#beyond the seaside

[octoagentmiles]

hello. even more episodes I think should happen. I am coping with the lack of S3

the fact that the main series never had an episode on sea slugs is a crime actually

they literally threw the fact that Natquik has a twin brother and a little sister at us and left it at that. like um exCUSE ME??? COME BACK HERE–

Calico Jack Messes Up™. no further comment.

I NEED a "Kwazii and CJ"-style episode but with Barnacles and Natquik. put those nerds into a situation.

I want a Peso and Tracker episode, because it's clear to me that Tracker's arc is just the same one Peso went through in the main series; regarding his confidence and trust in himself, etc etc. and I'd love it very much if they made a callback to a Certain Episode. and I think it's funny when voice actors talk to themselves (they have the same uk va)

I think Barnacles, Kwazii, and Tweak all deserve to individually hang out with each other's parental figures at some point. (ie: Barnacles gets an episode with Calico Jack/Ranger Marsh, Tweak gets Natquik/Calico Jack, etc.)

musical episode

I love musical episodes so much and I need a Kwazii/Calico Jack duet SO BAD YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW–

more Min and Inky pls

Barnacles and Tracker. brothers real. put those nerds into a situation 2.

speaking of siblings: I think we as a society deserve more Shellington and Pearl content

also, @/silvergate, we would all like to see a certain family of polar bears, tyvm.

I think Calico Jack should meet Pinto, Koshi, and Peri because of so many reasons actually:

Kwazii definitely gets his love of baby creatures from him

Pinto would be so excited to meet a real famous pirate

Koshi would be able to tell if he lies about anything. she'd take one look at him and figure out his whole deal right away.

Ranger Marsh should meet them too, because he is The Father Ever™ and his instincts would immediately engage upon seeing them, I know this.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬

summary: after facing embarrassment from Aegon’s intrusive visit, Sylvi helps Aemond find attraction with someone closer to his own age. [aemond x fem!reader] [wc: 5.0k]

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), hand job, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism, aemond’s abuse by her is not tolerated here 🙂‍↔️, HotD themes.

quick links: masterlist | gif credit: @seaside-storm

The sounds of the Silk Streets in the early hours of morning were not for the faint of heart.

You had grown accustomed to them over the years of your residency—the noises, the people, the actions and wants of those who seek the services of an establishment like the one Sylvi ran.

It was not your proudest achievement; not one you’d shout from the rooftops but one that kept the food on the table.

It wasn’t hard. It was sex. And you learned to enjoy it with what little freedom was left when the coins were tossed and your body was aching.

Between your fingers one of those coins twirled absentmindedly as the curtains of your bedding swished at the retreat of your latest payer. There were seldom benefits from the occupation you took up yet the pay, after years of understanding and learning, had grown exponentially.

And the coin that tossed between your fingertips was enough to put food on the table for a few days; enough to buy a dress or to get passage to another town.

It was a reward for service you did not mind.

Sylvi had taught you what you needed to know. How to move, how to pleasure. She helped you determine what felt good and what would feel unpleasant to both you and a partner.

But she had her transgressions far beyond the positive.

One of them stalked the building in a fume.

The laughter that had propagated such anger left an hour ago but the remnants of the jesters stuck heavy in the air. They opened curtains and made spectacles of the givers and the receivers; they stared too long at you in the nude to make you feel at ease.

In the distance, you heard your name called yet you continued to flip the coin.

Aegon, the King as he was now, was no friend to the servants of pleasure. You consider yourself fortunate that he never sought you—as desirable, as insatiable, as you were.

It saved you from a world of hurt from a man as fickle as he was.

Although his reputation preceded him and the ire that still held itself like a cloud over the house was from his head, his brother, Aemond, was a welcome guest.

Though he too was someone you had not laid with either.

He had never lingered far from the woman of the house.

“Y/N.”

Said woman pulled back the curtain of your bed roughly. Against the pillows and covered in a robe the color of a midnight black, you lazily gazed at her.

“Did you not hear me call?” Sylvi asked impatiently. Her irritation was stinging.

“I was busy, Madame,” you responded loosely.

You arched your back and with it came cracks of relaxation. It felt good after being holed up in your bed for two hours.

“You know how Dornish men are,” you informed her. “That one was quite… spirited at this late hour.”

“What happy news for you,” she panned before nodding her head in the direction of her usual hideaway. “I seek a favor.”

“A favor?” You questioned with a mewl.

