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#I tried so hard to come up with S names for the second one I really did
greenandhazy · 1 year
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don't mind me, I'm just thinking about this concept again and talking through some difficulties
so I'm really committed to the idea of WWX dying and coming back in roughly the same circumstances as canon, and in the intervening years MY and XY being imprisoned (or in XY's case "imprisoned") by the Lan and the Jin respectively and then getting their "fuck yeah the boys are back in town" moment. I also think MY needs to be involved in getting the burial mounds settled, both because that fits his skillset and because I quite like the idea of him going "fuck this I'm out" during one of those big meetings and getting to truly stick it to his father.
BUT of course this causes issues with the whole resurrection plot, because if MY shows his colors before then, obviously he's not playing "Cleansing" for NMJ and causing a qi deviation, so what is the overarching reason for the resurrection?
THE SWAP SOLUTION:
the first thing I toyed with was the idea of swapping the function of Nie Mingjue and Jiang Yanli's deaths in the narrative. Mingjue dies in Nightless City (protecting Huaisang maybe?), Huaisang is the sibling who gets the big "Wei Wuxian, go to hell!" moment before he dies, Jiang Yanli is killed afterwards by... someone... and Jiang Cheng is the sibling who convinces Mo Xuanyu to make the sacrifice so Wei Wuxian can help him find/prove who killed her.
potential problems:
I mean no offense to Yanli but it seems like she probably dies in battle easier than Nie Mingjue, so there's a believability issue there
in the case of her being DELIBERATELY killed rather than accidentally--who the hell would want to do it? from what I've seen so far she's universally beloved
that character would also have to step in and fill the Big Bad Mastermind role the JGY holds in the canon narrative, which requires competency that most of the other Little Bads don't have
does Jiang Cheng have the subtlety to go the Huaisang route? (counterargument: does he need the subtlety? maybe he goes around for a decade shouting at people to try and solve this mystery, and the second WWX is back he storms up to him and is like "hi yes hello it's me the guy who brought you back, tell me who I can stab on behalf of my sister.")
THE FUGITIVE SOLUTION:
the other possibility is that, contrary to my first instinct, MY and XY aren't immediately captured when WWX dies. they manage to escape and evade capture for a while, and figure out a way to kidnap/murder NMJ in a way that's more aligned with canon before being caught--but their role in NMJ's death isn't discovered at that time, so Huaisang still gets to have a few years of fuming before deciding that MY's nice cozy seclusion among the Lan isn't enough of a punishment, he needs to be exposed and his beloved dead brother is going to do the exposing for extra drama. this also has the convenience of letting this-Meng Yao keep canon-Jin Guangao's "the bad guy at the center of the bad stuff" role.
potential problems:
believability again. absent slow qi poisoning, can two canonically weak cultivators take down Nie Mingjue? (counterargument: I keep forgetting to give Xue Yang a shard of Yin Iron in this verse but ig that would help.)
also, a major clan leader who has had public beef with two wanted criminals while they're on the run. does anyone need to be told whose fault it is?
I haven't figured out how I want this verse to end fully, but... it kind of leaves Meng Yao in a darker place than I want? like I do really like the idea of MY/WWX/XY being beloved by the common people in spite of everything the great sects say, and I feel like having the three of them uncover an act of corruption among the sects and having a "see! we told you so!" moment is a more satisfying ending than having Huaisang go "see! he's a murderer just like we've said all along!" and having the public go "we don't care." it's just a little anticlimactic.
THE SPY SOLUTION:
Similar to the above, except in this version, everyone knows that Xue Yang fought on WWX's side, and thinks that Meng Yao actually opposed him--he basically went from spying on the Wens for the Sunshot Campaign to spying on the Jins (/the other great clans) for his brother and the unaffiliated cultivators running the proto-watchtower/refugee camps. he could have been funneling money into them from his official position, and while Xue Yang is imprisoned (or "imprisoned") in this verse, Meng Yao is essentially in the exact same position as he is in canon--Jin Guangyao, popular Chief Cultivator, secret murderer. also makes it a bit more believable that this refugee camp idea would be feasible.
potential problems:
again with ending on a darker yet anticlimactic note. kind of exacerbated, even, because in the first version we at least have the momentum of Meng Yao being freed from seclusion whereas in this version he's already in a good place
it means I have to give up my "Xue Yang loses it on the battlefield and Meng Yao has to calm him down" scene AND my "Meng Yao tells Jin Guangshan and every member of the cultivation world to go fuck themselves on behalf of his brothers" ideas and I really, really like those.
THE SIMPLE SOLUTION:
I go with my original plan for MY & XY--they ally publicly with WWX, get captured, get imprisoned, but because of the timeline, NMJ doesn't die and Mo Xuanyu gets the idea to resurrect WWX all by himself. the fourth person he's meant to get revenge on is Jin Guangshan. added advantage is that... I'm not planning on writing a huge 100k fic of this, just a handful of related oneshots in a series, and this is an ending I can probably toss in somewhere for background purposes without having to do this whole THING.
potential problems:
it leaves MY and XY with not much to do for most of the time jump. might feel anticlimactic as well?? idk
it would definitely frontload a lot of the drama, because right now the majority of the ideas I have are for pre-death, and this would mean that the ONLY thing WWX has to do in his second life--no hunting down body parts, no Yi City arc, etc--is wake up, draw the OBVIOUS conclusion of "one of Jin Guangshan's bastards wantts me to kill Jin Guangshan" and boom presto, he's done. doesn't exactly show off much, does it?
right now I'm leaning to either the Swap or the Simple solutions... I do really like it when I can make an Alternate Universe fic that preserves as much of the original as possible in creative ways, so the Swap is fun for that, but the Simple is also good for like... stopping myself from going WAY overboard? and also might leave the door open for some endgame 3zun which would be cool......... I'm gonna keep musing.
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velvetydream · 3 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.
Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader
Word count : 1899 Words
Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst
Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than
Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing
Prequel -> > The radio star lost <
a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T
Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><
┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡
The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.
The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.
But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.
A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.
You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.
The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...
"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.
"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.
Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.
Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.
Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.
A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.
This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.
"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.
This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.
"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.
"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.
"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.
Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.
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mikomikumi · 2 months
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Guys I was on the plane and got bored. I wrote y’all some milkman smut~
Plz enjoy
Francis mosses x reader SMUT
Warnings; Penetration (PinV), orgasm denial, dom! Francis. sub! Reader. afab! Reader.
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This day couldn’t be any more boring than it already is. The Doorman is slumped in their seat, bored out of their mind.
They heard footsteps coming up to the window. It appears to be Francis Mosses. “Mmm, hello”. The usual greeting. Nothing seems off. “ID and Entry card please?”, asks the Doorman. Francis slips the paper under.
Appearance? Normal
Description? On point.
ID? One number is off.
“Hmm, your ID doesn’t fully match the correct one we have here.” The doppelgänger that stood in front of him started to panic. “I-I think you just need to re-read it. That’s m-my ID.” Unusual, he never speaks this much. “I saw your roommate Y/N come home earlier. Let me just give your room a call”. The doorman grabs the rotary phone and rings up Francis’s room, in hopes either you or the real Francis would answer.
The day was about to get just a little less boring.
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“Ngh~ fuck, so tight~” Francis moaned. The second you had come home from the bakery, Francis snuck up behind you and tried to strip you. He had been so horny all day. His one day off and you had to go to work. The milkman needed to give someone his milk~
“Take it, Y/N. Please~ Let me fill you with my milk~ Francis moaned and begged. He pounded your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He had filled you with cream about 3 times already. Yet his cock stayed hard, throbbing for more. He gripped your plush thigh, with the other hand on your chin. Francis's tongue fucked your mouth with passion. “Mmh~ good girl”.
Your tight little cunt didn’t mind. Your legs stayed open and welcome for each thrust of his hips, for each slap of his balls against your ass. You loved him. The way he fucked you gave you life. “Francis~”, you moaned his name for the hundredth time that day. You rubbed your clit as you were on the edge of another climax. It drove his cock wild. It throbbed as he was about to cum again-
“Ring ring!” The rotary phone on the bedside locker buzzed. You reached your hand over to it when all of a sudden it was pinned to the bed. “Don’t, we’re busy”. Francis demanded, getting ready to thrust inside you again. “Francis, if they let a doppelgänger in, the building is dead!” You argued. This annoyed the milkman. He let go of your wrist. “Mmm…Fine, but make it quick. I still have more cum to pump you full with”.
Your body turns away from the milkman. His cock leaves your hole as you pick up the phone. Francis, despite the orgasm denial, had an idea. He wasn’t a huge fan of that doorman, always looking at his Y/N. Maybe he could put him in their place.
“Hello? Ah hi there Mx. Doorma-ah!”. The milkman cheekily slapped your thigh, and your body shivered. “S-sorry. Yes I’m in my apartment. My roomma-”. Francis was sick of you calling him his ‘roommate’ instead of boyfriend. The only reason you did was that it was muscle memory. Francis grabbed the phone from your hand. He used his other hand to pin you down and he started thrusting himself back into you. You let out a scream, which you quickly muffled with your hand along with the other moans.
“Mmm…yes. I’m in my apartment with Y/N”. The clapping of skin could be heard in the background. “Is that all?” The milkman asked. He pounded into you faster, as payback for not letting him finish earlier. “…yes…”. The doorman eventually answered. Francis almost threw the phone back down into its place before gripping both your thighs tight. “Now, you owe me”. He shows no mercy, holds your thighs up and full-on pounds your pussy in.
“You’re…you’re gonna take my cum inside again?…right Y/N?…you’re gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock…?”. You know it’s not a question. It’s a demand.
“Yes Francis….fuuuck~”. Your eyes roll to the back of your head while you release yourself for the 4th time today. Your body sinks into the cum-soaked sheets as you let your boyfriend take over.
“Cumming…fucking…take it” he lets out a massive groan, this cock throbs and twitches as white ropes spew into your cunt. “Yeah…good girl”. Francis slowly continued to thrust, helping ride out his and your orgasm. He almost collapses on top of you when he finishes. He lies on your chest, his cock still buried deep in your womb as he snuggles.
“Always a cuddle bug after sex” You stroked his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. Francis is now completely drained. His baggy eyes stare into yours. “So…tired…”…the milkman mumbles, drifting into a deep slumber. You decide to join him, closing your eyes. You couldn’t ask for a better way to sleep other than having your boyfriend in your arms.
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The Doorman stares at the phone in mortified awe after the real Francis hangs up. They turn to look at the doppelgänger, who is now sweating profusely. “Sorry buddy, you ain’t coming in”. The doorman lifts the clear cover of the red button and pushes it.
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ki-yomii · 3 months
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like i do | jjk
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➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues
➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘
➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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Eavesdropping.
Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.
Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.
But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.
And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.
Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.
He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.
It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.
His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”
And Jungkook knows, okay.
He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.
If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.
For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.
However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.
Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.
And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.
All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.
What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 
It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.
The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.
When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.
Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.
You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.
Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?
Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?
Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.
The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.
So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.
Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.
That should be me.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He can’t lose you.
It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.
Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.
Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.
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Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.
He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.
It’s your first year anniversary.
He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.
You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.
Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.
He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.
“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”
“What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.
Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.
A lump grows in his throat.
“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.
Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.
The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 
“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”
“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”
It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.
Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.
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It’s been several days of radio silence.
No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.
If only you’d stayed.
Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.
He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.
The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.
“What are we even doing?” he asks.
Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.
There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.
It’s all my fault.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”
Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”
His intentions are pure, honest.
But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.
He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.
“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”
“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”
Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 
“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.
The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”
You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”
“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”
Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.
The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.
Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.
He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”
Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.
“Let go-”
“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”
In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.
A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.
Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”
The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.
You call to him softly.
He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”
“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.
A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.
Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.
“K-Kook!”
“Mm, that’s it.”
The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.
Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.
"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"
Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.
Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”
Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.
You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.
“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”
Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.
Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 
His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.
He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.
“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”
Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.
A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.
He groans.
“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”
Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.
Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 
“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.
He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.
When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.
“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”
Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.
He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”
Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.
“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”
You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.
Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”
“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.
Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.
You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.
“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”
God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”
A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.
“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.
Please.
He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 
You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.
His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.
The answer will either make or break him.
Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.
“Tell me.”
“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”
Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.
Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.
Love you like you deserve to be.
Like only he knows how to.
The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”
Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.
Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.
“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”
The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”
2K notes · View notes
hazbinwhoree · 3 months
Note
I feel like maybe Adam was wearing a mask because he's secretly insecure about his looks since he kept losing the two people made to be his soul mate to Luci.
So, when when you two go for a meeting, Adam is scared he'll lose you to luci like everyone else. And Luci pulls everything in the book to prove he can do it again, but it doesn't work. I was craving something sweet.
Failed 3 For 3
Part 1/2 Part 2
A/N: This takes place after episode 8, in a universe where Adam was spared by Lucifer and not stabbed by Nifty.
Adam had lost Lilith to Lucifer, and he had taken it hard. Then he lost Eve too, also to Lucifer, and Adam took that loss even harder. Lilith had left him for Lucifer but Eve cheated on him with Lucifer. Adam would never admit it, but he was lonely and constantly feared losing the ones he loved.
He was constantly worried he’d lose (Name) too. And when they were summoned to meet Charlie in Hell regarding newly reformed sinners, Adam was nauseous. He couldn’t shake the idea that Lucifer would successfully steal (Name) from him too, and he’d be alone again.
Adam fidgeted with his mask’s horns while he waited for Charlie and Lucifer to enter the meeting room. (Name) recognized the nervous habit and frowned. “Adam?” She reached out and gently grabbed his hand. “What’s wrong?”
Before Adam could answer, the doors opened and Charlie came bounding in. Adam pulled his hand away, setting a grin on his mask.
Vaggie followed Charlie, and Lucifer followed her. (Name) noticed Adam tense when Lucifer walked in.
The meeting proceeded and Lucifer said nothing, letting Charlie do all the talking until the end. The meeting concluded, and Lucifer boldly marched right up to (Name). Adam’s fists clenched.
“And who are you, gorgeous?” Lucifer asked, taking her hand and kissing it. (Name) scowled. “Adam’s wife,” she emphasized, pulling her hand away. Lucifer grinned. “Oh really? Well you know what happened with his last two wives right?” She now understood what had Adam so on edge. Lucifer was trying to go three for three.
She didn’t dignify Lucifer with an answer, but that didn’t deter him. “What are you doing with a prick like Adam anyway? I’m sure he doesn’t treat you right. A woman as gorgeous as you is too good for a man like him.”
“Adam is a wonderful husband,” (Name) retorted.
“Oh sure. That’s why his first and second wife both came to me–” Adam slammed his fist down on the table. Lucifer smirked. “Calm down, Adam, I’m trying to have a conversation with your wife.” “No, you’re trying to steal her,” Adam spit.
Lucifer didn’t answer, turning back to (Name). He tried to take her hand again but she snatched it away. “Oh come on, beautiful,” Lucifer pouted.
“No, you know what?” (Name) was pissed. “How dare you, rub Adam’s previous wives in his face, and then to add insult to injury, try to woo his current wife right fucking in front of him. That’s low as fuck. Adam is the only man I want and need, he treats me better than you ever could, and he’s more than attractive. He’s stunning. And tall, short man. So piss the fuck right off and stop disrespecting my husband.”
(Name)’s “short” comment clearly pissed off Lucifer, who growled and turned on his heel, storming out of the room. Charlie and Vaggie watched on as Adam created a portal for himself and (Name). Neither spared the girls a glance as they went through.
Back in Heaven, Adam immediately pulled (Name) into an embrace, not caring who was around to watch. He hugged her tightly, and muttered, “Thank you.”
