#accepting his fate or playing along

[jichanxo]

how it started:

how it's going:

[plutotheplum]

The First Fall of Snow

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 2!

summary: the emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, breast play, masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of exhibitionism, virginity loss

wc: 7.7k

a/n: i did imagine long-haired zayne for this (like his master of fate card!) and he just gives off emperor vibes soooo

also on ao3!

The Emperor was a peculiar man. 

He was not a man who fancied company. When the years for marriage had passed, his royal advisors had grown increasingly anxious. All potential candidates were refused, princesses from far lands given profuse apologies and lavish gifts in hopes of quelling their anger after they had traveled such vast distances, only for the Emperor to turn them away. 

In an effort to try and draw out the Emperor’s romantic and sexual nature, several concubines were gathered. The Emperor had never overseen this, the affair carried out in veiled whispers as his advisors had sought to dispel their desperation by pooling their efforts into securing an heir for the dynasty. 

That was what you were told when you arrived in the palace anyways. It had been a year since you were hand-picked as a concubine, along with a few other girls who had been eager to accept when the opportunity had been provided to them.

You had only met the Emperor a handful of times, when you first been brought to the palace and during private meetings that had been scheduled. He had never touched you or any of the other girls, had never sought after pleasure or secured an heir, much to the chagrin of Imperial staff. Like any other person, you thought it was odd. 

Part of you felt as though you were wasting away in this palace, days spent outside by the pretty gardens and overlooking the fish in the ponds, entertaining stray cats or inside, like you were now.

You stare down at the steaming water in the teapot, watching as the tea leaves stain the water. The blurry reflection of your face looks back up at you and there’s a soft sigh escaping you, wondering what might’ve been if you hadn’t been chosen.

Such thoughts are lost when a short, stout man comes hobbling in. He grabs at your arm, teacup filled with hot tea tipping to the side. You wince when the hot liquid lands against your skin, burning you.

“The Emperor needs tea,” the eunuch hisses, pulling another set of teaware from the shelves as he tugs you closer.

“Why does that involve me?,” you ask, trying to free yourself so you can soothe your irritated skin under cool water.

“You will deliver it to him,” he says, fiddling with your robes and straightening out the fabric to make you look more presentable.

“Have another one of the girls-” you begin to complain, shrinking away when he sends you a glare.

You huff out a breath, making sure the pin in your hair is in place. There’s no time to tend to the burn on your forearm, the reddened skin hidden by the sleeves of your robes as the eunuch passes you the tray. 

Sending him a glare of your own, you don’t stay behind to be chastised. Feet padding against the floor, you pass through the courtyard and hallway. Imperial guards stand outside the Emperor’s quarters and you bow your head, stating your business. 

One of the guards opens the doors and you suck in a sharp breath, gathering your confidence as you step inside the Emperor’s quarters. 

It’s a familiar place. The room is large, scrolls stacked upon shelves tucked against the walls, decorative screens partitioning the entrance to where his bed was placed. You swallow nervously, eyes blinking about. You can’t seem to find the Emperor. Deciding to step forward, you’re pushing your luck, sticking your head outside the open doors at the other end of his quarters. It opens into a private courtyard, greenery pruned to perfection.

There’s a frown pulling at your lips when you can’t see him. Perhaps he had left? Just as you’re about to give up, a man clears his throat. You jolt in place, tea sloshing as you struggle to keep a hold on the tray. Whirling around, you find the Emperor standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a curse entering your mind, placing the tea tray down on a table nearby before your knees are bending, meeting the floor as you bow in a seated position.

“Please forgive me, your majesty” you breathe out, eyes squeezing shut. 

You would rather not feel the wrath of the Emperor.

“I did not ask for tea,” he says bluntly.

“The- the eunuch insisted,” you supply lamely.

The Emperor only sighs and your eyes are peeking open, head tilting slightly as you try to get a glimpse of his expression. 

“You may stand,” he murmurs, waving his hand. You do as he says, stumbling to your feet, teeth gritting together when the cloth of your robes rubs against the still fresh burn on your forearm.

He takes a seat on a cushioned mat and you’re standing awkwardly, trying to taper down your fidgeting as the pain flares up again.

“Is something the matter?” the Emperor asks when he sees your inability to stand still. 

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. The Emperor only stares at you, unimpressed. His gaze drags over you and your cheeks are flushing in embarrassment. 

“Sit,” he says suddenly, pointing to the space across from him.

“I-” you begin to refuse, restless to get out of this stifling place and tend to the burn that was currently beginning to sting.

“Sit, or will you refuse an Imperial command?”

To refuse an Imperial command is to forfeit one’s life. It’s why you’re sitting down in a flurry and looking everywhere at everything except him. 

“Arm,” he murmurs, holding his hand out.

You extend your arm towards his hand without question. He hums when he brushes the sleeves away, moving your arm closer to his eyes so he can examine the burn. The Emperor’s lithe fingers prod at the edges of your reddened skin, and a whimper slips out of you, the tender skin sensitive.

He pulls away from you and your eyes are darting towards the doors, wondering whether it would be worth it to make a break for it. The Emperor returns soon after, a small pot in his hand, containing some sort of salve.

“Your majesty, it is beneath you to tend to such a matter,” you remind him, feeling his cool fingers wrap around your arm again.

“Perhaps so, but I happen to take interest in the ailments of the body,” he replies, spreading the salve against your skin.

So the rumors were true then. Many spoke of the Emperor’s affinity for the study of medicine. You had assumed he would’ve taken more interest in other pursuits such as hunting, but it appeared the Emperor valued intellect above all else. 

As the salve soothes your skin, you find your gaze slipping over him. Pale skin, intelligent eyes framed by dark eyelashes, a strong nose and long hair tied back neatly, there was no doubt that the Emperor was a handsome man. 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, his own gaze dipping over you once again. You feel as though you’re being scrutinized, so you’re sitting up straighter, trying to not present yourself as a mess.

“He sent you here to entice me,” the Emperor explains, beginning to wrap your wound using a thin, silken cloth.

“Oh. Is- is it working?” you ask tentatively.

“If you consider making a fool of yourself enticing, then maybe so,” he says, the side of his mouth curling up as amusement flashes through his eyes.

There’s a sharp scoff leaving you, arm tugging free from his grasp. The bandages are tight around your arm and you send him a frown, placing your hands in your lap.

“You take liberties that others do not,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I apologize, your majesty,” you whisper, head hanging low. He was right, you were taking liberties. 

“Zayne,” he says, opening a scroll.

“Your- your majesty?” you reply, confusion flitting across your face.

“Zayne,” he repeats, not bothering to even spare you a glance “you may address me by my name.”

You hold your tongue in return, eyes narrowing as you stare at the Emperor. It must be a trick of some sort, you think, a ploy to make you slip up, and just like the traitors of the Empire, your head would be severed from your neck. 

“You would distrust my own command?” he asks, sensing your hesitation. “I never said such a thing!” you protest, exasperation spreading across your face.

Sitting in place, you pout to yourself, tracing random shapes onto the cushioned mat. Zayne ignores your presence and it has you fidgeting even more, a huff of air leaving you. 

The Emperor only continues to read the scroll in his hands. Pouring out some tea, you decide to indulge yourself. Your face contorts when you taste the now lukewarm liquid. It’s hardly enjoyable. Letting out another deep sigh, your body sags. There’s nothing for you to do here, the Emperor won’t carry a conversation and you only find that you’re making a fool of yourself even more.

“Shall I leave?” you ask him, feeling hopeful that you might be able to escape.

Zayne shakes his head. 

“Stay a little while. It would do good for my advisors to think they have succeeded.”

“Succeeded?” you echo, brows furrowing.

“They expect an heir,” he sighs, setting down the scroll to give you his full attention, “surely you are aware of my… aversion to the entire matter.”

“I cannot say I understand,” you murmur, “you need an heir, and an illegitimate heir is an heir nonetheless.”

“The duty will be fulfilled when I am ready,” he says firmly.

Your head tilts at that, eyes narrowing. When he was ready? There would be no reason for the Emperor to not be ready.

“Other noblemen take pleasure in using women’s bodies,” you mutter, peering over at him, “it is strange that you have not yet touched any one of us.”

“You wish for me to use you?” Zayne asks, raising his brows. 

“N- no! I just meant, it is odd that an Emperor whose rule has granted him anything he may possibly desire chooses not to engage in anything,” the words come out of you in a rush, your cheeks flushing. 

“And have you engaged in anything?” he shoots back, his eyes sharp.

Admitting your own virginity wasn’t on your plan of things to do today. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, eyes averted to the side. Your silence is answer enough, and Zayne sighs, his fingers rubbing at his temples.

“I did not ask for concubines,” he says quietly, “and so, I do not expect you to serve me in such a fashion.”

“You may leave,” he says after a few moments, standing up with you.

Your head tilts, teeth worrying into your lower lip as he stares down at you.

“It appears you care for me,” he murmurs, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your heart flutters at the unexpected action, eyes widening when he touches you.

“Only for the dynasty,” you breathe out.

Zayne lets out a low laugh at that. He gives you a faint smile and your heart stutters in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look so ethereal, but such is the favor of the gods.

It’s probably why you’re leaning forward, hands reaching to fix the crumpled collar of his silk robes. He stiffens under your touch and you pretend as though you don’t notice. Your fingers graze his skin and his hand curls around your wrist, stopping your movements.

“I shall expect you here in a week’s time,” he says.

“A week’s time,” you nod, feeling his fingers touch the cloth wrapped around your burn.

The Emperor lowers his head, his fingers gripping your chin gently so he can stare into your eyes more intently. He seems lost in thought as he swipes his thumb over your chin, his head nearing until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

It’s almost too much for your racing heart. Your already half-lidded eyes are slipping shut, lips parting as you lean in closer, waiting for him to kiss you. But it never comes and your eyes flutter open to see Zayne staring down at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes. He was making a fool of you yet again. 

To preserve whatever dignity you have left, you’re pulling away, freeing yourself from his suffocating grasp. Bowing in deference, you don’t look back to see his expression, pushing past the doors as you leave his quarters.

Almost immediately, you’re met with the eunuch from earlier.

“Well?” he asks, his cheeks puffed with exertion as he tries to keep up with the pace you’ve set in an attempt to escape questioning.

“Nothing happened,” you reply curtly, looking back to see the short man totter after you.

“Nothing?” he repeats, voice laced with irritation, “not even-“ his voice lowers, mindful of the other staff working in the palace, “he did not even touch you?” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t need to know that the Emperor had indeed touched you; tended to your burn even, that you were hoping the Emperor would hold you close and kiss you, and he most certainly didn’t need to know about your little displays of insolence. 

The eunuch soon loses interest in you, grumbling curses under his breath as you retire to your own chambers shared with the other girls. It’s no secret that many of them have become bored with the Emperor’s apathetic outlook, some turning their charms to try and garner the affections of noblemen at court.

-

It’s raining the day you’re meant to meet the Emperor. 

You step inside his chambers when the guards permit you, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Your majesty” you bend at the waist, bowing.

Zayne hums in response, striding closer to you. His fingers lift your arm, undoing the gauze to uncover your injury. The salve he had applied to your skin had soothed the burn, and it had begun to heal nicely. 

“I told you to address me by my name,” he reminds you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he examines your skin, “must I remind you again, or will phrasing it as an Imperial command suffice?”

Your mouth opens automatically to retort sharply. He looks at you, brows raised. Spending more time in his presence has only vexed you, irritation making you almost forget who you were with. Mouth clamping shut, you send him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Forgive me,” you say begrudgingly, “Zayne.”

“Better,” he murmurs.

You don’t know whether he’s referring to your obedience or the state of your wound. 

“It will scar,” Zayne continues, turning your arm so that he can see your skin in better light.

“Badly?” you ask, a frown tugging at your lips.

“More salve will lessen the effect,” he says, finally letting go of your arm.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The Emperor stares at you, his gaze unwavering. It has you wishing that you hadn’t listened to his request at all. The palace physician would have more than likely provided you with the necessary treatment, and yet here you were, being tended to by the Emperor of all people.

“Do you wish for me to repay you?” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Did we not already have this conversation?” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I had assumed-”

“Do not assume anything.”

Zayne’s voice has hardened, the slight softness in his eyes no longer present. You’ve overstepped. He pulls away from you, turning his back to you as he walks towards the open doors of his quarters. Rain wets the inside, the mats on the floor darkening but the Emperor doesn’t seem to care.

Feeling like a scolded child, you trail after him.

“Forgive me,” you whisper, keeping your gaze trained on the floor.

It seems to be all that you’re doing now. Apology after apology after apology. It’s a miracle you haven’t yet been executed for your impertinence. 

He turns to face you, his hand lifting. For a moment you think he’s about to slap you, a grimace settling on your face as you await the stinging punishment. Instead, all you feel is his hand on your head, petting you like you were some sort of unruly cat.

Zayne’s fingers begin to slip and you can feel the soft tips of his fingers graze the side of your face, traveling lower as he traces your jawline. You hold still, eyes wide with anticipation. He doesn’t stop, his fingers dragging down the length of your neck, parting your robes until you feel his fingers swipe across your collarbone. 

“You are stubborn,” he says softly, “steadfast and oddly endearing. Perhaps I should keep you by my side.”

You stare up at him, jaw slackening, baffled. 

“I thought you would appreciate it,” he murmurs, the sharpness in his eyes returning, “just moments ago you were offering yourself to me.”

It’s a struggle to bite back the whimper that so eagerly wants to escape when his fingers drag lower, skimming across the soft skin of the tops of your breasts. His other hand plays with the knot tied at the side, nimble fingers untying the only thing keeping your robes together. The soft fabric slips from your shoulders and you find yourself in front of the Emperor, breasts bared.

He lets out a low hum, both of his hands coming to cup your breasts. Your teeth have been biting into your lip so hard that you can taste the tang of blood on your tongue. Zayne swipes his thumbs over your nipples and you find yourself unable to rip free from his wandering touch. 

“Should you not tell me to stop?” the Emperor asks, his face nearing yours.

There’s no will left in you to answer, a sharp gasp escaping you when he pinches your nipples to punctuate his question. The sensation only adds to the wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Please,” you whimper, the desperation clear in your eyes, “please, Zayne.”

“I may have the favor of the gods, but I cannot foresee your desires,” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “tell me. What is it you want?”

“Kiss,” you manage out, “kiss me, please.”

The Emperor’s hands haven’t stopped their exploration, squeezing and groping at your breasts. Zayne lowers his head, forehead pressing against yours as you mewl and whimper under the onslaught of his caressing touches. The ache between your thighs has become unbearable with the way he plays with your nipples. He tugs and pinches, thumbs swiping over your areolas to grant you reprieve before rolling your nipples between his fingers again. 

“Wantonness has made you far more polite,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours.

It’s not a kiss, and you’re squirming in frustration with the way the Emperor is stringing you along, driving you to the edge of pleasure and yet refusing to grant you what you desire the most. 

“I- I can be even more polite,” you mumble pathetically, hands curling into his robes.

You chase after his lips, brows furrowing when he draws up to his full height, smiling down at you. Lips jutting out into a pout, you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to tug him back down so you can kiss him. It’s a futile endeavor, the Emperor only manages to evade all of your attempts to draw him into a kiss. 

“I shall look forward to it,” Zayne murmurs, his lips pressing against your forehead gently.

There’s no way to discern what exactly is going through the Emperor’s mind. He no longer continues with his lustful touches, pulling away with a final caress of your breasts as he pulls your loosened robes over your shoulders again. You can only watch with dazed eyes, frozen in place as he helps redo the knot holding your robes together, covering you up properly so that unnecessary slivers of skin aren’t showing anymore. 

“Do you do this with the others?” you ask, eyes finding his.

“Does the thought make you jealous?”

You frown at his retort, sending him a glare, “the Emperor may do as he wishes,” you grumble.

It’s hard to hide the jealousy that underlies your words. You want to be the only person he touches, to be the object of his affections. It’s a selfish desire to want the Emperor to need you only, but you can’t help yourself, envy flaring up inside of you at the thought of him touching another woman the way he touches you. 

“You are the first to elicit such a reaction from me,” Zayne says, his fingers tilting your head so he can stare into your eyes more directly.

Letting out an irritated huff, you feel irked by his subtle way of trying to please you. He doesn’t reply to your display of irritation, nudging his forehead against yours as though trying to convey his affection. 

“Go now,” he whispers, petting your hair again before he’s moving away, turning his back to you as he returns to peer out at the rain that falls outside.

You have half the mind to call him out on his behavior, but the reminder of your position is the stifling reality in which you live in. Despite his gaze elsewhere, you bow to him, turning on your heel to leave.

Thankfully, there are no lurking eunuchs to question your brief stay in the Emperor’s quarters. The palace staff don’t pay you any mind as you return to your chambers, and you explain to the other girls that you feel sick. 

The whimpers that spill from your mouth are muffled by the pillow that you’ve pressed your face into, the fingers of one hand rubbing at your clit and the other hand pinching at your nipples as you try to mimic the way the Emperor had touched you. With the image of Zayne’s face ingrained into your mind, it doesn’t take long, a soft moan escaping into the quiet of your chambers as you come apart on your fingers. 

-

You’re spying on the Emperor. 

The past year had been plenty of time to explore the palace and figure out the little passageways that weren’t well known. Perhaps you were just as bad as his advisors that were intent on prying into Zayne’s private life, but you just couldn’t help yourself. 

It’s why you’re here now, hovering outside his quarters, pretending to take great interest in the portraits that line the halls. Every now and then, your eyes flick over to where the guards stand, trying to discern whether anyone was entering or leaving his chambers. 

You almost feel pathetic for acting in such a way, but he was the only thing you could think about. Visiting the gardens had grown dull, despite the leaves turning into pretty shades of orange and red in the autumn air, thoughts of the Emperor taking root in the crevices of your mind instead. 

“My grandfather,” a deep voice breaks through your thoughts. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Handsome,” you mutter, taking a step closer to examine the portrait genuinely this time.

“My guards have complained about a woman hiding in the hallways,” Zayne says, his hand falling onto your shoulder. “I did not realize it was an offense to admire fine art,” you shoot back.

“There are far finer things in this palace,” he murmurs, stepping forward until you’ve been backed up against the wall.

It’s becoming more and more apparent to you that the Emperor must be suffering some sort of illness to the mind. You struggle to come up with a reason as to why his arm curls around your waist, whilst he presses himself closer. 

You try and push at his firm chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“People will see,” you whisper heatedly, eyes darting to the sides despite Zayne being so close that you can hardly see anything but him.

“So let them.”

Zayne reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. You stiffen under the sudden touch, eyes widening when his thumb brushes over your skin.

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper, frowning.

“Is my mind not allowed to change?” he asks in return, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“I am far more concerned that you have lost your mind.”

The Emperor lets out a deep chuckle and you think the air around you both has somehow grown thicker with how lightheaded you’re feeling.

“I assure you, I am still of sound mind.”

His nose brushes against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, nose nudging against his gently. The heat of his body is intoxicating, his arm tightening around your waist as he exhales. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating the feeling of his lips against yours.

It’s not to be, not when an Imperial guard insists on interrupting your moment with the Emperor.

“Is this woman bothering you?” the guard asks, his gaze dragging over you with obvious disregard. 

The utter nerve. Eye twitching, you ready yourself to snap back but Zayne’s squeeze to your waist has you staying silent.

“She was feeling ill,” Zayne lies steadily. 

The Emperor’s mask of cool indifference slips over him easily, his lips pulled thin as he speaks to the guard. 

“I shall escort her to the physician,” the guard offers, his hand reaching for you.

Zayne pulls you out of reach before the guard can touch you, tucking you against his side.

“No need,” Zayne says, “I shall take her myself.”

You can almost hear the nervous gulp that the guard takes, his face paling at the Emperor’s stony disposition. Unfortunately, you don’t get long to revel in the satisfaction that spreads through your body when Zayne reprimands the guard. Zayne tugs you along, his hand wrapped around your wrist. It appears the Emperor knows of the passages as well, and a few twists and turns later you find yourself back in the Emperor’s quarters, having bypassed the Imperial guards.

“Did you see his face?” you snicker, looking over at Zayne.

Your smile fades when he doesn’t reply, the grip on your wrist almost painful without how firmly his hand is still holding onto you.

“Zayne? Are you-”

You nearly trip over your own feet when he suddenly pulls you closer. Zayne’s lips are slotting over yours, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you. There’s a small noise of surprise coming from you, eyes widening before they flutter shut, your body lulled into submission with the feverish kisses Zayne gives you.

He groans into your mouth and you cling to his robes, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kisses better. The Emperor might’ve been starved with the way he’s kissing you, his lips firm and insistent against yours whilst he holds you in place. 

Zayne pulls away after a while, and you’re completely and utterly dazed, chest heaving as soft pants fill the space between you both.

“Will you have me?” he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.

No man has ever spoken such words to you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart clenching uncomfortably in your chest. As the Emperor, he shouldn’t say such a thing. 

“It is beneath you to ask,” you murmur, averting your gaze.

“And yet, I am asking,” Zayne replies, his hands maneuvering your head until you have no choice but to look into his eyes.

Letting out an irritated huff, as though he had somehow inconvenienced you, you lean forward and press a chaste kiss against his lips. You can’t bring yourself to say the words out loud, feeling uncharacteristically shy as you shift on the spot.

“I see.”

Zayne’s surging towards you again, lips crashing onto yours. You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as you press yourself closer. His arms are wrapping around your waist, keeping you flush against him as he ravages your mouth. His tongue is teasing your lower lip, coaxing it open. You have no choice but to obey, letting out a muffled moan when his tongue slides deeper into your mouth, his hand pulling at the pin holding your hair together. 

You squeak when he picks you up, his lips trailing burning kisses down your neck as he nudges the partition blocking his way to his bed. Zayne undoes the knot holding your robes together before long, your thighs straddling his hips as you sit perched on his lap once he sits down on his bed.

“Have you really never given yourself to anyone?” Zayne asks quietly, his fingers tracing across the soft skin of your shoulders.

You nod, body leaning forward to chase after his touch as his fingers find their way back down to your nipples, rolling the pebbled buds between the pads of his fingers.

“H- have you?” you ask, biting your lip as he presses heated kisses against your collarbone.

He shakes his head, lips drifting lower and lower, until your body twitches as his lips enclose around your nipple. A whimper leaves you, and Zayne grows bolder with his movements, sucking harshly as his tongue swirls around your nipple, flicking the little bud in his mouth.

Your hands have drifted into his hair, pulling free the band that holds his long locks together. His dark hair runs past his shoulders, the strands soft under your touch as you pull at his hair, moaning as he continues his exploration across your chest.

Zayne looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, spit-slick lips dragging across your chest to pepper kisses against your other breast, his mouth enveloping your nipple yet again. He lets out a low groan and you whine, pulling at his robes desperately to pull them off.