“It is for the one we do not speak of.”

Sylvi’s eyes gave you a warning. Aemond Targaryen… the one who fumed.

She had never asked for a favor regarding the Prince before and it intrigued you. It would fall a lie if you spoke of never having imagined what a man like him would be like in your bed.

He was a magnificent creature.

Tall and carved from the marble of a great sculptor, Prince Aemond was no stranger to the gazes of the pleasure folk. The way their eyes shined and pupils grew large, you were surely one of them.

It did not hurt that he was no more than the age you were now and had not yet taken a wife.

It was silly, however, to imagine a whore being the wife of a Prince. He had barely sparred you glances when he visited.

Dreams. That is all that it would remain.

“And you seek me?” You questioned, dropping the coin on your clothed stomach.

“I have a proposition for you,” she clarified. “One that will pay you well for your service.”

“The receiver is willing?”

“Yes.”

Her alcove was far nicer than yours.

Lavish with silken pillows and warm candlelight, it was near romantic if you forgot the circumstances of her actions. It smelt of lavender and oils; the kind she wanted throughout the establishment but could only create the corner she wanted here.

It was the first time you had been invited into the space.

Sylvi walked around you as you stood just inside of the curtains. She held the tassel of her robe between her fingertips, swinging it gently.

“We do not speak on what happens here, understood?” She asked you.

“I understand, Madame.” She nodded her head in approval.

“Good,” Sylvi affirmed.

On a ledge behind the bed, she grabbed a small sack of coins and tossed them to you. It landed with a jingle at the edge of the bed.

With delicate hands you grasped the strings and pulled open the bag to see coins worth the entire building. You dropped it, looking at Sylvi with wide eyes.

“T-This… this is far too much,” you scoffed.

“It is what the Prince offered,” she spoke as if the currency was nothing more than what the common folk paid.

There had to have been 10 gold dragons inside of the pouch.

The total jostled you.

You had long understood that the job you took on was ill-inspired. The money you had made was reasonable and never made you feel ashamed to take it.

But this… the currency enough to buy twenty horses; enough to buy a home or sail to Essos with no intention of returning… it did bring shame.

“And for such a currency what does the Prince expect of me? I will not be humiliated—“

“I have no intention of humiliating you.”

The voice cut through glass.

Behind you, with the curtains of Sylvi’s bedding swaying to a gentle close the man of her proposition appeared. You turned around with your mouth agape from the inability to finish your thoughts and as many mortals had before, your mind ceased its thoughts.

He was ethereal, otherworldly.

And he was fully nude.

You stuttered stupidly to greet him.

“P-Prince Aemond,” you managed. “I apologize. I did not intend to speak out of turn.”

He hummed, observing you as you did him. You straightened your back at the sensation. His eye piercing and cold—in a room basked in warmth he was not the bringer of it. Aemond let his mind roam the faults and perfections of your body and needn’t say what it was aloud.

He trusted Sylvi in a twisted way. If she said you were right for the job, surely she would not steer him wrong.

“So,” Aemond’s eye flicked to Sylvi. You took the opportunity to observe the blue gleam of the sapphire that filled the vacancy of his other.

“This is she?”

She introduced your name to him and his eye met yours.

“And the terms have been accepted?”

“They have, My Prince,” you spoke without hesitation.

“Aemond,” he clarified. “You are to call me Aemond.”

You tried his name on your lips and it was breathless. As his eye stalked your body, he took the initiative to take the step forward. The understanding of your willingness emboldened him to bury his brother’s words.

He was seldom humiliated but the reasons he flocked to Sylvi were different from the ones he sought from a willing companion: to release and forget.

Aemond approached you with soft steps and it was suddenly difficult to remember how to breathe. You held your breath, waiting, as his arm extended to you and his fingers brushed the fabric of your robe along your collarbones. He traced the skin with his fingers, along the edges of your robe as the delicate lacing became rough under his fingertips.

He was testing the waters.

You remained focused on his face as your heart rate began to increase. Every thump faster aligned with the draws of his fingers; long and nimble, softer than the men you were used to on days as long as these.

He was fluid and natural. There was no scared boy inside of him, but the hardened man he wanted the world to see.

Sylvi rounded her bed and you were reminded that she was still there as she looked at you.

“Touch her, Aemond. Touch her as you do in your dreams.”

At her command, his hand stilled. You half-thought her demands had sent him into a spiral of regret. Perhaps he would apologize for his lustful responses, scurrying away and back into the pit of dragon’s he came from.