(Name) hugged him back, her heart aching. “Don’t thank me for doing what any good wife would do,” she told him, burying her face in his chest. Adam tightened his grip on her before abruptly taking flight, carrying (Name) back to their shared home.
Inside, Adam cuddled up to (Name) on the couch. “Can you take off your mask?” (Name) asked.
Adam hesitated. He felt most best with it on. Ever since Eve, his mask had been a source of comfort and confidence. He rarely took it off, only taking it off to sleep and only taking it off around (Name).
(Name) gently grabbed his face in both her hands. “Let me see my beautiful boy.”
Adam reluctantly lifted his mask, discarding it next to the couch. (Name) was on him in seconds, climbing into his lap and pressing her lips to his.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as they made out.
When they finally pulled apart, (Name) brushed his hair out of his eyes and stared into them intensely.
“Lucifer is nothing compared to you. He could never have me in a million years. You have me. I chose you. I choose you everyday. I love you so fucking much, Adam.”
Adam felt a lump in his throat but god damn him if he cried.
He pulled (Name) back into his chest, holding her as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you too,” he managed to say without his voice cracking.
“I’ll never leave you. I promise.”
929 notes · View notes
tiredmamaissy · 7 months
Text
Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III
Calm After the Storm
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.
ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!
Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?
<- Previous -> Next
——
Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.
Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.
“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.
And he can sense it.
Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”
He just can’t help it.
No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.
“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”
The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.
It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.
ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.
“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”
“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.
Pop.
His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.
It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.
He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.
Until it becomes too much.
“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”
But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”
Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —
Thrust.
Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.
“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”
A deep roll of his hips.
A lewd moan dripping off your lips. 
“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.
“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”
Thrust.
“‘M sorry.”
He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.
Chomp.
Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.
“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”
A small cry from your quivering lips.
“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.
Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.
Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.
Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.
He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.
“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”
He only says your name when he’s serious about something.
And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.
“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.
“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.
“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.
You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.
“Mmmh. Wider.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.
“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.
Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.
The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.
But frankly, he doesn't care.
All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.
“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.
“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.
And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”
His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.
“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.
Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.
He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.
“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.
You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.
“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”
“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.
Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.
“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.
“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.
You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”
“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.
“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”
——
Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.
But, you thought wrong.
He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.
At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’. 
Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.
Mercilessly.
And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.
——
“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”
Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.
“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.
Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.
Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.
“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”
For the first time, you were telling him to stop.
His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.
It’s pouring outside.
Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.
You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?
“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.
After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.
So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.
A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.
Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.
But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).
The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.
Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.
“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.
Crack.
A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.
Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.
“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.
You’re hungry.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.
You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.
“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.
“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit. 
“Fine.” Ralak mutters.
Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”
“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”
“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”
“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.
Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.
“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”
“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.
Crack.
Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.
“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”
Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.
You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.
Has he really punished himself by not eating?
“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.
“No need.”
“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.
He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”
“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.
His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible. 
Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.
“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”
You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].
Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.
Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.
I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.
I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.
——
It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.
Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.
The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].
But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.
He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.
But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.
Yet, the real reason was much different.
——
Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.
And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.
Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap.  “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”
You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.
Prick.
“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”
“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”
“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure? 
“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.
“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.
“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”
“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.
“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”
“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.
“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”
“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.
“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”
“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”
“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.
“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.
You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.
A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”
“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”
You exchange lighthearted smiles.
“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”
“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.
Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”
Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”
2K notes · View notes
aajjks · 18 days
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Gazelle (m)
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synopsis. You’re his, only his beautiful gazelle.
pairing. gojo x fem!reader
warnings. MDNÏ. yändêrê thèmès, mátúrê ëxplïcït thèmès, ünprôtèctèd sèx, ëxplïcït sèx, scènt kïnk, hè’s sö nèèdy, kïndá sübmïssïvè gôjô, lôts óf kïssïng, präïsè kïnk, röugh fückïng, márkïng, pösèssïvè!göjö, prôfânïty, yándèrè gôjô
note. I could’ve done this so much better but…. I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing smut… hehe… also gojo loves to call you his gazelle… ifykyk… 👁️💌 ENJOY!
Gif not mine I found this on Pinterest so cr to owner.
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It’s absolutely embarrassing how needy he gets around you.
Satoru Gojo is helpless around you, his beautiful and dazzling girlfriend, Y/N.
One second around you and he feels his mind shut down, his heart pumping loud so hard that he’s convinced you’ve noticed the sound of his heartbeat.
One second around you and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the only name you remember is his.
He is a possessive guy, and you are unfairly gorgeous.
Gojo is territorial, he knows it’s toxic but you’re too precious to him, so he tries his best to make sure you stay with him, and only him.
People are disgusting, oh he knows, especially men.
Men are predators, you are like the most beautiful gazelle, Gojo is a man after all, he knows what goes into their [his] sick brain whenever you’re around.
You’re the most valuable person in Saturo’s life.
He can’t loose you.
So he just has to keep you happy, by any means necessary.
But, there’s this one way that he loves.
Pleasing you through sex.
He can’t help but pound into your heat like a desperate man, fuck, you feel so good that his mind feels numb, only the thoughts of you surrounding his brain.
“F-Fuck, ‘toru!” You yelp,
Gojo watches your beautiful E/C eyes, your lashes flutter, your face is scrunched as your bite your lower lip, your hands feel so hot around his back, “B-Baby harder!” He moans, too lost in his moment.
God you’re so beautiful like this.
“H-Harder, princess, please dig them in deeper!” He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing your breaths as he dives deeper into your core, the pressure makes your eyes roll back from the sensation,
Your nails are scratching his back so hard, the burn feels orgasming to him, he bites your lip hard, yet gentle and it spurs you on further,
Making Gojo whimper when you clench around him so tightly.
“F-Fuck princess! C-Can’t move..” he breaks the kiss, your eyes are now wide open as you look into your boyfriend’s wild cold coloured eyes.
“F-Fuck love you so much!”
“Please help me baby.. please..” Satoru sounds pathetic right now, be he doesn’t care, peppering kisses all over your tear stained face as you smile sweetly at him.
“‘m close turo.. so fuckin’ close!” How can you sound so cute at a moment like this, your tongue is lulling out of your mouth, your body feels so soft beneath his running palms all over your skin.
You’re a piece of art, so beautiful that it drives him insane.
“M-Me too baby, fuck, gonna cum together yeah?” His heart feels crazy, you nod, “gotta release me a little baby please..” he groans.
You feel so hot, he feels so hot.
He pushes your body deeper into the mattress, you don’t object as he buries his face into your neck, his breath chilling over your sweaty neck.
“So good, S-Satoru…” you praise your boyfriend, he whined into your embrace, you know how to get him so needy, that’s why he’s so in love with you.
You’re his everything.
He licks over your sensitive skin, grazing his teeth, he bites softly.
“Yn… gonna cum!” He’s almost about to cry, you inhale a deep breath, trying your best to loosen up a little around his length.
“D-Do it toru… let it go!” You kiss his cheeks, his breath is trembling as he whined again and again into your neck.
“You’re so… fuck.. you’re so good to me.” He loves you so much, Gojo loves you so much, you’re his everything, always so considerate.
How did he get so lucky?
“Baby… yn..” he calls out your name in the most soft voice, his lips hot against your skin, “want you to cum together w’me..”
He thrusts deeper into you, making you gulp before you can respond to him, you can see the stars as he mercilessly fucks you with all his might.
It. feels. so. good.
“I-I feel close, gojo..” you confess. He knows, he’s nodding into your hair, kissing you, “I know princess, let loose.”
He’s so gentle with his words yet so rough with his movements.
You know you can’t hold yourself back anymore.
He caresses your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you feel his hips bucking up.
You follow him, doing the same.
And before you can think of anything, you both release together.
“My gazelle… so perfect for me every single time..” he smiles, panting hard as he presses a wet kiss on your sweaty forehead,
“it’s completely okay if you get pregnant baby.”
He winks and you roll your eyes.
972 notes · View notes
rosemaryshelluverse · 3 months
Note
Alastor, Husk, and Angel with an S/O who can’t get out of bed/do certain basic functions because of depression/PTSD?
𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃, 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔.
|| synopsis : They love you so much you silly ||
|| word count : 856 ||
[ CW: fluff :P, cursing obvi, thank you for the req anon i luv u <333 ]
[ NOT!!! PROOFREAD !!!]
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Alastor
✯ As of late, Alastor had been noticing the lack of your presence more throughout his days. ✯ He wasn't one to constantly check on you, but he had begun to show signs of worry. ✯ He had asked Charlie to check on you for him, but she just knocked and when she didn't hear and answer, decided not to bother you because she was polite. ✯ However, after almost two weeks with no signs of you, he let himself into your room.
"My dearest fawn! However are you doing this ever so lovely morning?" His voice was far too loud and far too energetic for you, causing a grumble to come from under your covers. He went over to a nearby window and opened the curtains with that ever charming grin of his. "Come now my dear! Surely you must be getting tired of doing absolutely nothing!" He chirps, his voice still covered by that layer of static as he stood by your bed now. "Not now, Alastor.." You'd grumble, not even bothering to turn over and look at him. When you heard nothing but silence, you figured he'd left and tried to resume your activities of nothing at all. It shouldn't have been hard, but your covers suddenly being pulled off of you, and you being pulled up to your feet. "Oh dear! You look, absolutely terrible! Lets fix you up!" Alastor would say, almost declaring it to the entirety of hell. With a snap of his fingers he would change your clothes, fix your hair and make you smell.. much much better. "See? Isn't that much better?" He would hum and pat your head almost condescendingly.
✯ Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best at comforting or caring, but he would at least make you look better before returning to the public eye with him.
Husker
✯ It would only take a day for him to notice your absence, though he could only check on you after his shift for the hotel.
✯ He would worry all day about you, and it was obvious in his work, spilling over shot glasses and sloppily cleaning his glasses.
✯ He already knew about your past struggles with your self upkeep, seeing as he did, practically the same thing.
✯ He would show up to your home, knocking on your door and waiting a few seconds. After he got no answer he'd make his way inside.
He'd call your name once or twice, the bags in his hands rustling a bit as he began to search for you. A slight pang started in his heart as he began to fear for the worst. He eventually got to your bedroom, knocking slightly before entering. "Doll-face? You in here?" He said, his voice low. His eyes landed on the shape of your body under the covers, his worries soften. "Darlin', you doing alright?" He'd ask, setting the bags down by your door and making his way to your bed, sitting on the edge. You could only give a mumble of an answer, but he knew well enough to tell how you were feeling. He would hoist you up and hold you against his chest, not minding the state you were in. His paw ran through your hair, giving a deep sigh. "I'm here, y'know. You aren't alone in this."
✯ He'd get in in full, wanting to be there for you as much as he possibly could. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to you.
Angel Dust
✯ Angel would take no time to notice your disappearance. He knew that just by associating with him, you were at risk of getting hurt by Val.
✯ When he'd go to, 'work', his performance would lack, due to his worrying if you were somewhere in the same building, going through what he was.
✯ He'd learn a lesson or two from Valentino for this, but he considered it nothing to the guilt in his heart if he had truly gotten you into the same rut he was in.
✯ However, when he'd visit your room, and actually find you there in your bed, he would rush to your side, thinking you had either overdosed or been hurt all this time.
✯ When he found you just lying in bed, not really paying attention to the world around you, but still breathing, he would be so relieved.
"Oh my fuck, babes, you scared the tits offa me!" He would gasp, putting his second hands on his hips, crossing the other two underneath his chest fluff. When you could only mumble a tired little, 'sorry', out, he dropped his arms down to his side and kneels on your floor, making sure you could see him. His ungloved set of hands came up and cupped your face, rubbing the soft skin of your cheek before he offered a smile. "Rough week, toots? Wanna tell me about it?"
✯ After the long, peaceful talk you two had, he lifted you up out of your bed and carried you off to the bathroom, vowing to get you back to squeaky clean!
[ haiiii!! hope this is what you asked for, and i hope you like it!!!! ]
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|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 ||
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bakugoushotwife · 7 months
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kinktober day twelve: threesome kink
>>> brain go brrrr! i can only write a stsg threesome i swear it's bad these days. i just love this dynamic so bad and am clinically addicted omfg i hope u all love it as bad as i do--it is officially the longest piece thus far
>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!fem!reader x suguru geto >>> cw: mfm threesome, m/m interaction, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), spitroasting, reverse cowgirl, double penetration (same hole), overstimulation, hard dom!geto, pleasure dom!gojo, switch gojo, switch reader, squirting, creampie(s). >>> wc: 5.3k >>> event masterlist
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he’s not sure when things changed. he’d always seen you in one light, he thought: his friend, his teammate, and a powerful sorceress that made the group a triple threat. you were easy to get along with and impressive to work alongside. you were also funny and had the same taste in music as him, which was a method of bonding during your early years of school. and sure, you were also insanely beautiful, but it was inappropriate for him to have a crush on his classmate. besides, yaga says it’s best not to intermingle with other sorcerers anyways. it would only complicate things, especially as you grow to be closer friends. so geto dated around to distance himself beyond missions and tried to to forget the butterflies your smile gave him for the sake of your group. with his luck, you were probably into satoru anyway.
he’s always been in love with you, he thinks, but enjoyed playing hard to get. unlike suguru, he didn’t shy away from spending time with you. he loved to follow you around campus with his arm hooked around your waist, all big grins and pick up lines that made you roll your eyes every time. he was able to play it off on his nature, claiming that annoying you was worth every extra second of his time. he was all too fond of your amazing skill and intellect, your immense beauty and body for days was only an added benefit. gojo made it a point to train with you exclusively, something that brought the two of you closer and allowed you to see the serious side of one of your best friends. he could never bring himself to make a real move. with his luck, you were probably into suguru anyway—like everyone else. 
this delicate balance continued through the rest of your years at jujutsu tech and into your young adult years. the strongest, the curse-eater, and the girl that captured both of their hearts–and connected theirs to each other. gojo was able to satiate himself on his little touches and glimpses of your flustered smiles, shamelessly jerking off at night to the daydreams he has of his precious little girl best friend bouncing on his cock and moaning his name. geto tries to delude himself into feeling like a protective older brother, making it his job to monitor your safety and suitors. but no matter how much he tries, his hand still finds his cock in the comfort of his own bed in the middle of the night, shamefully pleasuring himself to the idea of having your body rocking beneath him and his hand around your neck. 
everything gets worse—or better, depending on who you ask— when you all move in together. it was gojo’s idea, claiming his home was too big for just one singular man. so of course he would invite you to come live with him, he hoped to make you woman of the house at some point in the future anyway, so why not now? he extends the same invitation to his other best friend, only because he knows geto would kill him for taking you for himself. the men were close, closer than most friends in multiple ways, so it was no mystery that their shared crush on you eventually became common knowledge. neither of them minded the competition, seemingly convinced he would win your heart on his own before the other could do the same—or in the worst case scenario they would share you! (and whose idea do you think that was?) 
            but they had to up the ante. 
it started small, geto dropped all his flings, even earning a few comments from you about how lonely he must be with his lack of company these days. he always chuckles and give you that suave smile of his, purring out a it’s time i get serious with a wink. he offered to make dinner nightly, making sure the brunt of housework didn’t fall on you since you were already on laundry duty. he always gave you rather selfish relationship advice, making sure you knew how differently he would treat a woman. it wasn’t lost on you, nor were gojo’s efforts.
he encouraged you to take his card and go crazy, often accompanying you on shopping sprees for the house and making sure you leave with an armful of new clothes and whatever else your eyes lingered on too long. satoru showed you his serious side, keeping the house regularly dusted and the floors cleaned, insisting a family should clean up after themselves and not keep servants to make their lives more detached. he invested in your hobbies, letting you try to teach him how to knit, play video games, even trying to do a little book club with you—that unfortunately, suguru was better at, much to his disappointment. 
you weren’t dim, you could tell what was happening. you had your suspicions for a while, the two of them practically glued to your sides at all times nowadays—unless one of you was away on a mission, which happened far too often for their liking. you would be lying if you said their attention didn’t make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, the two were easily the strongest sorcerers the world had to offer if you didn’t take one of those spots for yourself. they were both undeniably gorgeous in their own ways—so how could you possibly choose? your forced obliviousness is the only thing keeping you three firmly planted in friendshipville. though, it’s been more than obvious that you haven’t been seeing anyone outside of them, thank god, and you’re getting antsy. you have to apply more pressure, figure out something that would push them over the edge. you had to keep them competing for you since you couldn’t pick one over the other on your own. aha, you’ve got it—it’s low, scheming even, but you’re growing desperate. you’d just have to dust off your best acting skills and sluttiest outfit. 
it was late that night. you knew the boys were still awake, able to hear their laughter from your room. with one final and steadying breath, you peeked into the living room. they were sitting together on the couch watching a movie that was forgotten about as soon as you walked in, the soft sound of your door closing behind drawing their attention. you were evil in your cropped tank that made it painfully clear that was the only thing covering your perky tits, and it didn’t stop there. you didn’t bother with shorts, a cute thong cupping your pussy and sitting along those glorious wide hips. they could die–the effect you have is clear immediately. suguru clutches a throw pillow over his lap, hoping to smoothly hide the throbbing erection just looking at you gave him, while satoru only makes his more obvious by spreading his legs—at least geto tried to respect you. their eyes are practically bulging from their heads, suguru’s lip was between his teeth meanwhile satoru’s curls into a smirk. 
