#*vibrates in anguish* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stormhearty · 9 months ago

Text

Paring: former Azriel x Reader

Triggers: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, cursing, a lot of bold and italicize

Word Count: 3K+

Summary: The High Lords called a meeting to discuss the Death-God’s resurrection. However, with the death of their Seer, tensions run high between Day and Night Court, Helion outraged by the loss of your life. Truths are revealed and lies are exposed. And what happens when the High Lords realize that they have all been too late?

Note: I thank you all for all the love you have given to my one shot!! I had never thought it would have been so well received by fans and writers! I am very amused by everyone's reactions and thoughts on the one shot — everyone is wanting blood and redemption for our poor reader. And she will! This chapter is a segway/filler chapter — but still important. It's still angsty, don't worry. This one shot will probably become a 3 part series. I know in that voting poll I had done asked if you guys wanted a 5k chapter, rather than a 2- 2k chapters, but I wanted to leave you guys with one more chapter to look forward to! Please look forward to it!

Part One | Part Three | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“You had abandoned my emissary, disregarded her sight and had her take her own life in your Court… And for what? Your mate’s sister’s powers?!” Helion was fuming, amber eyes staring the High Lord of Night down, “And that her mate — - “a growl escaped his lips, as he glanced at the Spymaster next to Rhysand, “Had cheated on her for said sister?!”

The High Lord of Day’s voice echoed throughout the throne room, shaking its very walls at the allegation of what had happen within the wards of the Night Court. Helion’s fingers gripped the edge of the large round table, his claws causing the wood to splint underneath his fingertips.

“And now… you are telling me that her body disappeared?” his voice deathly low, “That your Spymaster’s shadows had whisked her body away to — God-knows-where… That, that child, never had never had a proper burial?!”

Rhysand couldn’t utter a single word against the claims placed against him and his Court — he couldn’t when everything that Helion had roared was true.

“… Show me…” Helion hissed, focusing at his old friend, “Show us what had happened that day…”

Rhysand gulped, staring at Helion before glancing around the table towards the High Lords of Pyrthian. All of them staring him down before all felt the claws of Rhysand's power creeping in their minds, images of that day of your death playing in their minds — all of them watching the confrontation between the Inner Circle and you — on how you were cornered and betrayed, leading up to your very death.

He hated it. Rhysand not only relived that that multiple times during his dreams — where he had failed you. He now had to relieve it while he was awake. Hearing your pleads and cries for him to listen to your visions, and seeing your body dying on that marble floor — to watch it be taken away by tendrils of shadow.

Once the memory came to pass, sobs echoed throughout the room. Helion being the loudest as he ran a hand down his face, his form shaking in his seat. Rhysand glanced towards his Inner Circle, watching his family relive that moment as well; eyes focusing on Azriel, who gripped the arms of his chair as his face wrinkled in anguish at the memory.

It had been a month ever since your death, a month since the sliver of shadows that once served the Spymaster had taken your body away — unknown to even Azriel on where they had brought your body to. And a month ever since more and more whispers of Koschei’s resurrection echoed throughout the Courts. The Death-God’s power vibrating throughout all of Pyrthian — it was difficult to not miss.

The High Lords gathered in Day Court to strategize on the impending danger of the Death-God. However, it was no secret on what had happened in the wards of Night Court. The loss of your light present throughout all of Pyrthian — every High Lord felt it.

Especially Helion.

He wanted nothing more to hurt and maim every member of the Inner Circle; but that wasn’t the purpose of this meeting — though he wanted it to be.

Helion reigned in his emotions, trying to calm the rage that boiled in his blood. Trying to clam the sadness he felt for the loss of you. He straightened up in his chair, letting out a shaky breath, looking back at the Night Court High Lord.

“… I regret that I ever had sent (Y/N) to your Court, Rhysand,” his tone small and disappointed, “Her powers were wasted on you and your Court. A Seer taking their life, being betrayed by the people she called her family,” His head shaking, a laugh, one so loud and so sarcastic escaping his chest that it echoed in throne room, startling the other High Lords, making Rhysand flinch in his seat. “What a damn found family you made. Betraying one’s mate, betraying a person who had served you for five-hundred fucking years over a female who barely has control over her own powers.”

Amber eyes darted to Elain, as he watched her flinch back, hiding behind the eldest Archeron sister, “What prophecy have you seen now?” the sarcasm very evident in his tone, “Have you seen what (Y/N) has seen? Have you seen the resurrection of Kosechi, as well? Your powers are nothing compared to (Y/N)’s.”

“How dare you talk to someone in my Court like — -” Rhysand started.

“You have no right to challenge me in my own Court, Rhysand!” Helion bellowed, hands slamming on the table, standing up as he glared at his once-called friend, “Do you realize what you have done?! Do you realize why there hasn’t been a Seer in millennials? Why (Y/N) has been the only recorded Seer in the history of Pyrthian? Because Seers have been hunted — by Fae, humans and Gods alike. They are so sought after, for their power, for the knowledge, for their sight. Seers have the power to uncover what is hidden, lurking in the darkness. They are the very light that unveils the darkness. They have been hunted to be exterminated for that very power…”

It had been the very reason why Helion had taken you in when you were a child, guarded carefully in the Day Court. To ensure the prosper of your power, the prosper of your light.

Amber eyes darted around the table, eyes staring at the High Lords that had situated themselves in this very room, listening to his tale before they stared back at Rhysand, “You, being the powerfullest High Lord if all of Pyrthian should have known that. And now, her body, one filled with Unknown-God-and Cauldron bound powers is missing…”

A huff escaped his lips in exasperation as he sat down back into his seat, “Her body should be buried here, in my Court, where she rightfully belongs to. But, no. And none of us could properly pray respects for the loss of her light…”

It was no secret that Helion had a soft spot for you. You were like his child, raising you since you were small, watching you grow and become a bright light within the Day Court. He knew how your light felt, how he basked in it as if it was the sun that radiated overhead.

And so when he had woken up that night in cold sweat, feeling the vanishing of your light — he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

“… — Helion…” Feyre tentatively called out to him, “You said her body is Cauldron bound? What do you mean by that?”

The Day High Lord glanced at the High Lady, staring her down before he nodded his head once. Leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, “That’s what both myself and (Y/N) believe. (Y/N) is one the strongest Seers I have met in my life, those few Seers that I have encountered, ones that have wanted to remain hidden, are no match to (Y/N)’s powers. Your little Cauldon-Made Seer is no match for her either,” he sneered at the middle Archeron sister.

"There has been little records of Seers in Prythian, we all know that. Not even my libraries had enough information about them and their powers. But, despite that, (Y/N) was able to hone into her powers with little instructions… You know that she doesn’t just see the future, she was able to see what was happening now. She was able to focus on parts of Pyrthian and tell me what is and what will happen.

“But during the war with Hybern, much like when Nesta felt the Cauldron, (Y/N) felt it too. We didn’t know why, but we realized she and the Cauldron were somewhat connected. Whether it be the Cauldron was reason why she has her visions or if the Cauldron was the source of her power, they were bound. A natural connection between the two of them. And when the Cauldron broke, (Y/N) had told me she felt the Cauldron’s power sought refuge with her, as if the Cauldron sought her light.

“After the war, she had asked for my opinion — she felt the remnants of the Cauldron’s power tingling through her. She told me she saw more visions, visions of the far off future that she had no idea when would happen, and that her powers were starting to become out of her control. She was starting to lose herself in her powers, lose her mind to it… I didn’t know how to help her…”

The Inner Circle remembered, weeks after the end of the war, (Y/N) had asked if she could return to Day Court for a few weeks. Rhysand had let her, thinking it was not important. Azriel, too, didn’t question on her reason why she wanted to leave.

It was when they started to not care. When they started to focus their attention to Elain — the Seer that had defeated the King of Hybern.

Helion let out a broken laugh, staring at the Inner Circle, “I’m sure you never knew, did you? On how broken she started to be after the war. You never knew how her sleep was plagued with visions, that she couldn’t even close her eyes without images flashing behind them. Of how she sobbed in bed, wondering if she was in a dream or reality. She couldn’t differentiate anymore… And you…” eyes focusing on Azriel, “You never felt her pain because you put up a wall between your mating bond. Did you know, Azriel…”

The Day High Lord’s tone was seething, remembering those day.

“Did you know, how she cried for you? She begged down the bond for you to come and help. Wanting your protection, wanting to help sooth the pain she had felt? Wanting you just to be there? But all she could feel was the wall you placed, ignoring her… abandoning her when she needed all of you the most…

“I sent her back, hoping that all of you would help. I sent her back with sleeping tonics, hoping to help her with her sleep. Hoping that her family and mate would help her through her toughest time. Hoping that you all would see her. But I can see that never happened. That no matter how much she begged for you all to listen to her visions, to see her in pain, you ignored,” his voice was laced with anger, disappointment.

No one said a word. The air in the room tense and dense at the revelation that Helion lamented. No one knew of what you had gone through.

Azriel felt his his heart burn in his chest, as if his siphons were burning his skin — he felt the remnants of the broken mating bond in his chest, aching more at Helion’s words.

He didn’t know, he didn’t see, he didn’t feel the pain you were going through. He had ignored the tug of the bond when he had that wall up. He had been too infatuated with the middle Archeron sister, wanting her to feel belonged in their Court — all the while alienating the person who had been with him through thick and thin.

And, yet, he couldn’t do the same for you.

Bright blue eyes closed as Feyre silently mourned and apologized to the Heavens, to the night sky where you might have been.

But she realized on the implications of what had Helion had told them — that you might have been the Cauldron-bound object that Koschei needed to escape that lake.

She looked up at Rhysand, and he to her as they communicated down the bond. Both of them realizing what could happen.

The gesture wasn’t missed by Helion as he watched them, waiting for them to explain what they might have discovered. However, when they did not say anything, a growl escaped his chest.

“What is it?”

Feyre and Rhysand looked at the Day High Lord, hesitance shown in their features, “… It’s about what (Y/N) had told us. You all saw it in that memory…”

Helion thought, playing the memory back as he watched remembered your face, the anguish of your features shining through his head, listening to your words — your vision of what might pass.

“… That Koschei needed something from the Cauldron to be released from the lake,” Lucien pointed out from his spot next to Helion, the russete eye looking at Elain before back to Feyre.

“What if…” Tarquin mumbled, “…Koschei found (Y/N)’s body? If you and (Y/N) knew of the connection to the Cauldron, that the Cauldron sought her power. He could use her body to be freed from that lake.”

Helion looked at the Summer High Lord, amber eyes wide at the realization, “… If that were to come to pass, we would be doomed. (Y/N)’s body is probably soaked in Cauldron powers. It would be so easy for Koschei to be freed, and no one would ever notice. It is not impossible, but since (Y/N)’s body has disappeared, it is possible for her to have fallen into his clutches.”

Kallias, in the mist of the conversation, was watching, observing, the only remaining Seer in the room. He leaned forward, bright blue hues staring the Made-Fae, as he rested both arms on the table, “Have you had any visions?”

Heads turned towards the High Lord of Winter at his question. It did not phase him, as he continued, ”I heard from your High Lady that you rarely said anything about your visions, since the Cauldron broke. So do tell us, what have you seen about the Death-God?” If she had her powers still, a Seer would be still useful in this situation.

Elain visibly swallowed, as all attention was on her once more. Brown eyes frantically glanced around the table, over to her sisters and then to Azriel who both looked at her expectedly.

A heartbeat later, and the Middle Archeron sister knew that she couldn't lie.

She shook her head, “I have not seen anything… since the Cauldron broke…” her words nothing but a whisper in the wind.

It was as if a pin dropped on marble floors, the silence in the room was penetrating.

A laugh broke the silence. Eris’ shook his in disbelief on the drama they were hearing, “So you’re telling us, you have been lying about having your powers. And that (Y/N), who has actually seen those visions had taken her life?” he glared at the middle Archeron sister, “For what? Because you needed a position in the Night Court? So that you can gain the Spymaster’s affection? To bed him?”

Elain shook her head again, brown eyes desperate as she tried to catch eye with her family, with Nesta, who just looked away, brows furrowed with anguish, “… I just wanted to be useful…” she whispered in fear, slumping down in her chair, “My powers… were the only thing that made me feel like I belonged… But I didn’t have them, and… I just, didn’t want to lose my family.”

“And yet, you were willing to let (Y/N) lose her family, her mate… and her life. Just to keep your own,” Thesan expressed, "That selfishness will be the downfall of Pyrthian."

Elain flinched at the truth thrown onto her face, eyes down-casting, silence taking over her form.

Before anyone could reprimand Elain for her actions, the grand doors slammed open, a dark mist blowing throughout the room. Frightened and confused screams echoed through the room.

Helion stood up, using his power of light to dissipate the darkness that tried to cover the room. Amber eyes glowed as he watched as a cloaked figure float into the room.

Eyes watched the cloaked figure as it settled its form onto the floor, bare pale feet touching the marble.