“Oh,” you breathe out when he lets you, biting your lip at the sight of his bare chest and abdomen. Your fingers spread across his chest eagerly, mapping out the expanse of his skin. There’s a sly smile spreading across your face when you see his cheeks flush pink as your fingers drag lower, past his navel.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks hoarsely, his head tipping back.

“Should I not?” you whisper, fingers delving lower until you can feel his hardness through his robes.

You rub your hand against the bulge experimentally, eyes lighting up when he lets out a grunt. Face tucking into the crook of his neck, your breasts squished against his chest, you place hungry kisses against his neck, palming at his bulge.

The Emperor tugs at your hair, pulling your head back. You stare up at him, meeting him in the middle when he leans forward, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands squeeze at your waist and you shift in his lap, letting him undress you completely.

Nervousness flits across your face as he stares at your bare body, hands leaving him to cover yourself up. He grabs your hands before you can, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“You are beautiful,” he whispers, lips drifting to kiss the shell of your ear.

A shy smile pulls at your lips and he squeezes your waist again. Your brows furrow when he jostles you, making you straddle his thigh instead.

“I want to watch,” Zayne says, his fingers dimpling into the fat of your thighs.

“Watch?” you echo, head tilting in question.

“I want to watch you come undone,” he clarifies, gripping your hips as he guides you into grinding against his thigh.

A strangled noise leaves you and he pats your hip, satisfied. You’re so aroused that your slick has begun to wet his silken robes, the fabric darkening as you roll your hips, dragging your pussy against his thigh.

“I- I want to watch you too,” you gasp out.

Zayne obliges and you watch as he pulls his cock free. The sight is almost enough to have you coming on his covered thigh. His fingers wrap around his cock and you whine, hips rolling faster. “Is it to your satisfaction?” he murmurs.

You nod rapidly. It is. You’ve never seen one before, but you just know Zayne’s is pretty compared to the others. His cock is thick, flushed prettily at the tip to match the blush on his cheeks and you lick your lips, wondering what it might feel like in your mouth. 

“Another time,” Zayne says, smiling when he sees the expression on your face.

It’s entrancing to watch the way his hand drags up and down his cock, his long fingers wrapped around himself. Globs of pre-cum bead at the tip, wetting his hands and his cock, creating a sinful sound. Unable to help yourself, you tilt your head, tongue lolling out as you let your own spit drip down onto his cock. You hum in delight when his thighs twitch, your eyes peering into his as you drag your cunt against his thigh, clit catching on the fabric of his robes just right. 

“I did not know my concubine was so depraved,” he murmurs, his hand kneading the flesh at your hip roughly.

You give him a dopey smile, eyes slipping back down to watch his hand move around his cock whilst you rock your hips. Head falling against his shoulder, your lips drag across his chest, landing soft kisses against his skin before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, nipping his skin lightly.

Airy sounds fill the air, his quiet moans and your soft whimpers emanating in his quarters. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press yourself closer, guiding his head into another kiss. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth with no hesitation. Zayne’s pulling apart suddenly, his previous desire of watching you come undone on your thigh forgotten as he manhandles your body, making you lay down against his bed.

The Emperor kisses you over and over, and your head is swirling, trying to keep up whilst his fingers have found their way down to your pussy, rubbing your wetness across the sensitive flesh before he finds your clit. All it takes is one firm press of his thumb, your thighs twitching violently as you grasp at the sheets, moaning loudly as you come. He smiles against your lips, granting you one last kiss before he directs his attention elsewhere, his face disappearing between your thighs.

“Z-Zayne!” you squeal, pushing at his head, trying to get him to stop as the overstimulation becomes too much.

The Emperor ignores you in favor of thumbing apart your folds, his eyes trained on your clit.

“Pretty” he whispers, the pads of his fingers stroking over your clit gently, “and so, so swollen.”

It has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he kisses the inside of your thighs, edging closer to your pussy, letting out a low breath, the air hitting your exposed pussy.

He groans when you tug at his hair, and you writhe, trying to somehow free yourself from the onslaught of his tongue as he laves over your pussy, pressing sloppy kisses against your skin, his lips latching onto your swollen clit. Zayne’s tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, teasing you.

Something between a moan and a scream climbs its way out your throat, the sound ringing in through his chambers as you come again, thighs firmly squeezing his head. Your eyes widen when you realize the guards are still outside the doors, panic flaring through your body as you scramble to sit up.

Zayne’s hand slides over your mouth before you can get anything out, the stern look in his eyes making you go still. The rapping of the guard’s knuckles against the door has you rigid, eyes widening in alarm as he begins to move his tongue yet again. 

You glare at Zayne, tugging at his hair roughly to make it hurt as you attempt to get his mouth off of you. Zayne only gives you a hazy look, looking utterly gone as he presses his face deeper into your cunt. It’s a struggle to keep the noises in, your body shaking as his nose rubs into your clit and his tongue fucks in and out of your aching hole. 

“Your majesty?” An urgent voice calls out from behind the door, and you can hear the faint scuffling noises of the guards’ boots. 

“Someone get this door open!” another voice hisses, the sliding doors rattling soon after.

The Emperor grunts into your cunt, raising up finally. The sight of him is nearly enough to make you come for a third time. Zayne is utterly disheveled, his cheeks pink and the lower half of his face glistening with your slick. 

You watch as he runs his hand through his hair, biting your lip as you let your gaze wander, catching on his cock once again. He looks painfully hard, cum smeared across his skin and drool is pooling in your mouth. Getting onto your knees, you crawl forward eager to envelop it in your mouth.

The tip makes its way into your mouth for a brief moment and you can barely suck when Zayne is yanking you off of his cock, his hand curled into your hair. 

“Everything is fine,” the Emperor snaps, narrowing his eyes when you pout.

“We heard-”

“I said,” Zayne’s voice grows louder, “everything is fine.”

You think he might take out his wrath on you with the way he grips your cheeks roughly, planting another kiss to your lips. He’s manhandling you yet again, pushing at your shoulders to make you lie down as he settles his hips between your thighs.

Zayne’s cum smears against your skin and you whimper when the fat tip of his cock nudges against your clit. He lands a gentler kiss to your cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as you squirm under him, whimpering as he grinds his cock against your cunt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he lets his cock slide up and down against your folds, “my good girl.”

“Yours,” you agree, cheek squishing against the pillow, “all yours.”

“I want to see you like this all the time,” Zayne confesses, his hand grasping his cock to press it firmly against your cunt, coating it with your arousal, “all flustered and needy… perhaps I am losing my sanity.”

You need him inside of you. The emptiness in your pussy has made you all too aware, hips bucking with every drag of his heavy cock.

“More,” you whisper, voice slurring, “Zayne, I want more.”

Zayne draws back slightly and you watch as he squeezes his cock, pre-cum dripping steadily onto your thigh. He reaches for your hand, fingers lacing with yours.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

You nod, swallowing down your nervousness. He presses his cock into your hole and the stretch is uncomfortable, a pained whimper leaving you as Zayne guides his cock into you. 

“A little more,” he coaxes, kissing your forehead to try and distract you from the initial stretch.

He finally pushes his entire cock in, and you feel as though the air has been punched out of your lungs. Zayne fills you up so perfectly, his cock snug inside your cunt, the emptiness from earlier disappearing almost immediately.

It appears you have affected him just as much, his eyes squeezed shut as he pants into the crook of your neck, trying to get used to the wet heat of your cunt. 

“Perfect,” he mutters mindlessly, and you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside of you, “so- so perfect and warm and tight.”

A hazy smile drifts across your face, legs locking tighter around his hips as your pussy clenches around him.

Zayne lets out a ragged gasp, and you know he can feel it. His eyes bore into yours, brows pulled together in annoyance at your little tease.

“Little minx,” he hisses.

It’s you that gasping this time when he draws his hips back, nails clawing at his back as he thrusts into you. His cock is stretching you out, over and over, as he tries to press it in deeper, trying to carve a path from your pussy to your heart.

“Too- too much!” you wail, arms wrapping around his neck to cling onto him.

“Do you want the guards to hear?” Zayne murmurs against your ear, his hips slowing slightly.

Through the haze of it all, your head turns, eyes finding his. The truth is, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea. Zayne can see the flash of interest in your eyes and he lets out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

“I should have taken you sooner,” he mutters, his fingers squeezing at your hips, “kept you close to me from the beginning.”

You preen at the thought, pressing sloppy kisses against his jaw, feeling his cock drag in and out of you.

“Next time, I shall take you on my throne.”

Your movements pause, eyes widening as he whispers those words, his lips brushing across yours.

“Not like that-” you begin to say, cheeks flushing deeper as you imagine him taking you on his throne, his hips rutting into yours like they were now.

“Why not?” he asks, “Shall I command it? Have-” Zayne lets out a shuddering breath “have my entire court watch as my pretty, little concubine loses her mind, drunk on my cock as I claim her atop my throne?”

You moan unabashedly, cunt clenching around him tightly. Zayne grunts, his hips stuttering when at the feeling of your walls tightening before he’s gripping your thigh, his chest flush against yours as he picks up the pace. It’s no secret that the guards must have heard what was happening inside, your loud moans most likely drifting through the wood of the doors. Both you and the Emperor don’t seem to care, lost in the blur of lust that swirls between you both.

“Deeper,” you mumble, pouting up at him, “need- need you closer, Zayne.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Zayne mutters, dropping his weight on top of you.

You mewl in delight, the feeling of his body against yours deliciously warm. He hikes your thighs up a little higher, hips pressing deeper until you gasp. You can feel his balls pressed snugly against your ass, his cock as deep inside of you as it could go.

“Take it,” he whispers, his hand beginning to stroke your hair as he moves his hips. Short, sharp thrusts that serve to bury his cock into your cunt the way you want, “take it, my love.”

My love. Skin against skin. His hand stroking your hair gently. Girthy cock filling you up perfectly.

The sensations mixed with his affection are too much, pulling at your heart uncomfortably until you let out a sniffle, staring up at him with glassy eyes.

Concern passes through his eyes when he hears you sniffle, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes away a stray tear that beads at the corner of your eye.

“Am I hurting you?” Zayne asks softly.

You shake your head, lips trembling even more at his display of concern. 

“I just like you a lot is all,” you whisper, sniffling quietly.

“I like you too,” Zayne replies in kind, his lips pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “and I take care of what’s mine.”

He leans down, lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss. Your tears wet his cheeks as he keeps you there, kissing you gently whilst his hips roll into you.

“Let go for me, my love” he murmurs, and you’re clenching around him again, feeling his hand sneak its way between your bodies as his thumb rubs against your clit.

You whimper, head pressing back as you arch your back, the sensation of his cock and his fingers driving you further and further to the edge until he latches his mouth onto your breast, catching your nipple between his teeth. He bites down and a broken moan fills the air, body shuddering as you come on his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Zayne grits out when he feels the harsh clench of your cunt around his cock.

You can feel him bury his face into your chest and you reach up weakly, running your fingers through his hair. It’s enough to have him letting out a guttural noise against your chest, his fat cock twitching as his thick cum floods your pussy.

The Emperor lays on top of you, both of your bodies loosened completely. You whimper when he pulls out of you, his cum beginning to leak out from your cunt. Zayne stares at the sight for a moment, entranced, before pulling you closer, letting you press your face into his chest as he kisses your forehead. 

“Everyone will know by now,” you whisper.

“They will,” he agrees, his fingers prying your face away from where it hides.

Zayne peers down into your eyes, a faint smile playing across his lips as he swipes his thumbs against your skin.

“Stay here with me,” he says quietly, “by my side.”

You laugh softly at his proposition.

“I am your concubine,” you murmur, reaching up to curl your hand around his wrist, “nothing more.”

“You will be more,” Zayne insists, his voice hardening,  “I will have you.”

“Your advisors would not allow it!” you protest, eyes turning glassy again.

“Desperation will make them vulnerable to acceptance,” he retorts, his body pressing closer as though to keep you tethered to him, hands tightening around your cheeks.

“I am the Emperor,” he continues, forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours, “you said it yourself. I may do as I wish, and what I wish for is for you to be by my side.”

You swallow harshly, blinking up at him when you hear the sternness of his voice. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, kissing you desperately.

“Stay with me, my love” he whispers again, stealing kiss after kiss from you.

“Okay,” you relent, sinking into his embrace and returning his kisses just as desperately, “okay.”

The Emperor holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The heat of his body has your eyes drooping shut, his lips brushing over your forehead as he whispers sweet promises of his love.

Outside, far away from the warmth of love’s embrace, the first fall of snow has begun to drift from the sky.

[cherienymphe]

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

[theemporium]

[10k] an investigative study into the mysterious fish that saved his life; by oscar piastri with the assistance of logan sargeant, google searches and a crush that makes a man blind to the obvious signs that his coworker is a mermaid.

happy birthday @scuderiahoney!! for one of my fav people and one of my fav spirals we have had together<3

inspired by this moodboard

warning: mentions and descriptions of drowning!! idk why that wee bit went angsty but it did so be warned!!

.

THE PREFACE 

Oscar Piastri never considered himself a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy, but more of a ‘never have a plan’ kind of guy instead. 

He likes to let fate guide his decisions, or at least that’s what he told himself. That the universe was looking down at him and putting him where he needed to be. 

Because it was fate that he read the wrong room number, ending up in an ocean wildlife conservation lecture rather than the mechanical engineering one he was meant to be in. 

Because it was fate that he found a map, with a small seaside town circled, in the glovebox of the secondhand car he managed to save up and buy. 

Because it was fate that that very seaside town had one of Australia’s biggest ocean conservation programmes that was currently accepting applicants. 

Because it was fate that the dodgy, beachside cabin he bought for ridiculously cheap ended up being home to a stray dog who would become his best friend. 

Because fate was the only explanation for so many things in Oscar’s life that he never planned to happen nor did he believe would’ve just happened if he followed along the way he was. He chose to believe that there was some superior being up there that was making sure he was sticking to the path that was meant for him. 

And so far, it hadn’t led him astray. 

In fact, all things considered with his mother’s constant questioning and uncertainty of him moving so far from home for the programme, things had been working out pretty well for Oscar. 

He enjoyed the routine he had settled into in the almost year of being in one of Australia’s most picturesque, scenic seaside towns. 

Every morning he woke up just before sunrise, when the sky was breaking into pinks and oranges and yellows. He would shuffle his way into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of kibble for Buddy and a bowl of cereal for himself before taking a run along the beach (that was essentially his front garden) until the sun was in the sky. Some days he hit the water, most days he tried to stop Buddy from eating the jellyfish that had washed up on the beach. 

He would have a quick shower, put out some more food for Buddy before riding his bike fifteen minutes towards the water park (because unlike the others, he listened to Sebastian’s talks on lessening your carbon footprint). 

He would greet Alex and George by the door, the two already arguing or disagreeing about something or the other. 

“Alex, they have to show you proof of university ID to get a student discount!” 

“They looked trustworthy!” 

He would pass by the gift shop where Lando would be sitting on the cashier counter, swinging his legs back and forth and fiddling with the speakers to play whatever music he was feeling that day. 

“I’m telling you, Aussies love country music, Osc. You’re clearly the odd one out.” 

Some days, he would pass by Charles and Max by the tourist booth, bickering back and forth about the customer shows and tours for the day. 

“I can’t dedicate thirty minutes of my tour to you, Charles.” 

“But the penguins have learnt new tricks!” 

Other days he would pass by the labs where Sebastian would stick his head out, waving at the boy and throwing some weird and wondrous fact at him. 

“Hey, Oscar, did you see that the squid killer parasite was treated successfully last week?” 

And some days Sebastian stayed in the lab, the door closed and locked behind him which told Oscar and the others that Mark, the park’s owner, was visiting. 

And by the time Oscar reached the staff room to drop his stuff off in his locker and prepare for the day, Logan would’ve somehow hunted him down and began yapping his ear off about something or the other before he eventually brought up his favourite topic. 

The crush Oscar had on you. 

“You must be happy this morning,” Logan commented offhandedly as they left the main building, heading down towards the animal habitats. 

“As opposed to every other morning when I’m always angry and upset?” Oscar deadpanned, shooting the American a look. 

“Just thought you would’ve had a small mood booster after seeing the rota,” Logan shrugged, but there was a mischievous and knowing glint in his eyes. “Heard you were on the late shift.” 

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.” 

“On the late shift with a certain someone,” Logan continued. “Someone you happen to—”

“Do you have to do this every time?” Oscar asked, deadpanned.

But Logan was already nodding. “Yes, it brings me great joy when you try to act nonchalant and then lose your mind in front of her.” 

Oscar scoffed. “I do not lose my mind in front of her.” 

“Hey, guys!” 

Oscar felt his mouth run dry when he turned his head to find you already out on the dock by the dolphin enclosure. It was embarrassing the way his brain went blank, the way his eyes were glued to you—your outfit no different to the uniform both he and Logan and everyone else wore—and not a single coherent thought could leave his mouth. 

He felt Logan jab him in the ribs, kickstarting his brain and letting out an awkward garble before he managed to blurt out, “Heyo!” 

He wondered if jumping into the tank with the dolphins would save any of his dignity. 

“What he meant to say was hey back,” Logan called out, far too smiley as he tried to hold back his glee. “You’re out here early.” 

“I was teaching Rufus a new trick,” you explained, something quite fond in your voice as you turned to smile at the dolphin who was currently nudging a ball towards you. “And then Gizmo felt left out so I played with him a bit too.” 

Logan raised his brows. “With one ball?” 

“I’m creative,” you shrugged. “If you were working in the dolphin enclosure, I would’ve taught you my tricks, Sargeant.” 

“Well, you can always teach Oscar!” Logan said, giving his friend a slightly rough slap on the back which caused him to stagger forward. “I’m sure he would love to learn anything you wanna teach him!” 

Oscar shot Logan a glare. 

Logan only grinned wider. 

“I’ll see if I can make him a dolphin whisperer,” you teased, lighthearted and playful and unaware of the lingering tension between the two boys. You turned to Oscar with a kind smile on your face, one that kind of made his brain go fuzzy. “It’s been a while, Piastri. I’ve missed working with you.” 

And Oscar could feel his cheeks burning up but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he mirrored your smile, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“I’ve missed it too,” Oscar replied, sincere and genuine. 

He did. He really did. Because despite all of Logan’s taunting and teasing about Oscar’s crush on you—which was very much real—he also appreciated you as a friend. He had since the day you both started, anxious and eager and leaning on each other for support since day one. 

Just somewhere along the line, Oscar managed to catch some feelings he couldn’t quite shake away. But it was fine. He had them under control. He had long ago accepted they wouldn’t be requited and he would let them run their course before the friendship returned to normal—whilst you were none the wiser. 

“The dolphins missed you too,” you added. “That’s just ‘cause you feed them an extra herring.” 

“I gotta bribe them!” Oscar defended. “You have some secret bond with them. It’s not fair.” 

You snorted. “Well, lucky for you, you’re on swimming duty. Get that wet suit on, Piastri.” 

And then, you flashed him a wink and turned around and—

Yeah, Oscar was far from moving on from how he felt about you. 

But it was fine. Because Oscar Piastri was the kind of guy who let fate take the reins for him. 

Because fate led him to this town. Because fate led him to this job. Because fate led him to you and all the others he had bonded with to make a dysfunctional but supportive family. 

Because it was fate that led him to making one of the biggest discoveries in his life. 

…

THE SIGHTING 

It was as normal as a morning could be. 

He had woken up a little earlier than his alarm, a weird and unsettling feeling in his chest that he brushed off as the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Buddy wasn’t much better, not as eager to get out of the house as he usually was when Oscar stood by the door for their morning walk. 

It was a little chilly, enough to warrant Oscar wearing a jumper as they wandered down the beach until Buddy felt a little more relaxed and playful. 

But by the time they returned to the house, Oscar was still wired with some restless energy itching under his skin and still three hours until his shift started at the park. 

He thought a quick go at the morning waves would help settle the feeling buzzing through his body before he started scratching at his own skin. 

The water was cold and refreshing and definitely washed away any last dregs of sleep that Oscar had been clinging onto. The exhaustion was long gone, now replaced with a different type of adrenaline that made him seek out the waves that made him work for it. 

It was still early, far too early for many people to be on the beach. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and Buddy was still half asleep on the beach by his towel, no real rush to join Oscar in the water any time soon. 

Everything was fine. 

Everything was normal. 

The morning sun was starting to shine through, but instead of fluffy, white clouds like the forecast had assured, large, dark clouds were taking over the barely blue sky. It was disconcerting, especially when the waves seemed to be getting rougher. 

He took one glance down at his watch, assuring himself he had enough time for one more wave before he headed back to shore to get ready for his shift at the marine park. With a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes at the water and began paddling with his hands. 

The wave didn’t look too big or risky. It should have been an easy attempt, one that Oscar could do with little to no thought on a day with good weather. But the wind was stronger than he realised, the water more temperamental than he assumed and it didn’t take Oscar long to realise that this wave wasn’t going to end well. 

But the panic didn’t start setting in until the wave washed over him, knocking him off his board with little time for him to take a breath before he went under. He could feel the current tugging his body in different directions, pulling his arms one way whilst the leash around his ankle pulled him in the opposite direction with his board. 

And no matter how hard he kicked his legs and propelled his arms, he couldn’t seem to get any closer to the surface. 

It hit him that he was absolutely fucked when he could feel his lungs starting to burn.

Buddy would be left on the beach, whining and crying out for Oscar until someone found him. Or, god forbid, the loyal dog would try to swim out and find him himself. Oscar was all he knew, the only family Buddy had ever known and it was clear that the dog loved him. It made him feel a twisted sort of pain at the idea of leaving the dog behind. 

People at work would be confused when he didn’t turn up for his shift. Logan would probably be the first to notice when he spends far too long waiting for Oscar in the staff room, watching the clock with a frown. The blond would probably offer to drive out to his house to check up on him. Charles would probably offer to join and might even offer to drive if he could see the boy’s hand shaking too much. He wondered if you would join. 

Sebastian would probably have to call his family back home, to tell them. His stomach twisted into something bitter and awful at the thought of leaving his family behind, of never being able to hug his mother again or tease his sisters or surf with his father. 

His body stopped fighting at one point, too tired to even attempt to reach the surface. But his brain kept going, kept haunting him with the life his family and friends would lead whilst he continued to float and float and—

And then he saw it. 

It was blurry, his vision dotted with black and white blobs as the overwhelming urge to close his eyes took over his body. But he saw it. He saw the flashes of orange, the scales glimmering in the little light under the surface. He saw a fin and scales and then—

Skin. 

And hair. 

And arms reaching for him. 

And he swore he saw the features of a human face staring back at him, but before he could even try to force his eyes to focus, everything was going black and Oscar let it happen. 

…

The first that hit him was how fucking cold he was. 

The second was—

Well, the second hit him when his eyes blinked open, barely giving him a chance to acknowledge the people surrounding him before he coughed, emptying out the saltwater that was still stuck in his lungs. 

He could feel someone’s hand soothing his back, the action almost relieving if it weren’t for the fact Oscar swore he couldn’t stop shivering. 