“you guys are being so loud out here.” you bat your eyes innocently, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger as you let your gaze bounce between them. gojo slides his glasses off, a bit starstruck as he sets them aside and looks over to suguru, needing him to be on the same page. 
“sorry princess,” satoru pouts, patting the spot in between him and geto. “since you’re up…why don’t you hang out with us?” you note the greed swimming in those all-seeing eyes. you force some bashfulness. 
“oh–dressed like this?” you rotate your hips a little bit to further your point and suguru has to clench his jaw tight to not groan aloud. “i wouldn't wanna make you guys uncomfortable.” 
“you won’t.” suguru blurts out, tucking some of his overgrown bangs behind his ear. satoru nods his agreement. 
“yeah! you’re our girl, you could never make us uncomfortable.” the white headed one says, cunningly petting the cushion again. you smirk to yourself, giving them a faux-reluctant nod before striding to sit. your ass ripples as you step past suguru, and his dick throbs pathetically. as soon as your back touches the couch, satoru’s arm is around your waist to tug your upper half into a lean; then suguru puts a massive paw over your thigh, kneading and stroking the exposed skin gently. they’re both so close, the heavy feeling of their hands on your skin was intoxicating; you could hardly tell where one stopped and the other one began. their scents were so overbearing, suguru’s spicy cinnamon and bourbon contrasted the honeyed vanilla sweetness of satoru so perfectly it had you drunk and losing sight of your master plan before anything had even really happened. but don’t worry, they’ll take very good care of you. you’ve gotten the ball rolling, which is good enough, right? 
they pretend to keep their eyes on the tv, heads forward like they don’t notice what the other was doing. satoru’s hand starts to creep under the hemline of your tank top, sinewy fingers long enough to brush against the underside of your breast. you hum softly at the touch, only encouraging the lean man to do it again. suguru watches patiently, waiting for more of your approval. you burrow deeper in his side, pushing your chest out even further. he could practically giggle with excitement at your eagerness. suguru scoots closer, sliding his arm across your lower back to grab handfuls of your thick ass free to fondle thanks to your slutty panties. your weight falls back to the middle, wanting to give geto more of your attention. he smiles at satoru at the action, taking it as a sign of your affection. the other man rolls his eyes, leaning into your side to nuzzle your cheek. 
the black haired man does the same into your neck, their hands kneading and rubbing and stroking your skin. you lean your head back against the couch, throwing your arms around them to encourage them further with a blissed out grin of your own. 
“our slutty little roommate came dressed like that for a reason.” satoru snickers, bringing his other hand to cradle your jawline, tossing a wink towards his dark haired counterpart. 
you hum, prying your eyes open to look at him with a smirk. “course i did…just like you asked me to move in for a reason and sugu gives me back massages for a reason.” you muse, humming as you walk your fingers down their spines. they look at each other with slight surprise, clearly they thought you were unsuspecting of them all this time. you chuckle softly, trailing your digits down their arms to close around their wrists, moving their massive hands to your chest, a boob each. you smirk at them. “everything that’s about to go down is only because i want it to happen, understand?” 
you look at gojo first, reveling in his amused expression. he hadn’t expected you to take over and become the boss, but he wasn’t necessarily opposed either. it was sexy to think that he had fallen for your trap, and not the other way around. he’d happily do anything that you wanted, all he wanted was you. you arch your brow and he nods dumbly, nuzzling into your cheek again to show his devotion. no woman had tamed him before, but it wouldn’t be so bad to start now, especially not when the woman in question is his very sexy best friend. you give him a soft smile of approval before turning to the real work, geto. 
many women had tried and failed to tame him, and he thought it was pretty funny each and every time. but now here you are, his gorgeous lady best friend, prepared to tell him what to do and exactly how to do it. now that was just plain adorable. you could see see the flames of intrigue flicker in his obsidian eyes, a gaze so intense it made you shrink into satoru a little bit. suguru was being hand gifted the only thing he’s ever wished for, but he would still have it on his terms. he squeezes down harshly on your breast, making you squirm. “cute. we wanted this longer though, so. how about you listen to me instead?” 
you scoff, looking down at his hand on you. “don’t act so bold now, sugu. if you wanted to be in charge, you should have acted like it.” you tease, and even gojo smirks behind you. he thought it would be pretty amusing to watch you two battle for dominance, though he’s smart enough to capitalize on an opportunity when he sees one. he pulls you against him, kneading your hips and giving your exposed neck sweet sloppy kisses, all playing into your favor. “maybe i’ll let you give out orders next time–but if you want to be a diva, i’ll just fuck satoru—i’m sure he’s more than enough.” 
the mentioned man hums, happy to be in your good graces and your leveraging tool. nothing drives suguru crazier than watching gojo get all the attention. geto gives you a look of dissatisfaction, only pushing you to climb onto your lanky friend’s lap, smiling down at him like an angel from heaven. gojo thought he may die right here. you’re perfect, the way your weight feels in his lap pressing up against his semi is so glorious already he’s afraid he may embarrass himself. his hands find your waist, and he’s looking up to you like he has no idea what to do next. he really is so clueless that it’s adorable. satoru acted like a pussy magnet, which wasn’t necessarily wrong since he is so gorgeous, powerful, and tall, but he never knew how to interact with them—especially since all his fantasies consisted of you, anyway. you smile down at him again and he knows it will be alright, that he’ll do what he does best and learn on the fly—he has to make you feel good. 
“take my shirt off, baby.” you coo to him, lifting your arms a bit so he could peel it off. He leans forward unsurely, almost looking to geto for approval before he pinches the fabric and brings it over your head. your tits fall from the little tank top holding them in place, a beautifully heavy chest with pebbled buds wait, calling gojo’s name. his face turns red and he looks up to you for the next order, feeling his semi grow into a full blown problem. geto watches you with narrowed eyes, aching bulge straining against his pants still, and you were only making it worse. he curses himself for being enamored with someone like you, an expert in pushing buttons. you’re his woman whether you know it or not, and he’s only willing to share you with his bestest of friends, even if you were grating on his last nerve. 
“do what feels natural, sato.” you breathe out, focused on the way his eyes grow at your permission and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. he’s been fixated on you as long as he can remember, and now it was his time to prove that he was the one for you. he drags your hips closer, wanting you to feel his erection pressing into that tiny thong you had the nerve to put on. you gasp in surprise, though a giggle quickly replaces the sound. you rest your arms on his shoulders, content to twirl locks of snowy white around your fingers. he groans at the sensation, struggling to keep his head on straight already. your body is so warm beneath his hands, so soft and pliable. you duck your head down to kiss him, and he tilts his head up to receive it. it swallows up all his senses, tunneling out everything around him to only focus on your touch, taste, and smell. he’s hungry, eager to prove his worth as a lover, wanting nothing else but to make you feel good. he grabs at your hips to feel you closer, and you indulge by circling your movements in his lap. he moans into your mouth as he feels your tits brush up against his shirt, making him break the kiss and lean back so he could get it off. he does it so quick that you aren’t prepared for his mouth to smack up against yours again, teeth clashing. you giggle again, enchanted by his boyish charm and overwhelming affection for you. it was sweet, and even though he was inexperienced, his kisses were full of passion and heat. 
geto had mixed feelings. on one hand, you looked magnificent. your body is like nothing he’s ever seen before, almost to the point of unfairness. no woman could ever compare after this. he’d either have to marry you or be forever disappointed. but, on the other hand, you were wiggling around in gojo’s lap instead of his, and that’s only tolerable for so long. gojo is lucky still, if it were anyone else there would be no tolerance at all. but his patience is wearing thin, especially once you start letting little moans of your own go because of satoru’s big hands massaging your tits and his bulge catching on your puffy clothed clit. you even sound angelic, and it’s pissing him off. this was just a display of your power over them, but suguru wanted to teach a few lessons of his own. he scoots closer, letting his hands mingle around with satoru’s, feeling the dips of your body. 
you can feel his touch, easily differentiating between satoru and suguru. your lanky friend’s hands were slimmer and warmer–moving around clumsily. your dark locked counterpart moved with more experience, his fingers thicker and rougher. you smirk at his impatience, clearly not able to be as obedient as dear satoru. you knew it would go like this, with gojo doing anything to please you and geto vying for control himself. you didn’t mind—you know it would push gojo to compete. 
geto wastes no time in pulling you off of gojo’s lap and into his own, much to his friend’s disappointment. you give him a pointed look, brow raised and all, but you still wrap your arms around his shoulders the same way you did your other bestie. he smirks up at you, expecting nothing but your compliance once he sees how wet gojo got you. he can tell from the look in your eyes that you don’t have a lot of fight left in you despite the way you act, and that’s perfect for him. he plans to make you brainless, able to remember nothing but him anyway. 
“greedy much?” you tease, tossing a look to the pouty white-haired boy watching with contempt. suguru shrugs. 
“hardly, just proving that he is not all you need.” he smiles up at you innocently, raking his touch over your thighs. unlike gojo, he knows exactly how to work you up and melt in his hands. gojo harrumphs in the corner of the couch. geto’s brow creeps up even though his head is laxly leaned back against the sofa. he watches you like he owns you, and you love the contrast between the two boys. you roll your eyes and lean down to kiss him anyway, and his lips tell you that the show is over. he gnashes his teeth against your lip, making you squeal and open up for him, wherein he promptly shoves his tongue in to smother yours out. your fingers card through the black tresses cascading over his shoulders and down his back as you hum into his mouth. he’s humming at your eagerness, letting his hand drift from the meaty parts of your hips over to the wet patch on your panties, grinning when you gasp. he works his deft fingers over your heat, and gojo makes a strangled noise as he watches you lewdly suck on geto’s tongue. you let your hips roll into his hand, his other one coming down on your rippling ass. you moan softly, prompting him to spank you again, much to satoru’s enjoyment.  
“s’fat, looks so pretty when you do that.” he compliments his friend, shoving out of his pants in anticipation of what comes next. his hand grabs around his proud length, pumping the curved shaft for minimal relief. geto hisses, feeling your hips move desperately towards your own release. he slaps your ass a third time, making you groan out and toss your head back, the picture of a perfect mess. 
“gonna cum already?” he tsked, though the smirk on his face betrays him. you nod, tugging on the roots of his hair hard enough to cause a little sting. satoru groans, tired of watching and desperate for any form of aid, but you’re too intoxicating to rush. “then cum.” he demands, stopping his touch. 
he knew he had pushed you far enough already, feeling your pelvis stutter against his hand. he watches you come undone, digging pearly white teeth into swollen lips as you dampen your panties another level. he doesn’t give you any type of reprieve before he’s pushing and tugging and arranging you for his preference on the cluttered couch. your brain is foggy already, clit throbbing from satoru’s craze and suguru’s abuse. he’s got you on all fours, face positioned over a huge cock nestled in trimmed white hair. 
“be easy on her, satoru.” geto warns as gojo gets to his knees, fisting your hair to get your attention. if you enjoyed suguru’s dominance then he would try some of his own. he directs your mouth over his leaky tip, and you stick out your tongue to encourage him. he nearly shudders just from that, and you whine at the feeling of geto sliding his hands down your ass and thighs with his breath fanning over your shiny hole. you’re gagging on satoru’s length hitting the back of your throat as suguru his fat tongue licks a teasingly slow stripe down your slit. you can’t help but pressed yourself further back into his muscle and force yourself down to the hilt of satoru. he groans loudly, giving you a taste of your own medicine with how he pulls on your hair. he guides you along him, amazed at how much better you feel than his hand. your velvet cheeks feel so wet and warm, it’s amazing he doesn’t cum down your throat instantly. meanwhile geto eats you from the back, sucking on your lips and nudging up against your bud in alternating motions, making your head cloud up with dizziness. that could be from the lack of air you’re able to get in around gojo’s cock stuffing your mouth, tears sliding down your flustered cheeks and drool spilling out around him. he’s whimpering, the sound of him coupled with squelching from both ends had suguru grunting into your folds, letting your sweet essence dribble down his chin. he’s grabbing handfuls of your ass, bruising and smacking the fat. your hands explore the lean expanse that is satoru’s body, muscular thighs keeping you steady and flexing abs making you clench around your other friend’s tongue. 
“gah, this—is amazing–fu-huck.” satoru whines, fisting your hair as his cock jumps at the sight of you. you moan your approval, pussy spasming for geto once again without warning, releasing on his face this time. your vision is already blurring, pleasure ripping through you all at once. he’s drunk on the taste of you, sitting upright on his knees as he scoops some of your cum out, coating his fingers with the slick. he may be the slightest bit possessive, but what’s his is gojo’s, and he had to let the other man taste you and get just as pussydrunk as he is. his other hand tugs you off his friend’s dick with a pop, pushing his hardness to the crack of your ass. he leans over you, body like a slab of concrete as he extends his hand to gojo. he leans up immediately, and you’re amazed at the sight of satoru sucking your juice off of suguru’s fingers, moaning slightly at your taste. geto smirks at him, settling back to his original spot. gojo grins widely as he wipes some residual tears from your face. 
“she’s so pretty, tell her suguru.” he sings, pushing some hair out of your face as the aforementioned wraps a beefy arm around your waist and pulls you to a sitting position against him. he’s so solid, you can feel how thick and long he is against your back, and it makes you tingle with need like you haven’t came twice already. he pulls you along as he repositions himself, sitting on the couch like it’s intended to be used for with you balanced on his abdomen. 