“… I would think… that if the Pyrthian High Lords would gather… they would invite a God to their meeting. But I guess, manners do not exist in this world…” the voice was grating and brittle.

The hood swept, as if eyes inside were looking at all the High Lords that were now standing up, all attention to him.

A eerie chuckle escaped the hooded figure, spiny fingers grasping the edge before slipping it down. White hair and black eyes were revealed, pale, sickly skin glowed underneath the darkness that had surrounded him.

The figure bowed, a mocking gesture to the High Lords.

“It seems, that you are unaware of who you are being greeted by…” a boney finger raised up and pointed towards Nesta, the eldest sister stiffening, “Though I’m quite sure you do, dearest sister…” he grinned at her.

Nesta gulped and looked at the uninvited guest. She knew who would greet her like that — only the Death Caver has echoed the same words, “You’re Koschei… aren’t you…”

Koschei grinned wider, head tilting to the side as he stepped forward, laughing as the High Lords ready themselves for a battle with the Death-God.

“Oh don’t be so tense, my High Lords…” he mockingly commented, sweeping a hand, “Please sit… Do not stop your meeting for dear little old me. Though it is such an honor for you to do so.”

He rounded the table, eyes making contact with each of the High Lord, black eyes sweeping over their forms before he stopped before Rhysand.

Violet hues and black sockets stared at each other.

“Though I do have to thank you, High Lord of the Night… You have gifted me the precious gift of life. Though, it was through the loss of one of your own… You might have known her. Cared for her… Loved her…” Koschei looked at Azriel whose hazel eyes burned at the Death-God.

He let out a low laugh.

Tarquin’s assumption was right — the Death-God had used your body to free himself from the lake, right underneath their noses. No one felt it, no one knew. And it had been too late to do anything about it; months too late to prevent the resurrection, months too late to find your missing body, months too late of not listening to you.

Koschei looked behind him, far past the grand windows, the familiar cry of the bird of fire and ash echoing through the lands of Day Court, heading towards them — Vassa had come to stop the sorcerer-lord from his destruction.

However, before she landed on the balcony, an arrow, made of shadow and darkness struck her, causing the great bird to plummet to the land beneath her.

Lucien gasped and ran towards the balcony, peering down to see if the mortal queen had survived the fall; but there was no sign of the cursed queen anywhere below.

“What a dramatic entry by Vassa, as always…” Koschei said with a sigh, before another chuckle escaped his lips, dark eyes boring into the empty spot beside him, “Don’t you think… (Y/N)?”

All heads snapped towards the Deathless God, your name slipping from his lips, as they watched a swirl of darkness materialized a familiar figure. Azriel watched, hazel eyes wide as he took in your form, whisps of shadows that had whirled around you — his shadows, one that had abandoned him ever since your death.

“…(Y/N)…” Azriel whispered in disbelief, his voice shaking.

There you stood, next to the Death-God, very much alive.

Very much like a Death-God yourself.

And it echoed in your outfit — tendrils of shadow made up your dress, covering you from head to toe, fluttering near your feet as if a gown swayed by the wind. In your hands, a bow and arrow made of those shadows — the very bow that had struck Vassa down from her flight.

That was where Azriel’s shadows had gone to — leaving him, following you to your death, and making you someone completely different.

Someone that was going to be the downfall of Pyrthian itself.

Tagging: @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @setayeshmohseni, @kindasleepycryptid, @f4iry-bell, @woodland-mist, @kalulakunundrum, @topaz125, @thelov3lybookworm, @hnyclover, @harrystylesfan2686, @anuttellaa, @ithan-holstroms-girl, @judig92, @venuseuripedis, @fairywriter-oracle, @thehighlordishere, @acourtofbatboydreams, @willowpains, @historygreekqueen, @dr4g0ngirl, @ayme301, @kemillyfreitas, @crazylokonugget, @abysshaven, @michaelharrypotter, @naturakaashi, @kittenbi, @namelesssav, @guiltyreader, @awkardnerd, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @quackitysdrugdealer, @thesunloveschips, @brieflyclassymortal, @justdreamstars, @isa1b2h3, @himesuedi, @fxckmiup, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @t0uch-starved-h0e, @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #( .one shot : pushed to the edge )#acotar fanfic #azriel angst #helion acotar #eris vanserra #rhysand #feyre archeron

2K notes · View notes

evilgwrl · 2 months ago

Note

for educational purposes *cough cough* maybe you could show us an example of price's kinks demonstrated? idkkkk, like a fic displaying public play, with toys and praise...? for educational purposes ofc

this is one of my fave requests ever… hehe

Summary: Restaurant fun with Price involves dining out… and vibrators

CW: Public play with sex toys, praise, orgasms

Your thighs clamped together inside the restaurant, skin sticky with sweat and the evident arousal that leaked from your messy cunt. Your eyebrows darted together in a scrunched pose, wrinkles coiling into your forehead as you gripped the cutlery in the palm of your hands.

“Y’ alright, sweetheart?” John cooed, sick smile coaxing his features as he lapped in your evident frustration.

“T-Too much,” you squeaked, your voice barely loud enough for him to register what you were saying, but the desperation that leaked from you told him all he needed to know.

His fingers clicked against his phone screen, and for a moment you thought you were going to be put out of your misery, before you felt the vibrations against your clit grow even stronger, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as your fork clattered against the china plate.

It was all too much, your panties slick against your heat as you bit your lipstick-stained skin, nibbling the tender flesh between your teeth as you held in any noise.

“Look at the fucking sight of you, hm? Such a beautiful girl.”

“J-John, I can’t,” you whimpered, holding your thighs closer together as you jolted in the chair, your cleavage amplified as you attempted to compose yourself, nipples in stiff peaks under the silken material of your dress.

“You can handle it sweetheart, it’s nearly at 100%. You’re so close aren’t you? You gonna make a mess for me in public?”

You nodded, your head fuzzy with pleasure clouding your vision as you dug your nails into the fat of your thighs, tender flesh wounded with small marks as John turned the power of the vibrator up.

Your legs convulsed as you choked on the air, staring at him with anguished eyes and bitten lips, teeth lightly stained with your makeup. You spat out an expletive as dark blue eyes watched you, taking in every twitch, every soft flutter of your lashes.

The restaurant was lively, couples of all ages situated around you, sharing different stories and lives over an expensive bottle of wine. You were sure it was obvious what was happening to you, but in a sick way, it got you off even more. And it sure as hell got John off, large print of his cock strained against the fabric of his pants, tip leaking a fat pearl of precum.

“Good girl, taking it so well. I could just fuck you right here.” His tone was sultry, laced with want as he stared at you through hooded eyes, his voice a low pitch.

You could barely respond, the vibrations against your puffed clit convulsing ripples of pleasure through every vein, every tendon, every muscle of your body.

“Take your panties off and give them to me,” he demanded, reaching out to grab at your hand across the table, stroking it with faux affection as your eyes widened.

“H-Here? What if someone sees?”

Price smiled, a sickly cloud glazing over his eyes as he nodded. You hesitated, looking around the room before lifting your hips slightly, frustrated fingers hooking the soaked panties down the plush of your thighs, over your knees, and past your ankles as you lifted them from your shoes as discreetly as possible, slipping them into his course palms.

A satisfied grin found a way to his face as he praised you with a simple, “that’s my good girl”.

Somehow, the lack of panties only added to the immense pleasure as your hips rutted against the chair, your slick most likely pooling at the plush underneath your behind.

A string of expletives seeped through your tongue as you gripped onto John’s hands, your panties now tucked away in his breast pocket as he watched you with a sharp expression, eyes lapping over ever inch of you.

You could feel the coil building, the pressure tensing in your stomach as you gripped a napkin, shoving it between your lips. Cerulean eyes glared into yours before your own fluttered shut, the pleasure expanding in your belly snapping, a rough whine settling between the cotton shoved in your mouth.

Your clit convulsed against the vibrations of the silicone toy, breasts shaking as you muffled sweet noises, begging John to slow the pace as the strength of your orgasm washed over you, the nectar the Captain loved gushing from your aching cunt as he brought a palm to your cheek, rubbing affectionately.

“You did so well, honey. Let’s get you home so I can reward you.”

#evilgwrl #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #captain price x you #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #price smut #price x reader #price cod #john price #price

450 notes · View notes

touretticeddiemunson · 9 months ago

Text

Steddie with those tap vibration bracelets for couples | Angst with a surprise ending

—

Eddie had been dead for over a year. After Dustin had to leave him in the Upside Down, they tried to look for him. But Eddie’s body was just…gone. Steve didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. No one thought he would have a reason to. No one knew what they did behind closed doors, hands under each other’s shirts, lips moving together.

Steve was the one who had the idea to get tap bracelets in the first place. They were something you could keep hidden, in your pocket or on your wrist under a long sleeve. Whenever they were thinking about each other, they could tap the bracelet and it would vibrate the other person’s. It started as a cute gesture but it soon turned to a feature they used for survival going into the Upside Down.

“Tell me when you’re okay. 1 tap for safe, 2 for danger. Okay?”

“Steve, I could do Morse code. I know SOS.”

“Eddie, there won’t be time. Please, just follow the system.”

But Eddie didn’t follow the system. He didn’t fucking follow it, and instead of running he tried to be a goddamn hero. He didn’t tap the bracelet before he went after the bats, didn’t tell Steve he was in danger.

Steve would never forget the scream of absolute anguish as the bats tore into Eddie’s flesh. He knew the sound came from him. He knew his voice backwards and forwards. He would never forget the rapid vibrations on his wrist in the moments before he heard Dustin yell.

In that moment, he knew his Eddie was gone. Eddie had spent his last moments, his last spurts of energy thinking of Steve. Letting Steve know he loved him, that he was always with him.

Steve hadn’t taken off the bracelet ever since, not even to shower. He kept it right on his wrist, covered with saran wrap like you’d bag a cast. He never wanted to be separated from him. He knew that he’d never be able to feel Eddie’s touch again, but bracelet’s presence was enough to keep the grief at bay. Every now and then, he’d touch it a few times. Hoping, praying Eddie’s soul could feel it. He never told the party about him and Eddie’s relationship. Never opened up, really, about what they were to each other.

No one understood why he had shut down after Vecna was defeated. They assumed it was because he was mentally and physically exhausted. But it was so much more than that. It was grief. He’d lost his person, he was sure that Eddie had been the one. And he lost him. The only person he ever told was Robin.

He came out to the party as bisexual about a year after Eddie’s death, but it didn’t ring a bell for any of them still. Not even Dustin, who had always been suspicious of his and Eddie’s closeness.

Years went by and he still hadn’t taken off the bracelet, even though was with someone new. They had only been together a few days before Steve called it off. It had taken so long to get over losing Eddie, but something deep inside of him chewed. And chewed.

Something just didn’t feel right about this new person. It wasn’t her fault, Steve just couldn’t do it.

One night, Steve stayed awake a little longer than he normally did, reading some book series Eddie had left in his room before all the shit went down, Lord of the Rings.

His attention was drawn away by a buzzing feeling against his wrist. He looked down at it to see the gold bracelet lighting up and vibrating. He put the book down and hesitantly tapped back. This couldn’t be happening. Not after all these years. Something in the Upside Down must have gotten ahold of the bracelet. But nothing could have prepared Steve for what he felt next. Sharp, punctuated taps. He focused, hard, trying to figure out what it meant. He eventually made it out. It was Morse code, 3 letters, repeating themselves over and over.

“S. O. S.”

Eddie was alive, and he needed help.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson lives #eddie munson is alive #morse code saves the day #the only morse code eddie knows is sos #steve and eddie are idiots

1K notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 4 months ago

Text

"like i can" (m)

a/n: maybe ill fix it up with a banner after but for now i just need yall to see the vision

w.c. 1.6k

warning: fratboy!chan x older working adult fem!reader dynamic, ex's younger brother, mommy kink, switch!chan, a lot of dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessive chan, oral (giving and rec), praise kink, exchanging cum, probably grammar mistakes

Tagging @the-boy-meets-evil @dirtysvthoughts @okiedokrie @kwanisms @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wonustars @sluttyminghao for those who was there that helped me or brain rotted me ily and hopefully I didn’t miss anyone

You swore off men. Anyone with a dick would be off limits. Especially Lee men. After your last relationship, dick truly fucked up any potential future relationship for you.

So why the fuck were you on your knees? You had no excuse being there, no excuse for sucking dry your ex-boyfriend’s younger brother. No matter how hot and sweaty he looks after coming home from the gym. You were just there to drop off his asshole brother’s things. And maybe have that lemonade he was offering. And surely lemonade is not code for a mouth full of frat boy dick like when you were in college.

Yet somehow.

“Shit…this is so…wrong…” As Lee Chan fought you off with his words, his hands decidedly thread through your hair, locking his soft kind eyes with you as your lips wrapped around his cock and slobbering over his length that was a surprisingly pleasant size.

“He’s gonna fucking hate me,” he whined, only for his hips to softly piston in your mouth.