“Let it all out, honey, atta boy,” a woman’s voice soothed as Oscar laid on his side, panting heavily and trying to wrap his head around everything before he felt a furry head pushing against his own. 

“Hey, Buddy,” Oscar breathed out, his lips twitching as he let the dog practically throw himself on top of Oscar even if it was still a little hard to breathe. 

“Smart dog you got there,” the woman spoke up again and Oscar finally turned his head to find a kind-looking woman smiling down at him. It took a few seconds before he realised she was wearing the paramedic uniform. “He managed to drag a couple out of their car to come help you. They are the ones who called us.”

Oscar blinked. “You swam out?” 

The woman frowned a little. “Of course not, honey. The waves seemed to have washed you in. You were lying out on the beach when we got called out.” 

“I—” Oscar blinked again, his confusion growing as he stared out at the ocean for a few moments. “Right. Of course.” 

“Do you remember what happened?” The kind paramedic asked.

“A little,” Oscar admitted. “I was surfing and the wave took me under. The current started dragging me further out. But then I saw—” Before he paused. Images of orange scales and a human face flashed in his mind but there was a voice in the back of his head that told him to stop, to keep that to himself.

“Saw what?” The paramedic prompted. 

“I don’t know,” Oscar eventually said as he shrugged. “I think I blacked out after that.” 

“I see,” the woman nodded, though he couldn’t read whether she believed him or not. “Think you can stand up? We just wanna do some standard tests, make sure you are alright. Then maybe someone you know can come pick you up.” 

“No need, my house is just there,” Oscar said as he nodded towards the cabin in the distance. “I feel fine, I promise—” 

“Procedure,” the woman said with a sheepish smile. “C’mon, it won’t take long. Promise.” 

And true to her word, it hadn’t taken long. 

Beyond some tests to prove that he knew his name, had basic motor functions and wasn’t concussed, he was allowed to head back home with Buddy by his side and a blanket wrapped around his body to try and maintain what little heat he had left.

His body was running mostly on muscle memory as he shuffled into the house, pulling the blanket off (against better judgement) and starting to unzip his wetsuit so he could peel it off his body like a second skin. 

He was smiling down at Buddy, who had refused to leave his side, when he felt a sharp prick against his finger. He winced, lifting his thumb to his mouth without second thought before glancing down to see what had nicked him. 

His eyes widened comically large when he saw an orange scale stuck to the side of his leg, sparkling and glistening the same way he swore it had under the water. The attempt of removing the wet suit was quickly abandoned as he glanced around the room, swearing under his breath before shuffling towards the kitchen. 

Buddy followed, whining and huffing as Oscar slammed cupboards doors open and shut before finding a small container. He leaned down, grabbing the scale as gently as he could before transferring it to the container. 

“M’telling you, Bud, that thing out there saved my life,” he spoke, his voice still a little raspy and raw. “I don’t know what it is but it wasn’t a normal fish. And I’m gonna figure out what the hell it is.” 

With all due respect, Buddy looked at his owner like he was insane but Oscar didn’t seem to notice. 

…

“I need you to look at something for me.” 

Logan let out a high-pitched scream, his body reacting quicker than he could keep up with and causing him to fall out of his seat before he noticed Oscar standing there, a frown on his lips. The blond let out a curse, his hand pressed against his chest as he let out a deep sigh of relief. 

“Fucking hell, dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Logan grumbled before pausing, scrambling to stand up and really focus on Oscar this time. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should be resting!” 

Oscar blinked. “I’m fine.” 

“You almost drowned,” Logan said slowly, like he was explaining the point to a child.

“Yes, Logan, I’m aware,” Oscar deadpanned. “I was there, believe it or not.”

“I—” Logan let out a deep breath. “You’re insane. Like actually insane. I think you lost too many brain cells because you shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone at work—”

“I’m not here to work,” Oscar corrected before flashing his friend a grin. “I came here because I need your weird fish encyclopaedic knowledge.” 

Logan stared at him. “Be honest with me, did your board hit your head?” 

“Shut up,” Oscar rolled his eyes before gesturing to the jar he slammed on the table before Logan fell off his seat. “Look.” 

Logan frowned a little, picking up the jar and peeking inside. “I know you work with dolphins but I’d at least hope you know that’s a fish scale.”

Oscar shot him a look. “I know it’s a fish scale but I need to know which fish it belongs to.”

Logan blinked. “You think I’d be able to take one look at this random scale and tell you which fish it belonged to?” 

“I mean,” Oscar shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.” 

“You’ve been hanging around the dolphins far too much,” Logan murmured. 

“Listen, whichever fish that scale belongs to saved my life,” Oscar started. 

Logan stared at him like he had grown a second head. “A fish saved you from drowning?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you are sure you didn’t hit your head?” 

“Oh my god,” Oscar huffed. “Look, I know what I saw. It had a huge orange tail but it also had…like…skin and hair.” 

“Very commonly found in marine animals,” Logan deadpanned. 

“I’m serious,” Oscar said, his lips turned downwards. “And think, if it is a new kind of fish and you help me discover it—” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Logan muttered, waving him off. “For the record, I still think you’re going insane but I’m your friend so I’ll help you out.” 

Oscar grinned. “I knew you’d help.” 

“You owe me lunch though,” Logan added. “I dropped my burrito when you scared me.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Fine, deal.” 

…

THE INVESTIGATION

Despite his concern, Oscar managed to convince Sebastian to let him come back to work the next day (after saying he would be bored out of his mind at home) with the condition that Buddy be allowed to join him at work considering the dog had downright refused to leave his side since the accident. 

George and Alex had been awkward at the front. They had been less than subtle at their surprise that he had come into work so soon, and in turn, had been dreadfully unprepared in the etiquette of how to talk to your coworker friend who had almost drowned and died less than twenty-four hours earlier. 

Lando had been no better, downright asking him if he met God in the few minutes he lacked oxygen under water before being washed back out to shore. He hadn’t understood why Oscar—and even Buddy—had stared at him blankly.

Charles had been a little more sympathetic, though oddly protective of the boy. He had been a little fussy at Oscar coming in so early, insisting that he would make sure the boy had proper breaks and meals, even if he had to talk to Sebastian himself. Max had rolled his eyes at the other boy’s antics but clapped Oscar on the back and said he was happy he was alive. 

Even Logan had been cautious around the boy. Despite his agreement to help search for the fish that saved him, he still constantly looked at Oscar like he had downright lost his mind. And maybe he had. 

The only person who seemed to be acting remotely normal towards him was you, or at least it felt that way. 

“You know, Rufus really missed you yesterday.” 

Oscar raised his brows as he walked down the pier towards where you stood, two buckets of fish in each hand. “I think we must be talking about different Rufuses.” 

You rolled your eyes, though it seemed quite fond as you patted the spot next to you as you sat on the edge of the dock. “He likes you. He just also likes teasing you.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, he is a little prince around you,” Oscar commented, smiling softly when Buddy rushed towards your side, nuzzling you fondly. 

“There’s my favourite dog,” you cooed, taking Buddy’s face in your hands and pressing a smacking kiss on the top of his head. “Such a handsome boy.” 

Oscar chose to ignore the fact he was feeling oddly jealous of his dog of all people. 

“You’re just a dolphin whisperer,” Oscar said eventually, looking out at the two rescue dolphins that were currently chasing each other with a red ball between them. “I don’t get how you do it.” 

You shrugged, but your smile was mischievous. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.” 

Oscar snorted in response. It would have been embarrassing if it didn’t make your smile widen. 

A few moments of comfortable silence passed between the two of you with Oscar watching the dolphins and your attention on the needy dog now half-sprawled across your lap. You waited a few moments before you found the confidence to speak up again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers tangled in Buddy’s fur as the dog sighed happily. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to answer that but if you want to talk about it—”

“I’m okay,” he answered with a kind smile. “It was…weird.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Weird is an understatement.” 

But Oscar just shrugged his shoulders. “I was lucky, that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.” 

You nodded but you didn’t say anything in response. You didn’t get the chance as Logan came barrelling down the dock, a huge grin spread across his face and a bunch of scuba equipment in his arms.

“Dude, you won’t believe what Seb let me borrow!” 

Oscar’s eyes widened as he quickly scrambled up, shooting Logan a look that he didn’t seem to understand. 

“Don’t worry,” Logan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell him about your mission to find—” 

But Oscar reached over to smack his hand over Logan’s mouth before the boy could continue, laughing awkwardly as he looked over his shoulder at you. “He doesn't know what he’s talking about!”

You glanced between the boys, eyeing the scuba equipment curiously. “Hiding some top secret mission from me?” 

“No, of course not!” Oscar quickly blurted out. “It’s just…something stupid.” 

You raised your brows. “And requires state of the art diving equipment?” 

Oscar just laughed nervously.

Logan finally managed to push Oscar’s hand away, something mischievous and cunning shining in his eyes as he glanced at Oscar before looking at you. “You know, we have spare equipment. You could totally join us tomorrow—”

But before Oscar could intervene, you were already responding. 

“Oh no, I can't swim.” 

Logan blinked. “What?” 

“I, uh, mean,” you laughed, awkward and stilted as you quickly stood up, almost tripping on Buddy as you did so. “I swim. I can swim. Just not well.” 

Logan nodded slowly. “Well, Oscar could always teach you—” 

“No, no, don’t let me hold you back,” you insisted before clearing your throat. “God, would you look at that! I should go get some more fish. Bye, guys!” 

Neither boy got a chance to say much before you were running down the dock, heading towards the main building. Logan watched you for a moment before looking down at the two full buckets of fish by his feet. 

“Well, that wasn’t weird at all,” he deadpanned.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.” 

Logan gave him a weird look. “Dude, she’s literally lying. It’s a part of the entry requirements to be able to swim and be fully lifeguard trained.” 

“Well, maybe you made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to lie,” Oscar retorted.

Logan rolled his eyes. “A man in love is a blind man.” 

Oscar shook his head. “Pipe down, Shakespeare, and show me what Seb gave you.” 

…

As it would turn out, aimlessly diving around the area Oscar almost drowned was a useless and fruitless endeavour. 

Who would have thought?

Logan, clearly, considering the boy had been insisting as much since the two of them waddled back into Oscar’s cabin, their wetsuits drying out on the balcony and the heavy weight of exhaustion on their shoulders after the hours of searching was something that was not there. 

“Maybe it needs a purpose to show itself,” Logan suggested as he slumped down on the couch, happily letting Buddy jump up and join him. “Maybe you need to almost die again.” 

Oscar shot him a look.

“Right. Too soon. Sorry.” 

“No, I—” Oscar paused, shaking his head and letting it drop. He was too tired to deal with it anyways. “That is not a theory we are going to test.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” Logan shrugged, settled against the soft throw pillows Oscar’s mother had insisted he needed to buy to make his place seem a bit homier. “What’s your plan anyways?” 

Oscar frowned a little in confusion. “For what?” 

“When you find this fish,” Logan stated. “Like, what are you gonna do? Say thank you and move on with your life?” 

“Well, no, I—” he paused for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s a weird fish.” 

“And diving the depths of the ocean will get us nowhere except having a very boring hobby for the next fifty years,” Logan deadpanned. “Describe the fish again. Maybe we can note down some main features and do some research. There’s probably something on the internet.” 

“I don’t know,” Oscar shrugged, turning his attention back to whatever scraps were left in his fridge that he could somehow make a meal from. “I have never seen a fish like this.” 

“Because you know every fish ever to exist.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“C’mon, just try,” Logan whined as he reached for his phone, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ when he had to manoeuvre Buddy on his lap before he pulled up a new tab. “We have orange scales, big, skin and hair-like features—”

“It was skin and hair.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Logan murmured as he continued to add a few more details Oscar had told him before hitting search. He waited a few moments, looking through the top searches before he let out a loud snort. “Okay, maybe you were right. Maybe googling is useless.” 

“Why? What does it say?” Oscar asked, reaching for the jar of pasta sauce that seemed to be shoved towards the back of his cupboard. For the sake of his rumbling stomach, he decided not to linger on how long it had been back there for.

“It says you’re looking for a mermaid,” Logan snorted, his amusement clear in his voice. “I mean, come on! Like any sucker would believe that.” 

However, when he turned his head to see if Oscar was laughing along with him, he found the boy staring back with a contemplative look on his face.

“No,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back against the pillows. “No, Oscar, we are not—” 

“It might be,” Oscar argued back.

“You need to get your head checked,” Logan grumbled.

“Just find as many reliable sources on mermaids as you can whilst I make lunch,” Oscar retorted, waving him off as the American let out a squawk of protest.

“He’s gone insane. My best friend has gone insane.” 

“I can hear you.”

“Good!” 

…

“I can’t believe these words are about to leave my mouth—” 

“You don’t need to say that everytime.” 

“But how do we know we are dealing with a mermaid and not a siren?” Logan questioned as the two of them sat on the dock by the dolphins, sandwiches in hand as they enjoyed their lunch break whilst entertaining Rufus and Gizmo with the new toys Sebastian had ordered.

“Because it would have killed me if it was a siren,” Oscar responded matter-of-factly. “If it was a siren, they probably would have eaten me.” 

“Should we really be saying it? Wouldn’t it be a she?” Logan asked, but before he could even wait for an answer, he was continuing. “And how do we know she speaks English? Like, she could speak some ocean language. Maybe you need to start speaking fish so you can thank her if we find her.”

Oscar blinked. “Speaking fish? Really?” 

“What? I am just making assumptions here,” Logan murmured. “It’s not like there’s a lot of accurate and reliable sources for mermaid logistics and habits.”

“Well, she is also probably a human living in this town,” Oscar pointed out. “So, I think my chances of her speaking English or any other human language is high.”

“So you think,” Logan muttered under his breath.

Oscar glanced down when he felt a nudge against his foot, smiling when he felt Rufus nudge him. “I wonder if she can speak to fish.” 

“Hm?”

“Like, imagine how cool it would be to be able to talk to different sea animals,” Oscar commented as he leaned down, his smile widening when the dolphin lifted his head up to meet Oscar’s hand.

“Well, your girlfriend is the dolphin whisperer,” Logan teased, nudging the other boy’s side with his elbow. “She could maybe teach you something, help you practise your fish language before you find your knight in scaly armour.” 

Oscar could feel his cheeks burn. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“But you wish she was,” Logan sang. 

“Plus, some people just have a special knack with animals,” Oscar shrugged, watching as Rufus continued to nudge his foot to gain his attention. “She’s one of them.” 

“A shame she can’t swim with them,” Logan muttered.

“Oh my god, get off her back with that,” Oscar groaned. 

“I am just saying—” 

“Stop saying it.” 

“—it’s a little weird that—”

“You’re a little weird.”

“—she was so dodgy about her swimming and then ran off—”

“You are reading far too much into it.” 

“—like she’s hiding something!” Logan exclaimed. 

“Who’s hiding something?” 

Both boys let out a scream, whipping their heads to find you standing a few feet away, looking far too amused at the expressions on their faces. You raised your brows, glancing between them and watching the way they both floundered for a response. 

“Were you talking about little old me?” You asked, a dramatic gasp following as you placed your hand over your heart. 

Oscar’s eyes widened. “No, we just—”

But before he could even come up with a half-assed, lame excuse to try and sell, a large splash of water hit the three of you. The water was cold and a shock to the system and the almost mocking laugh of Rufus as he swam away was the cherry on top. 

Oscar glanced down at the soggy sandwich in his hand before shifting his attention to you, noticing the way your eyes widened in panic. 

“Hey, you look a bit pale,” Oscar started but you were already starting to walk backwards. 

“I have to go!” You blurted out before turning on your heel and sprinting down the pier. 

“Wait!” Oscar frowned, ignoring the odd look Logan was giving him as he began to chase after you, watching you make a beeline towards the main building. 

He could feel his legs burning as he tried to catch up, as he chased you through the windy footpaths of the park, only to find himself at the main building with the door still locked and you nowhere in sight. 

He called out your name, his teeth starting to chatter a little as the water seeped into his clothes and hung heavy on his frame. 

But you were nowhere to be seen. 

…

“Do you think there is a way to find the human version of the mermaid?” 

Oscar barely lifted his head up from his phone, glancing down at the series of unread messages he had sent to you over the course of the last few days. Sebastian had said you called in sick, saying you needed a few days to recover from your cold without giving it to anyone. 

But Oscar wasn’t buying it.

“Because maybe we just need to look for the very obvious clues.”

Of course, there was the potential option that you really were sick. It was quite chilly the other day and Oscar’s mother always did say that wet clothes and chilly weather were never a good combination. It was why his first message was staged as a simple wish for you to get better, seeing if you would reply to him. 

You didn’t. 

“You know, like people well affiliated with fish. And maybe avoid water. And maybe have a suspicious background we don’t know about.” 

The following messages had been sent by accident. His thumb had been hovering over the second message when Buddy bumped into him and made his thumb hit the screen. And then, with the embarrassment already settled, he found himself sending a few more to follow up. 

But still, he hadn’t heard a single word from you. Nobody had. 

“It does make me wonder if your kids would come out as mermaids or fully human though.” 

Oscar blinked, head snapping up to stare at Logan with a bewildered look. “What?!” 

Logan huffed. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” 

“No, clearly not. Though, if you’re talking about how mermaids reproduce then I’m glad I zoned out,” Oscar deadpanned. 

“You should have a lot more interest considering your girlfriend is a mermaid,” Logan retorted. 

Oscar blinked. “Come again?” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the signs?” Logan prompted. 

Oscar shot him a look. “I don’t see the signs.” 

“God, love really is blind,” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “The signs are right in front of you, dude. She’s the one you’re looking for. Maybe. Potentially. It’s mostly a hunch.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Oscar scoffed. “I know her. I know her better than you. And I know that isn’t her.” 

“In denial your girlfriend is a fish?” Logan teased, nudging his foot against Oscar’s shin only to let out a wince when Oscar kicked him back. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m not in denial about anything!” 

“Who’s not in denial about anything?” 

Oscar’s head snapped around, his cheeks burning when he found Charles and Max standing at the door of the staff room, looking between the two younger boys with a questioning but amused look in their eyes. 

“Nothing!” Oscar flashed them a strained smile. “Truly nothing. We are talking about absolutely nothing.” 

Max raised his brows. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” 

“Well—“ Oscar laughed, another half-assed lie ready to leave his lips but Logan bet him to it. 

“Oscar is just in denial about his lady fish!” Logan blinked, realising what he’s been saying. “I mean his friend who’s a fish! I mean, his lady friend who likes fish. She isn’t a fish. No one is a fish but fish!” 

Oscar shot him a look. 

“You know?” Logan laughed awkwardly. 

To his credit, Max looked positively delighted like their misery was great for his amusement. But Charles looked downright concerned, looking at Oscar with a solemn look as he walked around the table. He placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. 

“We will fight your fish fetish together,” he said in a completely serious voice. 

Logan choked. 

Oscar blanched. “I do not have a fish fetish!” 

“It’s fine, accepting it is the first step and we will get there together, yes?” Charles said with a kind smile. “You’re not alone, Oscar.” 

“I’m not there at all,” he retorted. 

“You have a support system here, Oscar,” Charles said. “We are your family too.”

Oscar groaned, his head slumping down to rest on the table. “Logan, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Logan is your friend and he just wants to help,” Charles continued, patting the boy on the back like he was trying to comfort him. 

It was safe to say he wasn’t focused on your lack of response to his messages after that. 

…

THE REVEAL 

It was actually totally by chance that it happened that morning.  

Just before his shift ended the day before, Sebastian had managed to catch him on his way out, ranting away about storms and stocking up and eventually ending his ramble by asking Oscar to come in early for his shift tomorrow to help deal with the morning feeds in case they have to shut down the park for the storm. 

He had agreed, assuring the older man he would be at the park before the sun had risen before he left. 

The next morning, he had been cursing his past self as he dragged himself out of bed and forwent his usual morning swim for a quick walk with Buddy before cycling towards the park. 

He was barely awake as he sauntered towards the staff room, putting his things away and just barely noticing your locker was already full before he made his way out towards the dolphins where he assumed you would’ve started. 

After all, Sebastian never said you two couldn’t work through the breakfast shift together. 

Oscar still felt a bit half asleep and bleary when he saw you at the bottom of the pier, talking away to Rufus and Gizmo. It made him smile, listening to whatever you were saying without even really processing it. 

In fact, it was because he was so entranced that he almost missed it at first. 

“Okay, one more but then you’ve gotta have your breakfast,” you sighed, shaking your head fondly at the two dolphins before lifting your hand. 

It took a second for Oscar to even realise there was a massive ball of water floating in front of you. It took a few more seconds to realise it turned to ice seconds later. And he was already rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself by the time you threw it into the water, letting the dolphins chase after it. 

He stood at the bottom of the dock, mouth agape and heart thundering in his chest that he missed whatever you said to the squeaking dolphin before you dove head first into the water. 

His body kicked into action by that point as he sprinted down the pier, yelling out your name and already trying to shrug off his coat so he could dive in after you, only to pause when he saw something in the water. 

Not something—you. 

It felt like deja vu as he stared at you under the water’s surface, stuck between confusion and awe. It was still dark but somehow the scales of your tail still glimmered in the water, dancing and shining and downright mesmerising. It was orange and gold and yellow and just breath-taking to see when he wasn’t losing oxygen. He watched your hair flow behind you as you swam effortlessly beside the dolphins like you belonged, like you were meant to be in the water. 

It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. 

He had barely picked his jaw up off the floor by the time you rose to the surface again, your eyes widening as you saw him kneeling on the pier staring out at you. 

You gulped a little. “Oscar, it’s not what it seems—”

“It’s you,” he interrupted, though his voice was soft and awestruck. “You’re the mermaid. You’re the one that saved me.” 

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t been an idiot surfing when it wasn’t safe,” you retorted, almost defensive as you squirmed under his watchful gaze. 

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are so—”

“Scary?” You supplied. 

“Beautiful,” Oscar corrected with a small frown. 

“Oh,” was all you managed to say. 

His eyes drifted down once again, his eyes lingering on your tail and the way it swayed gently to keep you above the surface. It was long, much longer than he realised the last time he saw you. But it was there and it was real and it belonged to you and— 

It was overwhelming. 

And it was also deeply annoying that Logan was right. 

Oscar opened his mouth. “I have so many questions I want—”

“I’m sure you do and I will answer them but,” you flashed him a sheepish smile, though the defensive tone in your voice was still there. “Not now. Later. Promise.”

Oscar nodded, a little dumbly. “Come back to mine after work?” 

You nodded back, your smile a little strained. “Yeah, of course.” 

…

“Would you like some tea?” 

The wind howling and the rain pattering against the window from the storm managed to break some of the awkward silence as you sat in Oscar’s living room, picking at the skin around your nails and avoiding eye contact with him completely. 

“Uh yeah,” you nodded. “Tea would be nice.” 

Oscar nodded before shuffling towards the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and putting the kettle on before he glanced over his shoulder to peek out at you. 

He smiled a bit as he watched Buddy trot towards you, letting out a whine and knocking your hands away from each other and instead placed his head on your lap until you started scratching behind his ears instead. 