“oh of course, our pretty lady is the only girl i see.” suguru croons, pulling your hair into a ponytail just because he could. you look down at his cock, biting down on your lip at the sight. he was an inch or two shorter than gojo, but made up for it with his thickness. he had veins running along the shaft much like his muscular arms, and a dark tip growing impatient. they were perfect, you knew they would please you in different ways, but you had to have them both. 
when satoru gets to his feet and stands in front of you, pale fingers stroking his pretty cock, you knew that was their plan. 
geto snakes his hands to your thighs, prying them apart with little resistance from you. he lifts you with this grip, lowering you down all at once on him. he chuckles when you hiss and squirm at the stretch, feeling like a hot knife just gutted you. suguru continues sinking his hips into the cushions below and slamming them back up into you, locking eyes with his best friend eagerly awaiting his turn. you were a whimpering mess, falling back against the man railing you and leaving him responsible for holding you upright as your head finds home on his shoulder. 
“if i go easy on you now, you won’t be able to fit us.” suguru explains with a labored breath, your walls so tight he didn’t know if you’d be able to take them anyhow—but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. you nod your understanding, moving your hips to help his strokes hit even deeper. you already feel so full, you can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like when satoru tries to push in. “so fucking wet for your best friends, you’ll take us, won’t you?” 
you nod vigorously. it feels like you’re floating, every snap of suguru’s hips slammed his cock impossibly deeper. you knew your little act of control would only last so long, but it worked beautifully. if not for you, they’d probably be jacking off to you for the foreseeable future. 
“say it, wanna hear it from our girl’s mouth.” he coos, the tone of his voice so contradictory to what he actually says. it makes your pussy squeeze him anyway. 
“wanna take my best friend’s cocks.” you babble, feeling satoru’s hands on your waist again. 
“and what else?” suguru groans, almost irritated that your pussy fucked this good and you’ve had the nerve to keep it to yourself all this time. his hand closes around your throat this time, trusting satoru to keep you from falling over. you were so pliable and it was such a treat to hear you talk like this. 
“and i’m soaking wet for you both, god–stop teasin’.” you whine, batting your eyes at satoru. he’s sympathetic to your cause, wanting nothing more than to shove his rod deep in you and wonder who makes you feel better, not keen to wait for orders anymore, eager to earn your praise. suguru has your legs spread open perfectly; so while geto snickers from your answer, gojo steps forward and shoves his cock over his best friend’s and into your choking cunt. the feeling takes even suguru aback as you cry out from the stretch. It’s impossible, it’s too much, you feel like they’ll break you in half if they start to move, but the burning subsides, your fingers digging at gojo’s chest when suguru starts to move. 
all three of you moan. it’s too good not to, your cunt locking the men against each other, rubbing against your silken walls and the bumpy texture of the other’s ridges was the best way to fuck, they found out. suguru is slow, and prompts gojo to go even slower, feeling you loosen up as the pressure of them in your gut only makes you delirious. you’re so loud, nasty moans and curses coming from your lips as their pace increases, the two men locked in competition to make you and even the other cum first. satoru leans in, pressing his rock hard abdomen against you and deepening his angle. he has to balance himself by bracing his hand on suguru’s other shoulder, both of you close enough to kiss. this was how it was always meant to be, the three of you. he gives you a sloppy kiss, his free hand cupping your cheek to tell you how much this means to him. geto’s caught up in the moment, he tells himself, but everything feels so clear. they were never in competition—you needed them both, and he needed you both, and satoru needed the two of you both. then he feels it, a sloppy kiss meant for him, and he hums in realization. it wasn’t much different from kissing you, though satoru certainly needed the practice. you moan lewdly, the sounds of your cunt being stuffed and their grunts and groans of pleasure provide the soundtrack as they work in tandem to drive you crazy. 
“g’na–ngh–cum boys, ohhh~” you cry, legs starting to shake in suguru’s grip. they break their kiss to watch you jerk and jump, fucking into you as deep as their hips will allow. Satoru presses his fingers to your clit, hoping to increase your cute little spasms, but what you do instead is even sexier. you push at his shoulders, a clear liquid gushing and spraying over his abdomen and dripping down your cunt to cover suguru’s balls, leaving them both gaping in amazement. 
“that’s a good fucking girl, shit–” suguru mumbles, watching satoru’s face scrunch up in overwhelming pleasure. he doesn’t warn you, holding your hips down to receive all of his cum, the hot feeling making you writhe and moan in his lap to send satoru spurting too. it’s so much, the burning warmth in your gut, their seed mixing together inside of you and gushing out around them both, making such a mess you’re almost embarrassed. satoru slumps forward to kiss you all over, mumbling out thanks for letting them destroy you like this as he lifts you off of suguru, cuddling up with you—mess be damned. you’re panting, sensitive, and dripping but you can’t stop grinning at your success. suguru rolls his eyes at satoru’s childishness, but it really just amuses him. he’d rather you have company as he cleans up the messes anyway, cleaning you and even satoru up before himself. satoru spoons you from behind and suguru shoves himself on the couch to hold you the other way, content at his display of power over the two strongest sorcerers in the room. everyone settles their breathing and into a lull of peace, the only sound in the room was the forgotten movie on the flatscreen, until. 
“hey—i didn’t get to eat her outtttttt.” gojo whines, squeezing your body. you laugh, expecting geto to do the same, but he entertains this argument. 
“you got your dick sucked—i didn’t get that—”
“we have plenty of time to even the score, shut up and let me sleep before i use my technique to un-fuck you.” you giggle. 
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authorhjk1 · 3 months
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The Roman Goddess (part II)
Sana X Male Reader
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The taxi ride to her hotel feels like it's taking hours. Her white top still shows hints of your last moment alone. Since then, the two of you met not a lot of people. Only a couple of oblivious visitors and the taxi driver.
The later was staring at her for a couple of moments as the two of you got in. It wasn't your place to say something, she is married after all. But you can't really blame him.
Even after you just had her kneeling half naked in front of you, you still glance at her every two seconds.
You still feel like you are dreaming. How you managed to pull it off still remains a mystery to you. Or maybe she was looking for someone anyway? And you were just the first guy to hit on her?
Maybe. And even if that's the case, you don't really care. As long as she is taking you to her hotel room, you don't care why she is doing this.
"What's your name by the way?"
The taxi driver's radio is too loud for him to understand what the two of you are saying. Italian words echo through the car.
The young woman raises an eyebrow.
"Now you are curious? After you came on me?"
You feel your cheeks heating up, but you see how the left corner of her mouth moves upwards a little.
"Y-You asked me to."
She tilts her head as if she is trying to recall the scene in the museum.
"You sound like I forced you to do that."
Somehow she did. Or at least her body. Who wouldn't want to cum on her chest? Especially if she says she wants it?
"So?"
You brake the silence after a couple of moments. Although it's anything but quiet in the car. As far as you can tell, the driver is listening to a soccer game.
"I'm not sure if I should tell you."
"I just came on your chest. Shouldn't you trust me by now?"
You see her smirking, intrigued by the way you used her words against her.
"I won't tell you my name. Just in case."
She finally turns her head towards you, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"Just call me Venus."
"Venus?"
You can't help but chuckle.
"Didn't we already establish that you are like Aphrodite?"
'Venus' shrugs her shoulders. An elegant gesture coming from her.
"You said that Venus was more important."
You nod quietly.
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You feel out of place. You've never been to such a hotel before. Everything looks expensive. The white marble floor, the cedar wooden reception desk, the golden elevator doors with pretty engravings.
The lobby just looks insane to you. But Venus just walks through the big hall, her head raised high, her confident stride makes her heels klick on the floor.
Trailing behind her, you see how well dressed everyone is. It's not like your outfit sucks, a simple white shirt and jeans, but the other guests are wearing suits and dresses.
"Mrs. Minatozaki."
The receptionist greets her, handing her the key for her room. Her name sounds Japanese.
"And this is a package that just arrived. It's for you."
"Thank you."
Venus, or Mrs. Minatozaki, takes the small box and walks towards the elevator. You follow her, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.
As soon as she throws the package on the bed, she turns around. You tried to see what her room looked like, or rather suite, but her intense gaze makes you focus on her.
"Come here."
She whispers, slinging her arms around your neck. You lean down, meeting her halfway as the two of you start to indulge into each other's lips.
You realize that your hands once again are exploring her body. As if you can't get enough. Her curves feel so good underneath the fabric.
"Fuck, your lips taste so good,-"
You catch her pause.
"I need a name for you too."
Her lips leave yours, before they kiss your cheek, moving towards your neck.
"Any suggestions? It should fit mine."
It's hard to concentrate, when you have a woman like Venus kissing your neck. Impossible even. But you luckily know your way around Roman mythology.
"Mars."
You feel one of her hands slide down your back.
"Mars fits the theme."
"And who is that?"
You don't know if she is pretending or not, but you feel her hand reaching your crotch. Yours are on her waist. Still amazed by how small it is, you try your best to explain.
"The Roman god of war. And agriculture."
You feel her chuckle into your neck.
"That's an interesting combination."
"Well,.. "
You can't stop it. Your history nerd side comes back to life. Despite the fact that Venus is slowly letting her fingers glide over your jeans.
"That combination is a characteristic of early Rome. Military and farming both have their peak during the summer. It makes sense to me."
You feel her bite you skin slightly.
"Are you gonna keep talking? Or do you want to fuck?"
"T-The second one."
"Me too. Mars."
She whispers, before backing away.
It feels weird to be called by a name of a god.
"Give me just a minute."
Venus takes the package and disappears into the bathroom.
Standing alone, you are not quite sure what to do. Take your clothes off? Stand in place? Get on the bed?
Your eyes roam the big room as you realize how much this must cost. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand a night or something.
Even the bed looks like the best you've ever seen. It's almost three times as big as yours. Golden ornaments are decorating its wooden bed frame.
You decide to get rid off your clothes. A moment later you are lying on the soft mattress, only in your underwear. Then, the door opens. You feel your jaw dropping in amazement.
Venus leans against the white doorframe.
Her black lace bra shows her porcelain like skin underneath. Her tits look a little bigger than before. Her panties match her bra. Black lace. It shows of how small her waist is. Her toned stomach really makes her look like a goddess. The black straps that connect her stockings with her panties each have a golden ring in the middle. The heels she is wearing complete her all black outfit
"I see you like it?"
You look down at your crotch. That's a very clear yes.
Watching her walk over to you almost makes you drool. Her hips sway from left to right, her hair, now lose, follows the same rhythm.
"I don't even remember the last time my pussy was filled."
She crashes down on you, not giving you time to react, when she reaches the bed. Landing on top of you, you feel her center rub against yours. Her hands in your hair. Her lips on yours once again.
The two of you exchange a passionate kiss, her hands slowly going through your hair. Yours are traveling down her back, until they reach their destination. You squeeze her cheeks, making Venus moan into your mouth.
"Naughty boy."
She coos, before she slides down your body. Her tits graze your covered crotch in the process. Once her face is on the right hight, she pulls your boxers off.
"I've already missed this so much."
She sighs, before diving in. Without a word of warning, you feel how Venus swallows your cock. Her warm mouth makes you groan as you sink into the cushions.
Reaching down, you hold her hair back as her head bobs up and down. Her blowjob is messy. Her saliva is starting to get everywhere. Your cock, your balls, your thighs, the mattress.
The only thing you can do is watch. Her eyes lock onto yours, trying to stare into your soul.
"Fuck."
You groan, unable to withstand her attack.
"So delicious."
She murmurs as she let's her tongue dance along your shaft, before taking you back into her mouth.
You can feel how impatient she is. Her blowjob is gaining in pace, her hands moving along your thighs. She starts to fuck her face onto your cock.
With a load groan, you almost cum right there. She pulls away early enough. Your disappointment is quickly replaced by heart pounding excitement.
"Eat me, please."
She gets on her knees, pulling her panties to the side. The mouth watering view almost gives you goosebumps. Her folds are wet, her pussy cleanly shaven.
You pull her hips towards you, making Venus sit on your face. Her pussy tastes even better than it looks. You can't get enough after only one lick. Her hands are in your hair again, forcing you to bury yourself even deeper into her core.
"Yes, baby."
She sighs, her head rolling back. Your pace quickens as you insert a finger into her wet core, while you lick her clit. Her velvet walls clench around you, dying for any friction at all.
"More. More!"
Her moans become louder, her whines needier.
At one point, she starts to ride your face. Your finger is still inside of her, egging her on.
"So close. The museum made me so wet."
You can feel her orgasm slowly approaching. Her pussy clenches around your finger even harder.
"Fuck!"
She almost shouts as she cums on your face.
Her sweet nectar tastes like peaches as you are forced to drink it, her hands keeping you in place.
"That was so good."
She sighs, her body visibly relaxing on top of you.
"I don't even remember the last time..."
She trails off, glancing down at you.
"I need you inside of me, Mars. Fuck me hard."
You tighten the grip on her waist, suddenly sitting up. It makes her fall off you and she lands on her back. You are now kneeling in front of her wet core, your cock grazing her folds.
"Give it to me."
She watches with a satisfied look on her face as you start to penetrate her pussy. Her tightness makes it hard to fit all of your cock inside of her in one go. You have to slowly ease in and out a couple of times, until you finally bottom out.
"Fuck, you are big."
She sighs as she feels how you fill her. Her pussy hugs your cock as tight as it can.
Her hands grab the sheets as you start to fuck Venus. Her body rocks back and forth on the mattress. Your hands are placed on her hips as you enjoy her pussy. It almost feels like she is made for you.
"More!"
Her head sinks into the sheets as you start to fuck her harder. Her legs wrap around you, trapping you, not allowing you to go anywhere but deeper. Not that you mind. If you could only stay inside of her forever...
Your body moves on its own, driven by your carnal desires. Every thrust makes her breasts jiggle slightly, despite the fact that they are still secure inside her bra. Her eyes are staring up at you, tracing the drops of sweat that form on your forehead, before they fall onto your chest or her tummy.
"Gosh, your cock..."
You see how her eyes become smaller, until they finally close. Her mouth is slightly open, moan after moan escaping her pretty lips.
"How are you so tight?"
You can't help but wonder. How is she this perfect? That face of hers would already be enough for every man to fall for her. But her body turns you into a slave to your animalistic instincts. And her pussy.. You can't describe it with words.
It feels like you are in paradise. And at the same time, you feel something like guilt. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be fucking her. She is a married woman. And yet, that fact somehow turns you on even more.
Venus should be off limits to you. Because she is way out of your league. And because she is married. But here you are. Fucking her, while she whines and mewls, asking you to go faster.
For a moment, you wonder if she is alone in Rome. Or is her husband with her? You haven't thought about this possibility yet. That he and her might have spent the night right here. In this bed. In the bed you are fucking his wife on.
"Fuck!"
Her loud moan brings you back to reality.
"I need it rougher! More!"
It's starting to feel like she just can't get enough.
You start to slow down, wanting to try another position. Maybe you can fuck her even deeper that way.
"Get up and turn around."
Venus seems to like the idea. She gets on all fours her ass facing you.
"Put it back in."
She smiles as she looks over her shoulder.
You let your hands run along her beautifully shaped cheeks. You knead them a couple of times, before you aling yourself with her wet cavern once again.
"Fuck me hard."
It's a mixture of plea and command.
Venus moans when you thrust forward, impaling her with your cock.
"Oh god!"
You lean over her, grabbing both of her arms. Pulling them back, you make her kneel. Only your hands on her arms keep her upright.
Fucking her from behind feels better than missionary. You are able to penetrate her deeper. You are able to rock her body back and forth properly. And you can really pull her onto your cock.