Your moans vibrated against his skin, sending waves of nerves throughout his body. Chan was irrevocably enthralled by you and always has been when his brother introduced you to his family for the first time, but never in all his years did he imagine he’d have you in such a position. In any position really.

The corner of your lips stretched to your ears, licking a long thick stripe up his shaft before cradling his cock against your face. “Do you want to stop, pretty boy?”

His lips parted to speak only to close back up, pressing them into a firm line before another moan escaped through them as you kissed his bulging veins. The whites of his nails piercing the leather of the couch he was pinned against as his eyes fell shut, muttering a mantra of apologies for his older brother missing in action.

“You’re such a good boy to worry about your brother. He’s so lucky to have you,” you complimented as you stroked him around a clenched fist.

Chan shook his head, a remorseful frown on his face. “Definitely not a good enough one,” he managed to mutter.

“But look, you’re letting your brother’s ex girlfriend suck your cock but all you can think about how he’d feel. You’re such a good boy.” Your nails claw down his bare torso, from his heaving pectoral to to his clenched abdomen. Someone above put a test in front of him and he was failing. “And too good of a brother.”

He swallowed a lump down your throat, feet glued to the ground, stooping his knees from completely giving out. “This…shouldn’t have happened…it shouldn’t be happening—“

“Then why don’t you stop me?”

He exhaled a shallow breath. “You know why I can’t.”

“Dumb it down for me why don’t you?”

“Fuck,” he buried his reluctance in the back of his throat, hips leaning towards you before they shifted, gaining momentum. “It’s you, that’s why.”

“Me?” You chuckled before putting him back in your mouth, squeezing around his girth.

His hands found claim back on your hair before losing control of his morals, no longer tiptoeing around eggshells and instead crushing them along his path. “Yes, you.”

Your eyes dilate a centimeter too wide when his tense expression melts into one of acceptance, then determination as his body relaxed into your warmth and plummeted down your throat. “It’s always…been you.”

He could no longer resist your advances, letting out a groan of anguish as he emptied in your mouth, cradling the crown of your head to his groin as his stream poured inside of you, his hips faltering as he the white disappear past your lips. Tapping against his hips, he released you mercilessly, ensuing the coughing and the gagging that inevitably came. “You…dirty boy,” you chided, face warm and throat sore.

He softly scoffed, before picking you up from the ground and smashing his lips against yours. “If you’re not holding back than neither should I…Mommy.”

“Mommy?” You grinned.

“Too much?”

“Oh, baby boy. Not at all.” You threw your arms around him, languidly moving your lips, and letting the taste of his own cum penetrated Chan’s senses, only enticing him more. “Lay it all out for mommy. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He gingerly nodded, hand caressing your face with an inspired smile. “Yes, anything. Anything mommy wants, I can do.”

“What do you want, baby?”

He sighed. “I want to taste Mommy.”

“You do, don’t you,” your kiss him playfully, grinding against his cock, feeling him grow under your touch. “Show me how much you want it.”

“Mmh, I want it,” he lifted you off the ground before moving you back toward the dining table planting you flat against the dining table. “I’ll show Mommy exactly how much I want it.”

He tugged off your skirt, flashing your wet panties practically drenched in your anticipation. You heard him take a sharp breath, already inhaling that scent that he knows was now forever ingrained into every wrinkle of his brain.

“You look like you’re about to eat me alive, baby,” You mused.

“And Mommy would be right.”

He pulled you by the legs, emitting a small yelp, before all you could feel was his mouth on your clothed cunt, sucking your wetness through your lace, and his moans against you, living and breathing inside you. Your hands reach either edge of the table before started riding his face, erupting his giggles, “I get to taste mommy’s pussy…I’m fucking dreaming.”

“Mmh, Chan,” you moaned, your fingers pressing into his head and feeling his tongue explore you like the new world.

“Mommy…” he parted your panties to the side, tasting until it’s only raw heat on his tongue and he swallowing every drop.

“Baby like mommy’s pussy?”

You felt him nod. “Mommy’s pussy is perfect…need her cum in my mouth.”

“Work for it, baby.” You laughed.

“Yes, Mommy.”

If Chan’s mouth was law, you’d be a follower. You embraced every caress, every stroke, every thrust of his tongue. The ‘fuck me’ eyes that stared back at you as he ruined you like rain on parade. You braced on the table, hips taking his face, walls fluttering, and breathing in staggering breaths. “Oh my god,” you spoke as if confessing sin, “I’m gonna cum.”

Chan could not stop himself, and what was between your legs became safe haven. You rode his face until you saw stars, planets, whatever the galaxy offered, while Chan’s name echoed throughout the room and bounced off the walls.

He clamped his grip on your hips, fusing himself to you and tasting your climax flood his gums with the sensation of every twitch of your thighs. As soon as they faltered, he found your lips, mixing your cum in his mouth with remnants of his cum in yours, both swallowing betrayal that’s been long forgotten the moment Chan laid eyes on a freshly single you. “Taste that, mommy? Taste good that pretty pussy of yours is?”

“Baby…”

You tugged on his hair, grinding your hips against him and feel that cock slide against your pussy lips and thinking about how you both were still so close yet so far.

You needed it. You needed Chan. You need to feel him stretch you out fuck the shit out of you. You needed him to ruin you on this stupid family dining room table that humiliates you now that the person that introduced you has put an end to things on his own terms. You were gonna get closure your way and no other way.

“I want baby’s cock in me…”

Chan smiles, hands tracing over your curves and lines. “Mommy, are you asking or are you telling?”

“I’m demanding.”

His smile was only more radiant after your tone shift, positioning himself exactly where he needed to be. “Anything for you, Mommy.”

It’s big. It’s thick. But after the feast Chan had, he was sliding through you with ease, testing the limits of your endurance as he vanished inside you. Your voice gave out, hands planting on either of his shoulders as he took you by the hips to drag you against him across the table.

You rest your forehead against his. “Baby...”

“That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good, baby. Your pretty cock pushing in and out my cum.”

He groaned, his hands moving to squeeze your hips, “Mommy, your mouth—”

“Filthy hmm? Like your cock fucking my mouth or how your tongue tasted my pussy?”

He moaned, against your lips, pounding you against him so desperately the table shook and it was a study table from your experience. “Your talking is gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Good because it’s all I want: baby’s cum in mommy’s pussy, squirting your fat load inside of Mommy…Make Mommy yours.”

“Mommy, you’re killing me.”

Your nails ran down his back, pleased. Lips tasting the salt in his sweat, and your breath cooling the heat of his flushed neck. “Mommy just wants you to empty out in her, fuck her better than anyone else has.”

“Better than anyone else…like my brother?” He asked in gentle reluctance.

“Would that be hard for you? You think you can’t fuck me like your brother would?”

Violently, he shook his head. “No,” his hips take flight and a moan cracked out of your lips. “I don’t think anyone would fuck Mommy like I can. Especially my brother.”

“Yeah?” You clenched around his biceps. “You gonna make me forget what he feels like?”

“I’ll make you forget his name.”

“Chan…”

“Mommy won’t remember nobody’s name but mine.”

You don’t remember when it was that you arrived at this house but you’d soon realize when you’d come. And come. And come.

And come until Chan was empty, or at least until someone finally came home. But it was the weekend. Your ex was out of town and so was his parents.

So who the fuck knows when that is.

#svthub #dino smut #lee chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen dino #seventeen #lee chan #seventeen x reader

542 notes · View notes

samodivaa · 10 months ago

Text

Lust looks pretty on you

Bucky x Reader : One Bed Trope. But he is your crush and his body is too close. He can't tell that you are masturbating, right...?

Warnings - soft smut, masturbation Words - 2.5k AN - I want to make a filthy version as well, but this felt just right.

Somehow you cannot help being reminded of a him, you look at him with compassion, sometimes with sympathy—though suddenly in one instant he becomes, as though by chance, lovely and exquisite, you can’t comprehend the power of those pensive eyes flashing with such fire—between the shadow and your soul, you love him, feelings can’t be repressed. But sometimes his eyes, his soft features burn with anguish and you grieve, in silence, that his beauty fades—your eyelashes glisten with tears Bucky never knows of.

When he comes close to you, there is already a gleam of a smile on your lips, faintly blushing and looking down.

“There is a room, but it has only one bed” he says uneasily. “I am okay with that” you say with an indescribable gesture, a gravest face, but your heart begins throbbing. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” Bucky speaks timidly in an ingratiating voice. “I assure you” you say in a whisper, full of affection, eyes beaming with delight as you take his human hand.

Finishing your answer, you pause pathetically, because there is an intense desire to force yourself to laugh, already feeling that a malignant demon is stirring inside, making you imagine curtain scenarios and suddenly there is a lump in your throat. You are always so tender, so solicitous with him—your soul is full with loving sympathy. “I can sleep on the floor-” Bucky begins in a plaintive voice, in which there lies a hope, though a very faint one and bends his head. “No, I would never allow that” He is looking at you intently, while a strange curiosity gleams in yours. Bucky stops, with his mouth open, because he can’t speak for delight as you continue to hold his hand. Your lips are quivering and you try to say something as well, but can only convulsively squeeze Bucky's hand in silence. You continue to look affectionately at him as a smile passes over his lips. “Okay” he brings out at last.

When you enter the hotel room, you say tragically “Oh, the bed is small” Your eyes meet, he is gazing at you with a sort of wonder that evidently surprises you. Then, he tilts his head, his thin lips threatening to break into a smile

“But we will manage!”

You say briskly, quick to add to the previous statement, and, indeed, on the mad idea that flashes on your giddy brain—you will take a long shower in the hopes that he will fall asleep. That position is desperate, but you are hot with shame, because he keeps staring at you, grasping at once that you might be up to some mischief. Bucky always does that—studies every gesture, every movement you make, listens to every vibration of your rich voice, but strange to say, as the result of all his observations tonight, he feels, mixed with a sweet and timid impression, a feeling of intense curiosity. It seems as though he is on the verge of uncovering the mystery of your unusual behavior. But with your masterly acting, trying to keep you together, the whole process goes on in you unconsciously as you approach the other side of the bed in wide steps after having closed the door behind and sit on the mattress. You have purposely chosen this solitary spot, your eyes facing the wall. “You go shower first, I want to call my mom” Bucky grows suddenly confused, and a faint trace of vexation is betrayed in his impatient movement and he is glad that you can’t see it, but he remains quiet, in his heart there is a sort of haunting worry—are you scared of sleeping next to him? Is it because of his nightmares? He is irritated, boiling with indignation and hate, towards himself, for it is the first time that he has felt like that in your presence. Feelings so coarsely handle him—he is reminded of what he truly is.

The sound of running water echoes as he decides to go and turn the faucet on, adjusting it to a comforting warmth. Heaven. He winces as his back is met with hot water, swapping through his hair, through the curls and then running in streams down his shoulders, muscles protesting with each movement, but the warmth provides a reprieve from the ache that is a companion throughout the whole night. Bucky is analyzing the situation while he showers. His heart leaps and shudders when he exits the bathroom, but he is thankful that you are still talking on the phone so he lays on his side in despair and misery, hiding his face in the pillow, and is alternately feverish and shivery—he will make sure not to sleep, because his mind is too frightened by the the idea of scaring you with his nightmares, in his exhausted state all the emotions of the day come back to him in a rush. Whatever lies hidden in both your secret and behavior, he understands, but it causes moments of anguish of which he won’t forget. You longed to cheer him up, to relieve his anxiety if only by a glance, but when you see him sleeping, you tip-toe to the bathroom as Bucky lays with his eyes shut. When you come back into the room, his eyelashes quiver, but he controls himself and does not open his eyes. Was he that tired? When you begin pulling up the quilt over you, shame or some other feeling drowns him, wishing to hide from this moment, but he can’t fall asleep so he persisted in lying in bed in silence as you obstinately pull the blanket higher and higher.

A terrible, awful weakness overcomes your senses, you try to lay with your eyes closed, because desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving and you can’t master your need for him—that realization leaves you rather embarrassed, and at once flush crimson. This feels all so humiliating, and then you make that blunder, a very important one—you think about pleasuring yourself. That’s just what makes you so ecstatic, that you have a presentiment.... and though it’s so dreadful, it’s all for the best. In fact, you believe nothing better could have happened, because this is once in a life's opportunity. Involuntarily, you find your eyes scouring the darkness, looking for the outline of his bulky body, but you can only feel the warmth radiating from it. You move your fingers slowly and strainedly, working your way down your torso and swallow when you reach your panties as your nipples harden, poking through your shirt. You swiftly pull your panties to the side, strings of your wetness part from your underwear and you realize—there is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You breathe meekly and squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, because you hate the notion of being reduced to pleasuring yourself merely because of his close proximity, an embarrassing, desperate thing to do, but even so you keep on gently touching yourself.