“He’s a bit of a clinger,” Oscar warned as he wandered back into the room, two cups of tea in his hands as he placed both on the coffee table before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “If you give him too much attention, he will never let you leave.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” 

“You’ll think twice when he starts chewing your shoes because he wants to go out in the morning,” Oscar retorted. 

You let out a soft laugh in response. 

He watched you for a few moments as you cooed at the dog in front of you. You had told him you’d make your way to his house, considering Oscar’s shift ended half an hour earlier than yours and he had only driven a bicycle into work. 

He had tried to be really casual and nonchalant about the whole thing, pretending like his mind wasn’t spinning all day since he saw you in the water. It got a lot worse when he got home, practically pacing the cabin and wearing a hole into the carpet as he kept glancing at the clock—so often that even Buddy started whining about it. 

And then, just minutes before the rain started, you were knocking on his door and walking into his house and—

He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He wondered if he was meant to be the one to drop it. 

“So, a mermaid, huh?” 

And maybe it was the shitty icebreaker or maybe it was the nerves catching up with you, but you couldn’t help but snort. 

“Really?” You teased, finally looking at him with something that felt oddly close to fondness. “That’s what you start with?” 

“I panicked,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “And…I don’t know how much you want to share.” 

“Most people would be demanding answers,” you told him, your voice a little defensive like you expected him to be the same. 

“I’m not most people,” he responded before pausing. “Wait, other people know?” 

“Well, no,” you confessed before shrugging. “I just assume people would demand answers. I sure as hell did.” 

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “You haven’t been a mermaid your whole life?”

“Since I was sixteen,” you told him, shaking your head. “It’s a long story. Full moons, sea caves and a very confusing attempt at a shower the next day.” 

His lips twitched upwards. “And you’ve hidden it this long?” 

You nodded. 

“That must be exhausting,” he murmured, his chest tightening a little at the idea that you had been carrying this secret alone for years. 

“I’m used to it by now,” you answered honestly with a shrug. “Plus, technically speaking, other people don’t know but other creatures do.” 

Oscar blinked. “You can actually speak fish?” 

You shot him an odd look. “Well, it’s not really a universal language amongst all fish but I can communicate with them.” 

“And control water,” Oscar blurted out, remembering what he saw that morning. 

You smiled softly. “Being a mermaid has its perks.” 

“The park is a risky place to work,” Oscar commented with a frown. “Aren’t you scared of constantly being exposed?”

“Like the other day?” You huffed, shaking your head. “I’m usually quite safe and I’m careful. Rufus was just being a dick.” 

“He…knows?” Oscar said slowly, like his brain was still catching up with the fact you could speak to marine animals. 

“He’s very demanding during our morning swims,” you admitted with a soft smile. “He also has very strong opinions and can be quite pushy with them.” 

Oscar raised his brows. “And what was he getting pushy with this time?” 

You fell silent, your attention quickly falling back to Buddy. 

He frowned a little. “I won’t judge, whatever it is. Unless it’s like a mermaid-slash-fish insider thing I wouldn’t understand, then I totally get it but—”

“It’s whatever,” you quickly interrupted, your smile seeming a little more put on and strained. “It’s not true, anyways.” 

Oscar’s frown deepened but he didn’t say anything as he nodded. It was only in the moments of silence that he realised how heavy the rain had gotten, with the drops sounding like harsh patters against his window. 

“Fuck,” you murmured with a frown. “It’s going to be impossible to get home.” 

“Home as in…a house or a sea cave or…?” Oscar started to trail off, having the decency to look a little embarrassed when you shot him a look. 

“I have a place on land,” you confirmed, though he could hear the amusement in your voice. “Although considering the fact I have seconds before I change, I won’t even be able to make it out your front door before I grow a tail.” 

“You can stay here,” he blurted out before he could second guess himself. “If you want to. I don’t mind. Neither does Buddy.” 

As if on cue, Buddy let out a soft bark of agreement as he nuzzled his head against your lap. 

You looked at him. “Are you sure? Because I—”

“I’m sure,” Oscar confirmed with a nod. “You can take the bed, I don’t mind taking the couch. Although, you may have to deal with Buddy trying to cuddle with you.” 

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oscar, I can’t kick you off your own bed.” 

“I don’t mind,” he repeated with a shrug. “Plus, the couch can be tricky to get comfy on if you don’t know the exact way to sleep and I’m used to—”

“I’m not letting you sleep on this couch,” you said, pausing for a moment before sheepishly smiling. “No offence.” 

His lips twitched. “None taken.” 

“We can—” You paused again before straightening up in your seat. “We can share the bed. It’s just one night, no?” 

Oscar blinked. 

“Friends can share beds, right?” You added, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar blurted out. “Yeah, totally. Absolutely. We can so do that. No problem at all.” 

He was fucked. 

…

All things considered, Oscar thought he was doing pretty well until the two of you actually had to fall asleep. 

He gave you some spare clothes to borrow and took the gentleman’s route of letting you use the bathroom first. He let you choose your side of the bed and borrowed some of the throw pillows from the living room to act as a barrier to make you a little more comfortable. He had even made sure Buddy was squished on his side of the bed so he wouldn’t disturb you. 

But then, the silence settled between you both after he had turned the lights off and climbed into bed and not even the pattering rain could ease the suffocating tension. 

“Logan knows,” Oscar blurted out. 

You blinked, turning your head as though you could see him in the dark. “What?!” There was a pause. “You told him?” 

“What? No!” Oscar quickly corrected. “No, of course not. He guessed it. Kinda. He was, like, forty-seven percent sure you were a mermaid.” 

You frowned. “And the other fifty-three percent?” 

“That,” Oscar snorted a little. “Was him being confident that mermaids didn’t exist at all and I hit my head during the accident.”

“You almost did,” you confessed. 

Oscar swallowed before turning his head to look in the direction of where you were lying. “Thank you,” he whispered in a softer voice. “For saving me. You really did save my life and you didn’t have to.” 

There was a small pause before Oscar felt you reach over the wall of pillows to take his hand. “I would’ve never left you hanging, Osc. You’re my friend.” 

He squeezed your hand a little. “Right, friend. Of course.”

Another moment of silence passed between you two. 

“You know I would never tell anyone your secret, right?” Oscar whispered, something about the moment feeling soft and quiet. “Even with Logan. I’ll throw him off your tail, stop him from bothering you.” 

A laugh slipped out. “Off my tail?” 

His cheeks burned but he smiled. “The pun was unintentional.” 

You hummed before responding. “You’d actually do that?” 

“Of course,” Oscar confirmed, genuine and sincere. “You’re my friend.” 

“Right, friend. Of course,” you repeated when nothing else came to mind. 

And once again, the silence settled between you but it was thick and suffocating and desperate to be cut and—

“Rufus wanted me to be honest with you,” you blurted out, squeezing his hand a little like it was the small sign of comfort you needed. “That’s what he’s been bugging me about. Gizmo too, actually.” 

Oscar frowned a little. “About telling me you’re a mermaid?” 

“No. Yes. Kinda.” You took a deep breath. “They wanted me to be honest with how I feel.” 

“I didn’t realise they were licensed therapists,” Oscar commented.

Your lips twitched. “They are delusional like that.” 

“Whatever you wanna say, m’not gonna judge you,” Oscar murmured, squeezing your hand to solidify his point. 

“I like you,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, I like you too,” Oscar replied casually. “And nothing you say can freak me out. I promise.” 

“No, Oscar, I like you. Like like.” 

“Oh.” 

“Fuck, sorry,” you swore under your breath as you moved to pull your hand away. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position—”

“No, I just—” Oscar let out a huff. “Wait a second.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you listened to him shuffling around on his side of the bed. It took a few seconds before you realised what he was doing, throwing the pillow wall on the floor and reaching for the lamp on his bedside table before he turned to you. 

“Better,” he murmured before reaching for your hand again. “You mean it? You like me?” 

“Are you really gonna make me say it again?” You winced a little. 

“I mean, it would help me redeem my response beyond a pathetic ‘oh’,” Oscar confessed, his cheeks flushing pink as he bit back a smile. 

You watched his expression closely. “And what would your response be this time?”

He swallowed harshly, gaining what little confidence he had left in himself before he chickened out and second-guessed himself. “I would say I have been pretty much in love with you since the day you accidentally trapped me in that huge fishing net and had to cut me out with a shitty pair of craft scissors.” 

Your brows furrowed together. “But that was our second day working together—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Oscar repeated with a grin. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes, squeezing your hand as we spoke. “I like like you too.” 

“Even if I’m half fish?” You asked, watching as Oscar’s expression grew adoring. 

“Even if you told me I had to live on a dinghy for the rest of my life to be with you,” Oscar confessed. 

“That,” you paused as you laughed a little. “That might be one of the weirdest but most romantic things someone has ever said to me.” 

“You should see me flirting after a few drinks,” he deadpanned, not bothering to hide his smile as you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Just kiss me, Piastri,” you murmured.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded before slipping his free hand to cup your face before leaning down to kiss you.

You let out a happy sigh, pulling your hand free so you could wrap both arms around his neck and tug him closer. Oscar rolled closer, keeping his weight off you as he deepened the kiss and smiled a little at the satisfied noise you let out. 

It was soft and sweet and adoring and made your whole body feel like it was on cloud nine by the time he pulled away, strands of hair falling in his eyes and a gentle expression pained across his face.

“We should probably sleep,” Oscar murmured.

“Yeah, we probably should,” you nodded in agreement.

“Glad you agree,” he hummed.

“Totally,” you responded.

Neither one of you could bite back your smiles as you leaned in for another kiss. 

…

THE AFTERMATH 

“This is cheating.” 

“How is it cheating?” 

“Okay, maybe it isn’t cheating but it is unfair.” 

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement as you lightly flicked your tail to splash the boy sitting on his surfboard. He let out a small noise of annoyance but he was still smiling, looking down at the seashell in his hand with utter love and adoration. 

“My gift seems lame in comparison now,” Oscar grumbled as his thumb smoothed over the ridges of the shell. 

“That’s a bit dramatic,” you retorted, leaning on your crossed arms as you leaned on the edge of his board. 

“Yeah, well, I bought your gift and you literally dived to the depths of the ocean for mine,” he replied but he still held the shell with a great sense of protectiveness, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, babe. I love it.” 

“Thought it would look cute for your collection,” you grinned back, sighing happily at the ease and relaxation written across his face. It had been an intense few weeks at work and this was the first mutual day off the two of you had. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing Oscar so laid back and stress-free. 

“It’ll be the best one in my collection,” he grinned, staring down at the shell for another few seconds before reaching for the small zipped pocket in his wetsuit. “Okay, close your eyes.” 

You rolled your eyes but did as you were told, holding your hands out as you listened to the sound of the zip. You waited a few moments before you felt cold metal hit your palm and tried to bite back your smile.

“I know the mermaid magic has a whole mind of its own but I thought maybe this would be one thing you can wear both on land and in the water,” Oscar confessed, and you could hear the hint of nerves in his voice. “Something from me, so I can be there with you when you are deep in the ocean getting me cool shells.” 

You snorted a little, but the amusement was quickly replaced by awe and surprise once you opened your eyes and spotted the silver locket in your palm. Your thumb traced over the necklace, smiling a little when you noticed the gem was the same shade of blue as his favourite board—the same one he was currently sitting on—and Buddy’s eyes.

“Oscar,” you whispered when no other words seemed to leave your lips. 

“Open it,” he prompted. 

You gently clicked the locket open, your smile widening when you noticed a picture tucked into the frame. Staring back at you was one of your favourite photos of you, Oscar and Buddy on the beach that a passing local had taken for the three of you when you were out one morning for Buddy’s morning walk. It had been one of your and Oscar’s favourite photos, considering it was currently framed and sitting on his bedside table and another print tucked into his locker at work. 

You looked up at him, your chest feeling so warm and tight and full with all the love you had for the boy. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Perfect for you then,” he murmured with a grin before nodding his head. “Turn around, let me put it on for you.” 

You listened easily, moving your hair over your shoulder as the boy reached around to place the necklace on before clasping it together. Your fingertips brushed over the locket as you glanced down at it before turning to look at him. He was already staring back at you, his expression soft and fond and so full of love that it almost made you wonder how it took you so long to confess your feelings when he had been staring at you like that long before you started dating.

“I love you,” you murmured, your heart warming at the sight of his cheeks blushing at the same three words you have said countless times to the boy.

“I love you too,” he replied easily before leaning down to kiss you. “Happy one year anniversary, baby.” 

“Happy one year, Osc.” 

,

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[bomber-grl]

Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

-

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

[cordeliawhohung]

Touch Me 'Till I Vomit (pet!au) [5]

pet!au part 5 | ghoap x fem!reader

bath time, Bonnie

cw: overall theme of non-con, dark content, mean!simon

btw if y'all are needing someone to help proofread your stuff, @jackactuallywrites has got some great services to check out (:

Johnny lets you sleep after he’s had his fun with you. 

It’s odd how easy it comes. Your throat feels battered and bruised, and your head pounds from overexertion and dehydration with such pain that you never thought you’d get any rest. You swore you’d only be able to rest once you were dead, and yet you’re out before you even realize it. Exhaustion clings to you with unwavering nails despite it all, and grants you proper rest sometime after Johnny forced you to drink a glass of water. Well, as proper of a rest as one can get in your situation. 

Terrors plague you even with your eyes closed. You see a twisted fate before you, damned to relive the horrors already forced upon you, as well as those you're certain are soon to come. Just like you tried in real life, you rage against the unfairness of it all. Against the greedy hands and wet tongue. Against the blade on your skin and the fingers around your throat. And just like in real life, you fail. Even in dreams, you cannot escape the strange beast that calls himself Simon, nor his loyal pet.

When you finally wake and you're brutally forced back into consciousness, you are immediately aware of the hand resting on your head. It's heavy and firm as thick fingers gently glide along your skull. It almost feels comforting. The most comforted you have been since you were brought to that wretched place. You quickly realize that it's only a wolf in sheep's clothing when your eyes flutter open and you're met with Johnny's innocent grin. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers.

One would assume he was being sweet for whispering such a compliment to you, but you know very well that he is not. The way his cock abused your throat — and nearly your cunt — was far from kind, yet the lilt of his voice and the softness of his fingers as they wander to your cheek attempt to trick you. 

You say nothing in response to him as you continue to lay there, motionless. It feels wrong to accept a compliment from a dog such as him, but he doesn’t seem to mind your silence. All Johnny is focused on is the lines of your face and the softness of your skin as he continues to caress you. He’s a different person than he was earlier. Softer, almost seeming to care. It nearly lulls you into a false sense of security until you hear water running somewhere in the house. 

Your ears perk up at the sound, and you’re suddenly aware of everything. Not just the dull ache that permeates every cell in your body, but the lack of clothing on your legs, your still sticky and exposed thighs, and the booming footsteps that approach from the hallway. A heavy alarum rattles your senses, and you’re hit with that urge to run and fight again. 

“It’s alright, Bonnie. It’s just Simon,” Johnny says, trying to soothe you. 

It’s just Simon. He says it like you shouldn’t be afraid. As if he’s not the man who drugged you at work and brought you home to be used like a chew toy. There’s no time for you to correct him or voice your distaste before that lumbering beast is standing at the end of the bed. You want to close your eyes and pretend he isn’t there, but his presence is all consuming, and it’s not any easier to ignore when Johnny turns his attention to him with a grin. 

“Did you play nice?” Simon asks. 

“I did, I did what you told me, I promise,” Johnny says earnestly. 

The bed shakes as he shifts positions. He’s no longer laying beside you, and instead has crawled to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees like a dog. You watch with blank eyes as Johnny’s hands rest on Simon’s chest, a pitiful display of submission. Simon stares down at him for a moment before a hand reaches for his throat before giving his collar a small tug. 

“Good boy,” Simon praises. 

All it takes is another tug to get Johnny’s lips onto Simon’s, and you continue to lay there while they embrace one another. It feels wrong watching them like that. Simon shouldn’t be capable of such tenderness, and still the muffled sound of their lips separating with a sharp smack rings clear. You fear that he expects the same sort of greeting from you when he pulls away from Johnny and turns his attention to you, but you very quickly realize by the darkness in his eyes that is not the case at all. 

“C’mon, pet. Bath time.” 

There’s a deep shame that’s been plaguing you since the moment you first woke up that morning, and it only festers when you realize there’s no easy way out of this — of any of this. Simon is very patient with you as you slowly move your beaten body out of bed, and Johnny looks at you as if he’s watching a bird attempt to fly for the first time. Your teeth creak in your mouth as you try and hide your exposed body as best as you can, but Simon doesn’t at all seem interested in you being a prude. 

“This way,” he orders. 

Your feet slide along the wood floor as you follow behind him like a wounded animal. Much to your surprise, Johnny stays behind back in the bedroom, almost as if he suddenly cares about your privacy despite the fact he ravaged you for hours on end not too long ago. It doesn’t matter. Cut one head off, and two more replace it, and Simon — this freak of a man — has the strength of two jaws in one being. 

It isn’t until you reach the bathroom that you realize just how antiquated the house is. A beautiful porcelain tub, complete with a brass faucet, sits towards the back of the room, and though there are modern modifications and updates made with the toilet and sink, it very much still has that old charm to it. Everything is well taken care of, and completely spotless, but it still doesn’t do much to ease your mind about what’s about to happen to you. 

“Shirt off. Hurry up,” Simon prompts. 

Your shirt is the last piece of clothing protecting whatever dignity you have left, and you hate how easy it is for you to slip it up over your torso. Every other part of you has already been seen and explored — this feels like nothing. You don’t even mourn it as you toss it onto the floor. 

A lump threatens to choke you as Simon’s hand rests against the midsection of your back, and you nearly cry out when he presses you towards the tub. Thin wisps of steam rise on the mirror-like surface of the water, and when he helps you in, it almost feels nice when it envelops you. Despite the muscle-melting warmth, you don’t feel any less tense. You’re out of your element, you’re fully aware of that, and you try to keep your teeth from chattering as you avoid his gaze. 

He doesn’t speak as he retrieves a handful of toiletries from the counter before kneeling next to you by the tub. There’s no ledge for him to place them on, but he seems happy keeping them on the floor as he grabs some body wash. You almost move your hands up, expecting him to hand it to you, but he doesn’t. 

You quickly realize that he means to wash you himself. 

Cold gel presses against you, and you close your eyes in a pitiful attempt to pretend you’re somewhere else. Simon’s hands are firm as he begins to wash the entire length of your body. Despite the soap, it feels like he’s only ruining you; like his touch burns every inch of skin he comes into contact with. You hear him huff when he scrapes off a bit of Johnny’s dried cum off of your stomach, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a laugh or not. 

“Johnny give you water today?” he suddenly asks. 

The swollen flesh of your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as you ponder his question. Johnny had nearly waterboarded you with his enthusiasm earlier, trying to give you enough water to drown an elephant. In a way, it was nice as it helped to soothe the drug induced migraine that had been plaguing you all day, and still… it reminded you that you are less than human now. 

You nod. 

“Can’t hear you,” he bites. His hand suddenly grows tense, firmly gripping your leg as he pauses his endeavor in washing you. 

“Yes!” you correct. “He did.” 

He hums in response as he continues to clean you, and though you hate to admit it, he doesn’t skimp. Legs, arms, torso, underarms — he’s scrubbing everywhere. With his bare hands, which is… less than ideal, but he’s not half-assing it. It’s enough to get you to let your guard down; not that your resolve was strong to begin with. Exhaustion festers heavily within you, and all you can do is sit there and wonder why the soap you’re being cleansed with smells so familiar. 

“Did he fuck you?” Simon then asks. 

Learning better from a moment ago, you verbally respond with, “No.” 

Simon’s hands pause for a short moment before fingers dig into your jaw. His grip is piercing and unforgiving, and it gives you no option but to look up at him as he contorts your neck backwards. The inside of your cheek digs into your teeth, and you feel your eyes begin to water with the sting. 

“Look at me. Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lyin,” he explains. “Did he fuck you?” 

Everything he said to Johnny that morning hits you like a tidal wave as he demands the truth you’ve already given to him. You vividly recall how he told Johnny not to have sex with you in fear that you might get pregnant. Worse, how he would have to get rid of you because of it. You remember how you begged Johnny not to fuck you as he nearly pressed his cock into you, how terrified you were to find out what getting rid of you meant. 

You can’t control the way your bottom lip begins to tremble, or how a single hot tear scorches your face. There’s a pitiful attempt to shake your head that’s halted by Simon’s iron-like grip, and another firm squeeze from him finally gets you to open your mouth. 

“He didn’t, he didn’t fuck me, I-I promise,” you babble. “H-He did other things, but not that, I swear!” 

Simon is impossible to read as he scans your face. Drinks in the way your body trembles and wets underneath his touch. He doesn’t say if he believes you or not, but he relinquishes his grip on your face before he stands.

“Good girl.” 

Simon dries you off with one of the largest towels you’ve ever seen once he’s finished cleaning you up. There’s no longer that layer of grime from sweat and cum that taints your body, but you know it’s going to take much more than plain water to wash away the shame that continues to haunt you. 

Once you’re fully dry, Simon faces you towards the mirror as he stands behind you. It’s the first time you’re able to see the marks Johnny’s left on you. Several angry, fat, and dark hickeys plague your chest and breasts, and there’s several light scratches on your hips. You’ve hardly been there a day and you’re already marked to hell, as if the man had been trying to stake a claim on you. 

You’re quick to learn that those silly marks are not the only claim you’ll have to bear. Quiet, metallic jingling sounds as Simon retrieves a collar out of his pocket. It’s simple, made of leather, and bears a single charm, just like Johnny’s. You try to stand as still as possible as he reaches around you and begins to fasten it around your throat — not hard enough to choke you, but firm enough to know that you shouldn’t take it off. 

You avoid his gaze in the mirror as he works, and you try to look anywhere else; the floor, the counter, your clothes—

Your clothes. 

A stark realization hits you as you notice the clothes on the counter. They’re folded with the utmost care, yet even through the creases you can make out that these are your clothes. The ones that had slowly been going missing in your closet throughout the last few weeks. And that scent on your skin? That body wash? It’s the same exact brand you’ve used for years. Wide eyes meet Simon once more in the mirror just as he finishes securing your latest accessory, and you swear you see him smirking.  Your abduction was not done on a whim. This monster had been planning to take you for a long, long time.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TWO

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, kidnapping, 141 are mean pirates, brief mentions of gore/death masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The time you spent in the brig was frigid and isolating. Despite it being summer, the cold gusts of the sea had crept in through the thin cracks of the wooden ship, rising goosebumps on your skin and sending shivers wracking through your body. You were in no attire to accommodate the chill, only dressed in your barest of summer garments, thin and dirtied from the poverty your village lived in.

Silence became your new friend, while also your enemy. As much as you were one to appreciate the quiet of the world, the waves crashing along the sides of the ship were far too loud, taunting you with a grim reminder that you were lost at sea with no home to return to.