But as you keep pounding into her, her hair starts to fall, swinging from left to right. It hits her face, whenever you pull at her arms and thrust into her. She has to close her mouth, letting out needy whimpers. But she can't hold it in for very long. And soon, she has some of her own hair in her mouth as she moans for more.
The only downside is, you can't see her face. Her gorgeous features must be twisted in pleasure, but you are missing out on seeing them. Her hair starts to have a life on its own as the pace and force of your thursts increase. It starts to cover parts of her face, while most of it is still resting against her back.
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You focus on the rhythm of your thrusts as you feel how deep you are inside of her. It feels like her pussy is getting better and better by the second. Your own pleasure increases, the harder you fuck her.
"Fuck!"
Venus suddenly cums around your cock. You missed the fact that she has been dead silent for the last couple of moments. Now, she is letting it all out again. Lewd words spill from her lips, just like her juices spill out of her pussy. She starts to stain the sheets underneath, almost slipping because of her own liquids.
Her orgasm overwhelms you, bringing you closer towards your own edge. You have been holding on for now, but the sight of Venus cuming right in front of you eventually proves too much.
You feel how you are growing tired, her pussy contracting around you with every thrust into it.
"I think I'm gonna cum!"
You groan, trying to warn Venus.
"Paint me! Stain me with your cum!"
She mewls as she feels you picking up the pace one last time. Her hair is still in her face, but she is unable to put it back. Her arms still behind her.
"Fuck."
You sigh as you finally pull out. You let go of her arms, letting Venus fall face first into the mattress. You hold your cock in your hand as you start to climax. Your cum hits her back. Rope after rope starts to stain her skin. Just like she wanted. Some of it gets onto the bra wire, the white globes visible on the black fabric.
"Fuck, I needed that."
You hear her mumble into the sheets, her voice muffled by the white cotton.
You still can't fully grasp what you just did. As soon as she came out of the bathroom it felt like someone else was controlling your body. It felt incredible nonetheless.
As you see Venus lying on her stomach in front of you, your cum on her back, you wonder what else there is to do. There is so much. There is so much the two of you could do. You whish you could explore even more of her body. To feel every inch of her skin.
When Venus finally turns her head to look up at you, you see her smile. Her eyes tell you that she is thinking the same thing.
"How do you want to fuck me next?"
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wriothesleybear · 25 days
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I just had some wild thoughts….just something about reader not wanting wrio to pulls out even after he came like 😀😀 the reader would just wraps their leg around him and begs him to stay inside
I’m not sure if you’re looking for a wholesome, fluffy version or a spicy, smut version anon so I’ll do both! Enjoy!~ (Also, shoutout to my coworker for helping me think of male scents for Wrio. She a real one lmao)
~Sfw Version~
~warnings: mention of sex/orgasms, cockwarming, otherwise just fluff, snuggling, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!
His sweaty body falls ontop of yours as you both breathe heavily, hearts beating fast as you come down from the euphoric high orgasm. Once he gains his awareness, he pushes off of you as to not crush you with his muscled weight. As he was about to pull his cock out so he could lay next to you, his movements are stopped as you wrap your legs around his hips. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for a little longer.” You beg as you look up at him with a needy look. How could he say no to you, especially since you look so glorious laid out on his sheets like that. He chuckles and flips you two around so you’re straddling his lap, cock fit snuggly inside your pussy as he wraps his arms around you. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. Sweat with the hint of aftershave and the smell of spice and black vanilla. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you press a kiss to his skin. Smiling, he uses one hand to comb his fingers through your hair as his other arm wraps securely around your hips, keeping you close. “We’ll stay like this just a little longer, then I’ll run us a bath, my dear.” You only reply with a mumble, eyes getting heavy as exhaustion overtakes you. The calming pace of his steady breathing, the secure hold he has on you, and the mesmerizing touch of his fingers in your hair easily lulls you to sleep. It’s not long until slight snores can be heard from you. Smiling, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, then closes his eyes to bask in the serene moment of closeness and silence.
~Nsfw Version~
~warnings: smut, mentions of grinding, cum, cockwarming, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!
Laying on top of you, he holds his upper half up while his head rests in the crook of your neck, he breathes heavily as he tries to gain his senses from the mindbreaking orgasm he just had. Once his cock finally finishes spurting his warm seed inside of you, he begins to pull out until he’s stopped by your legs wrapping around his hips. He’s caught off guard for a second and gives you a questioning look. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull his face close to yours and look deeply into his eyes. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for just a little longer. Please?” You beg then peck his lips. He replies with pulling you into another kiss. This one deeper and longer, more passionate. Your tongues interwine as the kiss turns more intense. You moan into the kiss as his hands explore your skin, groping your most sensitive areas. You smirk as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy. “I see I’m not the only one who wants more.”
“Can you blame me? How can I not get hard from kissing your sweet, delicious lips and hearing the sinful moans that leave them.” He kisses you again, lips moving from your mouth, down to your chin, to your neck, to lick and nibble on the already bitten skin. Tilting your head to give him more access, your eyes close and your hips involuntarily move against his as you whisper his name. “Fuck,” he quietly curses. His hips grind against yours, pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit, as he searches for that pleasurable friction. Your hands grab his ass, helping to guide him to rub harder against your clit. Your nails dig into his skin, causing him to groan and bite harder onto your neck. The bed creaks and bumps against the wall from your movements. It doesn’t take long until you’re both shaking from the immense pleasure as you cum on his cock and he spills into you once again. He falls unto his side and pulls you close to him, keeping his cock snuggled in you. Rubbing your back, you both try to steady your breathing and fast heartbeats. Once calm, you both look at one another and break into a giggling fit. “That was..wow.” Wrio says as his laughter subsides. “I suppose I should tell you not to pull out sooner.” You teasingly flirt. He smiles at you and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Once you two pull away, you press your forehead to his, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you, Wrio.” His hold on you tightens. “I love you too, my Duchess.” He presses one final kiss to your forehead and holds you close in his arms as you two finally succumb to sleep. 
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honeyskywitch · 1 month
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prettier than a peach (john "bucky" egan x reader)
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In which you're his favorite nurse, and John Egan tries his hardest to win your heart.
Words: 1.8K
Warnings: Bucky Egan is a warning all on his own. Fluffy, fluffy fluff.
Disclosure: Please do not copy my work on any other sites. I will be posting this here & on ao3 shortly. This fic is based on the characters brought to life in the Apple TV series Masters of the Air, not the real people the characters were based on.
Note: Peach!Reader is going to make many appearances, I'm going to make this a series. Without further adieu, enjoy.
It all started on a Saturday morning. It was early—really early. You hadn't really expected to have anyone walking around near the infirmary, but at half past 0300, you heard the sounds of heavy footfalls, with slurred speech and another low voice arguing.
 You get up to look out the window, and not a second goes by before the door swings open. You recognize the two men instantly: Major Gale "Buck" Cleven is half dragging Major John "Bucky" Egan into the infirmary. 
"Morning, ma'am." Major Cleven's blue eyes zero in on you immediately, and he offers you a kind (and apologetic) smile. "My buddy here had a bit too much to drink and got himself into a scuffle with some guys at the bar." 
Your gaze flickers to Major Egan, studying him with a calculating gaze. He's going to have a black eye, you notice, and he's holding onto the left side of his ribs. It's not the first time you've heard of the Major getting into a fight, but it's the first time it's happened on your shift. 
"Alright, Major." You're addressing Egan now, coming to his side to support his left side. "Let's get you settled in bed so I can take a look at those ribs." 
You are wholly unprepared for the absolute human hurricane that is Major John Egan.
"Tryin' to get me in bed already, doll?" His words are slurred from too much alcohol, but his voice is deep and husky, and you hate the way it makes you shiver. "I don't even know your name."
Major Cleven sucks in a breath and rolls his eyes. "John Clarence Egan." That accent drawls his friend's name, and his tone is very much annoyed. "You're in the presence of a lady—a nurse—for crying out loud. Behave."
"Oh, c'mon, she walked right into that one." He insists, "She thought it was funny. You thought it was funny, right, doll?"
Stormy blue eyes are suddenly fixed on your face. It's almost like time stops for you; of course you've seen him around before, but the moment you really look into his eyes, it's like you can see your whole life ahead of you. He's quiet now, just watching you, and he finds himself absolutely anamored with the delicate blush working its way onto your face.
"It was a little funny." You admit it, but you don't meet his eyes again. You're too afraid of what you'll see on his face, because while you're falling hard and fast at first sight, he's only flirting with a woman. That's all it is to him, you're sure of it.
His chest is warm when you open his jacket and roll up his shirt. You have to ignore how beautifully masculine he is on order to focus on your job. Your eyes flicker to his abdomen, and sure enough, there are wicked bruises starting to show on the skin that covers his ribs. You're pretty sure they're not broken, but you have to be sure.
"This may hurt." You warn him, your fingers prodding gently at his side, and he hisses quietly under his breath. You don't feel anything out of place, but he'll definitely need a few hours of rest and something to ease the pain.
"Your hands are freezing." He grumbles, and before you can say anything, he's got both of them in his much bigger, warmer hands. "There, that's better."
"You're unbelievable, John Egan." Major Cleven speaks up from behind you, his tone more exasperated than anything else.
You carefully extract your hands from Major Egan's, and you try to ignore the way he pouts when you're no longer touching him. "I'll keep him overnight for observation, Major Cleven. Make sure he rests and heals up a bit."
Major Cleven looks strangely relieved, but still, he frowns. "Are you sure? I can handle Bucky; I don't want him causing you any trouble."
His gentle demeanor makes you smile. "I appreciate that, Major, but I've dealt with far rowdier men than Major Egan here. You go on and get some rest; I'll handle this."
Major Egan looks irritated that you and his best friend were talking about him like he wasn't even there. "Just call me Bucky. Or I'll take John." He tells you, his tone demanding, his lips pulled into yet another pout.
"You behave yourself." Major Cleven points a finger at him, his face stern. When he turns back to you, he offers another warm smile. "You might as well call me Buck, too, since you're saving me from trying to sleep in the same room as that one while he's drunk."
You offer your name in return, and you offer a comforting smile as you shoo Buck off to bed.
It's quiet for a moment after the other Major takes his leave. You wonder if the alcohol has made Major Egan fall asleep. You're surprised to see his eyes open and staring directly at you when you turn around.
"Can't remember if I've ever seen you around before." He says, his words still slightly slurred as he speaks. You can't recall ever having heard a voice like his before. Gravely, warm and steady, even with alcohol in his system. "I'd remember that face; you're so pretty."
"And you're drunk." You answer, turning away before he can notice that you're blushing. You've dealt with flirty airmen before, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you. "Get some rest, Major."
He's quiet for a moment, and you're grateful for a reprieve from the flirting as you mark the log book with a pencil. The only noise for a few moments is the lead scratching against the paper as you write.
"I'm gonna call you Peach."
When you turn back, his lips tug into the most heart-stopping smirk you've ever seen. "You could just call me Nurse." You point out, and for some reason, that only seems to egg him on.
"Well, I like Peach. You're prettier than a peach. Sweet as one too; look at that blush." You're sure you've forgotten how to breathe.
"You're a menace." You answer after you've finally gotten a hold of your emotions. "And it's early; you need rest. Sleep."
"How about a goodnight kiss first?" You almost toss the log book at him. Almost. "Just one on the forehead, and then I'll sleep. Scout's honor, Peach."
You sigh, your eyes darting over his face for a moment. Sure, he's a flirt, but you've never heard of him ever harming a woman. So you walk over to his bedside and lean down.
His forehead is warm, an errant curl tickling your cheek as your lips press against his skin. You feel him shudder under the touch of your lips against him, but then his breathing evens back out as you lean away.
"Alright, Major, you got your kiss. Now sleep." He doesn't miss the way your eyes flicker to his lips and away again, but he does as he's told and rolls over onto his side.
After he falls asleep, the morning is quiet. Your shift at the infirmary ends at 0600 and the nurse who comes to relieve you doesn't seem surprised to see Bucky there. She rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh as you explain how he came to be in a bed in the infirmary.
He's shifting awake as you're leaving, and his blue eyes have just enough time to focus on your retreating form before you're gone. He was a little saddened; he'd been hoping for one more kiss.
Outside, the air is still cool, and the sun is just beginning to peek beyond the horizon. The inky blackness of the sky is lightening to a shade of blue that looks like Major Egan's eyes, and God, you have to stop thinking about him. You really didn't need to get attached.
You pass Buck on the way back to your quarters, and he waves at you with one of his dazzling smiles as he passes. He's wearing his uniform, and you know that means he'll be out in the sky soon enough. You return his smile and wave happily.
Exhaustion sweeps through you as you enter your quarters, and you make quick work of taking your hair pins out and wiping your makeup off. By the time your head hits the pillow, sleep pulls you under. The only things on your mind as you fall asleep are dark curls and blue eyes.
***
Hours later, you blink awake. There's still sunlight flittering in through the curtains over your window, and you sit up to stretch your arms and shoulders. It had to be close to dinnertime, and your stomach rumbles as you slip out of bed and dress in your uniform. Sometimes you missed your dresses back home, but you always felt a sense of pride in your olive drab skirt and jacket. You make sure to swipe on your Victory Red lipstick before you leave.
Placing your cover under your arm, you slip out of your barracks just to come face-to-face with a man. Not just any man, either.
"Peach!" He's still loud, his face wide and warm and friendly. His breath smells like the peppermint gum he's chewing, and his eyes are clear. "Don't think I didn't see you slip out of the room before I could ask for my morning kiss."
He's smiling so brightly that it's like looking at the sun. He's all white teeth and dark curls and blue eyes, his cover tucked under his arm. He's got a single flower in his free hand. You've never seen someone look so devastatingly beautiful.
"Major." You greet him, and it's a good thing you didn't put on blush when refreshing your makeup because your face is hot now. Just from looking at him. "What brings you to the women's barracks?"
"I told you, Peach. Call me Bucky. Or John." His grin never falters. You want to kiss the corner of his mouth, nip at the jawline. He's got so much energy and vitality, and your heart beats so loudly that it's a wonder he can't hear. "Well, I came to offer you this gorgeous flower I found on my way over here and ask if you'd like to dance with me tonight."
You'd forgotten all about the party tonight. A crew completing their 25th mission—you hadn't really planned on attending, but you find yourself very tempted to go. "I'm not really the party type." You admit that, and that dims the light in his eyes a little. You regret the words immediately.
"Just one dance." He steps in closer, taking up more space. He's so tall and broad-shouldered; the man takes up so much room that it makes you feel small in the best way. "For your favorite patient? After all, you did give me a good-night kiss. That's gotta count for something."
Your mind rewinds to that moment, when he was fever-warm and shivering under your lips, when you'd wanted so badly to let him kiss you all over. If you weren't blushing before, you sure are now. "Alright, Bucky," You have to ignore the way he lights up when you use his nickname. "One dance."
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cozage · 2 months
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Could you write a short fic for Zoros reaction to his s/o falling down some stairs (but she is ok just bruised) please. BTW love your writing
Characters: Zoro x female reader CW: none :) Total word count: 1k
Slip and Fall
One second you were upright, walking down the stairs.The next moment, you were staring up at the ceiling. 
The pain caught up with you quickly, and you groaned from the aches that riddled your body. Judging by the pain in your back, you must’ve slid down the stairs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but you were certain you’d have a few bruises to show for your misstep. 
You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to recenter yourself and minimize the pain.
“What the hell was-” Zoro’s irritated voice cut off abruptly, and you braced yourself for some kind of cheap joke at your expense. 
But nothing came. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he also made no move to get closer to you. Or do anything. 