You begin sliding your index finger between the folds of your entrance, it makes you shiver and your mouth slightly hangs open, heat rushing to your puffy cheeks, eyes halfway shut. The magic that coils through your own touch leaves you breathless, and your back arches a bit into the sensation as a strange euphoria. You struggle slightly to stay motionless, the other hand trails down to your breasts to squeeze them slightly, purposely avoiding your nipples for now. You use the gathered wetness and press your finger firmly against your clit, making your thighs twitch. A sinner who sins boldly—but that makes you freeze. And yes, you have a sordid soul in many ways, but on the contrary, it is full of a fine feeling—of love for him. You are anxious, worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want —but what if that movement woke him up? What if he somehow knows?

You start to rub slow circles around your clit as you tilt your head to his side, taking a shallow breath in through your nose. You are so aware of your sin that you fully cherish it and your imagination is a wonderful thing, it allows for all manner of undiscoverable thoughts —will he rub your clit like that? Maybe he will eat you out and moan into your cunt as he devours it? The soft flesh of your inner thighs ripples just a little as your legs shake, even though you try to control it, your chest heaves up and down just by thinking about it. You knead violently at the flesh of your right breast, pinching and flicking at your own nipple as you stimulate yourself. Then something unexpected happens. He sneezes. “Sorry” he says quietly, distinctly. It feels like you are caught, tried, and condemned to death. “Bucky? Bless you” you talk with as much composure as you can. And he was not supposed to hear, because It's a horribly private moment, a vulnerable moment on your part and he should be sleeping.

“Are you—” begins Bucky, but pauses in confusion. “No-” you interrupt suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off your tongue while a deep blush suffuses your face. “Because I am” He is jerking off—? Well he was sliding across the painfully erect cock slowly through the fabric, making sure he didn't cum. His tone is so natural and respectful that you can't possibly suspect him of any insincerity. He feels instinctively that some such well-sounding humbug, brought out by him, will soothe your worries, and will be specially acceptable to you in such a delicate position. It is clear from his radiant face that he considers his words for the right ones in this moment, despite you not seeing his features in the darkness. Bucky gets up on his elbows, there is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive need, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state. His hard dick twitches and arousal trickles down his spine, because of his own confession. You feel him shift on the bed and he turns on the light on his nightstand.

His eyes narrow until they have faint darkish glitter. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he stares at your face, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze.

You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you turn to stare at his blue orbits—but you are fantasizing right now—which is utterly inappropriate for the part of your mind which wants to just hug Bucky all day long. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks innocently as he shamelessly stares—swallowing you whole. Slowly, you nod. He pushes off the blanket and your gaze drops to the outline of his cock, pushing up his heart into his throat—your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners.

And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear and before you can even blink, he is on top of you, lips ghost over your earlobe. His hot mouth is breathing into your skin, your chest is pressed against his and he can feel the swell of your breasts through your shirt. You gasp as you feel his broad chest and toned abdomen holding you down as the hard bulge in his boxers rubs deliciously against your clothed pussy lips. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary—he kisses your neck, lips, cheeks, worships your skin, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat. He doesn't want just sex—he seeks passion. “Bucky-”

You keen between short breaths, between his gentle kisses as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. He rips your panties down with his metal hand and then reaches into his own to help his cock spring free. Drop of precum lands on your abdomen as he runs his thumb over the veins that run along the underside, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering the wetness before moving his fingers in front of your face. He gently rubs your lower lip, a finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. “God, baby girl” he growls in your ear as his fingers brush up your soaking cunt “You look so innocent yet you were mastrubating right next to me” he goes on as he runs the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting your slick. Your eyes are pinched shut, lips parted ever so slightly, panting softly, a rosy flush coloring your cheeks. If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, of his words, the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be—you are shameless, he thinks, swallowing the guttural groan that escapes him. You moan when he puts his fingers in his mouth, feverishly licking them, tasting you.

He is eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he runs back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. It is a slow, torturous process as your cunt stretches around him, accommodating his girth. Love is something he wants to nurture and grow, a connection that exists within each one of you—he has not missed a single one of your gestures, not one of the indications of your body and now it occurs to him that your eyes themselves have the color of love, they speak the language of both emotions and pleasure.

He breaks the intense eye contact to attack your neck, sucking and lightly biting on your weakest spot. Never have you been more aroused than, more needy as you continue to be relished by him by cock inside of you. "You are so bold sometimes. It's why I love you" he smiles against your hot skin, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find you. Whiny, stranded pleads leave your lips. His words are so sweet in comparison to the filthy trusts. His lips find yours as he feels you getting closer and he pushes you farther to the edge as he begins to fondle with your clit, your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. You clenching around him—shuddering against him, as an orgasm washes over his own body. Bucky lose himself in your eyes—in the vocabulary of them as the pleasure goes through your body. The words became unnecessary. He made you feel loved.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #one bed trope

1K notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 8 months ago

Text

Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.

I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then

Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.

I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:

I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.

He agreed, so I left.

I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.

But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!

Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)

I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"

The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)

I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."

I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.

Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."

"What fire?"

He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)

And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.

When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.

I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)

The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.

I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.

#crawling along

1K notes · View notes

may-stuff · 19 days ago

Text

tw: oral sex (m), curse words (both in english and spanish), descriptions of intimate body parts, reader has a vagina but nothing about her appearance is specified. minors DNI.

The music coming from the outside is muffled by the sweet sounds leaving his parted lips. The space in the bathroom stall is reduced but you couldn't care less, because all you need at this very moment is to stay close to each other as much as you can.

Franco moans softly as your lips work against his neck. You kiss, bite and lick the skin there, then repeat the process once you've finished, and the sounds he makes encourage you to keep going.

You know he's impossibly hard already because you've felt him in the dance floor, when after dancing for what felt like hours, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you against him. The friction between your bodies so delicious that it didn't take long for you to feel his hard erection against your ass. You've been teasing him since that very moment and now, half an hour later, none of you can keep waiting any longer.

You wish you could do more than this, and maybe later you will, in the commodity of your own bed. But right now, the need to feel him forces you to fall on your knees in front of him. You waste no time in pulling his pants and underwear down. When you come face to face with his throbbing cock, you moan shamelessly.

You will never get tired of this, of him. Everything about him is simply perfect, but his dick- long and thick enough to make you feel so full every time he's inside of you, it doesn't matter in which way. The mere sight of it makes you shiver in anticipation.

"You're so fucking hard." You whimper as you stroke him a few times. In response he bites and licks his lips, looking you from above with an expression on his face that has you closing your legs to soothe the ache between them.

Franco is breathing heavily, desperate to feel your mouth around him. And when he does feel it, when your sweet lips wrap around the tip of his dick, he can't help the deep groan that leaves his throat. He can feel, too, the vibration of your own sounds and that alone is enough to make him grab your hair in a handful, throwing your head back and making you look at him.

"Slowly." He says. "Make it last."

You nod, eyes pleading for him to let you go so you can resume your actions. Instead, with his grip still on your hair, he guides your head back to him, another deep groan sounding inside the bathroom stall as your lips wrap around his cock again. The first thing you do is to move your tongue against his sensitive skin, suckling the red, throbbing head and making him curse under his breath.

The taste of his cock on your tongue is delicious. Salty and a little musky due to the sweat, but he still smells good and tastes heavenly.

"So fucking good." He moans, looking at you. "Look at that. You love it, don't you? Taking my cock inside that pretty mouth of yours..." he moves his hips forward, sinking himself in your throat. "Just like the little whor you are."

His words only encourage you to keep going. Moaning again with his dick in your mouth, you take more of him, all of him, until you can feel it deep in the back of your throat. You hold him there for a few long seconds, feeling him throbbing as you do everything you can to keep still. He keeps cursing under his breath, saying things that make your head feel dizzy.

When you can't take him anymore due to the lack of oxygen, you let him go. His dick leaving your mouth makes you feel some sort of anguish because you want him there all the time, but you know you need to breathe to keep going. So, as you try to recover, you stroke his cock with both of your hands. All Franco can do in response is moan and whimper as your soft hands spread the mixture of his precum and your saliva all over the length of his member, making it look more appetizing than before if that's even possible.

The look on your eyes denotes pure hunger and that makes him let out a breathless laugh. When your breathing comes back to normal after a few moments, Franco grabs his own dick on his right hand and brings it closer to your parted lips, painting them with his precum. That mere action makes you rub your thighs together again as you feel your own arousal coating your underwear.

"You're desperate." He taunts. "So fucking desperate for my dick. You love it, huh?"

You nod in response but that isn't enough for him.

"Say it." He commands.

You whimper.

"I love your dick. I love it so much!”

He drags the tip against your lips once again and this time you part them. Before he sinks himself inside your mouth you manage to plea,

"Fran, please. Please, fuck my face..."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Soon he's using you only for his own pleasure, just as he knows you want. For a long moment in which his dick keeps sliding in and out of your warm, wet mouth, your hands stay limp resting on your thighs. All you can think about is relaxing your muscles to let him take you more easily, to make him feel as good as you can. And by the looks of it you're succeeding because now his moans are more frequent and louder, his face is flushed and sweat is dripping down over his forehead. He looks so incredibly handsome, so virile, that it makes the ache between your legs unbearable.

As he keeps fucking your face, your saliva and his precum dripping down your chin, your right hand travels under your dress and your underwear. You waste no time in letting your own fingers roam over your labia, which is wet as you expected, but when you take your digits inside, deeper, you moan again at the feeling of your drenched pussy. Your own arousal coates your hand and drips onto the dirty floor of the bathroom and you wish Franco could see it, you wish he could see how horny he makes you.

“You’re soaked, aren’t you?” He laughs again, words coming out between breaths. “Sos una puta, una puta que ama mi verga, ¿no? Sos adicta.”

You wish you could answer him but his cock inside your mouth and your own fingers in your pussy don’t let you. Everything feels too much and by the sounds he makes and the faster his thrusts get, you know he’s about to cum. You wish you could keep doing this forever but the idea of letting him cum inside your mouth is stronger than any wish and that’s why you decide to move your head faster, taking him as much as you can, and when your fingers start massaging his balls you know it’s the end for him.

Franco cums hard, thick spurts of semen going down your throat, filling you up completely. The taste of it on your tongue can’t be defined as tasty but something inside you makes you drink every drop, even the ones that were spilled outside your lips and down your chin. When you pull away from him and wipe those drops off with your fingers, you proceed to suck them as you maintain eye contact with him, doe eyes looking so innocent as you suck your fingers dry of his cum. He curses something in Spanish and you giggle.

“Delicious…” you purr, still looking at him in the eyes.

He wastes no time grabbing you by the arms and forcing you to stand up. Once you’re face to face he kisses you hard, tasting himself on your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He grunts and you laugh again.

“It’ll be a beautiful death, huh?” You tease him as you help him pull his pants and underwear up again. As you work on his zipper, you playfully squeeze his cock through the fabric of his clothes.

Franco frowns at you, faking annoyance, and then smiles mischievously.

“You’ll be punished for that, missy.”

You laugh again.

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

a/n: here's somethig to feed you, my darlings! long fics are the death of me and I know they take me too long, so I wanted to give you a little blurb tonight. hope you like it!

#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 one shot #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto

277 notes · View notes

fanfiction4sooya · 7 months ago

Text

On edge (Sana x Fem! Reader)

Just wanted to try this quick silly writing out and wrote this in a few minutes so... yeah, hope you like it! 💖💖💖

cw: heavy edging, a bit of anguish, thigh slapping, dacryphilia (duh), fingering, squirt drinking, a bit of spit play, lots of praises, recording, corruption kink, not proofread, etc.

Minors and men, do not interact.

"Hold your knees up for me pretty girl" Sana husked, her chocolate eyes dark as you sniffled, tears of agony streaming down your face.

You always wanted her to teach you all the things she could because she is basically a sex goddess, you knew she had a lot to say on the matter, but boy you were in trouble when you found out about edging.

She was holding your orgasm for hours now, the sun was still shining out the hotel window when she started that torture and now you could see the stars whenever you glanced out the window. Not that you had much time for that, since she manipulated your body in such ways you didn't have time to process anything.

You sobbed, body twitching and trembling while your hands held the back of your knees, bringing them up to your chest and holding them slightly apart for her as you found support on the pillows behind you, your wet puffy cunt fully on display much for her liking. She smiled, turning on a small vibrator as you kept crying, your heart thumping inside your chest.

"Mommy" you cried out when she spat on your clit, the smile getting wider as she saw your hole clench, eager to taker her, anything she wanted to give you.

"Jesus darling, you should see this" She grabbed her phone on the night stand, quickly turning the camera on to record how your body reacted to her touches. "Look how pretty you look for me" Her voice sounded lustful, as steady as she could giving the fact that edging you also meant she would hold her orgasm for later since you mattered more on this.

She touched the vibrator to your clit and your small 'aah' made her shiver, her breath hitch. You closed your eyes, hands going from your knees to your pussy lips, spreading them for her, the lustful actions caught on camera. She leaned down to kiss you, kiss your tear stained cheeks, spitting on your tongue an watching you eagerly swallow .

"too good mommy plea-" you closed your knees, covering your face with them and she was quick to slap your thigh as hard as she could, making you wince.