Your home was burned down to ash, surely with no survivors, given the state of havoc you’d returned to when Ghost told you to fetch your things. Your home didn’t treat you kindly, but it was still the place you’d grown up in and planned on dying peacefully. Now, you were a prisoner to pirates, ones only told about in silly fairy tales.

The stories of pirates had scared you when you were a young child. The elders had grouped together all children on summer nights such as this one, feeding them useless fables of the dangerous men and women that ruled the seas. They were ruthless, showing no remorse for the ones they tormented, uncaring of the bloodshed they splattered along native lands of the innocent.

That’s all they were when you were a child. Stories. Only meant to keep the youth away from the seas as not to witness them fall in and succumb to a painful death of drowning.

Now, though, it was your cruel reality. A nightmare. The pirates from those tales had been plucked straight out of the book and planted right into your life, erupting it into living hell.

Nobody had come to check on you after Ghost left you locked up in the cell. It had been hours since, the only telltale sign being the peek of sunlight poking through the small brig window and illuminating the room enough to shower you in a faint glow. There was nothing but a cot in the cell, the lower deck bare of anything useful.

Your escape would be fruitless. You’d thought about squeezing through the tiny window, but even if you managed, where would that leave you? Captured in the waves of the sea until you’d sink to the bottom in exhaustion.

You had to play it smart. Staying awake for hours alone had left you with plenty of rapid thoughts, some irrational. The best thing you’d decided in the end was to play along, gain their trust, and fulfill your role. As much as a part of you wished you were dead, it would be betraying your village, betraying Mary.

They needed to be caught. These pirates needed to pay for their crimes.

Gain their trust. Get off of the ship. Inform the nearest guard station.

When daylight fully broke, the sound of a creaky door caught your attention. More sunlight poured through the open doorway from the top of the stairs, showcasing one of the pirates. This time, it wasn’t Ghost, but instead, the one who had tossed you over their shoulder like a weak sack of potatoes.

Gaz said nothing as he descended down the stairs. In his hand was a steaming bowl, swirling around him like an ominous mist. His eyes locked on to yours, hardened from years of thievery and slaughter. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in them, nor indication that he was anything besides a sailing machine designed to follow Captain’s orders.

You watched keenly as he approached your cell. He stood over you like a brewing storm cloud, shadowing you from the stretch of light behind him.

For a moment, the two of you sat there frozen. You, terrified and cautious. Him, off putting and brooding.

Breaking the tension, his free hand scrambled for the keys latched on to the loops on his trousers, inserting one of the keys into the lock. He paused, eyeing you as a warning not to pull a brainless move. When he was satisfied you wouldn’t dare, he tugged the cell door open before stepping inside.

“Here,” he muttered, crouching down to place the bowl of food in front of you. Upon further inspection, you realized it was porridge. Bland and colorless.

You had no appetite after the horrors you’d seen. The sight of food had your stomach twisting, filling with rotten bile that begged to escape you and paint the floor beneath you.

Brimming with rage and seethe, you did the first thing that came to mind. Your hands picked up the bowl, carefully guiding it up to your mouth in attempts to seem starved. Gaz watched carefully, face set in firm lines that bristled a resentful itch inside of you.

With a turn of your hands, you tossed the porridge directly at Gaz, coating him in the piping liquid, chunks of vegetable that had been carelessly tossed in for flavor slipping down his front. His shirt and trousers were drenched, staining with the lifeless meal.

His face morphed into one of surprise before quickly shifting course. Instead, he was angry, eyebrows pulling taut, scowl curling on his lips. His eyes darkened impossibly more, filling the warm pupils with a menacing black.

“You fuckin’ wench,” he hissed, standing from his crouch to angrily swipe at the food that littered his clothing. It fell to the floor in a mushy mess right in front of you. Due to his aggression, a few stray chunks splattered back on to you in retaliation.

Realizing what you’d done, you tensed up, shuffling back from your place on the floor until your back hit the splintering walls of the ship. Gaz let out a roaring groan in irritation, sending a daggering glare your way.

“You are not hungry?” he asked tauntingly. He stepped out of the cell, slamming the door shut and locking it up tight. “Starve then. You will learn soon enough.”

Watching with widened eyes, he left the brig, grumbling angry curses to himself. When he shut the doors of your escape, you were met with sickening silence once again. The sound of waves taunted you, whispering insults in your ears for being such a stupid girl.

The pact you’d made with yourself was already in ruin. Befriending the pirates would be a difficult task if you couldn’t swallow down your enmity, and now you’d gone and made a foe.

Nobody returned to your cell for the rest of the day. It was punishment, that much you could figure out. Your stomach grumbled with desperate pleas, yet you could do nothing but wallow in your own acrimony for the remainder of the night.

When morning rose, you were awakened by the sound of the door once again. The light was blinding as it invaded the room, temporarily blocking your view of the person who’d stepped inside. When your eyes adjusted, you were faced with another pirate, the one who had held Mary down while you pleaded with him to release her.

Gaz stood beside him, arms crossed to appear larger. His face was unreadable, but you could feel the tease of resentment fluttering in his eyes.

“Not goin’ to toss yer breakfast on me, are ye?” the other snickered, eliciting a glare from Gaz. The pirate stepped forward, unlocking your cell and slipping inside. This time, he held the stale porridge while Gaz remained a pace behind him. “I know yer starvin’, so don’t be a prude. Eat up, aye?”

He set the bowl in front of you, just as Gaz had done. Remaining crouched in front of you, he made a gesture of his head towards the steaming meal, a toothy grin on his face.

You knew better than to feel relieved at the kindness. He was a pirate, just as the others, and he was cruel and unruly. Though, thinking back on your plan, his youthfulness may be a much easier one to befriend.

“Thank you,” you mumbled quietly with a respectful bow of your head. You reached for the bowl, gathering it in both hands. Gaz and the other studied you, seemingly waiting for a repeat of dirty laundry. It never came, though, and you lifted the wood spoon to your lips, swallowing down the first bite.

Just as you thought, it was bitter. How one could even make porridge bitter, you were unsure, but your stomach made no protest to the grainy oats. In fact, it was rather appealing, having been starved for two days.

“Take it ye like it, then?” the one pirate hummed, cocking his head at the display. “Get used to it, birdie. It’ll be yer meal for majority of yer time here.” He shot you another grin, resembling a mangy cat.

The reminder of your permanent stay was a difficult one, but your plan played over in your head. You wanted to go home, though it was no more, and you wanted your freedom back. Neither would be possible if you didn’t show kindness in return.

“What’s your name?” you questioned, making a poor attempt at conversation.

“Soap,” he introduced proudly. You didn’t mean to, but the name made you snort, triggering a light cough from the porridge you’d been in the middle of swallowing down.

“Soap is an… interesting name,” you grimaced. Soap didn’t seem to mind the back-handedness, only keeping that signature grin that was beginning to grow a bit hard on the eyes.

“Aye, got the name from bein’ a bit too rowdy. Price wanted to wash my mouth out.” His own words had him cackling, loud and boisterous in the cramped brig. Gaz had no reaction, opting for the hardened look that was practically piercing into you like thousands of knives. “What’s yer name, birdie? Got to learn who our new medic is.”

You wanted to remind him that you weren’t a medic. Not a professional one, anyway. You knew the bare minimum of proper medical etiquette and your medicines Ghost had told you to bring with were simply experimental mixtures. But you also knew that he wouldn’t listen nor care.

“The village called me dove,” you explained, swallowing down more porridge. It was warm in your mouth, coating your throat with gooey goodness. “Though, I don’t think it was much out of kindness.”

Soap hummed in acknowledgement, shooting a lopsided smile and a nod of his head. “Not quite a pirate name, dove, but it’ll do.”

“I’m not a pirate,” you defended with a frown.

“Ye are now,” he reckoned mindlessly, shrugging a lazy shoulder. Soap stood from his position, straightening up next to Gaz. “I’ll give ye some advice to be a part of this crew, dove. It’s not nice to throw porridge at a poor lad like Gaz.” Soap clapped Gaz on his shoulder, earning a scowl, which he ignored.

Your eyes shifted from Soap to Gaz, taking in the pure annoyance radiating off of him in waves. It was undeniable, practically filling the room’s atmosphere with black mist.

“I apologize,” you forced out, though that bitter part of you denied it. You wouldn’t feel sorry for these pirates. After all, they didn’t feel bad for the innocent lives they ruined.

Gaz’s nose twitched at your faux remorse, staring at you for a beat too long before turning away. He made no move to talk to you, but it wasn’t a blatant refusal of your apology. Perhaps he was just a tough nut to crack with a soft sweetness on the inside, even for a pirate.

The two men left you alone in the brig once again, only returning to give you meals as needed. It was terribly lonely the more the weeks went on with no move to release you from your cell. It was as if none of them trusted you, despite them being the ones to kidnap you. They burned down your home, slaughtered your people, and yet, wouldn’t allow you a chance to taste a sliver of freedom.

It was agonizing to wait, but you kept up your facade as much as you could, dripping with poisoned honey every time Gaz or Soap entered the brig with means to feed you.

Price or Ghost hadn’t made an entrance to see you. For the most part, you were grateful for it. In just the couple of weeks Soap and Gaz had been feeding you, they were warming up to you, slow and steady — Soap more than the other.

Gaz still had his reservations about you. He was reclusive, always standing on guard as if the shadows in the wall were prepared to attack at any given moment. It was better than before, where he had treated you like a burdening dog who he couldn’t rid himself of, but the progress was dwindling.

Soap was much more gracious. While he was obnoxious, he was much more welcoming company. You had no desire to truly befriend these pirates, but if any were to be the most tolerable, it was Soap.

Price and Ghost, though, were a mystery. Their absence made crucial falters in your meticulous plotting. You wanted out of the cell so you may roam the creaky decks of the ship, but the dream simply wouldn’t be possible without their trust.

It wasn’t until the fourth week of your imprisonment that the storyline had shifted. Rather than Soap bringing you your meal for the night, it was the Captain himself, standing tall and brute in front of your barred enclosure.

Unease rattled through your bones at his sudden appearance. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you prepared to face the very man who had slain your village with the help of his men.

He observed you like a lab rat, studying every movement like a variable in his experiment. It was prodding and exposing, leaving you sitting in your cell with a heavy lump in your throat.

“Soap tells me you’re warmin’ up to him,” he claimed, breaking the thick silence that smothered the air. He paced back and forth in front of your cell, eyes focused in on you. “Figured I’d properly introduce myself, seein’ as we’ll be spendin’ a lot of time together.”

You swallowed the rock in your throat, unmoving from your position on the floor. It was far from comfortable, but the cot was worn and dirty, so the floor became your only friend in the midst of all your dispair.

“I see,” you managed, clearing your throat. Price continued his relentless pacing, hands crossed behind his back in a formal manner. Ironic, really, considering his ruthless occupation.

“Dove, was it?” he asked. You nodded wearily. “A shame, really. Doves are lovely things, beautiful creatures made up of the purest white. Yet your village had called you it in ridicule. Or so I heard.”

Price was a man that spoke in riddles. He spouted conversation in the form of poetry, only tainting its beauty when angered. It was both unnerving and intriguing for a pirate. He wasn’t dirtied like you’d heard in childhood tales.

“I suppose they did,” you agreed with a small frown. The anxious pit in your stomach only grew, triggering alarm bells telling you that this man was an enigma. He wasn’t to be trusted.

“And why is that?” Price questioned. He ceased his pacing to face you properly, and you wished he’d return to it. His stature was that of a behemoth, overpowering and menacing, much like Ghost had been.

“Why did they call me dove?” you responded in confusion.

“Why did they ridicule you,” he corrected.

The statement made you pause. You hadn’t really thought about your townspeople dumbing you down to a mere crazy girl with too much ambition. You were the talk of the village within your age group as well as the occasional elder who tsked at you for never marrying.

The relationship between you and your people was one of complexity. While you loved them as your own, they battered you every chance they had. Hell, even Lucius himself had outed you to a group of pirates without care in the world. The very man who had spent countless months in attempts to make you a pretty village wife had sent you to your early grave to save his own ass.

“They thought I was different,” you explained woefully. “It is not normal for a woman to partake in medicine, let alone education. Doves are beautiful, yes, but they’re also adventurous. It is a dangerous conviction to be compared to as a woman.”

Price cocked his head to the side, filling the air with silence. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to explain yourself to a dingy villain such as him, but you feared that if you weren’t honest in your conversation, he’d be able to sniff out your deception from miles away.

“Who has told you it is not normal?” Price asked, and once again, he had stumped you.

“It is not a difficult thing to digest, Captain. Women do not involve themselves in ambition.”

“They quite do,” he retorted. You stared up at him through the bars, your own head cocking. You didn’t trust his word, but a shriveled piece of you was curious. “Sure, it is not acceptable in certain places, but it is quite popular.”

You blinked at him, before staring at the wooden floor, pondering.

You had been expecting the Captain to treat you with hostility, to throw nasty words your way with the excuse of being a pirate. That was what you had been told in adolescence, how dirty they could be, but he was calm.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Price said. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the bars of your cell, standing over you with only that barrier separating you. “I am not a cruel man. You may think differently, and for that, I do not care. But I will say that I believe you will have a much better life upon my ship.”

His words were a mix of sweet venom being spat at you. While they could be perceived as kind, there was an underlying message, one you couldn’t decipher.

“You burned down my village and killed my people. You kidnapped me to be your medic on your ship,” you defended, unable to hold back the taste of lingering resentment.

You had nearly forgotten why you were there with Soap and Gaz visiting to shift your mind elsewhere. You almost dismissed your own plan of escape. Price had reminded you without realizing, and now, your heart felt heavy once again.

“Ah, yes. The people that willingly sacrificed their own in effort to save themselves,” Price mused mockingly. The words stung. “Yes, we took you against your will. I will admit that. But your people treated you far worse.”

“You do not know a thing, Captain,” you spat.

Price cocked his head once more, resting his forehead on the forearms that lay upon your cell. “Aye, I do not,” he admitted. “But I know a bird with clipped wings when I see one. Perhaps you’ll be grateful when you learn to accept things as they are.”

You wanted to retort, wanted to get the last word in, but he was right. You barely knew the Captain and yet, he had read you like a novel, flipping through your pages and memorizing them from one single look through.

It felt dehumanizing. He was cruel and vicious, as were his men. They were nowhere near saviors, yet he spoke to you as if he was. It sickened you to the core, but there was no denying his brutal honesty.

Price offered you a lazy smile before standing straight, arms falling to his sides. “I suggest gettin’ used to your new life. You’ve got no home to return to anyway.”

He retreated from your cell as if he hadn’t slapped you in the face with a dose of reality. His boots were heavy and aggravating as they trudged up the stairs towards the upper deck, where he promptly shut the door on you, leaving you alone once again.

Your escape plan was falling into shambles before it had even began to fester. 

[missglaskin]

Yan!Great Bastards/Targs house (Platonic) HCS

Characters-Aegon IV, Naerys, Aemon (mention), Daeron II, Daenerys, Daemon Blackfyre, Shiera, Aegor, Brynden

Note; reader is adopted and female, mostly platonic but some relationships can be interpreted. The timeline is inaccurate/messy

Ever since Aegon brought you to court, many whispers assumed you must have been a bastard of his. Yet there was a lack of any sign that the blood of old Valyria coursed through your veins. It also didn't help that there were whispers claiming you already had a family of your own, adding to the uncertainty surrounding their fate. Still, even with doubt, the lord and ladies accept Aegon's claims.

Aegon has kept you close ever since you arrived at court. He has proven to be a man of envy, despising the thought of anyone else stealing your time and attention from him. Despite his best efforts to keep you to himself, Naerys and Aemon were still able to become quite involved in your life.

You quickly won the favor of Naerys, as she would spend alone time with you at any given chance. It's her who also gave you and Daeron and Daenerys the opportunity to finally meet. With Naerys, you can come to expect that she'll hand you clothes that she herself embroidered and sewed.

With you around, Aegon treats Naerys with a little more decency. Aegon is a man who seeks praise and validation, so noticing your frown and distant demeanor in the way he treats Naerys will hurt him just a little. Unbeknownst to you, it only deepens Daeron and Aemon's attachment to seeing you care for Naerys.

Aemon is the last person Aegon ever wants to see you bond with. There is considerable conflict between the brothers, whether it's believed to be over Naerys or the allegations regarding Daeron's legitimacy. The more Aemon spends his time with you, the more bitterly Aegon feels toward his brother.

Daeron, along with Aemon and Naerys, is possibly the most "normal" out of the family. He treats you with such tenderness and care—it's impossible not to warm up to him. Given that his father brought you to court and paraded you around, you initially assume that Daeron would harbor some resentment. But all Daeron's eyes convey is warmth.

Daeron and you are told to spend most of the day together whenever you could, either playing cyvasse, going for a walk in the gardens, or having dinner together. Aegon didn't give much thought if you chose to carry out your princess responsibilities, but Daeron and Naerys did. They had you be taught how to dance, courtesy, and embroidery while he wasn’t around. 

Aemon would always try to accompany you, either walking you to your chambers or through the gardens. He guards you with the same degree of vigilance that he does with Daeron and Naerys, stepping in to help if he notices you in distress. He also permits you to go horseback riding if you choose, as Aegon never lets you.

These are rare moments in between, as Aegon immediately steals you away to his usual spot by his side. As has been said, Aegon was a demanding man. He anticipates your unceasing praise, telling you of something "nice" he has done for Naerys or giving you a gift just to see you smile. It was best for you to pretend he's the favorite of the family.

When Daeron wed Myriah Martell, both of you grew quickly fond of each other. As expected, Aegon did not like the little friendship you developed. When the two soon introduced Baelor (Breakpear) to the court, they made you among the first to hold him. Daeron couldn’t help but smile as he watched you interact with his baby son. Little Baelor was often used as an excuse for Daeron and Myriah to take you away.

While you were very attached to Daeron, he was older (and very busy), so you spent your free time with (Aegon ofc), the ladies of the court and most of all with Daemon and Daenerys. Rumors occasionally circulated that you were spotted in the gardens, showing young Daenerys the lovely view of the flowers with Daemon watching you both from afar.

The tranquil realm Viserys ruled over quickly came to an end when he passed away. Aegon, the fourth of his name, soon sat the throne. The moment the crown was put the crown on his head, the dynamics of the family were entirely shifted. Aegon’s first act was to ensure you were legitimized before the whole court. Giving you the name Targaryen was probably the only time the family came together. 

If possible, Aegon’s treatment of his son and brother worsened. Any disputes he had with Aemon led to the king forbidding his brother from ever speaking to you. It wasn’t beneath him to threaten Daeron with the same thing as well.

As king, Aegon publicly had numerous mistresses. Who all knew to get on your good side as Aegon was persuaded by your opinion. It was told how much he liked a mistress by how much he allowed her to interact with you.  Falena Stokeworth, Jeyne Lothson, Bethany Bracken, and Sereni of Lys were among the familiar faces. You even bonded with their bastards, which one is compelled to believe is a jab at his son.

The court also knew to get on your side; after all, it wasn’t filled with noble or wise men, but those who flatter and amuse. It’s said that if one made you laugh, it was enough reason for Aegon to gift them land.

Aegon always showered you with gifts, but as king, he made sure you were the best dressed at court. From silks taken from Qarth to being showered with all sorts of jewelry—diamonds, gold, rubies, and pearls. And if you asked for it, he would gladly name hills, mountains, and even castles after you.

Aegon assumed that with all he had done for you, you would always be on his side. So one can imagine his fury when rumors of Naerys’s adultery and Daeron’s legitimacy were whispered among the court, and you took his wife and son’s side. Even more when you seemed to admire his brother for defending the queen’s honor.

It was a tragedy when Aemon’s life was taken when he stepped in between the king and his assassin. His death sent Naerys into grief. And while you were grieving for Aemon, you had to also grieve for Naerys as she soon followed him to her grave. Aegon pretended to comfort you, but secretly, in all his selfishness, he was glad to have some competition taken out. 

Daenerys already saw you as her sister, but with her mother’s death, it only made her cling to you far more and made the two of you closer than ever. You did always have a way of cheering her up. In the evenings, either one of you would sneak into each other’s bedchambers just to spend time conversing. 

Daenerys loved when you would do her hair, sending away any of her handmaidens to do it instead. Even when you think you did a poor job, Dany was quick to compliment you. She was affectionate in general, embracing you either when she greeted you or when she said her goodbyes.

With Naerys and Aemon dead, Aegon continued spreading the rumors of his son’s illegitimacy, and tried getting you on his side more than once. But it only made him despise his son more seeing your intense loyalty towards him. Made worse with the queen dead, the mistresses were far more bold, pushing their children to get closer to you as a way to gain more favor in court. 

Aegor was the first to catch your attention. Even as a child, his protectiveness and possessive were evident to the whole court. If it wasn’t your father pushing away the other children, it was Aegor. In his eyes, Aegor saw you as a sweet thing to be protected, and he was willing to do anything you asked of him.

He was easily jealous and bitter of anyone taking your attention away from him. Whether it’s your lady friends, to which Aegor stands in the corner glaring at them, or Daenerys, who’s having some tea time with you. Worst of all, his anger was all directed towards Daeron to which Aegor had to hold himself from lunging at the prince whenever Daeron took you away from Aegor.

Though there’s no bigger rival to Aegon until Brynden comes into the picture. Between the half-brothers, there’s no familiarity. Not only do their houses hold a long rivalry that passes generations but Aegor’s mother was passed over by Brynden’s.

Aegon allowed you not only to know Melissa Blackwood but also to become familiar with her three children: Myra, Gwenys, and Brynden. Aegor hated how Brynden seemed to easily catch your attention. You didn’t notice the way Brynden slowly inserted himself into your little friend group with his sisters. And when you add Shiera to the mix, Aegor only grew to loathe Brynden more.

As said, while Aegor is more aggressive and demanding, Brynden is much more subtle. He has a way of getting you to open up to him, and he is a great listener, remembering every little bit. Brynden also seems to have a knack for noticing the little details from your rings to your headpieces. 

But like Aegor, Brynden is also a jealous man. You have no idea how many he has sent away, whispering doubts into your ears about the "suspicious" acts of your lady friends. Even as a child, Brynden had a way of pulling the strings and somehow he knew all there was to know. 

Shiera takes any opportunity to steal you away, locking arms as she guides you away when the two half-brothers are at each other’s throats. She would spend many hours with you if she could, listening to your sweet voice. One of her favorite things to do is get you ready for feasts in your chambers; she is fond of ivory and lace and incorporates it into your style as well.

Though none of Aegon’s bastards are closer to you than Daemon Waters. You would usually catch him in the corner of your eye, and you didn’t mind his company with how nicely he treated you. Giving you advice when needed, complimenting your dress, or gently tucking anything in place.

He was your father’s (second) favorite, and it’s evident in how he allowed Daemon the privilege to become closer to you. History remembers all too well when he handed Daemon ‘Blackfyre,’ but what history doesn’t know is that it secretly made Daemon feel as if he’s more worthy of your attention.