“Y/N?” Zoro’s voice came out as a harsh whisper. 
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You breathed out a laugh. The pain seemed to be getting worse the more you lay there. “Help me up, will you?”
“No!” Zoro finally moved, rushing over to you to keep you still. “You shouldn’t move. It could-you could-I don’t want you to-”
“Zoro,” you groaned, finally opening your eyes and instantly meeting his. 
His eyes were so full of worry. They raked over your body, searching for any sign of injury. And you realized that Zoro was truly scared. 
Naturally, his fear made you panic. 
“What?” you tried to lift your head, but Zoro refused to let you move. 
“Chopper needs to check for a spinal injury. If you landed wrong…” He shook his head, as if he were shaking a thought from his head. 
“Zoro, I’m fine.” Though your back was probably blossoming with bruises, you were sure you’d survive.
“Let me go get Chopper. Just stay here for a minute. Please.” His last word was barely a whisper. It was that word, that small act of begging, that kept you anchored to where you laid. 
“Alright, alright.” You closed your eyes. “You fuss too much.”
“I do not-” You could hear him clench his jaw in frustration. “Just stay still for a minute!”
His hurried footsteps receded, and you could hear distant shouts from off in the distance, followed by footsteps coming back to you quickly. 
“She slipped and fell,” Zoro said softly, and you could hear Chopper set down his medical kit and open it. 
“Can you open your eyes for me?” Chopper asked. You opened them. 
“Do you know your name?”
You laughed. “Of course I do!” 
Chopper and Zoro didn’t join your laughter, so you gave your full name to the doctor. 
The reindeer nodded. “And do you know where you are?”
You sighed. “The Sunny. The Grand Line. Don’t ask me where on the Grand Line, because I wouldn’t even know that on my best day.”
Chopper gave a slight smile at that answer, but Zoro was still watching you from a few feet away. He was tucked back in a corner, almost as if he was scared of you. 
“Did you hear me?” Chopper asked, waving a hand in front of your face. 
You blinked. You hadn’t heard his question. You hadn’t even realized he was speaking. 
“What is five plus five?” Chopper asked again. 
“Oh. Ten,” you answered quickly, taking your eyes off of Zoro for only a moment before finding him again. He looked so pale, and his mouth was pressed in such a tight line as he watched Chopper. You opened your mouth to speak, but Chopper spoke first. 
“Zoro, can you come help her sit up? I’d like to check her back for any signs of injury.”
“Chopper, I told you already! I’m fine!” Your words were accompanied with a groan as you tried to sit up on your own. 
Zoro was suddenly there, gently guiding you into a sitting position. You rolled back your shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness of your muscles. Zoro only watched you, his face still hard as stone. 
“Zoro.” Your fingers cupped his face, forcing his eyes to lock onto yours. “I’m here. I’m okay, really.”
“She’s right,” Chopper agreed, looking at you. “Some icky bruises for a few days, and you probably have a minor concussion, but you’re okay.”
“See?” You smiled. “I’m okay.”
Zoro nodded and pulled his face away from your grip. The panic in his eyes has subsided, but only slightly. 
“I probably need a lot of bedrest though, right Chopper?” You gave a slight nudge to the reindeer. 
“Huh? You don’t-” Chopper caught your wink and worried glance at Zoro. “Oh! Yes! She needs lots of rest. And she shouldn’t be alone…because of the concussion! Zoro, can you look after her?”
Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly, and you gave him a sheepish grin and you held out your hands. “Help me up?” you asked. 
He did you one better, gently picking you up off the ground. He was careful to avoid the sensitive spots on your back. How he knew exactly where they were, you weren’t sure, but you were thankful he was considerate. 
You were quick to pull him into bed and snuggle into his chest. Even if it wasn’t the most comfortable for your sore body, you were happy to be close to him. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” 
“No.” His response was short, clipped. 
“Okay,” you hummed, curling in closer to him. 
A few minutes passed in comforting silence, and you were almost asleep when he kissed the top of your head. 
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought I lost you and I just…I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t. I’m right here,” you murmured softly into his chest, letting his warmth lull you into a deep sleep.
938 notes · View notes
rollingsins · 10 months
Text
In the name of Taylor Swift
summary: You have to break up with Vada. In the name of Taylor Swift.
pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader
warnings: pure fluff.
word count: 900 words.
a/n: maybe one of the dumber things I've written, but I was in a fluffy mood for bbg Vada. Inspired by tiktok.
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“Baby,” You huff dramatically as Vada walks through the door to your bedroom, “I’m glad you’re here. We have to break up.” 
Vada halts. She blinks, her brown eyes widening as her entire face falls. Her hands fall limp by her sides. She’d arrived, not two minutes ago, while you were toiling in bed, thinking seriously. Clutching a twelve inch record in your hands and deciding some things just had to be done. 
“What?” She asks, sounding crestfallen, “But I got you flowers.”
She gestures to the stack of lilies she has in hand. She looks wounded, confused, hurt. Like a little puppy you’ve just kicked in the face. 
Immediately, you sit up, heart falling. 
“No, babe,” You retract, reaching out to her. She blinks back at you, eyes as wide as chocolate buttons, “I wasn’t being serious.  Not a real breakup. A fake breakup. A fake-up.” 
Now, she’s confused. Her eyebrows knit together as you watch as she tries to work it out. 
“A fakeup?” She repeats, blinking slowly, “Why?” 
You tilt your head back to reveal your latest purchase. A shiny, purple vinyl of Taylor Swift’s latest record. 
“Taylor Swift just released an album and I need to experience it in full.” You say, quite seriously. You are serious when it comes to Taylor Swift. You’d thought Vada would know this by now. 
Vada stares. 
Your lips purse into a coo as you pry the lilies from her hand. 
“You got me flowers?” You say, rubbing your hand over her cheek, “That’s so sweet.” 
She smiles, a little shy. 
“Yeah. The lilies you like.” She says, and then she frowns again, “But I’m confused. Why does Taylor Swift mean we have to fake break up?”
“Because I need to be sad, babe,” You explain as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I need to feel pain the way she felt pain when she wrote these songs.”
“Doesn’t she have a nice song?” Vada asks, a little dubious. 
“No,” You say immediately, “I mean, yes, but I’m saving those ones for when we get back together.” 
“But we’re not apart.” Says Vada, still confused. 
You can’t resist. You lean down and press a kiss to the pout on her lips. 
“We are as of now.” You tell her. You exhale, close your eyes and try to think of Vada breaking up with you. A sharp pain flashes through your chest. You imagine her looking mournful as she does it. Stuttering over her words. Looking almost embarrassed as she tells you she never wants to see you again. 
It works, for a split second.
And then you open your eyes. 
She’s staring back at you, looking sweet as ever. Tilts her head like a confused puppy. 
“Say something mean,” You prompt.
She frowns. 
“No,” She says, “I don’t want to.”
“Babe,” You groan, “I need you to make me sad.” 
“I don’t want to make you sad,” She says. She leans into you and wraps her arms around your waist, snuggling into your chest, “I want you to be happy all the time.” 
You groan. In all your grand-scheming plans, you’d forgotten you were dating a literal ray of sunshine. A golden retriever of a girlfriend who’d never gotten mad at you, or said nasty things about you, or even had a bad thought about you in her life. 
But you need this. 
“Please?” You ask, smoothing down her dark hair to look into her eyes, “For me?” 
Vada frowns. She’d do anything you ask, this you know. And it's hardly a big ask. All she’d have to do is tell you she never wants to see you again and you’d cry and listen to ‘Last Kiss’ and pretend as if your entire world is crumbling. 
And then have vigorous make-up sex to ‘Sparks Fly’. A win-win, truly. A rollercoaster of emotions.  
You squeeze her shoulders in encouragement. 
“Okay,” Vada says, sounding resigned. Her eyebrows knit like she’s thinking hard, “I… don’t like your shoes.” 
At this, you snort. 
“You don’t like my shoes?” You ask, “That’s the meanest thing you could think of?” 
She looks up at you, pout still on her lips. 
“Yeah,” She says. She curls back into your chest, “Because you’re perfect and there’s nothing mean to say about you.”
She pauses. 
“And I actually do like your shoes,” She mumbles into your chest, “I’d steal them if we were the same size.” 
You sigh, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and lean down to kiss her head. 
“How am I supposed to listen to the album when you’re being so sweet?” You grumble. 
“We could listen to the nice songs together?” Vada pitches with a happy smile. And then her lips curl into a coy smile, “And then we could listen to the naughty songs and make out.” 
“There’s no naughty songs, babe, it’s Taylor Swift.” You say with a laugh. 
“Oh,” She looks a little disappointed, “Well, maybe we could make out to the sad songs and pretend like we just got back together?” 
You hum. 
Making out with Vada does sound a lot better than fake breaking up with her. She emphasizes her point with a kiss to your chest. 
“Fine.” You relent, leaning down to press your lips to hers. 
She sighs, happily, curling her hand against the back of your neck to pull you closer. 
“I hope you can rest easy knowing I’ll never experience the blood-curling pain Taylor Swift felt writing ‘Dear John’.” You grumble against her lips. 
She pulls back, a smile on her lips, “Good,” She says, “And you never will. I promise.”
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politemenacephd · 3 months
Text
Lost at Sea (+18)
💙 Merman!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader 💙
After your neglectful partner lets you nearly drown in a storm, you are rescued by an unexpected party: a merman named Miguel, who offers to help heal you. TW: Near drowning, possible thalassophobia, mentions of past emotionally abusive partner.
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💙 Contents: Monster/human relationship, Forbidden romance, Mutual pining, Size difference, Kissing and heavy petting, Cock warming, PinV sex, Underwater sex, Double penetration, Autoerotic asphyxiation, Creampie.
💙 Notes: Holy shit I got way too invested in this one lmao, enjoy
💙 Word count: 7,400
‘God… damn it! CAN YOU GET UP HERE AND HELP—’
Your words were torn from your mouth by the relentless wind as it buffered your skin. The harsh sea salt had cracked your lips and dulled your skin, leaving your cheeks raw and red, and your hands were growing tired from hauling rope.
You were alone on the deck of a tiny ship sailing right into an inferno, and you had no idea what to do.
Your asshole partner had insisted that you go out on their new boat. It’d clearly been an attempt to just show off. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise as they blabbered about their new toy, and eventually you’d just been worn down into going.
You’d tried to warn them about the weather. You’d tried to show them your phone, which clearly indicated that a storm was rolling in midafternoon, but they were too pompous to listen. As always.
You’d agreed to just go a little way out into the cove to see how it ran. They’d made you sit with your hands in your lap while they steered, because clearly you were too clumsy and naïve to touch anything on their precious vessel. You bit down your complaints and tried to enjoy it while you could.
And then, of course, they’d pushed it too far. They’d gone too far from the coast in an attempt to show off.
You’d watched the sky turning from pale blue to a foreboding grey, the clouds growing dark like a bruise on the horizon. Over and over you’d said to turn back, and over and over you’d been told the same thing: You were overreacting, you were petty, you were just trying to ruin this for them.
It was only when the first spatters of rain began to hit the deck that they’d finally decided to turn around, and their stubbornness had cost you dearly. The storm had rolled in faster than you could turn the vessel around. The beach was still just a blurry line in the distance, and the storm was threatening to throw you to the sea’s mercy.
Despite their previous snide comments about you not touching anything, they were currently below deck somewhere while you were struggling to hunker down the sails so you didn’t overturn.
‘Where—are they, fuck—Would you PLEASE help!’
Your desperate cry echoed against the thundering of rain overhead, but there was no reply. You could see the light was on downstairs. You knew they were there, could they really care about you so little?
‘I’m trying to batten everything down! Just hold on!’ Their voice floated out from behind the closed door. It only served to distract you from your job, as you still could barely hear what they were saying.
‘WHAT?’ you cried.
‘I’m battening down!’
‘BATTENING WHAT DOWN?!’
‘Just—’
A fresh gust of wind unsteadied your feet, and the rope slipped from your hands. The sail above was caught by the storm and began to turn the ship faster than you could keep up with.
‘S-Shit, no, no come on—’
You felt your feet slipping on the cold wood. The spray was blinding your sight.
‘Shit… shit—’
You clung to the rope as hard as you could, but when the next wave came in it slipped. Your knot hadn’t been tight enough. To your horror your feet were entirely swept out from underneath you.
‘HELP! HELP!’
You hit the deck and felt the wind knocked from your lungs. You tried to stand but the storm was faster than you, and as you squirmed on the wet deck your body began to slide. You rolled across the slippery wood right towards the edge.
‘No, NO—HEY! HEY! HEL—’
You didn’t even get a second chance to call for help.
You were flung down into the ocean with your stabilizing rope snaking after you into the blackened abyss, and the last thing you saw was your partners silhouette in the single lit window.
The water was freezing as it hit you. You sank down easy into the dark and the chaos.
You thrashed. You clawed. You squirmed and exploded bubbles from your maw, but your clothes were weighing you down, and the storm kept whipping waves over your head every time you even vaguely breached the surface. You got three or four good breathes in before you were swallowing sea water, and your arms were too tired to keep you afloat.
You kept thinking they’d save you. You kept thinking they’d come. But you just, kept, sinking.
Down, down, where the storm sounds were dulled to nothing. Where the world was a weightless, crushing void of indigo. Down to the unknown.
You couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. Your body drifted into the darkness.
But you could have sworn, right before you lost consciousness, that you felt someone grab you.
You woke slowly to the sound of sea birds.
One thought immediately filled your fuzzy mind. You were alive?
You blinked your eyes only to find them slightly crusty with salt. You had to wipe them clean with your wrist, and as you moved that you realized how sore you were. You were cold and stiff, your ankle swollen, but you were alive. How on earth were you alive?
You blinked your eyes a few more times until the crust broke, and with a low moan you began to take in your surroundings.
You were inside a gaping cave, a huge, jagged opening in the side of the bay. You assumed it must be the same bay you’d initially left from and not another since the rock was the exact same colour. There was water gently lapping at your side, water shallow enough to give you a view of the rock beneath. It was faintly pink, covered in barnacles and filled with seaweed and rocks.
A rockpool. You were in a rockpool cave.
You could feel something soft beneath you, which felt strange considering where you were. When you shifted your fingers, you realized that you were laying in a bed of wet kelp and moss atop a rock. Was this, natural?
You winced as you tried to move. The odds of you surviving like this were just non-existent, right? To have been swept into a safe cave, without hitting any rocks on the way, and all in enough time that you hadn’t drowned? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. This was unfathomable. There had to be another explanation.
‘Are you awake?’
You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice echoing through the cave. It was deep, husky, cold. It wasn’t like any voice you’d ever heard before. You winced for a second time as you tried to roll, and the stranger spoke again.
‘Careful—careful, you’re hurt.’
‘Who—’
You shuffled onto your elbow and peered out towards the caves opening, trying desperately to see who was here. Was it some passerby who stumbled in, or perhaps a coastguard who’d tracked you? Perhaps your luck was turning after all.
But, there was no one at the cave mouth. You frowned, at first, until you felt the breath. Hot, warm breath, stirring your neck. You turned around and yelped.
Beside you was a man. Or at least, part of a man.
Deep red eyes peered at you from beneath a mop of long, thick, dark brown hair, hair that lay is braided strands around his neck and shoulders. He was muscled and broad, his skin brown and calloused by old scars. You could see salt crystals hanging from those thick locks about his shoulders, and it appeared that his skin had been painted or tattooed with smooth neon red lines.