"Don't cover your face again" she sounded harsh. You knew Sana never liked repeating herself and you nodded, puffy eyes and a pout on your pretty lips. "Good girl, baby" She pressed the vibrator back to your pussy, holding it to your slit and your eyes rolled back in your skull.

"Don't cum yet, hold a bit longer princess" She leaned down to kiss you, her tongue roaming inside your mouth in a much needed sloppy kiss, letting her phone fall to the bed.

"Please mommy I can't" you cried out, pulsing so hard that your ears were ringing.

"You can baby, just one more thing and we are done" She whispered against your lips, grabbing the phone back up. "hold it on your clit honey" She said softly and your shaky hands did as she told you, almost unable to do it.

She smiled, dipping one finger in your hole, watching your mouth slightly open. Sana liked it, no, loved how you were ever so gullible, so innocently trying to fit into her little games. She loved that even when every fiber of your being was telling you to run, all you wanted to do was stay; trapped, embraced in her soft words, praises and in that rush of adrenaline she gave you every time the words 'Let's try' left her lips.

She pressed her finger deeper, knuckles deep and your entire body shook, the tears rolling on your cheeks only added fuel to her lust.

"I'm gonna fuck you harder now sweetie, don't let the vibrator go" She commanded and you released a relieved moan, biting hard on your lower lip.

"yes mommy, thank you, t-thank you mo-" You didn't finish the sentence.

You felt two more fingers being added into your soaked slit, the three of them easily fitting. If Sana stopped to think for one little moment she could see you could take her whole fist but that could wait for another opportunity, one thing at a time.

The anguish, that heavy feeling of being forced to hold your orgasm was gone as soon as she sped up pace. The build up was worth it, you couldn't hear anything anymore but you were sure she told you to cum and so you did. Hard.

Harder than you ever did.

You screamed loud enough for the whole floor to hear how good Minatozaki Sana fucked you, doing your best to hold the vibrator against your clit, finally reaching the peak she made you work so hard for. Her fingers kept hitting the same spot over and over, releasing a wave of arousal every time; you managed to open your eyes enough to see her lower her mouth to your pussy while her fingers kept working, sucking your clit and drinking every drop of your squirt she could possibly catch.

Pulling her fingers out she kept grinding her face on the whole length of your soaked pussy. It felt like forever as if that feeling would never die down, as if the roller coaster could only go up.

"mommy" You cried out, feeling your body shutting after a while of her sucking on your clit,cleaning you up.

She promptly got to your side, kissing your lips and hugging you close. You couldn't feel much but the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks was warm and she kept rubbing her thumb on your cheek to catch every single one of them, hushing you and swaying you in her arms.

"Shh, it's okay" Her strong arms pulled you onto her, her sweaty body warm against yours. "You did so good baby, it's okay" As she kissed your forehead you felt your eyes heavy. "Thank you for your patience, darling" She kissed your lips and you smiled, really proud of yourself.

"did I really do a good job?" you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep as your body trembled ever so slightly.

Sana nuzzled her nose against yours, watching your sleepy form.

"So good that you deserve an award..." She whispered against your lips. "...but that can wait until you wake up" She proudly said, holding you harder until you fully rest in her arms.

#gxg smut #twice smut #sana smut #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana smut #sana x fem reader

547 notes · View notes

kdogreads · 1 year ago

Text

Stress Relief

Carmen Berzatto x f!reader

TW: piv, SOFTY SOFT SMUT, but smut nonetheless — minors DNI I swear, fluffy sweet talk, so many pet names, cursing bc it’s Carmy, size kink and praise kink

AN: This is my first Carmy fic 🤤 Let me know what other shenanigans you want him and the reader to get up to 🤪🥰

The door slamming shut startled you out of your thoughts, jolting you away from the book you were previously lost in.

“Baby?” Carmy’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“In here,” You called back, sliding your make-shift bookmark - an old gas station receipt Carm emptied out of his pocket - in between the pages.

He turned the corner into your bedroom where he found you lounging comfortably on the bed. The stress was written all over his face. His brows pulled together as he ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Come here, baby,” You quickly slid down to the end of the bed, climbing onto your knees and opening your arms up, “What happened?”

Carmy let out a deep groan as he stepped into your embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his hot breathe dancing over your cool skin.

“Long day,” He whispered as he peppered kisses onto your jaw, “Work with fuckin’ idiots.”

You hummed something halfway between a laugh and a moan as Carm sucked lightly on your clavicle. Your head fell back slightly as he started overtaking your senses.

“Need you, sweet girl,” Carmy groaned into your salty skin, “Need to feel you.”

He leaned into you, lips drifting up to clash into yours. His calloused hands slid under your thighs and pulled you down to lie on your back.

Carmy’s hands started clawing at your shirt, your shorts, your bra, anything he could reach.

He leaned away from you to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, and you used the quick break to slide your lounge shorts halfway down your thighs before Carmy pulled them completely off. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, a combination of lust and need and anguish and excitement.

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your cheeks as he unbuttoned his jeans, flipping onto his back to slide them off along with his boxers.

In a matter of seconds, you were both fully naked and Carmy’s lips were making their way from your neck to the valley between your breasts to your stomach. Your breath hitched as he adjusted his position to wrap his thick arms around your thighs and breathed over your aching core.

“Fuck, I missed her today,” He growled, prodding experimentally at your already-dripping folds, “Missed you, pretty girl.” His lips connected with your inner thigh in such a way that made you jump, the anticipation practically seeping out of your pores.

“Take what you need from me, baby,” You purred reaching a hand down to grab into the curly mop on top of his head.

A devilish smile crept across his lips. Before you could react, Carmy’s tongue was slapping against your folds, moving from your weeping hole to your clit in a fast, repetitive pattern.

You couldn’t help but buck your hips up into his face as he kept up the punishing pace. Something between a chuckle and a grown vibrated from his lips and straight into your core, making your writhe against him even more.

“Oh, fuck, Carm,” You gasped, feeling the pressure build in your core, “pleasepleaseplease.”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, but Carmy always managed to figure it out. He reached around your shaking thigh just then and slid a thick finger into your clenching hole. You let out a whimpering “Carmyyyy” as he worked his digits in and out of you in rhythm with his tongue circling your swollen clit.

“That’s it, baby,” He growled into you, bringing you closer to the edge, “Come on, that’s right.”

He stretched a second finger into you and you were done for. The blinding bliss took over as you curled your toes and arched your back up off the bed. The hand in his hair clenched into a tight fist as the soft walls inside you spasmed frantically against his still-pumping fingers. You ground your center against his mouth involuntarily as he helped you ride out your high.

When the room finally stopped spinning, you looked down to see a grinning Carmy propped up on one elbow, just enjoying the view.

“Come here,” you breathed out and grabbed at his shoulders for him to meet your lips. He kissed you languidly, his face still covered in your slick.

“My girl,” He whispered into your lips before sliding backwards and pulling your legs along with him, “So beautiful.”

He positioned the two of you on the edge of the bed, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. He gave himself a few strokes before nudging your clit with his swollen tip.

Your body jolts at the contact and a Carmy lets out a breathy laugh. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue circling your mouth before sinking all the way into your tight heat in one swift motion.

Carmen’s brows drew together as he grit his teeth, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back into to you.

“Fuck, Carm, fuck,” You moaned out loud, followed by a chorus of gasps each time he slammed his hips into you. The sound of skin slapping together and stifled groans echoed off the walls.

Carmy looked almost pained each time he slid his thick length in and out of you, his lips parted as he stares, mesmerized by the place where the two of you connect.

“You’re fucking killin’ me, baby,” He growled as he leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips, “Look so goddamn sexy takin’ my cock like that.”

You smiled sweetly with lust-blown eyes, and reached up to grab his thick curls in your trembling grasp.

Carmen snaked a hand between your rutting bodies and pressed just right on your clit, circling the swollen bundle with two slick fingers. A breathy gasp flies from your lips as pleasure burns through your veins, surprising you with its intensity.

You were lost in your pleasure for a long moment, writhing and whining under Carmy’s solid body. When you peeled your eyes back open, you could see the look of restraint written on his face, Carmy’s hips stuttering and breaking the pace for the first time.

“Please—please fill me up, Carm,” You panted as he slammed his hips into you, faster this time, “Please cum in me, baby.”

Carmen’s willpower gave out, growling and groaning as his whole body tensed up to release hot ropes of his seed into your fluttering walls.

Some combination of curse words and praises fell from his lips as he rode out his high, his hands clawing at your own.

“Fuck, baby—God you’re so fuckin’ perfect, shit—Ah.”

He stilled his movements as his gaze fluttered back to yours, pupils blown and sweat dripping from the curls stuck to his forehead.

“Jesus,” He breathed with a grin on his face, slowly settling his weight next to you on the bed, “I fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You laughed, still slightly out of breath as you snuggled onto Carmy’s chest, “You love me or you love my pussy?”

Carmen let out the most relaxed, full-bodied laugh you’d heard in a while before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Both,” He kissed your forehead sweetly, “But mostly you.”

You let out a cheeky Mmhhmmm and settled against his skin, happy to be able to relax in each other’s space for even a moment.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass before you feel Carmy shuffle a little under your embrace.

“Baby?” He whispers into your hair and you tilt your head up to meet his loving gaze, “You’re my favorite stress reliever by far.”

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #the bear #carmy x reader #kdogreads

2K notes · View notes

diorcities · 8 months ago

Text

⠀ ⠀ ── ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ♡ favorite place to fuck !

nct dream nsfw headcanon.

hi friends ! a girl's having struggles w committing to writing, but never finds it hard to be a horny delusional.

mark. in the studio. gives him inspiration fucking you while he's in his creative process. makes his mind fly. have your back pressed down on the mixing box as he penetrates you sweetly, deeply, and torturously slow, making you gasp the way he likes. sounds that escape your lips every time he pushes his pelvis towards you, balls deep before he changes the pace and a hole opens up in your stomach, feeling him more desperate, eager. hand holding your shoulder so you don't get to bounce forward and stay still, receiving every fiery and passionate thrust, feeling your pussy burn with exquisite pain when he starts to curse in anguish from coming closer to his climax.

renjun. on the kitchen counter. a place that anyone could enter at any time. he likes the adrenaline rush that buzzes his body when he takes you in the kitchen. legs sprawled on each side of his waist, as one of his hands rests in your calve and the other on the back of your neck. ruined clothes and soaked underwear from previous crushing orgasms slid to the side, as he hammers his cock into your sore cunt, base of his shaft covered in your creamy arousal. dick pounding sharply delicious in and out of your numb pussy, filling you once more with his hot seed painting your sensitive walls white as your legs go completely numb with silky pleasure while his tremble with overstimulation.

jeno. at the edge of the bed. he likes the ease of having you ready and spread for him because he has more stability to be able to push inside you. taking you at the edge of the bed allows him to manipulate your legs as he wishes; he can choose the intensity, the speed, and the angle at which he hammers into you. making you intertwine your legs over his chest so that your pussy tightens around his cock, walls clenching and pulsing around his thick length. making your legs spread wide so he can bury his dick all the way to the base, hitting devilishly your swollen spot and making you scream.

haechan. in front of the mirror. he loves your tormented expression. the way your features contract into a loosened grimace of raw pleasure as he fucks you with rough thrusts. the sound your pussy makes every time his hips push forward, pounding into you mercilessly. how hard it is for you to hold yourself when your legs start shaking furiously, and your belly vibrates under his palm releasing pulsations of pleasure on the soft, swollen walls surrounding his cock, narrowing your pussy deliciously, cock coated in your arousal squeezed nicely. his arms hold your weak body while a hand wraps around your neck and forces you to keep your gaze in the mirror because, in addition to giving him pure satisfaction to see your ruined face, he finds it extremely pleasing to know you're a witness of it too.

jaemin. on the bed. likes the softness. thinks that if your body feels this fragile and tender, he should fuck you against something just like that. that's not to say he won't be rough with you, not when your pussy tightens smoothly around his cock as he rocks in and out of you. tummy burning with aching pleasure when he pulls your legs and rests them on his shoulders, sinking deep, rhythmically hitting your swollen spot inside. your hips reacting to the scorching sensation before his hand presses against your stomach and all sensations intensify. raw waves that travel down your belly to your pussy, clenching around his cock buried and pressed against your walls, taking your throbbing spasms.

chenle. on the sofa. it keeps you close to him. he likes the skinship that provides the sofa when you ride him like a good cowgirl. your hands on his shoulders fisting the fabric of his shirt while your eyes fixate on his dick shoving into you as you move to the rhythm of his grunts. mouth-watering from how good he feels, sensing him wake every nerve inside as your walls engulf him with every sharp thrust. a violent tingle taking your breath and forcing you to speed up, rocking against his shaft as his dick keeps squelching your damped cunt, right hand crossing his shoulder to join the other squeeze the backrest, increasing the force you pull your pelvis back and forth, going harder before you slow down as you approach that sweet velvety sensation that embalms your body, suppressing a whimper on the inside of your arm.

jisung. on the floor. the solid floor allows him to be as rough as he wants. in some way, it feels stable and gives him more freedom to put you in the position he craves. it feels more raw that way. his thrusts are stronger and sharper, your body doesn't sway as much because his hands hold you still, receiving the magnitude and vigor with his cock moves in and out of you, the constant tapping of the base of his member against your ass, his hands pressing down, pronouncing your arch. knees starting to hurt from the friction and force his big dick pushes inside you before he makes you turn around and places your numb legs on either side of his waist, starting the sweet torture of his thrusts again.