As expected from an Heir, Daeron resided in Dragonstone for a few years. He promised to exchange ravens and he kept to his word. As much as Daeron missed you terribly and desired nothing more than to bring you along, he knew his father’s answer. 

The more Aegon sat on the throne, the more your seat was right to next to it; a little throne of your own, one made comfortable instead of his. It was the last years that made Aegon actually never leave your side, not even Daemon could interact all that much with you. 

When Aegon’s reign ended, he demanded you to be on his side as spent his last moments on his deathbed. And it made you a witness to his last decree: legitimizing all his great bastards; a last spite against Daeron.

Upon learning of his father’s death, you and Daeron reunited once more, a happy moment instantly overshadowed by the realization that Daeron must do his supposed duty, crowning himself with you as his witness. He spent his time repairing all the damage his father did. Daeron would go as far as to include you in the council, and like his father, would look forward to your advice, but unlike his father, he can choose to make his own decisions.

Daenerys being sent off to Dorne was upsetting for both of you. You both promised to exchange letters and gifts. Dany would send letters detailing her time in Dorne, how she grew fond of the place and the people, but that she missed home and, most of all, she missed you. Daeron made promises to have you visit her, but secretly the two of you knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Daemon and the rest of the bastards being legitimized was an incident that made everyone hold their breath; they all knew the consequences of doing such a thing. But for now, it seemed as if not much had changed. Daemon took the name ‘Blackfyre’, and he and the rest were strangely treated well by Daeron and allowed at court.

With Aegon no longer around, they were all allowed to spend time that they could not have. A secret among everyone was that it was a relief Aegon’s passed. Daeron, of course, had more authority than anyone else, but he strangely did not hold his father’s intense possessiveness and jealousy, and the same went for Myriah, who treated you so well and convinced her husband to give you some freedom.

It meant you were permitted to be entertained in court as much as you wanted. Dancing with the other lords and ladies even if it led Daemon and Shiera taking all of your time.

You were also permitted the freedom to attend many dramatic performances and the jousting where many men competed for your hand. But something that Daeron and all the others agreed on: was that you were off limits.

While Daemon sat well in court, it was Aegor who whispered things to his ear. Aegon’s intense envy and bitterness never dissipated; if anything, he found himself resenting Daeron more and more over the years. He thought while the king presented smiles and courtesy when taking you away, he assumed the king was a fox behind a sheep’s clothing wanting you all to himself.

And we can assume the resentment never stopped towards Brynden. Not only did he take the woman he loved, Aegor is forced to share you with the man he hates more than anything. Brynden gives him passing looks that Aegor knows all too well what it means. But a sight that makes him clenches his fists is watching you read with Shiera and Brynden, sitting too closely between the two of them.

Family dinners, while on the surface seem nice,  all the servants and the guards could feel the tensions rising. You are obviously seated next to the king, or at times seated next to Myriah. They all exchange pleasantries, but one can notice the glare Aegor gives when Brynden speaks to you, how Shiera and Daemon tend to only seek you out in conversations. How the rest tense when you compliment or thank one of them. 

And while everything seems pleasant at the moment, it no longer does when Daemon Blackfyre announces himself as the rightful king with Aegor on his side. When Daeron has you locked in your chambers or has guards watching your every move for your safety, but most of all to ensure you are not taken under his nose.

Shiera and Brynden who take Daeron’s side reassure they all want the best for you. There is a war brewing between the family and everyone is well aware you are stuck in the middle.

[synthetickitsune]

Woozi (SVT) | Afterglow fluff | 0.6k | gn!reader warnings: mentions of previous sexual activities but nothing explicit

His eyes are so bright. It's not exactly a fresh observation but everything feels new, somehow. Maybe you're only still coming back to your senses. All of him is bright. And he's bright, inside and out. And it doesn't register in your brain that he can't read your thoughts and so your wide smile and fond eyes make no sense to him. 

"What is it?" Jihoon asks, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek. If he's bright, then you’re soft. He marvels at the long-known and yet somehow new revelation. He runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your cheek and the side of your face. You’d give into him so easily if he pressed, but he won’t. He feels each little dip and tiny scar and he's so glad you're you, and not some perfect doll playing at being human. He could touch you forever. And, like you, he too doesn't think to tell you. Maybe you'll be able to read it from the lift of the corners of his lips. 

"What is it?" you mirror and he laughs softly before pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips are so soft. His kiss makes you feel like you're glowing from the inside.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, unashamed to tell you how he feels in the precious minutes when you’re covered by the blanket of serenity and satisfaction. 

“You too,” …but he remains bashful when it’s his turn to accept praise.

Reality threatens to burst your little bubble soon - you'll need to clean up. You're both sweaty, and the sheets are messy, and your bodies are messy too, but you want to stay like this forever - to simply float on a cloud with Jihoon by your side. His smile could chase storm clouds away. 

"Come closer," is what he says, but it's different words you hear and that you return by pressing a lingering kiss to the underside of his jaw as you cuddle up to him. You will yourself to ignore the drying bodily fluids on your skins. 

His arms are strong but gentle around you, and you let yourself feel small and vulnerable for a second. A rare treat that you both only allow yourself with each other. And even so you don’t usually get the courage to unless it’s in the moments like this. You breathe in deeply his scent, a hint of his cologne still present, just like he can faintly smell your shampoo in your hair.

There's no need to say anything more. Soon the endorphins will give way to the rest of what you can feel but until then, you want to bask in his warmth and the feeling of his nails scratching lightly along your spine. He, too, seems reluctant to even think about pulling away from your lips singing sweet praises into his ear, genuine reassurances that he'd usually shy away from. 

Right now, though, he's already naked and so are you, and you're so soft and pliant under his touch that he can show as much trust in you as you show him. What would be the point in hiding if you’ve already bared yourselves to each other completely?

Jihoon closes his eyes again and nuzzles further into your hair. You fit so well against his body, like with each embrace you’re molding yourself into him. It’s a nice thought, that you’d become the one who’s meant to be for each other. Without the intervention of fate, destiny, without supernatural ties and bonds. Just two humans loving each other, choosing each other for no other reason than love and trust.

It’s a foreign feeling. A scary one too. Do you feel scared like he does? Does it make your heart race just like his? He hugs you closer. Doubts are for later. For now he only needs to hold you.

[kalims]

��here is my husband

premise. just us casually staking a claim on our non-official husbands (for coupons)

featuring. all characters

content. alignment, fluff

ㅤthe flustered over thinkers

one who's unbearably confused because he doesn't recall a marriage taking place to wed the two of you at all, he's a little concerned though. he's sure he'd remember such an event? anything with the two of you is practically unforgettable to the fact that when he's in bed only thing he thinks about is you, and the lingering anticipation that he'll see you again in the morning.

besides this said... eventful morning. where you've both apparently upgraded in relationship without his knowledge he can say that he's struggling to hide his steaming ears, hoping you won't notice if he brings the cup of coffee to his face so the steam seems like it's from there.

confused? flustered? thanks for the input! here's your boyfriend husband. doesn't even ask you to explain even though he's twitching to ask you cause if he knows you then you're almost always up to no good, maybe this is one of your tricks but he won't try just for the thought that you're still 'married.' all marriage related things, even the color white is sending his mind into overwire :)

— | riddle, jack, deuce, azul, epel, silver

ㅤwe love flirts

ah yes, if we've got the flustered, confused husbands we also need to get our resident flirts who just gives you a side glance and plays along like he knows what game you're playing. absolutely no questions at all because you know he's gonna bring up the topic sooner or later with a tease, he just feels like he has to return the fluster you'd admittedly inflicted on him. (which is apparently by proclaiming you're both married now.)

don't be surprised if you're getting private messages online, or just random people coming up to you asking how you're married in... this golden age, was that even legal there? you're not sure but maybe because everyone was kind of casual about it.

doesn't matter whether you say you're just messing with him. oh, you're done? good for you but he isn't. he's calling you his spouse everywhere, a local restaurant, shop, stall. wherever you say, he claims he's just doing what you asked for the coupons but you've got an inkling he's just got a knack for calling you his lawfully wedded partner.

— | trey, cater, jade, rook, lilia, leona (partly), vil

ㅤlegally in denial

we have the awkward ones who partially accept their fates, the flirts who's living purpose is to get a rise of warmth in your face, and we have the legally in denial ones whom are trying so hard to deny everything you do. you guys are dating?! oh my god... you must be being threatened to do this, where's the culprit?! news flash, there isn't any but even when it's so clear they seem to find every single reason to convince themselves that there's something wrong.

like, please accept our love already. you already called them your husband in broad daylight, is that not enough of proof? what do you mean you're probably gonna divorce him... he doesn't mention the fact of you guys never marrying at all, just jumps in divorce...

sometimes you should punch a man for his self esteem, it must be a struggle trying to convince someone you like, that you indeed like them. crazy, right? he can't take this heart stopping gesture he's watched too many times but will gladly arrange a wedding in minecraft. just tell him you guys got married ever since he put his bed next to yours if he asks since when.

— | idia on his own

ㅤairheads who are simps

the classic group of guys, of which they all are just incredibly down bad for the lead who just so happens to be you! <4 in this case they're so in love that they wouldn't even question anything you say even if you mix up murder and a name in the same sentence! if you trip? oh no, no. it's clearly the fault of the ground, not to worry! he'll even get workers to reconstruct the entire thing.

and yes, he's either rich or has enough influence (if not through intimidation.) anyways, if they're mad because of a horrible day just walk in a room and then the dark cloud over their heads just floats away and is replaced by hearts in their eyes.

a prank? oh you're funny. what ever do you mean? you're both clearly married. he's got the papers right here *materializes one.* where did that even come from?! say it once, now you've planted something that won't go away in their heads and it's going to shift to reality one way or another :)

— | kalim, floyd, malleus, rook.

ㅤchill mister tsunderes

takes a deep breath* screeches* yeah that's pretty much it. the people (possibly pertaining to just one person, cause he almost always needs his own category.) who try to refuse your existing even if you just cough. keyword: try because even if you're dating them they're still struggling to wrap their head around the fact that they are dating you so maybe their coping mechanism is just refusing to admit you make their hearts go boom boom??

is completely torn whether to screech again (preferably not in his mind to release that pent up... feeling. some type of fluster that makes him wonder if he should have brought a pillow to yell into.) or just reject what you just said. somehow his mouth just doesn't cooperate and he has to look away from you because he's actually struggling to keep his sanity together.

giving himself pep talk, the fortitude that 'he doesn't like you', trying to rebuild that wall back up again but he learns that he apparently can't take it when you're both referred to a life bounded vow. not as in he despises is, though he believes he is. but rather because he'll probably combust on the spot by the sheer claim being said out loud.

— | main: sebek, leona, ace

ㅤdem smug bastards

the ones who just can't resist to crack a smirk when you casually introduce him as your husband, no wonder you insisted he wore the promise ring you had given him.. just to show him off? consider him impressed! this might be just one of his favorite memento of your shenanigans. either he already knows what you're up do (leona) or he's just enjoying the remnants of your embarrassed face as he plummets you with endless grins and teases (floyd)

he's your husband...? I mean true but you're mainly his spouse :) should you even regret having done anything in the first place for the coupons? don't ever. anything should be done for the discounts, even if your supposed husband starts parading everywhere and uses every opportunity that appears in random conversations or situations to just casually announce your lawfully wedded marriage.

what do you mean you're not married? I mean he's got all the evidence in his phone, you didn't think he'd pass up the opportunity to record you saying that phrase for nothing did you? it's a great moment to remember, especially when it's in the middle of the night and he can't help but pull up that recording just to listen to it on loop like an idiot.

— | leona, floyd, ruggie, jade?, lilia (perhaps, vil (also questionable)

ㅤwho are you talking to rn?

those who look embarrassed but you're betting most on your money that he's just awfully flustered + doesn't like the feeling just guessing from him avoiding your eyes like you're the entity from bird box. does he really think his hood can cover the entirety of his red ears? they're fooling absolutely no one with that fake cough, only thing you heard was the quiet choke when they processed your words.

tries to play it off by 'composing' themselves in front of you, even though their back is turned to you. the straightening of their shoulder usually implies that they think they're ready but you can't help but note that several parts of their body, if not all, collectively flinch at the sight of you. they dont say anything but they give you this... look.

like, narrowed eyes, their jaw is slightly turned away from you, *judges whole existence with a side eye* they can't believe they even have you as a partner but besides that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that such a stupid notion such as that actually had him doing cartwheels inside his head.

— | jamil deserves this, ruggie, jack, azul

ㅤwym didn't we already get married?

YOUR HONOR ITS THIS ONE. you're probably making him more confused than you are. because?? cue confused face. didn't you guys already get married like, a month ago? do you not see the ring on your finger? the matching one on his own finger? did you really not notice anything when he just casually takes you to the most ethereal, sacred place of briar valley and hands you the box containing the ring...? has he done it too subtly? well, he's underestimated humans once again...

to fae culture that was probably the most obvious thing ever. he didn't outright just decide he wanted to marry you, but you've probably done something that borders on a 'let's get married' proposal in his culture so that just prompted him to get to work ASAP, get his workers find the most grandest ring there is in his family heirloom.

if you take it. that just meant you're both FOR LIFERSSSSS. HENCE WHY HES SO CONFUSED WHEN YOU'RE CONFUSED THAT HES ACTING LIKE ITS NORMAL. I mean he's happy that you finally decided to call him his rightful title after a month but why are you so flabbergasted, child of man? what do you mean you're not married? just look at said sacred, ethereal place in briar valley. both your names are engraved there together, that's enough proof isn't it?

— | malleus

bonus <4

ㅤthe actual partner in crime

want to take it up a notch? just call the resident creator of forged documents, this is totally legal and free! just get on his good side and he will remain there forever, unchanging cause he loves you now. unless you somehow wrong him... it's actually very beneficial because he can do nearly anything for you without trouble so... wow you're married? why didn't you invite him :( oh you're not but you want to be? oh that's totally fine!

oh you want his help? he can't go against the law because of his coding system but.. it also says to help friends whenever he can and you're his best friend so :)) *casually prints out paper* don't worry he'll talk to some friends and it will be legal before you know it!

knowing his brother he's probably authorized to break the law so he had to code it himself before he gets too far... anyways congrats on your actual marriage 😊

— | ortho

note. this is a commissioned piece, do not post this anywhere else

[space-dreams-world]

Another twin Au: D and T twins

D and T twins part 2: more info on the twins

When Danyal was pretty young, by accident, he tripped into the pits when no one was looking and came out fine, by after his trip he had gained some abilities that while he wanted to share with his sister, her treated of him was pretty negative and kept to himself, in fact after this he spent his time at the All-Caste to hone his skills partly, but distant himself from his sister.

During this time, he was contacted by a Deity named Chronos/ Clockwork who promised him some clarity on the future of the League as well as some insight into his family and his place in the league.

Now, Danyal knew that the League was not a good nor safe environment to promote the betterment of others, but had a fate that maybe it could change. Both himself and his sister were trained in the art of combat and assassination, but Danyal excelled better in emotional manipulation, strategy and the element of surprise, while his sister was the brutal attacker with her deadly charms.

Talia forgot due to trauma, that one of Ra's tests was to have some assassins assassinate them in their sleep, but one was a little more handsy than they should of, so when Danyal heard his sister's quiet tears, Danyal was there and with quick efficiency and brutally the assassin was dismembered into chunks that Talia had to change sleeping quarters and they could never really get rid of the bloodstains in that room. (This hints at some aggression that can be seen in Dan Phantom)

This is where Ra took a personal interest in Danyal and had mandatory sessions with him. During or after some sessions, Danyal was able to get into Ra's journal without being caught and he read the first-hand account of Ra's deeds. Danyal is appalled by this but understands that from an early age, his father has been mentally unwell from his Lazarus pits baths and that whatever remains is his brain struggling to process all the years he has been alive and that his mistreatment of his sister is due to old ways thinking. After the failed switch between Danyal and Ra, Ra trained his sister to be on equal footing as her brother, but without the spiritual resilience Danyal had.

[During Danyal's trip into the Danny Phantom universe, Danyal had been reduced to being reborn again into the Fenton Family and lived his 14 years ( and experienced his sister's frustrations with a "Golden child" sibling with Jazz) with them until his accident. Danyal, now Danny was good friends with both Tucker Foley and Sam Manson but had some reservations about their goals in befriending him. With Danny's new abilities, he dons the character of Ghost superhero as he had opened the portal and was partially responsible for its work.

Danny played the role of a failing high student who was bullied by peers,( a Clark Kent/Superman role) cut to the episodes where Danny deals with enemies such as Vlad, Freakshow, the GIW, the Observants, Valerie, Pariah Dark and any other big names. Danny had made friends with some of the ghosts including the deity Clockwork after a false assassination attempt and had learned the true nature of the Lazarus pits i.e. ectoplasm. Danny doesn't really entertain the idea of dating but accepts that he has preferences for strong driven individuals...batman.

At the end of the series, not including Phantom Planet, the Sr. Fentons have discovered Danny's true identity as Phantom as well as Danyal Al Ghul that he briefed to his sister, his clone (That after being discovered and rescued from Vlad was kept in the Zone to properly stabilize) and friends some time ago, the Fentons are outraged and in a move of pure idiocy, they blow up their portal that blows their home up and killing them and turning them into ghosts.

They spend their afterlives in ghost zone prisons, learning to correct their biases in death. Jazz ends with either the Foleys or Mister Lancer as Danyal is declared dead at the scene along with his parents. (He's not but once he gets back to his dimension, and Jazz has finished her education she will join him. Sam and Tucker may summon him, but he is not bringing them as he feels that there is no need for them to join him in the assassination and Danny is mentally older than them both as he played Danny as he never experienced normal childhood. Even if Sam harbours a crush on him, he has stated that he reserved his affections for someone else.]

More in part 3...

[koiiiji]

windbreaker characters as parents ༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

tw ; cuteness overload, contains character x character and character x reader

pairings ; min u x mia, shelly x jay jo, dom x reader, monster x reader, vinny x reader

౨ৎ let's start from min u and mia! proud parents of a girl and boy who are three years apart. girl is the older sister and goes along with her brother super well even through his puberty. mia is a great mother and her kids never hide anything from her as they know that they can trust her. mia and her daughter have their own "girls secrets" and side jokes, while min u and his son are super annoyed by it and tried to make their own side jokes, but girls always know its context. also, their grandad and auntie yuna spoil them so much!!! and also min u father are so proud of his son and he really likes mia. all in all 10/10 highly recommended to be born in this family.

౨ৎ shelly and jay. here things are more complicated because shelly parents insisted on them move in the UK during her pregnancy, but they decided to stay in Korea simply because shelly likes weather more and feel more comfortable there. life blessed them with a boy - a copy of his father. but he is a mummy's boy and he gets along with shelly more, even their son's first word was "mama!" when he happily squished shelly’s cheek with his small hands. with time, he builds more interests with jay’s hobbies, so till he hit his puberty he was such a sweet child. but when he turned 14? monster that going through "nobody understands me" era. sometimes jay wonders maybe he need to send his son to his mother so she will teach him some discipline, but then jay remembers that he doesn't want to give his child such trauma. by the way jay family calmed down the moment jay was accepted on the really well paid job and even his mother was proud that her son has international family. all in all 7/10 bc both jay and shelly parents would have a beef over who is better grandparents.

౨ৎ so i can imagine that dom would accept his father's business even tho he didn't insist. so you two were gifted with three daughters each with year apart. dom honestly wished his first would be a boy so he can grow up and protect his sisters, but fate had her own ideas. through your second pregnancy dom repeated that he would be happy for girl or boy, just healthy, strong child (he prayed for a boy), and you decided not to find out who you were going to have until the baby was born. and it was sweet, super calm girl. on third pregnancy dom really tried to have a boy (yes, he scrolled all that weird mums forums to find out in which pose you can conceive a boy). he has genuinely been surprised when doctor said you will have a girl. who was the happiest over the fact that he surrounded by girls? his father!! he loves all four of you, and dom suspect that his father loves you more than him. he definitely would call you daughter and generally he is super granddad and father-in-law. your daughters loves their granddad too!! imagine them cling to him from all sides, hanginig on his neck, arms and legs. generally girls goes along super good, but oldest and youngest are more close to their father as they share extrovert personality, while middle girl gets super along with you. dom are scared that they are growing up too fast and that in one day they will start dating b̴̨̢̰͖̂ͫͨ̒ͦͩơ̷̧̢̛̤̠̻͔̤̖̳͖̥̼̲̮̥̣̼̮̂̽̓ͮ͆̉ͩ͆ͣͧ̿ͫ́͋ͩ̏̚̕̚͜͞y̶̢͎̜̬͖̩̰̬̞̓͌̽͆̈́̉̑ͨ̂ͧ͌̌̇̅͗͌͘͜͟s̶̸̢͉͙͈̳̻̣̲͔̜̩ͮ̌̃̄̄̓̍̽͌̈́͑́͑ͩ͟͠͝ 💀☠️ all in all 9/10 dom vibes with his favourite girls but one one stingy male tear drops when he sees fathers play baseball with their sons (he was hitted in the nose with a ball from his youngest daughter)

౨ৎ when you and deokbong announced that you will have a child, people were... curious - how?? how you would be able to carry his child since you look so small in comparison to him. and you know what? it was twin boys... the birth was difficult but you did it and then you faced new challenge - both boys was copy of their father and they was heavy. you prayed for your back, seriously, but deokbong is super supportive husband and father so he was always there to help you. thankfully your boys were calm. like literally they always had serious faces, fists clenched and almost never cried. with time your younger one maintained your character and more of your features showed, like brows and nose form, cheeks, and face shape. all in all 10/10 you four would be happy simple sport family!!

౨ৎ vinny hong refuse to have children. end of headcanon.

but seriously, vinny had huge trauma from his father and from bulling in school, he will never be sure that he is enough as financially and emotionally for kids, so you two are proud parents of one big dog, maybe doberman or cane corso and lazy cat. all in all 7/10 just because there are too much wool at home and vinny refuse to go on a walk with dog in the early morning.

[undiscovered-horizon]

In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.

Almost.

The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.

“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.

Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”

“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”

It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”

“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.

“I find it quite admirable.”

Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.

“Excuse me?” you stutter out.

That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”

“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.

Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.

“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”

The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.

“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.

The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”

Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.

His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”

A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."

To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.

The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.

Outside. You need to get outside.

Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer. 

With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.

Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.

“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”

“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”

You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.

“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”

Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.

“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”

“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”

A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.

“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.

“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”

Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”

When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.

Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.

His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:

“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.

Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”

“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.

Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:

“You know her.”

Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?

But for now, he needs to stay focused. 

“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”

Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”

“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”

Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.

Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”

Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.

You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.

Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.

“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.

Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.

You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?

Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.

He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.

The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”

“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.

“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”

Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.

“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”

Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’)  but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.

The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.

Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.

A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”

“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”

“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”

You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”

Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”

“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”

“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”

Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"

You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."

Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”

“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”

His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”

"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"

"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."

"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."