He was a pretty man, a rugged creature of the sea, but he had strangely kind eyes. You could see his unkempt brows were raised in an attempt to seem unthreatening. By all means, if you’d met him in any other scenario, you would have simply been too shy to say a word. You would have been smitten, not frightened.
It was what lay beneath his muscled waist that scared you.
His pelvis gave way to a gargantuan torso, one that resembled the body of a large fish. His tail was long, its skin glimmering a deep and jewel-like navy blue, ending a taper that was decorating with a huge, fluttery, blood red tail, one that crinkled and rippled like fabric. You saw his little fleshy fins, his smooth spines, all glittering with little beads of water.
His fish half was floating idly in the deeper pool while his human torso clung to the rock you were perched on. His eyes were fixed on you, and he had you surrounded.
‘Ah… Y-you—’
‘How do you feel?’
The man’s voice came out gruff as he interrupted your stuttering.
‘I… I’m—’ You tried to speak but struggled to get a single word out. You were paralyzed by a mixture of fear and confusion.
‘You’re… scared, yes?’ the man said in a lower tone. He was trying to sound soft, to sound confident, but it was hard to underplay the powerful image of this otherworldly monster lying across your only way of escape.
‘Y…. y—’
‘I won’t hurt you’ he said slowly. He was clearly a little impatient, a little stiff, but he was trying. ‘I won’t.’
‘You, wont?’ you stammered. The man nodded.
‘I could have hurt you many times before now. I haven’t.’
When your eyes widened in horror the man suddenly sighed, realizing a little too late how that his example was less than comforting. ‘What I mean is, just- I won’t hurt you. I do not plan to hurt you, which is why, I haven’t. Okay? I swear’ he elaborated.
‘What- What are you?’ you said, your voice quivering. He shifted his enormous tail.
‘I’m- me’ he grunted.
‘Yo… what- what does that mean? What are you?!’ You repeated again.
The man tilted his head. ‘Is this, the shock, talking?’ he asked. It was hard to tell if he was being deliberately sarcastic or just struggling to give off a genuinely concerned tone, which certainly threw you off. ‘I, truly can’t tell. Do you want me to answer that genuinely?’
‘Y… You’re, um- you’re, real?’ you said, both a statement and a question. At that he unexpectedly broke into a dumbfounded smile, one that looked comforting on his weather-worn face.
‘Ah. It is the shock, then. I am real, yes. I am—’
‘You’re ah, uh—you’re a, merman’ you stammered. His smile softened as his eyes darted about your face.
‘Yes’ he said softly. ‘Yes, there you go.’
You began to murmur to yourself as you drew up your knees. ‘I’m…. I-I’m sorry, I—’
‘No need to apologize. I’m automatically wary around humans, but, you are… Not exactly a threat.’
‘I… No. I’m, not a threat’ you dumbly replied. You noticed the smile lines by his eyes grow deeper before he coughed to cover them up.
‘Hm. My name is, Miguel, if that helps’ he grunted. He seemed a little uncomfortable being so personable, but he was trying his best to ease your fear. It worked. Slowly you began to relax.
‘Hi’ you mumbled back, ‘I uh… My name is, Y/N.’
You noticed his tail flicking slightly in the deeper pool, causing ripples to dance across its surface towards you. ‘A pleasure to meet you’ Miguel replied in that cold but gentle voice, ‘if only it was under better circumstances.’
‘W- Where, um- can I ask, where am I?’ you panted.
‘You certainly can, you just did. You’re close to shore. You’re by the beach which extends towards the docks from which I assume you left. It’s low tide right now so, if you follow to the right you’ll get back to the beach. I’m, unsure if you can walk though, due to your ankle, and… unfortunately I cannot swim you out yet with the low water. Later, though, I will, when the tide comes back. That was my plan.’
As Miguel gave his monotone recital of your situation, your mind drifted elsewhere. One niggling thought kept bothering you.
‘You… did, you—did you rescue me?’ you asked. It felt a dumb question, but you were truly dumbfounded by this whole situation.
To your surprise, Miguel immediately nodded. ‘Yes. I did. I sensed the ship in the storm and went to check it, and I found you struggling beneath the waves. I hoisted you above the water and… well, I feel I must apologize to you.’
Miguel paused and rubbed his thickset jaw. It was hard to see his face in the dark, but, did he look ashamed?
‘I tried to take you directly to the docks but… With the storm, it was extremely busy. There were sailors trying to cover their vessels all over the board, and—well. I could not risk myself being seen. I brought you here so that I could shield you from the waves without being seen.’
‘No that… that’s, fine’ you mumbled. ‘I mean, I’m grateful you saved me at all. I really… really, thought I was going to die there.’
‘It’s nothing. You’re safe now. Though, I have to ask, why did you go out alone in the first place?’ he asked.
You blinked. ‘Why—what do you mean?’
‘Why did you go out into the storm, on the ship, alone? You’re in shock right now but… You don’t, seem like the kind to be that, risky, to put it nicely’ he repeated.
Immediately your brows furrowed. You remembered it all then; your asshole partner taking you out, forcing you to deal with the ship from the outside as the storm you had predicted would roll in did inevitably roll in. Had they even done anything to save you? Had they even noticed?
Miguel tilted his head at your expression. ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Uh—no, it’s not your fault. Sorry. I wasn’t on the ship alone, and it wasn’t my choice. My, partner, I guess, wanted to go out and I didn’t want to start a fight by refusing. I knew there was a storm but they… didn’t- Ah, fuck- they didn’t listen to me.’
It felt strange saying partner at this point. In your head you certainly weren’t thinking of them the same way you used to. Really, you hadn’t thought of them like that for a while.
You slumped a little on the moss. ‘Ah… fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna have to deal with that when I go back.’
Miguel didn’t say a thing at first. He just lay back and watched you writhe with patient eyes, until he noticed your foot impatiently tapping.
‘You seem… tense’ he murmured.
You tried desperately to look away.
‘Is it the pain?’ he asked. You shook your head.
‘No, I don’t—’ You tried to draw up your knees to your chest but you winced the second your ankle moved. You got too embarrassed and let it slide back down. ‘I don’t… want to go back.’
Miguel blinked again. ‘Why not?’
‘What do I have to go back to?’ you said with a slightly sad laugh. ‘That—asshole? Who left me on the ship, who let me fall overboard? I’m sure I’ll go back and, I’ll either get chewed out like this was my fault or I’ll get smothered with worry and guilt tripping until I internalize that it WAS my fault, and either I stay with them in that shitty cycle or- or I leave, and, I try to figure shit out.’
You tapped your foot violently at the thought. ‘No. I’m not going back to them. Not again. I- I can’t. I WON’T. And, in that case… I got, nothing. No home, no- friends out here, no real assets just… ah. Fucckk.’
You hiccupped into an awkward finish, and after that you were too ashamed to continue talking.
Miguel sat with you in silence. In the silence you could hear the slippery smooth sound of his skin as his tail coiled and shifted beneath the water, mixed with the dripping of water from above. It was terribly tense.
‘Okay. We’ll, wait.’
You were surprised by his blunt dismissal. You were sure that this creature would want to be rid of you, or would complain about your attitude, but, he seemed unphased. At least, he seemed unphased. His face was so hard to read.
‘Would you like me to check your ankle, then?’ he asked, gesturing to the swollen inflamed pound above your foot. You blinked. Wait, he was worried about you?’
‘Y- uh, sure. I’m not sure what you can do for it though.’
Miguel carefully angled his tail and slid forward until his torso was right next to your own, allowing his hands to find your ankle.
‘Mm… I’ll, try not to hurt you’ he murmured. You nodded, and slowly he began to feel over the swelling. You shuddered the moment you felt his hand. God, his hands felt good. Strong, calloused, worn, warm. It was a new feeling to be gripped by something like that.
You realized, then, that the clothes you’d been wearing were gone. They must have been stripped off in the storm? Either way, you were wearing nothing but the one-piece bathing suit you’d been wearing beneath them.
If Miguel had noticed he didn’t say anything. He continued stroking over the soft bump in your ankle with diligent eyes. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s broken’ he muttered to himself. ‘Which is… good.’
To your internal horror, you felt your cheeks growing warm. He was ever, ever so pretty, and so gentle. He didn’t look like he should be this gentle.
His breath hit your shoulder as he worked, and against your better judgement you leaned into it. It felt… nice. For something so cold, so wet, he was so human too. Your body continued to lean in until you realized that you were practically nestled into the crook of his neck.
You looked up, and your eyes met. He glanced down at your face with slightly raised brows.
‘Mm?’
‘Ah—sorry, I’m- I’m tired’ you stammered, forcing yourself up. He didn’t approach you nor rebuff you; he simple chuckled, his lips turned into an adorable half smile. He looked old beyond his years, you thought. 
‘It’s fine. You can rest if you must.’
You felt the heat growing deeper. You coughed with pursed lips and turned to stare at the wall. ‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.’
You hadn’t realized how touch starved you were. You hadn’t been treated kindly in far too long, and this one basic gesture was causing you to overflow. He was very, very pretty. Really pretty. It really didn’t help the situation, just how pretty he was. God, it was all you could think about. You just kept letting it go around and around in your mind.
Pretty, pretty, rugged sea beast.
‘Your partner.’
You jumped back into the moment at the sound of his voice. ‘Ah- yeah? What- what about them?’
‘Mm. That’s a very telling response’ he noted. You shuddered as he continued to massage your ankle.
‘I—Sorry, I didn’t mean to be snippy.’
‘That’s not what I meant’ he grunted.
‘Well… Then- can you just, say what you meant then?’ you said. He glanced at you again.
‘I wanted to ask you about it. You sounded distressed.’
‘I… I mean, yeah, I am. You don’t have to worry about that though.’
‘I know I don’t. I just am. They sounded… Cruel, the way you described them’ Miguel noted as he rubbed at your ankle. You gave a sad grunt of a laugh.
‘Mm. Cruel, I guess it- I used to hate when people said that, because it made me… It made me feel stupid, I guess, for downplaying things that they apparently so easily spotted as unfair or bad or toxic.’
‘If they were- controlling you, I fail to see how it was your fault’ he noted. ‘You clearly didn’t like it, but, it sounds like you had no other choice.’
‘Mm. You’re very astute for a fish.’
He snorted a laugh, his lip tilting at the corner. ‘Mm. I’m human too, you know. I understand loneliness. I understand it well.’
‘Are there not many others like you?’ you asked curiously.
His hand squeezed the upper part of your leg to test for tenderness and you shivered. He took note. ‘Not really. The ocean is big, there’s a lot of- empty space. Sometimes we travel in packs but… that is, unusual. We only really gather to mate. I usually drift by myself.’
‘Huh, so uh- I guess you do have, what I assume is quite a bit of experience with love then’ you gently teased.
His tilted smile turned sad. ‘Oh, no. I have been… unsuccessful in love. It’s been a long time since I managed to find a mate. A long, long time. I, more or less stopped bothering.’
‘Y—wait, really? You? How?’
He glanced up and you immediately baulked at how overt you’d been. ‘I mean—I—’
‘Are you, implying I’m attractive?’ he asked. You tried to look away but it was so hard, with those big red eyes and those full, rough lips. You swallowed hard.
‘Ah… I mean, objectively, yes. You’re, a very attractive man’ you said, placing desperate emphasis on the word ‘objective’.
His smile had vanished, seemingly out of shock, but it came back as he observed your awkwardness. He didn’t seem used to smiling. ‘Huh. Well, mil gracias. That’s kind of you to say.’
You smiled and turned to silently sitting, and as he continued his work, he intentionally began to get closer.
Behind his calm expression, Miguel was sweating. He was petrified you’d realize that his brushing of your ankle was just a ploy, an excuse, to remain close to your soft little body.
He couldn’t let you see how his eyes lit up when he saw your face. He couldn’t let you see how warm his cold, scaley body felt in your presence.
He’d seen so many humans in his life, and none sparked such excitement in him. You’d fallen down into his world like an angel from heaven, a gift from Poseidon right into his arms, and even though you’d been barely lucid when he held you above the stormy waves he could have sworn you’d seen him.
Your exhausted body had clung to him as he kept you safe. You’d nestled into his chest, your arms around his neck, and you’d whispered. You’d whispered, ‘thank you’. You’d whispered, ‘beautiful’.
He didn’t know if you remembered that. It seemed that you didn’t. Still, part of him was praying you’d remember.
His eyes drifted from your ankle to the cut of your swimsuit where it clung to your skin. He watched your hips shift, your chest heave as you breathed. He felt that soft, primal thud of his heart, and looked away.
‘When you eventually return to the land, what do you think you’ll do?’ Miguel asked, trying to bury his interest in small talk. His torso was now pressed in at your side with your faces turned in opposite directions.
You sighed. ‘I got no idea. No idea. I guess I’ll have to just… figure it out, right? I’ll have to find a new place, try to- get my stuff back I guess. It’s gonna be exhausting but, what else can I do, yanno? It’s just… Whatever. It’s a part of life. Man, I’m not looking forward to tryna figure out dating again.’
‘Do you think, you’ll begin looking for a new mate quickly?’ Miguel asked. His eye turned a little to try and catch your eye.
‘Mate. Huh. As weird as it sounds… I kind of, want to move on’ you mused. ‘I want the, confirmation that it’s over, that I can move on and proof that there’s better out there.’
You didn’t notice the way Miguel’s tail began to whip in the water. His hands drifted up your leg.
‘That’s understandable. Well, don’t worry about that right now. You may stay with me as long as you wish’ he said.
You chuckled. ‘What, are you suggestin—’
You turned, again, and this time you found yourself nose to nose with Miguel.
That single, simple moment hit you like a wave breaking on shore. It was the sudden realization that you felt something. Something tangible. Something, real.
Yearning. A deep, basal yearning in your loins that were pulsing with your blood, one that seemed to palpitate outside your body. It was as if it was physically coiling around you both, like your joint curiosity was manifesting.
You blinked. Miguel’s eyes darted over your face, almost like he was looking for something. You tried to breathe but it caught in your throat, and immediately his eyes widened. He’d found what he was hoping for, praying for.
‘Are you okay?’ he murmured. You dumbly nodded.
‘A-Ahuh…’
‘You, seem… a little, breathless’ he noted. You couldn’t even respond. For a tense minute you were both silent, nose to nose with your lips barely an inch apart. Neither of you would move.
‘Most… people, wouldn’t let me get this close’ he said after a while. He was testing the waters. ‘Even after saving them.’
‘T… They wouldn’t?’
‘No.’
Your chest heaved and brushed his own giant pecs, briefly giving a taste of skin on skin. The way your eyelids fluttered drew him closer. That throbbing in your loins get harder, stronger. His breathing got faster.
‘I can… move back, if you want’ he asked. That simple question was dripping with a million layers of nuance.
‘N… No, it’s fine’ you replied. He swallowed, and you watched his adams apple jolt. When he spoke again you felt it hit your face.
‘Is it, just, fine?’ he asked. His deep voice had dipped.
Your whole body shuddered.
‘You will have heard rumours, I’m sure’ he said softly. ‘About, dangerous fish men. Otherworldly merpeople, come to the shore to grab innocent people who they drag away for- unsavoury purposes.’
As he spoke you peered around his shoulder, watching the way his tail flicked. It hit you how huge he was in that moment. With his tail he was nearly twice the size of your body. Your eyes rolled back with a soft pant, and the first thing you saw was the fangs glinting behind his parted lips.
‘Those poor people. What they always fail to mention, is that they all come willingly.’ His voice had dipped to a whisper, and it was making you tremble. He could almost smell the need in you.