Instead of listening to her in haste, he asked you a question.

“Where are you from?”

You were taken aback but remained stoic. Your job was to put on a performance no matter how surprising his words felt. No patron had ever asked you about, well, you.

You were nothing more than an orifice for their wanton needs.

“Honeyholt,” you responded quietly.

“Not far from Oldtown,” he commented, tracing the lace but never touching your skin. His hand grazed it until he reached the knot of your robe.

You shook your head, “no.”

“Did you enjoy it there?”

“It was far less exciting than King’s Landing.”

“May I?”

You had never had a patron ask permission before either.

You felt like a girl being dotted on. It was a strange feeling, one that had turned so drastically from a mere thirty minutes before—being treated like a doll to be thrown from one to be pampered… it was not what you were expecting.

“You may, Aemond.”

His finite hands worked the knot swiftly to let the robe fall open. When it did, he let it sit there for a moment as he took in the shape of your breasts underneath the fabric, he could see the mound of your pussy, and the way you stood completely still in wait.

He felt powerful when he normally felt meek.

Sylvi had been right. He did need this.

Aemond could feel the woman’s eyes behind him and whether they were on himself or you he would not know, but he felt them heavy.

He took his hands and pushed the fabric from your shoulders. It pooled around your feet in one push.

You breathed in deeply, nipples pebbling at the coolness now meeting you.

It was obvious, however, that your mere body was not enough to rouse him to hardness. If you spent anymore time watching him as he watched you, the sun would be up and his duties would call him away.

“Touch him,” Sylvi instructed you. “Do not be afraid.”

“I am not afraid,” you responded to her but did not look at her. She took a seat on her bed as you moved to stand toe to toe with Aemond.

“May I touch you?” You asked in the same voice of permission he had given you.

“You may,” and he said your name with a weight hearty on his tongue.

With his permission you reached for his right hand and placed it on your breast. His timidness was beginning to show through the hesitancy of his actions. The slow grip on your breast slowly became more comforting the more time he took.

“It’s alright,” you whispered as though Sylvi was not there and you were alone with the Prince. “You can touch me.”

You felt more pressure from his palm. Drawing your own hand to his chest, you began to feel the outlines of his muscles. Aemond was lean and fit, skinny but not sickly.

Each muscle was tense under your touch. He shuttered a breath through his nose and your hand recoiled in the slightest.

“I apologize,” he spoke as lowly as you had before. “I have not been with another in a long time.”

He had not been with another other than Sylvie in a long time, he meant.

“I can be slow, My Prince.”

“Aemond,” he corrected you.

“Aemond,” you said sheepishly in your forgetfulness.

“I do not need you to be slow.”

You nodded in reply and placed your hand back on his chest. You followed it down until you began to broach the zone in which your talents needed to please not only him, but Sylvi also.

If you were a disappointment, there would be no clothes nor food nor horses nor castles in your future.

“Then I will not go slow, Aemond.”

He hummed, intaking a breath as your fingers gently, kindly, fluttered over his cock. You looked up at him with your eyes hooded, eyelashes batting and he thought for an instance that no woman had ever looked at him that way.

Sylvi hadn’t and it awoke something with him.

You began to work him with your hand as he let his hand fall from your breast and brought it up to the back of your neck. He massaged the space briefly before holding onto you with a tighter grip.

In your hand he began to show himself to you. Growing in length, you licked your lips in anticipation and swallowed the bug that formed in your throat.

“Aemond,” you questioned as you stepped closer. You parted your legs to stand between one of his and he stopped you only by moving his other hand to grip your chin.

He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

The feel of your hand on his cock was enthralling. So smooth and soft, gripping him in hardness at the right moments but never suffocating and never hurting.

“Yes?” He was near breathless.

You took his response with no words but a shifting of your hand. You left his shaft and snaked your hand to his balls, cupping them the best you could. His staggered breath brought a small, sly smile to your lips as he gripped your chin tighter and his eye narrowed.

“Would—“ in his grip, you could barely get words out. He changed his positioning to hold both sides of your neck. “Would you like to see what I can do with my mouth?”

“It would be a waste to not,” he grunted when your hand put pressure on his balls.

He released your neck and watched as you sank to your knees obediently. In your position, he was reminded of the good and pious that prayed to the Seven. Your eyes were so innocent but your mind wicked; your hands were pleasurable and your words soothing.

