringing-- you begin to notice how his fists tightens, his body changing color. Drops of something rim at the edges of his eyes, shining under the light yet not in any particular color.

Red and flush in the face, neck craned out, muscles constricted and something ragged, a sound like he is in pain almost.

These displays add to your confusion.

You do not know why you are there or why you're staying. You suppose you could leave, but it'd only trigger his explosion again. You do not make any sense as to why he is so adamant on keeping you near, to stay close.

The man has given you a name but he shifts again whenever you call him that. You later muse that the emotion he must've felt is sadness, or distress, when you utter the name 'Kaiser'.

And so you stop doing that too.

'It's Michael. Not Kaiser.' he has said this so many times that his voice rings long enough in your head now.

On the moments of stillness when he makes you sit with him, you catch his face shifting too. Those emotions, you'll learn to label far later, so they remain saved somewhere in the back of your mind for the longest time.

You know something is deeply and utterly wrong.

More to do with you and your predicament than the man before you. Even while your mind and body were devoid of everything, you could feel it. That sinking feeling with its claws surrounding you, its grip tightening with each futile attempt he makes at you.

You suppose, despite it all, maybe you should thank him for teaching you so much in the meantime- to help you categorize and label all you've done so far. But you think, this would only upset him further-- another judgement you've learned to make in your time with him. So you refrain from voicing that too.

Not that it matters. It scratches at your throat, the dryness of your mouth hurting you from the inside out, like something dragging its nails into your skin, so you remain silent majority of the time.