That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”

As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.

“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”

It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?

“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.

“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.

Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.

A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”

“Gross.”

“You wanted a frisky sailor.”

"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”

"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.

"Pirate sounds sexier."

Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."

Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time. 

He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.

“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.

“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”

You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”

“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.

You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”

“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”

“I don’t think Alina heard you.”

His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”

“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.

Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.

зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)

солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)

[littlefireball]

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ᴀꜱ ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ (ᴍ)

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ᴏᴛ8 ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:  ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴏᴍ & ꜱᴜʙ|ʙᴅꜱᴍ|ᴋɴɪꜰᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ|ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ(?)|ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ (ʏꜱ)|ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴇɴᴇꜰɪᴛꜱ (ᴄꜱ)|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴛʜɪɢʜ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ|ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴ|ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ|ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏᴜʀ|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.5ᴋ

ᴀʟʟ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀ��ꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɢᴏᴅꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ, ɴɪᴄᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ?

Hongjoong ─ No one can bothers us

King of God Hongjoong x Angel Reader

"Do you know what you have done?" Kneeling before the temple, your wings gracefully hanging on both sides, you bow your head in acceptance of Hongjoong's judgment.

"I used soldiers' lives to defeat demons," you calmly state, showing no remorse.

"They were not just soldiers, but your brethren, your fellow warriors!" The archangel on the judgment seat curses loudly, heartbroken for the companions you sacrificed.

"Forgive my bluntness. Angels ordained to eliminate demons are fated for martyrdom. Since our creation, we have been prepared for a glorious death in battle…"

"Absurd!" The archangel's booming voice interrupts your explanation. "Y/N! As an angel, you are meant to hold life sacred and not justify such careless disregard for it with false reasoning! Merely being born as warriors does not give you the right to treat life so frivolously!"

"Silence!" Hongjoong's cold voice cuts through the archangel's roar. "Y/N, I once saw you as a loyal and formidable angel. Your unorthodox methods were accepted by me. But I never anticipated that you would overstep boundaries and disregard life for your own ambitions."

"No…I…" ""Y/N, for betraying the divine, you shall be stripped of your angelic status and condemned to live on Earth until you reform yourself."

"No!!" Your cry fell on deaf ears as no one heeded your pleas. "Take her away to prison and set a date for her execution," the heartless judgment sealed your fate, and despite your frantic denials, it was all for naught.

You lounged in the cell, gazing at the moon, indifferent to the dawn's arrival. "My acting is quite good, I must say~" A chuckle escaped your lips, and just then, the door creaked open.

Not the jailer, but Hongjoong, the King of God.

"Joong~" You hurried to embrace him, planting a kiss on his rosy lips. "Thanks a lot, darling." He returned the kiss, his eyes filled with adoration.

"You did so well, killed so many angles.Those idiots won't bother me anymore."Hongjoong nestled against your neck, showering you with kisses. "Joong…" You rested your head on his shoulder, granting him more access to please you."Good girls can have rewards, tell me if you want it."

"Yes, please, sir." Hongjoong pounced you onto the ground, burying himself in your chest while pulling down both of your pants. "Baby, you feel so good, so warm." He entered you at a slow pace, making sure you felt every vein of his angry cock. Your mouth formed an 'O' shape when he pushed so deeply, he knew you loved it.

"Please faster, sir." "As you wish, my love." The pleasure he bestowed upon you caused all worries to vanish, erasing any thoughts of his ulterior motives.

You were well aware that you were merely a pawn in his game to reach his ambitions, yet you willingly played along because of your deep affection for him. However, what you fail to realize is that this affection is not genuine love that stems from the depths of your soul.

Hongjong was also never expected the effectiveness of the cupid's arrows. Although he regretted not shooting other people, as long as he achieved his goal, it would be fine. His thrusting was going faster and faster as if there was no limitation.

"You did so well, my lovely girl."

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Seonghwa ─ Twisted Love

God of Hypocritical Seonghwa x Sacrifice offering Reader

(some kind of sequel of SH|Blood, Sweat, Tears ~you may read it first and you may know more about the content)

Humans are easily swayed by the allure of miracles. Once they witness such wonders, they become completely obedient. Nor do the gods in heaven do so, despite my best friend being the ruler of gods. Nevertheless, I shall continue to seek joy in this earthly realm.

Yet, I fail to comprehend why Y/N, a girl of such disdain towards me, holds such animosity. Her aversion surpasses that of others. Am I not the favored ones amongst humanity? Or have I erred in my assumption?

Oh but, clever am I. I gave her the best sex ever, and she hated me less. Well…No, there is something dark in her heart, she still does not love me fully. I have to figure out what it is.

And I found it─her family and villagers. She has never been loved by her family and always been treated as an "object". My poor Y/N. Although it is weird for me to feel pity on her, it doesn’t matter, I will still kill for her.

“I killed all the people you hated. Did I do well?” I can vividly recall the expression on her face upon hearing the news - a mixture of fear and disbelief…No, it shouldn't be like this. I reassure her that I am her protector, willing to go to any lengths for her. But, why? Why does she not rejoice? Have I erred in any way? Does she not wish for their demise? Oh, yes. I forgot one important point. She has yet to witness the extent of my power. Okay, then, I shall shower her with an abundance of love, and watch as her fears dissipate.

“Seonghwa─Seong!!” My longing for her grows stronger with each passing moment, but why? The sound of her moan is undeniably alluring. I am utterly infatuated with it to the point where I would go to any lengths just to hear her moan. Every aspect of her is flawless─her bosom quivers intensely with my every movement, her softness envelops my manhood as I penetrate deeply. Oh, the sensation is truly indescribable. And the most exquisite part is when she releases her essence onto me, her nectar envelops me so perfectly, bringing me endless pleasure.

I need it everyday or I will die, to be honest.

As I gaze upon her slender midsection, a new idea crosses my mind - what if our offspring resided within her? Surely, she would radiate beauty with a precious little one nestled in her rounded belly. The mere thought fills me with anticipation. Whether or not she desires a child is inconsequential; for I am her ultimate authority, and she is bound to obey my every command.

Absolutely, I adore her immensely. If not, I wouldn't make love with her daily. It's inconceivable for me to do so if I harbor any animosity towards someone. This is simply my way of expressing affection, isn't it? All I desire is for her to heed my wishes, especially since I've done everything in my power for her. It's only natural for her to acquiesce. And guess what? She's finally pregnant. All of my acquaintances are rushing to extend their congratulations to us. They are all eager to witness the sheer adorableness of my offspring.

Of course, me too.

However, y/n appears to be discontent… Perhaps it's due to the arduous task of bearing a child of a god? I understand, so I bestow upon her a fraction of my power, just a smidgen, and she will be well. Yet, why does she still appear despondent? She mentioned that she didn't desire the child. How dare she!? She cannot do this!!

As she attempts to flee from me, I lock her. Why? I lavish her with all the love I possess! She shouldn't even consider leaving me. Perhaps there is a shadow lurking in her heart, once more.

“Never mind, I will just shower my love again and she will come back to me.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Yunho ─ Prison

God of Revenge Yunho x Goddess Reader

"I know what you have done to me, Y/N." Yunho paced around, the sharp glint of the knife in his hand matching the disdainful look in his eyes as he gazed at you. "I saved your life, Yunho. You cannot do this to me." Your limbs remain securely bound to the bedposts, rendering you immobile. His grip on power was undeniable, unmatched, and you knew there was no escape from his clutches.

"Save me? Who manipulated my mind? Who imprisoned and tormented me, hmm? Tell me!" His grip tightened around your throat, cutting off your cries for help. The sensation of suffocation and agony overwhelmed you, your face flushing red and your chest constricting.

Recollections of yesteryears raced through your thoughts. How could you possibly have fallen for him? You, the divine being who monitored him, why have you been ensnared by his honeyed words? All of it was merely a ploy to lure you in. Aiding his escape from confinement. Alas, you, in your foolishness, fell for it.

Cough The grip around your neck relaxed and you gasped for air. "Just kill me, Jeong Yunho." You said weakly, tears cascading down your cheeks, unsure if they were from agony or despair. "How can I let you go like this? Isn't this too easy for you?" A sly grin playing on his lips. You could sense his twisted intentions.

He climbed over the bed and straddled on you, tracing the contours of your body with a sharp blade. The icy sensation of the knife's edge sent a chill down your spine, instilling a sense of unparalleled dread within you. Observing the fear etched on your visage brought him immense pleasure; he paused his movements on your chest, swiftly slicing through your delicate fabric.

Crimson droplets splattered across his face as he gestured, his hand dripping with blood. The amalgamation of agony and frigidity caused tears to well up in your eyes. "Does it hurt?" You hesitated to respond, fearful of what he might do next. "Answer me." You shut your eyes tightly as he pressed the blade against your neck, focusing on controlling your breath.

"Does my suffering matter to you at all?" "Oh, my dear. It most certainly does~ If you're not in pain, I'll ensure you experience even more agony." He murmured softly into your ear as his hand moved down to your abdomen. "But if you're hurting, I'll make sure you feel pleasure instead." Sat up straight, he untied his pants and sliced through the fabric of your gown from hem to neckline.

"What're you doing…?" You managed to stop him, but it was all in vain. "Forget what I said? Just make you feel better."

"AHH!FUCK!YUNHO!!" He entered you without warning, his size enough to overwhelm you. "Never take that big cock before? Poor pussy." he taunted. Yunho withdrew until only the tip of his member remained inside you, then delivered a sharp slap to your ass, hitting your most sensitive spot. "Fuck!!" Your toe curved each time his cock rubbed harshly along your tight wall. It was your first time, making you hard to adjust to his roughness.

Each jolt of pain caused your body to shudder involuntarily, your lips tightening as agonizing moans struggled to escape your throat. Yunho smirked with satisfaction, leaning in closer to you without missing a beat.

"Don't you say you want to be mine? And now, you can."

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Yeosang ─ Touch me, Taste me, Fill me up 

God of Breeding Yeosang x Human Reader

Whispers circulating throughout the city speak of the sacred water within the temple, rumored to grant fertility to women struggling to conceive. Little do they know, the holy water is merely a facade for the deity himself, disguised as a male priest. He selected his chosen ones, breathing life into those he deems deserving. Hidden within the temple walls, the god eagerly awaits his next prey.

You were forced into marriage with an oily old man due to your family's financial ruin. The old man demanded you have children, driving you to desperate measures of sedation or violence to escape his advances. But it was not a long term solution. He brought you to the temple, warning you threats of a fate worse than death loomed over you, should you fail to conceive and bear his child.

The sophisticated man reclined against the opulent throne, his demeanor exuding an air of refinement. "Come here," he beckoned, his voice laced with an unprecedented softness. You obediently knelt before him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the sight of his striking features.

"Tell me, my dear, do you desire to conceive?" Gently cupping your face, his thumb grazed your lips, applying a slight pressure. "I…" You found yourself captivated by his presence, rendered speechless. "Never, right?" He echoed your unspoken thoughts, causing you to flinch. "But what if the child is mine?" "What?"

"Don't worry, that man won't pester you anymore." He grabbed your chin to press his lips on yours. "It'll be good, I promise.”

“Ah~yeosang~oh my god~” The alluring moan caused a flush of embarrassment to spread across your cheeks, yet it also further inflamed Yeosang's desire. He folded you up as a mating press, penetrating even deeper. His powerful thrusting resembled an unstoppable force of nature. Every penetration delved as deeply as could be, forcefully meeting your tender flesh. The combination of pain and arousal left you gasping for breath, your exhilaration expressed through high-pitched cries.

“It seems that pig never fucked you, huh?" "Yah…yah…!" You enveloped him in your embrace, drawing him near to feel the warmth of your body against his. With each thrusting, the friction of your bodies created a thrilling sensation, igniting a new level of excitement. His cock nestled so deep in your cunt as if breaking through your limit.

Your nails dug into his back as he battered your sweet spot again and again. The numbness from thrusting made you reel and moan messily. “Gonna fill your pussy with my seed, it must be good.” He huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Keep squeezing my cock to make me cum?How thirsty you are.” Well, Yeosang totally forgot he was supposed to be elegant, gentle but not rough and dirty. Maybe his possessiveness was stirred up when he saw how that fat pig forced you to bear his child. No, he couldn’t accept this.

“Your pussy can only be fucked and bred by me, dear.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

San ─ Forbidden Lust

God of Desire San x Evil Reader 

A sharp thrust followed by another sharp thrust. The man behind you completely lost his mind in lust. Upon seeing you for the first time, he realized that the long-suppressed desires within him had been unleashed. You were more beautiful than all the goddesses in heaven; your deep eyes were like stars on a cold night, revealing a unique charm that seemed to see through the secrets of everyone's hearts. 

Maybe it was so-called Love at first sight. 

"Oh darling, you're amazing." His firm member slid against your soft walls perfectly as he moved his hips. A rush of warmth spread from your backside to your entire body, causing a tingling sensation as if electricity was coursing through your veins. "Oh goodness, please, san~" The sounds of moans and skin slapping reverberated through the room, mixed with your desperate pleas.

"I need more depth, need you to cum for me so badly." Flipping you over after pulling out, he thrust back in, hitting your sweet spot effortlessly. "Sannie~" Your arms wrapped around his head as he kissed your chest passionately. His breath grew ragged as his movements became more intense; he nibbled on your skin, leaving behind red marks; his wet tongue teased and swirled around your nipples, making a shy sucking sound ring in both of your ears. Arching your back, you gave him more access, allowing him to penetrate deeper, sucking harder.

He comprehended that you were exploiting his longing for you to attain your desires. After all, Evil despised God. How could there be love between you? But it didn't matter. You were all slaves to carnal desires and were prepared to challenge conventions and reasoning for them. You merely acquired what you required, it was a fair exchange.

You entered into a pact with your enemy, San. In times of need, mutual assistance was imperative, no matter when and where. Just like now, you found yourself  "helping" him. Who would have expected that a god would lose control of his emotions upon hearing the pleas of mortals? Although it couldn't be ruled out that it was because you were tempting him.

“Yes, y/n!” With a firm grab settled on your wrist, he drew back his hips and shoved into you at an incredible pace. Feeling how your chest shook from his movement and watching your fuck out expression were his favourite. He would never get tired of it. 

"Sannie~I'm gonna cum" Leaning back on the table, you felt overwhelmed by the sensation. Your body responded eagerly to his touch, guiding him to stimulate your most intimate area and bring you to the pinnacle by tightening your wall around his big, fat cock. 

“Cum for me, cum for me until you can't cum anymore.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Mingi ─ A toy

God of Ruthless Mingi x Human Servant Reader

"Who sent her to me?" You were on your knees, trembling, unable to resist locking eyes with the man standing before you. He was interrogating the man standing behind you. "This is the annual offering from humanity," he declared.

As Mingi caught sight of you in his peripheral vision, a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. Despite being presented as an offering, you were actually a spy sent by his mother, who harbored ill feelings towards him. Humans were easier to control than gods. And the main point was, your presence, in particular, suited his tastes.

Sigh "Send her to my room."His response caught you off guard, you never expected he would agree. "Your wish is my command." As you were escorted to Mingi's chambers after a bath, your heart pounded with a mix of fear and curiosity. The doors swung open, and you were ushered into a lavish room filled with opulence and grandeur. Mingi sat on a throne-like chair, his expression unreadable as he observed you enter.

"Okay, what are you gonna do to please me, Y/N?" You gracefully approached him with a seductive smile playing on your lips. Slowly, you positioned yourself on his lap, your touch gentle yet firm as you began to undress him. "Allow me to bring you pleasure, sir" you murmured softly, your hands working skillfully despite your nerves.

You followed the step in the book his mother gave you; you pulled down your sleeve to reveal your shoulder and your chest, leaning close to wrap around his shoulder and starting to rub against his thighs. A wave of warmth enveloped you, igniting a tingling sensation that traveled through your body, leaving you breathless. Your hips swayed in a circular motion, giving a hard press each time you moved so close to his crotch.

"Is it what my mother told you to do?" His unexpected statement startled you, causing you to freeze and gaze at him. "It's my will, sir…" Your voice trailed off. "So, am I to assume that you view me merely as your sex toy?" "I…!" Just as you were about to lower yourself, a strong grip on your waist prevented you. "Do not assume that I am unaware of your role as my mother's informant." You felt a surge of panic as you were caught off guard, struggling to formulate a response.

"It's not the way to please me." He shoved you as nothing before turned you over, harshly leaving your pelvis in the air. "Sir─" The coldness from behind gave you a goosebump as he ripped off your dress. "As a spy, shouldn't you know more about your target?" He thrusted hard in one go, making you shut your eyes tightly.

"Being a good girl and I will treat you better, understand?" "Yes, sir─" Before you could finish your words, he pumped into you without mercy. "AHH!!Please!Please!!" These were only words you shouted out before you passed out of pain.

Every morning as you awaken, your eyes are met with the sight of Mingi standing by your bedside, gazing at the aftermath of his destructive actions with a twisted grin. The excruciating torment that follows leaves you powerless to resist, futile in your attempts to uncover his vulnerabilities to fulfill the task of his mother.

You existed solely as a plaything for his depraved desires. He reclined beside you, running his fingers through your hair, brushing away your tears, all while wearing a chilling smile.

"You should be grateful to get a smile from me, Y/N."

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Wooyoung ─ Steal Your Heart

God of Trickery Wooyoung x Goddess of Poison Reader

How could a man capture the heart of his beloved? Well, just showed her how he loved her! Showering her with chocolate, roses, lavish gifts…just whatever she liked! That's what Wooyoung did in order to win your heart. He never imagined he would go to such lengths. He had previously scoffed at the idea of San falling for an evil, dismissing it as absurd. Perhaps San was simply consumed by his desires. Love was nothing but a fantasy.

Until you appeared in his life.

Every grin and scowl you display etches a lasting impression in his thoughts, one that is impossible to erase. Your enchanting allure captivates all who gaze upon you, as you exude an air of perfection akin to a flawless doll. The intensity of his infatuation and fixation on you has reached unbearable heights, as he yearns for you to belong to him and him alone.

Oh, he did not do anything out of line. He simply observes you discreetly from afar to grasp your preferences; he is aware of your favorite foods, preferred flowers, and even the specific sesame oil you use for bathing… No, no, no, he was not a pervert. He merely acted in accordance with the ways of a man in love. Was he mistaken? Absolutely not. Wooyoung always had faith.

Yet, you kept ignoring him. Why? Those delicacies were laced with a special concoction, designed to make you swoon over him. Haven't you ever eaten it? Something was amiss. He had to find out what happened.

Sneaking into your room, a wave of your fragrance enveloped his senses. How delightful it was to him. He was tempted to drift off to sleep on your luxurious bed, but he resisted the urge. Wooyoung traced the scent to the lavatory. Observing the pool water emitting a misty white vapor, he extended his hand and playfully toyed with it, creating a soft sound.

"Ah, why didn't I think of you having an antidote? How dumb I am." Wooyoung straightened up, his curiosity prompting him to search through your cabinet. He secretly casted a spell on all the sesame oils, so that you…

"For attempting to poison the Goddess of poison, should I label you as innocent or foolish?" Your voice caught him off guard, and he realized that you had been leaning against the door frame, observing his every move.

"You…you…" As you walked towards him slowly, your bathrobe slipped off, revealing your shoulders, causing him to swallow hard. You silenced his words with your finger on his lips, then brushing it teasingly. "I know the little tricks you've been playing."

He seized your wrist to push it away from his lips, then swiftly drew you into his embrace, causing your eyes to widen in astonishment. "Do not assume that I am unaware of your attempt to poison me, Y/n. It's a pity that you didn't notice something…I am a God of Trickery, remember?"

“Wh─you!?” You felt drained and collapsed into his embrace. He poisoned you?When…?Was it when you applied poison to his lips just now?"It's called payback, darling. Your attire, your sesame oil, everything." You could only observe as he sensually removed your garments, planting kisses along your chest. "It will be pleasurable." With one swift motion, he entered your cunt, causing you to arch your back in ecstasy.

Wooyoung pumped into you over and over again and his seed filled you full, making your head spin in messy but pleasure. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, caressing it with all his tenderness.

“You will be mine forever, only mine.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Jongho ─ Rose and Gun

God of War Jongho x Human Warlord Reader

The bloodthirsty God unleashed its wrath upon the earth without mercy; cities burned, the soil drenched in blood, leaving only pain and destruction. Resistance was the only way to save mankind; and you were the warlord who controlled fate. The battle against the divine forces swiftly ensued. Yet, feeble mortal assaults proved futile against God.

"Please, please, please…" Your body was suspended, arms restrained against the wall, and your soaked panties were thrown away somewhere. Despite your desperate begging, the figure before you remained unmoved by any sense of compassion.

"I am at my limit…" Your vitality waned, each inhalation draining you of what little vigor remained. Thrice have you reached the peak, yet the individual before you remains insatiable. "Aren't you the warlord? Endure it." As he knelt, his face disappeared into your nether regions.

"Jong…ho…Hmm!!" Jongho opened his mouth and gently engulfed your cunt, tasting your sweet juices like a delicacy. The soft touch of his tongue made you scream in delight. You arched your back, the overwhelming stimulation stealing your breath, leaving you with unstable sounds. He smiled and continued to kiss your sensitive spots.

"See? You're so wet, you know you want more." His two long fingers suddenly slide into your wet cunt without warning, causing a high-pitched scream to escape your lips. The pace was painfully slow yet deep as if he was teasing you. He curled his fingers and sunk down to the depth with different gestures while his tongue sometimes stretched in, sometimes curled.

With each moment of resistance, his anticipation grows, relishing the melodious chime of the restraints encircling your wrists. You could feel how he nestled so deep between your inner thighs; his nose rubbed and nudged against your clit, trying to slide his tongue deeper into your cunt. He pulled out a bit and pushed in slowly, giving a new sensation you had never experienced before.

As if he was not satisfied yet, he then started to move his head up and down at a quick pace, licking everywhere he could find. “Ahhh—” Your moaning encouraged him to fuck you, tease you rougher. He sucked your lip with such a force while licking and swallowing your delicious juices. “Fuck, it’s so sweet” His throaty moan were muffled as he totally buried himself in your lower core, replaced by meaningless syllables. Each vocalization caused vibrations that drove you closer to losing control.

"Please, my god…" Perhaps it was unwise to have dared to assassinate him so boldly, for then you wouldn't find yourself in this predicament. Nevertheless, the conflict has reached a standstill, and alternative measures must be taken… Little did you anticipate that he wouldn't end your life, but instead, steal your innocence.

"Cum, girl. You're delicious." His provocative words pushed you to the brink once more. Unable to resist any longer, you reached the peak with a passionate cry. "Forgive us for our defiance. We should have never opposed you…" You surrendered, feeling overwhelmed by intense sensations.

Standing up to meet your gaze, you were surprised to see how attractive he was with his face covered in your juices. He cupped your face with his hand while another hand guided his angry red cock to rub against your entrance. "Do you truly believe a mere apology will suffice?" He pumped into you with unbridled force, hitting your g spot dead on. Your mind went blank as a euphoric moan escaped your lips.