#nct dream smut #haechan smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #chenle smut #renjun smut #mark smut #jisung smut #nct dream headcanons #nct dream hard hours #mark lee hard hours #haechan hard hours #renjun hard hours #jisung hard hours #jaemin hard hours #jeno hard hours #chenle hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #♡dream

926 notes · View notes

bigtedbear · 3 months ago

Text

" 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

content warnings: gay relationship, descriptions of grevious bodily injury, implied self-mutilation/self-harm, male reader, monster x human relationship, hurt/comfort writing, hey this starts out really dark please take care of your mental health, arguments, misunderstood feelings, mermaid courtship, alternate universe where luocha is a traveling doctor who's studying biology and anatomy across the universe blah blah blah, luocha is pretty genuine in this even though i know he is in fact a snake let me idealize for a moment okay, luocha puts a ring on it without realizing he is literally putting a ring on it

full admittance you'll probably find parallels with @/havanilla's merventurine au at the start of this cause it was one of the last things I read on my old tumblr account before it died on me and i fear i DO have brainrot

to add to my earlier warning about this chapter beginning out dark, there will be a marker for the cuter, mermaid courtship section of the fic!! look for a marker like the one below VV

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller luocha has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

A pained scream ripped through the air.

It was a shame it couldn’t be distinguished from the sound of other yells and shouting from all over the deck. In fact, it seemed the anguish was completely drowned out by the noise of an older man beginning to bark orders from the side of the fishing boat. Gravelly with age and experience, sets and more sets of hands seemed to jump to action, rushing over to that specific side of the deck.

In the crew’s haste, they didn’t seem to notice they had also woken up the residential cabin. Things were more than hectic; the experienced crew themselves were in a frenzy. There was something that demanded urgent attention and it seemed none of the regular passengers were privy to what exactly it was.

Still, in the curious sea of civilian passengers renting their rooms in the bowels of the ship, a tall blonde head of hair peered over the crowd straight to the source of the fuss. Over the sea of yellow rain jackets adorning the working fishermen, he caught sight of some kind of reflective surface… what many wrote off as an oversized fish, Luocha continued to strain his eyes at.

Should he have been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed. But Luocha was a doctor, he was more than familiar with noises of distress; with the scent of blood. Something in the very core of his body shook with each of the pained and weak motions of an equally pained, weak patient. The vibrations crept up his spine from the wooden boards of the ship, whispering into his ears.

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

Despite the protests of one of the tour guides, urging him to go back to sleep, he rushed towards the scene. The same pained screams; the sounds of the body on the deck; the reflection of the “oversized fish”, they became clearer and clearer the closer he closed in.

Before he could make it into the crowd of men at work, he was caught by one of their coworkers. Clad in a yellow raincoat, shadow cast across his face in the rain, the obviously displeased grimace all over his face only further sent Luocha into a state of panic. A tense grip on his elbow, the man spoke in a language he didn’t understand. Even if he didn’t understand the words themselves, Luocha was more than smart enough to understand the message the worker was trying to convey. Before he could be pulled away, he made one last attempt to see what exactly was going on.

When he did manage to catch a glimpse, he froze.

Perfect, round tears running down flushed, red cheeks.

The skin was pulled taut in another scream. Based on the shaking motion of the face, he could only really come to the conclusion the body was being jerked in every direction possible.

“Stop… STOP!” He yanked his elbow out of the man’s grasp, crashing directly into the back of another worker. In his haste, he shoved the man out of the way only to find his path blocked by even more yellow raincoats. “You’re only going to worsen the injuries! I’m a doctor!”

Despite not considering himself to be very physically fit, something about the situation discarded that reality entirely. An unknown strength washed over him as he forced his way through the clusterfuck of workers trying to wrestle the screamer into place.

He didn’t understand, Luocha didn’t understand.

There was an injured crew member on the deck, screaming–what kind of idiot would continue to pull and stress the skin around the wound? Was that why the team leader seemed to screaming with such vigor? Was he equally concerned about one of his staff suddenly being sent into debilitating agony?

But no, not even in the slightest.

Through the crowd, a wet mop of hair thrashing against the backdrop of a barbed fishing net came into view. The urgency only further sent Luocha wrestling through the crowd of men, all but screaming himself as he watched the injured man on the ground contort his facial muscles in abject horror.

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!”

He could hear his own vocal chords start to tear as he shrieked for the poor victim. With each passing moment, fear and anxiety seized the doctor in his entirety before he finally managed to part the crowd like the red sea.

In the end,

he wasn’t faced with a crew member.

...

A merman.

Something he’d only heard of in the planet’s folklore.

It seemed well-known the small surviving population hardly ever ventured out of protected waters for fear of predators.

What was this one doing so far out…?

With the opportunity making itself known, the unknown merman continued to thrash but harder, lips curling upwards as another shrill cry of agony streaked the night air. From up close, the doctor could only watch the formerly smooth, unmarred skin become tainted with red. Washed with your own blood, you looked more similar to some kind of horror movie monster than a person.

But even in the face of monstrosity, his inner doctor only saw the blown out pupils, the senseless aggression, the fear written all over his patient’s face in their own claret stain.

“You’ll end up killing him, stop, STOP!”

He completely ignored his own pain as the barbs in the net ripped into the fabric of his pajamas, cutting open his knees when he threw his body on top of yours. His hands flew around carelessly in an attempt to unlatch the hands that seemed determined to pull at you from every direction.

At the loss of the hands all over your body, your screams died down into pitiful hyperventilation, curling in on yourself in an attempt to cover the wounds weeping crimson all over the formerly white net.

Instead of relief, instead of some kind of graditude, it seemed he was only met with friction.

“Oy, blondie, paws off, do you understand how much money you’ve got your hands on right now?”

The thick accent confused him at first, then the words themselves didn’t seem to compute.

“Excuse me?”

You yelped again when one of the men pulled at the net. The cold metal tore sore flesh in chunks.

“Mermaid scales are priceless. So are the pearls they cry, we caught the bastard fair and square so. Step. Off.”

His mind scrambled to understand the sentence, thoughts muddling together in a blender of pain and panic. “I- I-”

“You?” Another crew member chimed in, crossing his arms, “You’ll what, doctor? You can either get off of him and wrap up your cuts yourself or we’ll drag you off and the barbs can teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

“I-” his breathing picked up drastically, suddenly confronted with such a terrible moral dilemma.

When prying hands began to make grabby motions for the edges of the ropes, he choked out his final answer.

“I'll pay for him!"

“...”

He swept his rain-soaked bangs out of his face, his voice shaking, “You were planning on selling him, right?” He fumbled with his sleeves, “I make good money, I swear, I-,” he swallowed, “I can afford it. Just take as much as you want out of the account I used to pay for my cabin.”

“...”

Things were a little bit awkward, to say the least.

Despite an attempt being made to cooperate while you were awake, it seemed the pressure and the mounting stress of nearly dying made it unable for you to accept the fact that Luocha was not, in fact, going to hurt you.

The attempt to deal with the various injuries littered all over formerly smooth, silky skin was unproductive at best. In fact, it only created more problems. Trying to operate while you were largely unreceptive to anything he was saying was by far the worst decision he could’ve made given the circumstances.

Point blank, he needed to get the barbed hooks out of your skin. If he didn’t, the wounds would be at increased risk of infection. After all, based on the cruel treatment he’d seen on deck, he knew the metal was most likely unsanitized. Doing this while you were awake was easily the worst decision he could've made.

Promising not to hurt you while continually yanking pieces of metal out of your tender flesh was not a good way to build trust.

"..."

You poked at the “strange” bowl that’d been set in front of you. It was some kind of clam-fish hybrid soup. I mean, Luocha was trying to be considerate of your regular diet. Surely, since you were living out in open waters, you were pretty used to eating fish right?

He, however, failed to realize you weren’t exactly in a spot to ever enjoy the luxuries of cooked food… or soup. He’d laid out some utensils for you to use on top of that; it was a shame you didn’t know how to use them.

"..."

You realized pretty early on that he’d saved you from becoming a victim to death by blood loss. After all, when you were dropped in a holding tank until the ship arrived at the port, the water went cloudy from the dirt, debris, and blood all over your body. In your little waist-high tank, he’d done his best to make sure you’d actually survive through the night.

Despite your reservations about him, you did your best not to scream while you were confined to a glorified holding cell. Nails digging into the glass, biting down hard enough on the towel to tear, you tried your best to stay still while he fished countless little hooks from your back, arms, and chest.

Removing the large hook in your shoulder was the most painful part of the process for the both of you. You, for obvious reasons. The hook made a clean cut through the muscle--scraping up against the bone--by the time you were awake enough to realize you were wrapped up in a barbed net. Luocha, on the other hand, was the one that had to deal with the struggle while trying to complete a very tricky operation.

Eventually, the problem dealt with itself when you passed out. Really, he should’ve sedated you to start with, and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it sooner. After you went out, he did his best to stitch everything up–hell, he wrapped you up in enough bandages to look like a mummy.

But, since the two of you actually arrived on the island, there wasn’t so much as a word shared from either party.

You woke up in a little bathtub, in a little bathroom, feeling like your arms were falling off and you couldn’t breathe because of how tight all of the bandages were wrapped around you. Eventually the giant bandages changed to smaller ones attached with some medical tape. The only bulky one left was the one wrapped around your shoulder.

"..."

With some trepidation, you grabbed at one of the fishtails sticking out of the mystery liquid, digging a finger in between the meat and the ribs to peel it off the bone. Carefully, you used one of your freshly trimmed nails to remove the thick, scaly skin, then biting off a chunk to chew and swallow.

The longer you stared at the bowl, the more confused you became.

Yes, you knew how to eat a fish.

Yes, you knew how to eat a mussel.

No, you didn’t know what to do with whatever else was in the bowl.

You paused eating when the man sitting across from the bathtub cleared his throat. He made a vague gesture towards your lap, “Would you…?”

‘...mind if I showed you how to eat a bowl of soup?’

Without much hesitation, you offered up your meal again, much more interested in the chunk of fish in your hand. Biting off another piece, you drank in the pleasant familiarity in just having some tilapia for once.

He picked up the spoon. Deciding not to embarrass you further, he decided to taste test the food himself instead of trying to feed you. He let the silver spoon clatter back into the bowl, passing it over to you again. Despite the clear demonstration he’d given you, you opted to pick at one of the mussels hiding underneath the broth.

“...”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly averting eye contact as he stared at the tiled walls.

You diverted your attention from your bowl back to the blonde doctor.

“I don’t mean to be rude or pry in any way,” he swallowed, “but what exactly were you doing so far from protected waters?"

You didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his question, grabbing at the other fish tail in the bowl, “Smuggling and poaching.”

He tilted his head curiously.

“Protective waters have attendants to track general pod health, they have the authority to temporarily remove merfolk from the water to do routine health checks." You finally wrapped your hand around the spoon awkwardly, bringing some broth up to your lips. "Smugglers get jobs as attendants cause only tagged mermaids are considered protected.” You wiggled one of your finned ears, your left ear. Notably, there was a small tear in one of the fins. “It only takes a couple minutes for an attendant to catch a mermaid, sedate them, get them into a vehicle, remove their tag and throw them out into the right spots for a couple grand.”

“I see.”

You hummed, finally bringing the soup up to your lips, “Speaking of, how much did you end up having to pay for me?”

"..."

“Excuse me?” Luocha’s hands rested in his lap.

“How much did you end up paying for me?” You picked up another mussel, “I’m pretty good about keeping up with the price of scales and pearls. I know you bought me as some kind of pity project, but I'm pretty eager to go back out to open waters. Just name your price and I can start trying to pay off the debt.”

The doctor blinked a couple times. “Oh… oh my god, absolutely not!” He shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of his chest defensively, “There is no need to pay me back in the slightest. Please, just rest well and remain healthy. That would be the best payment.”

“What’s this?”

He rolled the small iridescent pearl between his gloved fingers.

“It’s a pearl.”

He cracked a smile at that. It was gone as quick as it arrived as he brought the little treasure to his face to take a closer look. “Well yes, but where did you get this? Did you have it stashed on you somewhere?”

You twirled your finger in a circle on the surface of the water. “No,” absentmindedly you observed the little whirlpool it made, “I made it.”

He blinked a couple of times, hand dropping back to his side. “Pardon?”

You finally looked up from the surface of the water, “I made it.”