‘These poor, unwanted people, whose shoulders grow heavy from the weight of the world, they yearn for the sea. It is, weightless. It is, free. Erotic.’
As he spoke your body slid down the slimy rocks into the warm pool, and just as he’d described, you began to float. Your body lost all tension as he helped hold you up beneath the gently lapping water.
‘But it is…. Lonely. The ocean is vast, and it is empty, and it is cold. And some of us… Can’t help but yearn for the warmth of your people. Your, hot blood, your little bodies. The warmth of your, lost, and weary, who would maybe understand us.’
His breath hit your ear, and you felt it in him too. That same loneliness. That same yearning.
‘I have not touched another soul in a long time’ he whispered. ‘I would be… grateful, to relieve myself, with you. I will happily set you free too.’
‘Please.’
You blurted the word without thinking, and despite the desperation in your voice he seemed to sense that. He didn’t move any closer. He held himself about an inch away, with his lips by your ear and his long, slippery body gently wrapped around your own.
‘Do you wish to taste something different?’ he whispered.
‘Yes’ you panted. The tension inside you was growing painful. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Do you long for the sea?’ he purred.
‘Yes—’
‘Do you long for me?’
His pelvis sank down and began to rub between your legs. You let out an audible moan, one that echoed in the confines of the cave.
‘Y-Yes, please—please, please’ you repeated. The moment you moaned he gave in.
Miguel leaned in and kissed you hard, smothering your lips with his own. You could taste the salt on his rough, warm skin, and when his tongue slipped out you tasted it there too. He was rough but slow, occasionally opening his eyes a crack to see your response.
Your eager little mewls, your touch starved whines, they fed him. He pushed you up against the rocks with a rough growl.
‘Mm—’
His tongue was warm in your mouth as it explored. As you shyly broached his lips with your own tongue, you felt his fangs, sharp and thick and smooth. You whimpered as he moved in deeper with a second groan.
‘Mmm…. Mm, mm—’
His claws began to roam your body. You felt him start at your hips, his fingers squeezing the unfamiliar flesh, before moving up to your waist and then your chest. His thumb hit your nipple and you squeaked, drawing out another groan from him.
You were breathing on each other, hot and heavy, huffing through the nose as you whined and moaned. Never had you been so sought after, never had anything pet you with such ravenous hands.
You melted in his firm grip, giving in to his strength and his power, until something unexpected jolted you back into the moment. Something slippery, long and hard was probing between your legs and up your belly.
Your eyes shot open mid kiss. Sensing your hesitation Miguel pulled back, allowing you to glance down and see what you’d felt.
Two joint phalli, one on top of the other, both the same pale red as his tail decoration, emerging from the same slit in his pelvis. They were smooth, clean, slightly curved with a rounded tip.
You stared at his offering with curious eyes.
‘Ah… o-oh, I—’
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t- keep them down’ he murmured. He sounded a little embarrassed, a sight so cute on such a gruff man.
‘No. No, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ You darted your eyes from his face to his shafts as you reassured him. He gave a soft nod as he sensed your interest, and slowly you reached out to touch them.
Your first thought was how wet they were. They were slippery, already dripping with something thick and viscose, almost like Vaseline.
It was oily in your hand as you tried to fist it back and forth. It twitched as you stroked, which you noted with a soft throb of your own, and you caught his eyes rolling. You squeaked when he abrupted bucked into your hand, forcing that thick, slippery cock to slide through your fingers and back again.
‘Ah… sorry, it- I haven’t been stimulated in so long’ he groaned.
‘I-It’s okay, you’re all good’ you said. You gingerly gave him a few more strokes, using both hands to rub both shafts. You watched his tail thrash in response, his back arching and rolling to rock them deeper. His gruff little moans were so sweet.
‘Ah- please, m—mm- may I have you?’ he pleaded.
You faltered only for a moment. It wasn't usually like you to be this impulsive, but you wanted this. You wanted him. You wanted freedom.
You nodded and slowly slipped down, presenting your body to him to guide. He took it.
You lay back and let him strip your swimsuit aside. You felt his fingers as they slipped beneath the wet fabric, as they brushed your skin for the first time. You felt them ghosting over your inner thigh, just barely stroking your pussy lips as he pushed the suit to the side.
You tensed and gasped; it was enough to give you goosebumps. He spread you wide without shame.
You watched Miguel’s eyes roaming. He notes the hairs on your arms standing up, the feel of raised skin as he stroked them, the sight of your chest heaving as your breath came a little faster. He could see your nipples harden beneath the suit.
Most of all, though, he stared at your perfectly framed cunt beneath the shifting water. He used his thumb to curiously spread you, noting the folds beading with slick.
Beneath the water his joint phalli twitched in unison. You hadn’t noticed, but his eyes had begun to glow a bright neon red. He wanted to plunder whatever sweet pearl was inside.
‘You will… need to be, careful’ he panted. You stayed still as he grabbed your ankles, tenderly pushing them in until your knees folded and your back bent, creating a perfect mating press. You shuddered as his smooth body settled in on top of you. You felt his cock poking at your naked pussy for the first time.
‘I will have to… manoeuvre them, a little, so I don’t try to penetrate you with both. That would be- painful. I will use one to stimulate you instead, is that… okay?’
‘Yeah. Y-Yeah, that’s okay.’
‘Good. Okay… Just hold onto me’ he purred. His hand tenderly slid down and around to cup your lower back while the other gripped the rock by your head for support. You felt his thumb stroking your spine. So soft, yet so rough.
You dug your nails into his back, and you let him slip in.
His cock went in smoothly, with little to no resistance, but that didn’t change how much space it took up. They were both huge.
It slid up like a snake, guided by that strange, slippery lubricant coating the silky skin, until it could go no further. You were now fully penetrated, your belly bulging and your clit smeared by his second little twitching shaft. You squirmed a little to adjust.
Fuck, it ached. It felt good, but it was really splitting you in half. You’d never been stretched like this, ever, not even close.
‘F-Fuck- ah, that’s, big—’ you winced.
‘That- that’s it… I’ve got you… You're mine now’ Miguel groaned. 
Fuck, you here his, and you were tight. Your skin felt good on his scales. Soft, malleable flesh, a cute squeezable body, perfectly impaled. He flexed and twitched his cock to feel it nuzzle your insides, imprinting it with little smears of precum. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to stamp the feeling of your cunt muscles clenching and quivering around him on the inside of his brain.
Bit by bit, he began to move.
‘A-Ah—’
In the water you could feel his skin as it slid across you, moist and slick like wet silk, moving with a dexterity and flexibility that no human could have. It made you shudder. Your brain knew that it felt wrong, but the pleasurable tightness in your gut told you that you didn’t care.
You dug your nails into his back and relied on his own huge hands to keep you steady.
‘Uhn—uhn— uhn—’
His soft grunts echoed above you as he nestled into your neck.
‘That’s it… That’s it. Ah- you are, so, soft…’
Your legs shook a little as he drew back and forth, his two long shafts shifting in tandem. You felt the longer rod easily filling you before slipping out.
Bit by bit the initial ache in your core started to subside. You began to relax. The pain numbed into a soft, smooth, pleasurable motion, and you began to moan.
You lost track of time in that private space, as you indulged your most perverse needs. You were lulled by pleasure. The slow rhythm of his pulsing, the gentle stimulating rubbing on your clit, the wetness and the warmth, it was like a dream.
You wanted this. You wanted to be wanted. In that moment, as he nestled your cheek and whined for more, whispering how good you felt in your ear, you forgot your asshole ex. You forgot everyone.
Part of you would have liked to be caught. You quivered at the thought. To be found like this, utterly impaled by this beautiful ethereal creature. It excited you.
You only noticed that any time had even passed when a salty wave hit your cheek. Wait, was the water, rising?
You didn’t get a chance to think about it. You were lost in the moment, your head dizzy from the sensations overstimulating every single one of your senses. The cave echoed with the slapping of water, the rhythmic pounding of flesh as he fucked you. His grunts were rough, tinged with some deep inhuman clicking sound that was almost like purring.
The sound of your taboo little fling filled the cave until you drowned in it.
The water kept rising. It was breaking, lapping, streaming in to lap over your conjoined bodies. It almost seemed to be mimicking Miguel’s own feelings; the peaking, the brewing tension in his gut as he wallowed in pleasure.
He started to get faster.
‘Miguel--!’
You tried to cry out but he fucked the words from your mouth. His claws raked your skin as his abdomen thrashed and humped you into submission.
‘Uhn- uhn- uhn—uhn- uhn-' 
‘Mi—a-ah—mi—Mig—’
Wave after wave swept in, until eventually, you were covered.
With a sudden gasp you went under.
In the frantic thralls of mating Miguel didn’t seem to notice. You watched bubbles rise to the surface as you gasped and moaned, sounds that were utterly muffled by the deep. A pressure covered your mouth and nose until you were utterly unable to breath, a pressure that matched the pressure on your insides. You could focus on nothing now but that wet slap, the pounding of flesh going in and out of your guts, the passionate thrashing of his tail as he fucked you raw.
It was too much. Right as you started to get lightheaded, you orgasmed, your whole body spasming and straining around his cocks.
The feel of you clenching thankfully managed to snap him from his trance. Miguel drew his head from your neck to find your eyes rolling backward, and in a panic he lent forward and kissed you. His lips were full and smooth, easily drawing back and forth against your own, and as his tongue snaked down into your throat you felt the last cusp of your conscious mind pleading for more.
But then you gasped, and you were not met with a mouthful of sea water this time. Miguel withdrew his lips from yours and with it he blew a small air bubble across your mouth, allowing you to breathe.
You realized that water had filled the cave so high that you were both now suspended, your body clasped in his hands to stop it drifting away. You could see all of him. His long tail snaking, his thick fleshy shafts between your spread legs, his broad beautiful human torso above you. You saw it all.
You panted hard as your eyes met. You were still impaled on his cock, with his strong arms and muscular tail holding you beneath the water. He panted back, bubbles flying from his lips. As soon as he confirmed that you were, in fact, breathing, he grunted, and to your surprise pulled himself out.
You watched the bulge in your belly slip out as his cock exited your hole.
For a moment you were distraught, sure that you’d done something wrong, but it was only for a moment. He immediately pulled you close and entered you again, though this time he entered you twice. One cock slipped its oily girth into your cunt while the other slid up into your anus, filling you to absolute completion.
He groaned, hard, and immediately started to rut you again. He wouldn’t allow you to be hurt, but by god, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He was on the cusp of euphoria.
‘A-Ah—fuck--!’
Your moans were no longer muffled as he started to fuck you again. Your screams just kept him going. The sweet siren call of your own pleasure, your own need. It drove him to seek it, drove him to arch his tail and buck his hips for more.
He grabbed your wrist with one of his hands and pulled you in close, smoothly wrapping himself around you until you were bound by his body. It looked almost sweet, like you were ballroom dancing, but it was anything but.
He was using every muscle he had to push against your weightless state, working against gravity to fuck you all the same. You clung to him as he squeezed the life back into you.
‘Ah… Miguel—!’
His entire, massive slender form was thrashing and humping to get deeper, closer, harder, almost crushing you in response. You just kept begging, screaming.
His tail whipped ferociously. His grunts were forming bubbles in the deep, little manifestations of his primal urge. He thrust, and he thrust, and he thrust, and he ravaged your creamy little cunt with each one. He forced your legs a little further apart with his slippery body. He pushed in deeper.
And then, with a guttural, wordless groan, he climaxed.
You let him cum inside you. You let those long, slippery shafts pulse and pump, creaming you into a whimpering mess, stuffing you up until it was all you could feel. The warmth, the grip, his body and flesh merged with your own. You took all he had to offer between your legs.
‘A-ah… ah….’
In the comedown you found yourself floating. The cave was completely filled with water, something that seemed impossible.
Miguel grunted and gently swam you both to the surface, to a tiny pocket of air left at the top of the cave. As you surfaced your little air bubble popped and you gasped. There you stayed, floating weightless in his arms as he held you to his chest, allowing you to relax. You were sore, and bruised, but it was so, so worth it.
‘Are—are you okay?’
Miguel’s voice jolted you from a sleep you hadn’t even noticed yourself falling into. ‘Y… Yeah, ah—very, very good’ you panted.
He let your head fall back so you could meet his gaze, but he kept his shafts inside you, and he kept his arms and tail around you too. He kept you close.
‘Come with me.’
His eyes were eerie in the dark water. They glowed so brightly, like an anglerfish’s lure, a deep and passionate red that danced across your skin.
‘Let me take you deeper’ he whispered. ‘Let me- adore you.’
‘C…. C-Can I, do that?’ you stammered.
His eyes were so soft in the dark. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips.
‘If you wish it’ he whispered again. ‘You can leave your life behind. I’ll take you away. I’ll take you somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet and calm, somewhere they won’t bother you anymore. A world untouched by any man.’
‘I… what if I change my mind?’
Miguel blinked. Did he look, hurt? It was hard to say. He raised his dripping hand to his lips and blew another bubble, which he tenderly held out to your face.
‘It’s an offer to come with me. To be free. I offer you my breath, that’s all. But you can have the rest, too. You can have the rest of me, if you let me have you.’
Your heart skipped a beat beneath his glowering gaze. To your surprise, it was an easy answer.
‘Yes.’
Miguel purred. He popped the little air bubble and instead kissed your lips, creating a new one over your mouth as he simultaneously sank you back into the depths.
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Text
I know I said I would only be talking about Palestine this week, but I need to talk about this as well.
This is somewhat political and also a personal rant.
I stated on @crystalsandbubbletea (My main for those who are unaware) that I am a minor with ADHD, Autism, and possible anxiety who is part of the LGBTQIA+ community and is also Indigenous American (Ponca Tribe). Why am I mentioning this?
Because of the 'Kids Online Safety Act', AKA 'KOSA'.
If this bill gets passed, I will be unable to post Legacies or gain access to the things that inspire me to work on Legacies. I created Legacies because I wanted people like me to have a series to relate to, I also created Legacies to debunk multiple harmful stereotypes.
Here comes the personal rant part:
When I realized I was part of the LGBTQIA+ community (I was approximately nine years old at the time), I tried so hard to find pieces of media I could relate to, specifically media with queer neurodivergent non-white people. Unfortunately I didn't find that much media that covered those categories.
Fast forward to some time later (Specifically when I was fourteen), I ended up deciding that I can make a series that people like me can relate to. After multiple rough drafts in my brain, and multiple scrapped storylines, I came up with Legacies, a series that starts off as an alternative history of the world and then eventually becomes a piece of fanfiction. I eventually decided the first protagonist would be a nonbinary polyamorous lesbian living in the Ottoman Empire, and after some more time, I decided their name would be 'Alex Adil Emre Yukime'. I then started planning the second protagonist, this protagonist would be Hungarian-Palestinian that's nonbinary, polyamorous, trixic, demisexual and demiromantic (Note: All the arcs Berat is in takes place in the 2500's).
I was ultimately satisfied when I finalized the storyline, and was happy.
(Rant ends here)
Unfortunately that happiness wouldn't last long when I learned about KOSA. If KOSA gets passed, Legacies will be unable to reach it's targeted demographics, and that will mean all my hopes and dreams were for nothing.
I won't be the only one affected, many more people will also be affected, specifically LGBTQIA+ youth. We will be unable to find anything LGBTQIA+ related because it will be flagged as "Not safe for minors". Trans people are already facing censorship (Looking at you, Tumblr staff) and this bill will make it worse.
So please, call and email your representatives, and tell them to not let KOSA pass. This bill is censorship and censorship is a form of facism.
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