"Don't you know the consequences of angering the gods?"

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Full oneshot (M) (fake god series):

Yunsang|Eros paidikos ft. OT6

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

a/n: yeah hey~actually i want to write this series for a long time and now i finally finished it! First time writing a masterpost (im not sure is it masterpost tho) ahh maybe I will write more of this type in the future (?) of course i will keep writing oneshot (btw there are so many requests give me more time TT)

[elix8r]

it’s raining, it’s pouring

PAIRING: cheetah hybrid!mark x house cat hybrid!y/n

GENRES: hybrid!au, smut, angst, enemies to ?

SUMMARY: Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNING: meandom!mark, brattysub!y/n, profanity, y/n being really mean to mark, unprotected sex, manhandling, humiliation, degradation, anal, foot stuff, face-fucking, rough sex, overall filthy stuff

Up until three years ago, your life could be described as utter paradise. With Taeyong being the best owner you could ask for, and living in the coveted top-floor penthouse, you couldn't have any complaints. That was, of course, until your owner one day brought home another hybrid without previously warning you. Apparently, the previous owner of the cheetah hybrid was moving back to America, leaving him in need of a new home. Being the generous owner he was, Taeyong offered to take him in without hesitation (and without discussing it with you beforehand).

The moment Mark walked through the front door, your feelings towards the fellow feline were set, and they had yet to change. He was nothing but a nuisance to you, and despite being in the same cat family, he seemed to be nothing like you. You even attempted to paw at his ears many times before, trying to confirm if he really was a cheetah and not an overgrown puppy. However, each time, you would be met with cries and protests from him, while instinctively his claws extended, confirming that he was indeed a cat.

By now, Taeyong had accepted that you were never going to be best buds with Mark (though the latter still tried his best, despite knowing your response each time). In the beginning, he had hoped that you would get over your distaste for the boy and ultimately welcome him to the family, but as time went on and you showed no change of heart, your owner had to accept the reality.

Mark always took your food, bed, and even toys that were specifically given to you by Taeyong. He was an annoying presence in your life, who seemed to not get the hint that you wanted nothing to do with him. And as always, the exact thing was currently happening as you caught Mark rolling around and leaving his scent all over the new bedding that Taeyong had gotten for you.

"But yours is so much better! I just wanted to try it out, just a little, plus you smell good!" Mark's ears slightly folded down as he desperately tried to explain why you had found him sleeping in your bed.

"That's not my problem! Take it up with Taeyong if you have complaints and stop getting into my stuff. It's getting really fucking annoying and creepy you perv," you sent him a harsh glare, and your eyebrows furrowed in distaste as you could now smell him all over your sleeping area.

"Why can't you share? I mean, Taeyong always tells us to play nice and get along with each other, but no matter how hard I try, you never do! You're always so mean to me, and I don't even know what I've done!" Mark pouted, clearly upset with how you were reacting to him. From the beginning, all he wanted was to be friends with you, but you seemed to reject him at every turn.

"Why do I have to share if Taeyong bought it specifically for me? I mean, I was here first anyway. You should just be happy that Taeyong even took you in. Otherwise, you'd probably be one of those strays we always see outside. You should be thankful for what you got, so stop trying to take my stuff too. Anyways, get out of my room," you huffed towards your bed, barely giving him a second look. You knew that you were probably a bit too harsh with your words, but your annoyance took over, and you couldn't take back what was already said.

Mark was hurt and defeated. He knew there was no point in arguing with you so he nodded quietly and left your room and headed towards his, where he turned to his computer so that he would be able to take his mind off of you and focus on playing games with his friends.

"Bro, she's such a bitch. I mean, I don't know how you deal with her. I've only met her once, and during that time, she almost clawed my eyes out," his friend Jeno, responded sympathetically upon hearing about what had happened.

"Yeah, I feel bad for you, man. Me and Jaemin get along fine, so I can't even imagine what it's like living 24/7 with someone you don't get along with. Oof, it sounds like a nightmare," Haechan shuddered at the thought, and Jaemin nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just fight back and assert your dominance over her? I mean, you are the stronger breed. She'll have to respect you once you scare her straight. Use your predator advantages, and maybe she'll realize that you're not one to be messed with," Jaemin suggested, trying to help Mark find a solution. His words did intrigue Mark, and he had to admit that he had thought about what Jaemin was suggesting. However, he had hoped he wouldn't have to resort to using his powers against you and that you would eventually warm up to him on your own.

Typing and clicking noises filled the conversation for a couple of seconds as they all played online together. "Yeah, I guess. I'll think about it," Mark finally replied.

And think about it he did for the next few hours as he continued to play games with his friends. The topic of you didn't come up again as they were all too engrossed in their gaming. Meanwhile, Mark remained preoccupied with thoughts of you. He was so engrossed in the games that he didn't realize the time or the weather outside, something you were keenly aware of.

Taeyong should have been home by now, yet not a single sign of him was to be seen. You had been waiting patiently for your owner while spending time scrapbooking. Every once in a while, you would peer out your window to see if he was here yet as you were always able to predict when he would be coming in. But today, he seemed to be taking longer. The sky had been turning darker and darker, which laid an uneasy feeling inside of you.

It was quite embarrassing to admit, but even at your grown age, you were still deadly afraid of storms. You were unable to withstand them without the comfort of Taeyong nearby, and with no sign of him, you were becoming antsy. Where was he? Was he okay? These were all thoughts that ran through your mind as you went through all the scenarios of where your owner could be, but every single one led to a bad ending that you didn’t want. So you tried your best to get back into crafting.

Of course, that didn't last long as out of nowhere, a flash of lightning could be seen, followed by a clap of thunder so loud that it shook the house. You yelped out loudly as you felt yourself tremble. The lights flickered for a couple of seconds as rain could be heard heavily pouring down, and now you genuinely felt fear. There was nothing you could do except tuck yourself deeply under your blanket while hoping for the rain to settle down, but your wishes were in vain as there was no indication of it stopping anytime soon, and Taeyong was still not home.

You had already tried texting him and dialing his number, but it went straight to voicemail, which further drove you to worry. What if he had decided he had enough of you and chose to leave you? This thought, above all, made your stomach drop, and tears pricked at your eyes. Despite it being totally irrational and unwarranted, it was still a possibility and it scared you. Suddenly, another thunder could be heard, which once again instigated a whimper out of you. Without fully realizing what you were doing, you found yourself walking towards Mark’s door.

You weren’t sure that you had ever knocked on his door purposely, but here you were knocking. Laughs and talking could be heard from inside the room and you wondered how he wasn’t bothered by everything going on. While you frowned while trying to pull your blanket around your shoulders tighter, the door finally opened and revealed a confused Mark.

You looked absolutely terrified, which was not a look he was familiar with despite living with you for about three years now. You were visibly shaken and your eyes were wide with fear. Instantly, Mark was concerned.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" His brows were furrowed as he noticed you on the verge of crying (though you weren't sure if it was because of the storm, the absence of Taeyong, or even the embarrassing fact that you came crawling to Mark's room).

"Have you heard from Taeyong?" Your usual catty tone was nowhere to be found as you asked with a soft voice.

Until now, Mark hadn’t realized that his owner had not come home when he was supposed to, but at the realization, he too became worried. "No, I don't. I guess I just realized that he hasn't come home yet."

His response made your eyes widen. It was hard to believe that while you were worrying in your room, the thought of Taeyong hadn't crossed Mark's mind even once. "What do you mean you didn't realize? I know he's been coming home later recently, but not this late! I mean, haven't you seen what it's like outside right now? Where is he?"

It was obvious that you were beyond stressed, and even without smelling you, Mark could feel anxiety radiating off of you. It was indeed storming terribly outside, and now Mark was becoming worried knowing that Taeyong was out there. But seeing your state, he came to the conclusion that it would do no one any good to have the both of you freaking out.

"Hey, I'm sure he's fine. I bet he's just waiting out the storm at his work. Why don't you come in here and wait together for him?" His words did not do much to ease your tension, but you did oblige (if it were other circumstances, you would never agree to enter his room, but desperate times called for desperate measures).

"But why isn't he answering my calls then? He knows that I hate storms, and I can't go through them without him! Mark, what if he's never coming back?" You had plopped yourself on top of his bed, eyes wide and lips quivering.

Mark sighed. "Y/N, now you're being ridiculous. Why would he just abandon us? He's probably not getting a signal or something more reasonable."

His dismissive response lacked empathy for your concerns, and you were now shedding tears. "What do you mean more reasonable? I think my concerns are valid! Maybe he's tired of us fighting all the time! I mean, we haven't been the best for him, and I know he's been having a hard time with us. It’s possible that he had it with us and just abandoned us to run away!"

The concern he previously felt was now gone as your dramatic rant slowly started to irk him more and more. Everyone knew that you were the main instigator of your fights, always being unfriendly towards Mark, so to have you group him with you had him scoffing. "You mean more like you were not being a good hybrid like you should have been. I mean, you're the one always instigating fights. I try my best to deal with you, but you're so bratty. Honestly, I'm surprised Taeyong's been able to deal with you this long."

Throughout the three years of living with Mark, you could only count a handful of times that he responded to you in such a manner. He was usually mild-mannered and overall just nice, so hearing this from him had you shocked. It was such a switch and instantly, you could feel his annoyance towards you in the air.

"Ma-Mark, what do you mean?" Your cries had yet to stop, and Mark rolled his eyes at you. Were you that dumb that you hadn't caught on to how frustrated Taeyong had recently been with your behavior? Taeyong was usually very tolerant, but even he was having a hard time with you.

"Jesus Y/N, are you seriously that stupid?" Even Mark was shocked at how he was talking to you, but this pent-up anger towards you had been a long time coming. He had been holding it all in, trying to be as good as he can to you despite your actions towards him, but now he was reaching a boiling point. He was beyond annoyed, and maybe this cold hard wake-up call was needed for you to start behaving better.

"I'm not stupid! Who do you think you are to talk to me like that, you fucking bastard?" You tried to sound strong while defending yourself against his harsh words, yet the tears seemed to not stop. Frustratingly, you got up to further confront him, but to your surprise, his hands came up around your neck and forced you back on the bed. Clearly, your words had further driven him to anger.

It was clear that Mark was angry. He had never put his hands on you this way, and in response, you were also fuming. How dare he put his hands on you? "Get your filthy ass hands off me!"

Mark didn't listen, though, as he pushed you further into the bed and hovered over you. His eyes held a fiery rage that you weren't sure you had ever encountered, certainly not from Mark. No trace of your bravado could be found, and for the first time, you cowered in his presence. Chills ran down your body as you felt his tail moving all over your bare legs. Amidst the fear you felt from the feline, another emotion bubbled beneath your lower belly.

Never in a million years would you have expected yourself to be turned on by Mark, but here you were, unconsciously purring in response to his actions. The once sweet and amiable Mark was gone, and this new version of him that showcased himself in front of you was one that you couldn't help but find yourself incredibly attracted to. Alas, you realized that you, just a common domesticated house kitty, were no match for the fast and strong beast that Mark presented himself to be.

"You know I've been quite understanding toward you. I put up with your attitude for three fucking years, yet here you are, still not realizing how much of a spoiled and ungrateful little kitty you've been. Despite taking all your shit, here you still are with the audacity to be in my room and still be a bitch when I nicely allowed you in to comfort you. It's obvious Taeyong hasn't been doing a good job taming you to be the nice house cat you're bred to be. But enough is enough, and clearly, the soft approach isn't working, so I guess I'll have to be the one to straighten you out."

And with that, he pressed his lips against yours roughly, making his intentions clear that he wouldn't go easy on you. Teeth clicked against each other and as the kiss deepened, you found yourself caught between conflicting emotions. Maybe, you did deserve this, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a part of you unwilling to surrender to Mark's dominance this easily.

His hands roughly dragged themselves all over your body as you panted heavily against his lips. In an attempt to take charge, you wrapped your legs around his waist, intending to twist him around and position yourself on top. However, his quick instincts kicked in, and he caught on before you could even execute your plans. He immediately pinned you under him again.

"Tsk tsk, I told you. I'm in charge today, and that little move you tried to pull on me is going to cost you now," Mark growled, and all you could manage in response was a small whimper. Your body struggled to adjust to not being the one in control.

His hands were burning hot as they hurriedly moved to strip you of the only article of clothing that you were wearing. It was a large shirt that engulfed you, and most days you had no issue with it being the only thing you wore around the house. You found it to be the most comfortable and unrestricting for your tail, allowing you to move freely without any discomfort. However, if you had been made aware beforehand of the situation you were currently in, you would have reconsidered.

Being fully bare in front of Mark while he was still fully clothed made you feel hot in humiliation, but you fought against your impulse to cover yourself. Instead, you held your head high and maintained unwavering eye contact with the male feline before you. A devilish smirk ghosted his pretty face as his eyes started to move down, unashamedly wandering all over your naked figure and taking in every curve, making sure to not miss a single spot.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was stern and Mark could feel his pants get tighter and tighter.

“What if I don’t want to?” You coyly eyed him, still stubborn and unwilling to give in as easily as you knew Mark hoped you would.

With a firm grip on your chin, he was clearly losing his patience with you. "Don't make me repeat myself again. Get on your knees," he demanded with less composure than before. Reluctantly, you complied, but your gaze held a sparkle of mischievousness, indicating your satisfaction at successfully getting under his skin.

Your hands moved at a tortuously slow speed as you undressed him, knowing that it would be more fuel to the fire already ignited within him. This cat-and-mouse game you seemed to be dragging Mark into was entertaining you like nothing else before. Any previous anxiety and worry you had regarding Taeyong were not even thoughts in your mind right now, as you were fully occupied with pushing Mark to the edge. Pissed-off Mark seemed to be your favorite version of him, and it was a shame that it took three years for you to be graced with its presence, but better late than never.

You must have underestimated Mark though as you suddenly felt pressure on your clit. His foot had flexed up roughly against your pussy reminding you of who was in charge. You were biting back your moans as he seemed to have no plans of moving his foot while you finally got his pants off. Yanking his underwear down with the pants, his dick instantly freed, almost smacking your face.

"Fuck, Mark," you marveled at the sight. Even from the day you met him, you couldn’t deny (no matter how much you wanted to) that Mark was beautiful, but now it was fully confirmed that he was indeed absolute perfection.

With his cock glistening and tip pulsing red, your ears twitched as you felt yourself getting even further dazed with arousal. Your hands hesitantly wrapped themselves around his length and you heard a small groan release from within him. Your hands were incredibly soft and nothing compared to anything Mark had previously experienced. The slow strokes became increasingly faster and with wide eyes, you inched your head towards his slit before tentatively dipping your tongue in his slit.

“Shit, keep going.” He instructed and you could hear his breaths get more erratic the more you started to use your tongue.

You ran your tongue over the underside of his shaft before returning to his head wrapping your mouth around it. Mark was insanely receptive as you could feel his tail once again swiftly moving around your body the further you sank down his length. Once you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, you started to guide yourself back and forth, adopting a steady pace. Your hands moved to work in tandem with your mouth around what your mouth couldn’t reach.

With hollowed cheeks and reddened eyes that stared straight into his, just the sight alone could have him cumming. His hand rested gently against the back of your head and as he felt more and more pleasure, his hips started to penetrate deeper into your mouth. Then all of a sudden, Mark felt your teeth gently scraping against his dick which instantly had him harshly grabbing a hold of your hair and ripping you off his length.

Your head was pulled all the way back, almost straining your neck, but the only thing you could do was giggle at his reaction once you saw his face. With a stern warning he gave you with his eyes, you were shoved back down his cock with even more force than before. He mercilessly fucked your mouth and your claws dug deep into his thighs, yet he couldn’t care less. Deep grunts and lewd noises of you gagging and choking around him filled the room as tears drenched your face. You were sopping wet by now and in attempts to find some relief, you grinded down against his foot.

“Fuck, almost there,” he moans, and with one last deep thrust, you feel spurts of his cum painting your throat.

You try your best to swallow his load, but it’s too much as some seep out from the corner of your mouth and after what seems like forever, Mark pulls you off of him. Deep gasps come from you as you try your best to catch your breath, but it seems like he has no intentions of stopping as you’re quickly yanked up from the floor and thrown on the bed.

“Look at this,” Mark held your legs open wide as he examined your drenched pussy. “I mean you were grinding against my feet so fucking hard. You liked getting off against my feet? Fucking nasty whore. I mean that’s fucking embarrassing how desperate you are”

“Fuck, off.” You angrily spat out while you attempted to close your legs. It was indeed humiliating that Mark was making you feel and act like this.

He smirked at your words, "Oh yeah? You really want me to fuck off? Cause I will, I mean I already got my fix, no need to continue on." Panic instantaneously coursed through you at his suggestion to leave you like this, and without hesitation, you desperately reached for his wrist, holding him from leaving you.

"Wait, no. Mark, please," you begged. You knew he was getting off on this control he had over you, but you couldn’t really care less. There was only one thing you wanted right now, and you would do just about anything to get it.

“Why? I don’t owe you anything. All you’ve ever done for me was treat me like shit. Maybe you should’ve been a better kitty then.” You were losing your mind the more seconds went by he wasn’t touching you.

“Please Mark, I’m sorry.” Your eyes welled up, frantically begging for him. “I’ll do anything, please. I promise.”

As sadistic as it was, Mark couldn’t help but absolutely love seeing you like this. You looked helpless and desperate. “Anything?”

You furiously nodded. “Yes! Anything, Mark. Please, touch me. Use me!”

“So you’d let me choke you or do this?” He pinched your nipples hard and despite the pain, you continued to nod. “What about this? You like this?” Mark’s hand traveled down to your tail and tugged on it. Tails on hybrids were known to be off-limits to others as it was one of the most sensitive parts of your body so to have Mark do this to you was not only demeaning but also overwhelming, but you still nodded.

“Hmm, maybe you really are willing to let me do anything. What about here? Will you let me use it?” His thumb rubbed against the rim of virgin hole. You’ve had sex plenty of times but never had you ventured to have your rear penetrated.

Your already widened eyes grew even bigger at what Mark was insinuating, clearly taken aback by the feeling of his thumb. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but this didn’t necessarily mean that you were against it. Slowly, you nodded, letting out a soft whine at the new sensation that you were growing to enjoy.

“Please Mark, give me anything.” Your answer clearly satisfied him as he moved to rest his cock, which had hardened again, on your heat.

Smacking the head of his dick against your clit had you loudly moaning and without warning, he fully plunged into you, giving you no respite to adjust to his hard length before pounding himself into you. Squelching noises filled the room and while you would have most definitely been embarrassed if this was any other scenario, you were a little too preoccupied with screaming Mark’s name loudly as you felt indescribable pleasure.

Mark seemed to be sharing a similar sentiment to yours as he also let out loud moans and grunts as he continued to snap into you. You felt heavenly, so warm and tight, almost as if you were made specially for him and if he could, Mark would want to stay buried inside of you for the rest of his life.

“Ngh, so good! Please don’t stop!” You were practically screaming as your claws sunk themselves into Mark’s back in an attempt to hold onto something. You were incoherent and babbling all sorts of things.

Suddenly, when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, you felt the rough pads of Mark’s fingers roughly rubbing themselves against your engorged clit. Instantly, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and it didn’t take long before you felt as if the Earth was stuttering on its axis as you came.

Tears poured down your pretty face as you sobbed, but it seemed as though Mark was not through with you. Swiftly, he flipped you around, yanking your tail up, which had you shrieking in sensitivity. Your ass immediately perked up while your body slumped forward, completely at his mercy.

“Look at you, so pretty in submission.” You could hear him smiling as he teased you. He admired your pussy, so puffy and glistening from your orgasm before gathering your release onto his fingers and spreading them on your unbreached hole.

All you could do was gasp against your mattress at the sensation, clearly aware of what he was trying to do. Slowly, he prodded his finger into the hole, testing the waters on how you would react before going further. You were trembling against his finger, mewling out as your hands tightly gripped the sheets on his bed. The mix of vulnerability and excitement overwhelmed you, and you couldn't deny the pleasure that was slowly building within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, I’m barely able to get this finger in. How’re you going to be able to take my cock princess?” Quickly you whined back at his words.

“Mhm, I can ugh, I can take it. I promise.” You’re barely able to breathe out before you went back to being a moaning mess as Mark started to move his finger around.

Mark loved how receptive you were to everything he was doing to you. Deciding to try another one, he slowly slid another finger into your incredibly taut hole. You were clenching hard around him, but the second his hands wrapped around your tail again, you seemed to loosen up, which gave him room to scissor his fingers around.

“Please, just put it in. I need you, Mark please!” Your patience was waning and while you appreciated his attempts to loosen you up, knowing that it was not only your first time but also due to his substantial size, you were tired of waiting and now just wanted him in you.

Mark didn’t need to be told twice and he quickly yanked his fingers out before positioning himself on your pulsating hole. He gradually pushed into you and instantly, the tightness around his head had him rolling his head back. As he pushed himself further into you, your whimpers got louder as your back arched further to get closer to him. It was painful and an unfamiliar sensation, but the pleasure outweighed any other feeling and you were determined to take him all.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight around me babe.” Mark mused as he finally sunk all of himself into you before pausing for a second to take everything in. Then, he started to rock himself at a slow pace before adopting a steady pace that was comfortable for both of you.

Once again, lewd sounds of moans and pants filled the room that was potently covered in the scent of sex. Your body quivered against his with his tight grip was the only thing keeping your body from fully slumping over. As you felt yourself loosening up, you felt Mark quickening his pace as he was now pounding relentlessly into you. His balls were harshly slapping themselves against your sensitive clit and you already felt yourself coming close to releasing for a second time tonight.

“Keep going, I’m close! Don’t stop!” You pleaded and it seemed that Mark was also coming close to combusting as you felt him tightly gripping your shoulders to give himself more momentum to thrust into you.

Ringing in your ears came first before everything seemed to cut to white noise as you felt yourself convulsing. You weren’t even sure if you were even awake, let alone alive as the sensation continued. As Mark continued to slam into you, chasing his release, he felt spurts of wetness coming from you. You were squirting and at the realization, Mark instantly came. Ropes of his cum painted your inside and when he finally pulled out, the sight alone was filthy and absolutely porn-worthy. Your hole continued to clench over nothing and his cum slowly seeped out creating an image that Mark knew he would have forever ingrained in his mind.

You had gone fully limp on the bed, with only small twitches giving an indication that you were, in fact, still alive. Mark had completely fucked you into oblivion, and not a single ounce of your previous bratty attitude seemed to have withstood as you didn't even bat an eye when Mark wrapped his arms around you both, trying to recover and catch your breath.

“Guys, I’m here! I’m so sorry, the rain had everyone—what the fuck!” Out of nowhere, the door to the room slammed open, showcasing your owner standing drenched from the rain and sporting a wide smile that quickly disappeared at the sight his two hybrids were found in. Shit, both of you had totally forgotten about Taeyong.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy birthday mark lee love you sm and stay rawr xd <3