He cocked his head to the side, “You… made a pearl?”

You looked at him, bored, “Well, yeah, did you not know mermaids make pearls?”

He looked from you, to the pearl, and then back at you. “No… I’m afraid I didn’t know.” His palm closed into a fist around the pearl, “How?”

“...hm?”

He gestured towards his closed hand, “How did you make it?”

You gave a huff, “Well, you’ve seen me make them before.”

He frowned, “I… have?”

‘-and I didn’t notice?’

You nodded, shifting around in the bathtub to try and stretch your long tail out a little bit. "The night I got caught on the boat-" Your jaw tensed, a sudden pang of soreness shooting up from your extremities. "-they were all over the deck, there were a bunch in the little tank they had me in.”

His frown only deepened as he did his best to recall, “I don’t think I remember seeing them…? Does your blood crystalize into them or something of the sort?”

You rested your head on the porcelain of the tub, bringing your arms up to cushion your cranium. “Tears,” you murmured, “Merfolk tears turn into pearls.”

‘Ah… so that’s why you mentioned there being so many on the ship.’

But then it hit him.

“Why were you crying?”

You shrugged, “Most mermaids in protected waters can cry on command. We get a lot of tourists that give us gifts, sometimes if we’re interested we’ll give them a pearl in return.”

He nodded like he understood, but suddenly the beautiful gem felt heavy in his fist. He opened his hand and offered it back, “As beautiful as it is, I don’t wish to see you shedding any tears while you’re under my care.”

You pushed his outstretched hand away, “Well, I already made it. There’s no use trying to return it.”

“Still, I feel terrible receiving a gift with such painful origins,” he sat down on the stool that’d become his usual spot. “I’m a doctor. My goal is to make sure you’re in the least amount of pain possible.”

“You should feel honored, you’re really the first person I’ve ever given a pearl to,” you raised your head from its spot on your arms, “I usually only gave them to little kids that didn’t bring me gifts so I’d give them something.” You sank further into the water in the shallow tub.

“My concern is why you believe you should be giving me gifts in the first place,” he crossed his left leg over his right, scooting in closer, “I’ve already told you that taking care of you has always been of my own volition. It is quite literally my job. If you’re giving this to me as a gift and not repayment, I might be more inclined to accept it.”

You huffed, “Well, I guess you caught me.”

His brows furrowed, “So I was right, you’re trying to pay back a debt again.”

“...”

This time, he sighed. “I’ve already told you, your health and wellbeing are both priceless. I would never ask a patient I forced into care to pay me any sum of money-”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” The water rippled when you sat up suddenly, “Why don’t you want to accept any kind of payment? I’m tired of talking to you as property and owner. You bought ownership, legally I’m your property. I don’t want to be your property.”

“You aren’t my property-” He quipped, expression growing displeased.

“But I am,” you cut him off. “You signed paperwork, you exchanged a certain sum of money. Even if you thought I couldn’t hear you doesn’t mean I didn’t.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I still heard the captain of the ship talking about sale prices with you. I know I was considered a higher quality product, I know I was expensive.”

The doctor opened his mouth; and closed it and opened it again. He struggled to find the correct words to use. “I didn’t consider that an exchange for ownership of you, I considered that to be the price of your wellbeing. I’ve never considered you to be anything but an equal to me.”

You drew your lips into a tight line, “Well, if I was an equal, you’d let me contribute to the cost somehow. You wouldn’t treat me like some helpless baby.” You gestured to his closed palm, “The pearl in your hand is priceless, sealing a handful of them would recuperate the money you wasted-”

Luocha held up his hand, “Stop-”

But you insisted, “Hell, if I ripped a couple of scales out you could more than pay for me. You’d have enough money to buy another sorry sack of shit to take care of-”

“Don’t EVER-” he cut you off aggressively, “EVER, suggest such ludacris things to me again. I refuse to even think about it.”

“..."

Luocha shook his head, getting his gloves wet when he reached into the water to hold your hands in his own, “I would never ask you to do something like that to yourself. I would never ask you to hurt yourself to please me and I would never ask you to hurt yourself because you needed my help.” He gave your palms a gentle squeeze, “You did not ask to be put in the position you’re in now, I am the one that chose to do this and I will be the one to set the price on my help; that price-” he paused, making sure you were looking him in the eyes, “-will always be no price at all.” He pushed the pearl back into your hands. “Give this pearl to one of the children that visit the waters after you’ve healed up in my stead, yes?”

“It’s not exactly how I remember it.”

You squirmed against the sensation of the water, arms still looped around Luocha’s neck.

“Any discomfort?” The doctor asked, “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” You shuffled around to try and make yourself comfortable. You did your best to find the familiar rhythm of the waves, but your tail felt as useless as it had the entire time you’d been confined to the bathtub. “It’s… cold.”

Luocha nodded... even though he couldn't quite understand. “If you aren’t straining any of your injuries, you can hang on for as long as you need to.”

You mumbled, trying to draw your elbows closer to your chest, “I’m not.”

“...”

It’d only been a week since the last time you’d tried to repay your imaginary debt to Luocha. Things got… less tense between the two of you.

You didn’t put up a fuss when he put some ointment on the scars that formed all over your skin. You didn’t squirm when he unwrapped your shoulder bandage. You’d usually bide your time silently in the bathtub. Mostly, you’d nap. But that got old quickly, especially since a bathtub isn’t the most convenient spot for sleeping.

Luocha could tell you were bored out of your mind all on your lonesome. To satiate this, he’d usually sit with you in the bathroom and try to teach you things like how to play cards. You were a little apprehensive with him, like you always were, but it seemed you opened up to him a lot more towards the end of your stay in his temporary residence.

You’d become a pretty competent blackjack player all things considered.

You opened up more and more about your life down below. Usually, you’d be afraid to tell anyone about that information. Smugglers often targeted specific pods if one of the products happened to be particularly pricy. But Luocha wasn't at any risk, was he?

“...”

Eventually, as the water started to feel more natural on your skin, you let your grip loosen from around his neck. As the welcoming embrace of the ocean seemed to envelop more and more of your body, you could feel the former tension in your muscles start to melt away.

You laid yourself horizontal to the surface of the water, tentatively starting to create your own ripples in the vast expanses of blue. Maybe it didn’t feel exactly as you remembered, but the gentle pressure of the cool, cool sea against your skin felt like home.

Your arms splayed out in the waves like an angel, basking in the familiarity of it all. “You can let go now.”

Slowly, surely, pale arms lowered you into the arms of the same waters you’d been in a little over two months ago. You shocked yourself when you chased after his hands. Still, as slick as an eel, you slid away from him into the open ocean, finding a boyish glee in the pure ecstasy of true freedom.

You took off like a little jet, head first into the deep end.

Luocha could only really watch with a small smile while you explored the vast array of little treasures hidden beneath the horizon line.

It felt like only fifteen minutes had passed when you re-emerged from beneath the ocean blue, but to your shock, the sun was starting to set and Luocha was off on dry land, wringing the water out of his hair.

In all of your fun, it seemed you’d forgotten about that man who’d made all of this possible for you.

“...”

You pursued him onto the sand, watching him characteristically tilt his head to the side to express his curiosity. You pushed your own wet mop of hair out of your face with your hand, suddenly feeling a little less confident in your choices. Despite your trepidation, you felt you at least owed him this much.

That didn't make it any easier.

“I-” you swallowed, curling in on yourself, “What if I wanted to give you a gift? If it wasn’t some kind of repayment?”

He smiled, flipping a soaked lock of hair over his shoulder, “As long as you aren’t lying to me about repayment, then I would gladly accept.”

You suddenly felt a new wave of confidence wash over you, your chest puffing up a little bit, “Well, I have a gift for you.” Even though you failed to notice your little finned ears wiggling in excitement, Luocha did not.

You reached up to your right ear, unhooking the beautiful golden earring that’d you'd been wearing since you’d been thrown out of protective waters.

His eyes widened.

“It-” You offered the hoop to him, “It was my mom’s.”

Luocha blinked a couple times, staring at the bangle before looking back up at your face instead.

“Well? You said you’d accept it if it was a gift.” You pushed it into his face, feeling a red hot flush wash over your features, “This is a gift; from me to you, no strings attached.”

He carefully took the thin gold loop in his fingers. He noticed the signs of oxidation and the water damage.

It was already far less valuable than the pearl you’d tried to offer him.

Yet its sentimental value was unrivaled.

“...”

“Did... your mother like jewelry?”

You shrugged, looking away from him, “Yeah, she had a lot of it from my dad.”

Luocha nodded. “Well, did she have a favorite kind of jewelry?”

At this, you paused. “I mean… I guess she did. She wore a lot of rings… why?”

“Well, since this is a gift I won’t refuse it,- Luocha slid one of the golden bands wrapped around his fingers off, “-but if you can’t have her earring anymore, then you can at least have a piece of jewelry your mother would’ve liked to wear.”

You felt your face transition from an embarrassed pink to a much deeper red. “You… you know what you’re offering me, r-right?”

He didn’t respond in the way you expected. Instead of his usual confusion, he pushed the ring towards you again with one hand. The other went to work, looping the clasp of the earring through a piercing that was just a little bit too close to closing.

It felt like your brain was melting.

‘Is he… flirting with me?’

You took the golden ring between your fingers, watching him use his newly freed hand to further force the earring through the piercing hole. You could only feel the heat creep up your neck to your ears; fuck, it felt like you were going to burn alive on the sand.

When he finally got it in, he flipped a chunk of wet hair over his shoulder. He framed the golden hoop with his palm. Playfully, he asked, “How does it look?”

‘...’

‘He’s definitely flirting.’

You immediately ripped your gaze from his face to the ring that suddenly felt like a hundred pounds in your palm.

‘...What fingers do humans usually put the ring on again?’

Shakily you slid the golden ring onto your left hand, examining the way it glinted in the light of the sunset.

‘...holy shit, did I just get married?’

“[name]?”

You blinked a couple times, suddenly ripping your gaze away from the shiny metal. “Sorry, sorry.”

He chuckled at your expense, enjoying the little fluttering of your ears everytime he seemed to catch your attention again. “Thank you for the gift, I’ll cherish it dearly.”

You nodded.

“...”

The silence was interrupted with a quiet sniffle.

“...[name]?”

You aggressively wiped the tear off your face, watching the consequent pearl roll across the grains of sand. “H-Hey, you can’t just give me this ring and leave-” You took a deep breath, “-That’s not fair, that’s not fair at all.”

He was a little taken aback at the sudden resurgence of emotion, “Would…” he paused. He thought it over before tentatively putting a hand on your shoulder, “Would it help if I stayed a little longer?”

You shook your head, putting your hand over the one on your shoulder to hold it between both of your own hands. “You have to promise to visit me a lot. It’s going to take me a long time to find my family, so if you don’t visit I’m going to be lonely.”

He, once again caught off guard, nodded, “O-Of course!” His own cheeks tinted a pale pink.

“You promise?”

He nodded again, this time using his other hand to clasp your hand in both of his. “I promise I’ll visit.”

a side note for this upcoming section: i did a lot of world-building for this fic behind the scenes, the current planet they're on is largely submerged beneath the waters and they live on a bunch of island nations. To link up with that idea, my idea of the mermaid smuggling industry is to do with the concept of foreigners coming in and destroying local ecosystems. (Colonization)

Long story short, the planet is loosely based on Polynesian Islands so I chose Māori names for our supporting cast but keep in mind I am FAR from an expert and I mean literally no disrespect at all to anyone at all. Only the names are Māori in nature because I feel like no matter how much research I do, I would be unable to capture the essence of the rich culture of New Zealand. I'm a little gay fanfic writer I have not done nearly enough research to claim I know ANYTHING, I just thought it'd be cool and help with world-building in case people want a part-two or something

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Shut the fuck up Iarere, this is like the seventh time in the same hour.”

Your younger brother held his hands up defensively, “Well, things got boring around here without you!” He let himself fall towards the ground next to the boulder you’d splayed out all the little pieces of gold you’d managed to scrounge up. “You manage to make it back from outside of protective waters and instead of hating everything and everyone, you’re suddenly getting all buddy buddy with the tourists trying to get some trinkets. I know you’re old but are you really getting that desperate?”

You frowned, “I’m not that old.”

Iarere rested his face on the cool surface of the rock, prodding at one of the particularly flashy necklaces. “You’re old to me.”

Your frown deepened. Not just because your brother was calling you old, but because Luocha’s weekly visit was coming up and you hadn’t managed to gather up nearly as much as you would’ve wanted. For your kind, caring, doctor husband who was already well off, a few necklaces and a handful of rings and earrings wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to woo him. “I guess I am getting towards the end of the usual age people get married at.”

The younger man nodded, humming, “Yeah, so do you have anyone in mind?”

You bit your lip.

I mean, yes, you were married.

But it felt inauthentic if you didn’t present your husband with some kind of dowry first.

Yes, Luocha only presented you with one of his old rings, but he also paid a hefty sum to rescue you from certain doom. He also nursed you back to good health, refused to take any payment for any of the medical treatments or the food that’d been wasted making sure you’d retain your strength throughout your recovery.

In your mind, maybe human dowries were just a little bit different.

Despite opening your mouth to voice your dissent, your little brother jumped up at the opportunity to tease you. “So you do have someone you’re thinking about!”

“I-”

“What are they like?” Iarere gripped your shoulders, tearing your attention away from your inner dilemma. “What do they look like? Do I know them?” He gasped, shaking you back and forth and he demanded to know, “Did you meet them while you were outside?!”

You gripped at his shoulders in return, “I didn’t say I had anyone in mind!”

“...”

He pursed his lips, “Yeah, I’m not buying it.”

You groaned, bringing your hands up to your face.

He only got more excited, leaning in way too close for comfort as he squealed, “So I was right?!”

“Right about what?”

Your eyes darted over to the side, watching one of the few friends you’d managed to retain at your grown age. “Thank the gods, Akahata, get Iarere off me before he gives me whiplash.”

He hummed, “Well, I’m more interested in what exactly you guys were talking about before.” You watched as his eyes flitted from you and your brother to all the precious metal and gems you’d laid out. “Actually don’t tell me, let me guess.” He pointed at the rock, “You’re setting up a dowry, but you’re upset because you know no amount of jewelry would ever get anyone in the pod to consider settling down with your ugly mug.”

“HAH!”

Your ears fluttered in irritation. “That’s a horrible guess.”

Akahata shrugged, “Well, I mean, your mug’s only ugly cause you frown all the time. If you actually made an effort to smile more, you’d probably have a lot more people that’d be willing to accept you with no dowry.”

Your frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you massaged your temples, “For your information, I’m making a dowry cause I already got married.”

“...”

“...’

“...”

“You WHAT?!”

Iarere’s fists clenched even tighter around your biceps, “You told me you lost mom’s earring, not that you got married-”

“It’s a long story-” You started,

“Not long enough to not tell either of us!” Your best friend screamed in abject horror. “The moment Ngaio and I started courting each other I told you immediately-” You grimaced when he pushed your brother out of the way to be the one to shake you back and forth, “-and you get married and you don’t tell me until afterwards?!”

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t even realize he was courting me until he gave me his ring-” You countered, face lighting up pink.

“So it’s a him…” Iarere mumbled, putting his hand to his chin. His expression lit up as the pieces started clicking together in his head. “Is that where you’re going tomorrow?!”

“YOU’RE GOING TO MEET HIM TOMORROW?!”

You were growing more overwhelmed by the minute, averting eye contact. “Yeah, so what? We’ve been meeting up every week while I was looking for you guys. Is it weird for husbands to spend time together?”

Akahata abruptly let go of you, leaving red imprints of his hands on your arms. “That’s not that problem, that problem-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-is that you’re planning on meeting up with him after returning and you’re not even telling us who he is!”

Iarere put a hand over his heart, feigning his disappointment as he let himself sink into the sand below. “I think I’m going to faint.”

You sighed, “Well-”

Akahata jabbed an accusatory finger in your chest again, “Is he even good looking enough for you? Is he any good at providing? What was his dowry like? What pod is he even from?!”

“He’s not from a pod-”

Your brother hummed, “So is he a lone wanderer out beyond the boundaries of protected waters saving pretty mermen he wants to marry?”

Your face twisted into one of disgust, “Keep your fantasies to yourself.”

Iarere huffed, “Well, what else am I supposed to think when you say he’s not from a pod? He obviously has so be some kind of lone wolf, PLUS you got married before you made it back.”

Akahata put a contemplative hand under his chin, “I mean he has a point.”

You shook your head, “He’s a human.”

“...”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re joking…”

You held up your hand, gesturing towards the ring on your finger.

“Oh my god, you’re not actually joking.”

Your younger brother squealed, “Oh my god this is like something out of all those movies on the surface! Tell me all about it!”

You frowned, pushing through both your peers to make it back to your makeshift table top. “He’s… a doctor, but he was working as a trader on a big ship. He was there the night I got caught and he ended up buying me off the boat and he patched me up and released me.”

Your best friend sighed, “Only you can make a story that romantic sound like a business deal.”

Iarere furrowed his brows, “Wait, wait, wait, when did he propose?”

“Well-” You fumbled over your words, “I caught feelings and I thought I might as well start the courtship process-”

“YOU made the first move?!”

“Shut up!” You pushed your overly eager younger brother’s face away, “I didn’t know if he even knew about mermaid courting so if I was going to start courting him, I had to do it then.”

“...go on.”

You sighed, “I gave him mom’s old earring, but instead of just taking it, he gave me one of the rings he was wearing.” You covered your face, feeling another wave of crimson wash everywhere from your neck to the tips of your ears. You still couldn’t get the memory of him showing off the earring out of your fucking head. “I mean- I- I even asked if he knew what offering me his ring meant and he just put it in my hand.”

Your younger brother kicked around on the sand eagerly, waving his hands around excitedly. “That is actually one of THE most romantic proposals I’ve ever heard of!”

Akahata crossed his arms, “Damn, I feel like mine was lacking.”

You huffed, “Well, Ngaio is still your wife.”

“And whatever his face is still managed to wife you--of all people--up.”

“Touche.”

“Oh wow, you brought more than you usually do.”

Luocha chuckled behind his hand, his own little bag of purchased trinkets hanging loosely at his side.

You hummed, thumbing over the beautiful glistening stone of a diamond necklace you’d managed to get off of a rather infamous regular. “You’re one to talk.”

He gave a small grunt of exertion as he sat next to you on the sand, letting the bag fall to the side, “You’ve got me there.” He couldn’t help the pleasant swell of warmth in his face as you gestured for him to turn around.

I mean, maybe you weren’t the best at communicating what you were feeling or what you wanted from him, but you’d been getting better. Instead of just grunting a yes or no to the questions he’d ask, you’d actually make time for some conversation with him. Be it from your annoying younger brother to the changes in the pod since you’d returned, it seemed you shared what little woes you had with Luocha.

You also seemed to share endless amounts of little golden treasures with him. From old, worn gold, oxidized iron, anything really that you could find, you provided it to him and put it on him with the most delicate touch your rough, scarred hands could muster. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something. He couldn’t control the way his heart sped up whenever you leaned in to help him put on a new pair of earrings you’d gifted him. He surmised gift giving was some kind of love language that was common among merfolk. Perhaps you’d also enjoy it if he brought you gifts of equal value!

Still, the pounding in his heart was not helped when you’d started smiling at him.

Everytime he managed to catch one of the rare glimpses of your smile–even worse when you’d laugh–he almost felt like he was looking at something forbidden. Something he wasn’t worthy of, right in front of him. For someone who had been through so much, you really opened up to him remarkably quickly after you’d been released. Perhaps before release you’d been scared of being sold off? The familiar feeling of the waters must’ve don wonders to make you relax this much.

Even worse when the physical affection began. It started as simple as reaching out to the side of his face to brush the hair away from his ear so you could catch sight of the golden hoop he’d taken to wearing. It transitioned to taking his gloves off so you could look at the rings you ended up gifting him. Before he could really process how quickly the two of you were moving, you were pressed up against him at every opportunity.

He knew it was natural for merfolk to not wear clothing, but did you have to have such a muscular chest?

Even now, as you fumbled with the clasp of the absolutely beautiful diamond necklace, you wrapped an equally muscular aquatic tail around his leg. He didn’t exactly know if this was normal between merfamily-could he call them that?--, being overly affectionate. Even if it felt like a little more than just normal bonding, he did his best to still the pounding of his heart when your fingers brushed his hair out of the way so you could make sure the gem was oriented correctly.

Trying his hardest to quell the tide of warmth surging up to the tips of his ears, he put a hand over his erratic heartbeat. He prayed to the Aeons above you couldn’t feel it as your chest pressed against his back.

You wrapped your arms snug around his torso, pulling him further into your stomach. Resting your chin on top of his blonde hair, you found the gloved hand resting over his heart to hold in your own. The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment.

“...”

You gave a quiet huff before you moved your chin from on top of his head to bury itself into the crook of his neck. As his fingers interlocked with yours, he found himself looking at all the gold rings he’d adorned your fingers with. Each and every one, he could put a time and day to.

But then, his eyes landed on your ring finger.

“Oh, you still wear that old thing?”

“...hm?”

You glanced down at your hand, raising a brow. His finger was tracing over the ring he’d exchanged when he was releasing you back into the open water.

“You still wear the same earring I gave you,” you murmured, flicking it with your freehand. “I’ve given you countless pairs of earrings since, yet even when you wear one stud, you’ll always wear the same one every time I see you.”

His chest rumbled with a bout of laughter, “I suppose you’re right.” He perked up suddenly, “Oh, that reminds me, speaking of this earring…” He reached towards the rather large bag of gifts he’d brought with him. He threw a few of the boxes of gold ornaments he’d purchased before finally fishing the box he was looking for out of the bottom. “I went shopping and when I saw this pair, I simply knew you’d love it.”

You hummed, looking at the little navy blue box in his hand.

He made quick work of the bow wrapped around the holding case, nimble fingers peeling open the little box before he presented you with his gift on their signature velvet cushion. It looked like…

…a replica of your mother’s earrings.

He offered them up to you with a bashful smile, watching in silent amusement when your ears flicked back and forth in some kind of excitement.

Delicately, gently, you picked up one of the hoops and twirled it around your fingers.

“...”

“...Well? Do you like it?”

You didn’t respond, reaching up to your right ear to remove the little stud you’d chosen to wear to this outing. Fidgeting with the clasp of the loop, you threaded it with a calculated ease through your piercing.

“I like it.”

He clasped his hands together, “Good, I’m more than glad.”

“...”

“She would’ve loved to meet you.”

“Hm?”

You paused, “My mother, I mean,” Your thumb fidgeted with the back of the earring. “She always wanted to see her sons get married, but she passed before she could.”

Luocha blinked.

“Pardon?”

You tilted your head to the side, “My mother; she would’ve loved to meet you.”

“No, no,” Luocha could feel the deep claret paint his face a messy red as he scooted to face you, “What did you mean by seeing her sons get married?”

“...

…Did you not know?”

Luocha blinked.

“We’re married.”

Another blink.

“You… Is that why…?” He gestured towards the gifts strewn across the sand. He looked back towards his own bag of gifts.

‘Oh for crying out loud-’

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I apologize, I seem to have… entered this marriage under false pretenses.” He put his hands on his temples, “How- Where- When exactly did this happen?”

You hummed, “When you let me back out into the water. When I gifted you my mother’s earring, that was the signal I wanted to start courting you. When you gift something back, that’s an officiation of marriage.”

He coughed into his hand, trying to think through this situation logically.

Okay, so he accidentally got married.

What the fuck.

The train of thought seemed to end there.

…

He was, however, plagued with another train of thought.

‘Well, you have been making eyes at him for a few months now.’

…

Those thoughts were not helping.

“...”

“If you want to end the marriage, it’s as simple as saying so,” you added, “I thought you knew what my intentions were-”

“NO!”

Luocha covered the bottom half of his mouth. “I’m fine with the arrangement as is, but it appears human marriage and merfolk marriage are officiated in very different ways.”

Your brows furrowed.

“...”

“...Are you saying you want to officiate the marriage as humans would?”

The tips of Luocha’s ears burned with embarrassment. “I-”

You held one of his hands in yours, eyes seemingly boring holes into his face, “Whatever it is, as long as you want to do it, I will do it to the best of my ability.”

Any complaints were silenced when he was confronted with such sincerity. “Well…”

You waited patiently, folding your hands in your lap.

Finally, it seemed your “husband” made up his mind.

“Close your eyes.”

You paused, seemingly surprised, but nonetheless your eyes fluttered shut moments after.

Luocha urged himself to breathe, flexing and unflexing his hands.

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he…

…planted an innocent peck on your lips.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" idk how to describe it but now being on the other side of this, i'm feeling something similar to post nut clarity "

first post since losing literally everything on my first account yay !!

yes guys, luocha and his mermaid husband were openly cuddling on the beach for months and he's wondering "is he into me or am i bro-zoned"

that being said, losing my tumblr has now forced me to realize how many people genuinely like my writing hey guys I went scrolling through user kamisatoelogy's blog to look for their modern ayato fic and i found out someone dedicated time and effort into archiving my works???? and you guys went looks for me????

i fr feel like getting on my hands and knees and thanking everyone for all their support and love over this process and apologizing for scaring you guys so bad

you guys are so sweet and so many of you have been so helpful in getting my blog back up and running again :((

i started drafting my fics in google docs to make sure it isn't all GONE if i get shit on again so this chapter is brought to you by font: unica one, it was 27 pages total (i am insane)

shout out to Chappell Roan cause she really put me in my tunnel vision work zone while i was writing this

if u guys r looking for a writing hack, i trained myself like a sleeper agent to start writing when i play songs on hour loop it puts me in a work rut

- love, operator t-19

333 notes · View notes