It was a change and it was working for him.

You sat with your knees apart, feet against your backside and heels digging into the flesh. You ran your hands down your body as he watched you delicately before running your hands up his legs and resting on his upper thighs.

Placing a soft kiss on one of his thighs, you worked yourself toward his member as it beckoned you. You grasped the base of his cock with your hand, placing a sweet kiss on his ever-swollen head.

You let saliva gather at the front of your mouth and let it dribble out and onto his cock before taking him with your mouth.

Aemond was heavy on your tongue. His warmth was sending electricity from your mouth to your core; you felt the throb of want begin to pool at your center. He took both of his hands and placed them at the top of your head but did not push. He did not force and he allowed you to escape when you needed to breathe.

But he was in another world.

Never had he been taken in such a way but his mind liked playing tricks. It was not his first and when he thought back on the times he had been pleasured as such it was not as enjoyable.

Yet, he forgot her stares and focused on you. A woman closer to his own age and one that had a system of morality of questions and seeking answers in regards to pleasure.

You took his extended gratitude and kindness and returned it with your own.

With every pull of your mouth, you filled the space with what your mouth couldn’t take with your hand. You squeezed at his base and it made him see stars. In your vision you could see him watching if you looked up.

How his blue gem gleamed at you…

As you turned your head and used your salvia and some of his pre-cum that began to leak to wet his shaft, you moaned at the sensation. It sent you tingling, drawing a hand away from his thigh; you brought it between your legs and began to rub circles on your clit.

The wetness gathered quickly. You shut your eyes as the two parts of you, mouth and cunt, were being used to your own delight. As you opened them again, Sylvi caught the corner of your eye.

She rubbed herself over her clothes and you halted. Hand retreating from your body in an instant; the salvia that had gathered landed on your thigh with a splat and your hand loosened what held onto him. Aemond let one of his hands fall loosely beside him as he looked up and kept focus on the wall in front of him.

He needed to change. He had asked her for this change for his own sake and it was time for it to happen.

“Sylvi,” Aemond muttered absentmindedly.

“Yes?” She prompted as if he were to ask her to join the two of you. Her tone made you nervous but he never let his other hand fall from your head.

She went to remove her own robe but he stopped her with a turn of his head.

“Leave us,” he commanded.

Slyvi paused her hands against her body, dejected at Aemond while her eyes bounced between the two of you.

You, your hand still on his cock and your lips barely kissing it. Him, with his hand on your head and mind completely taken by you.

“Aem—“

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He asked her calmly. His heart beat so fast at his strength. Never did he believe he’d be able to breakaway.

“No,” she rose from the bed and made for the entrance.

Your breath was hot on his dick when she stopped again. For one moment Sylvi waited for Aemond to call her back but she was met with silence; a heavy weight of agony as she stood there and received no reply.

It was her retreating footsteps that brought relief to your bones.

Aemond’s other hand returned to your head.

“I did not wish for her to watch us,” he informed you.

You looked up at him from your spot on the floor. Along your chin were remnants of spit or spent, he wasn’t certain. All the same, he took a thumb and gathered it from you. He brought the thumb to his mouth and sucked the gathering from it.

“I did not either.”

“Good,” he hummed. “Now get on the bed.”

You needn’t be asked twice.

Aemond refrained from touching you as you rose from the floor and sat on the bed. Once you were seated, he leaned down to grab your ankle and pushed back on your shoulder to lay down. The message was received quickly and you laid back and brought your other leg bent beside you.

You were completely at his mercy. Your walls clenched around nothing when he ran his hands over the skin of your legs. You extended your arms above your head; feeling the soft silk pillows and coolness of the sheets below your body. The sensations were overwhelming.

“I’ve never been with a woman like you before,” Aemond’s hands roamed further, pulling you down on the bed to meet his body but not entering you.

“And what kind of woman am I?” You sighed contently.

“A kind woman.”

“How do you know me to be kind?” You asked him.

One of his hands feathered the skin between your leg and lips. They grazed it again and this time, running his fingers through where you wanted him most. A selfless breath left your lips.

“Your eyes are kind,” he bent down to lay a kiss on your knee. “There are not many kind eyes here.”

He stuck one finger in, followed by another. Your hand reached for the pillows quickly, back arching at the sensation. You once thought his fingers to be long and nimble but they were much more. You felt them so clearly and cleanly.

They reached within your walls; touching the plushy skin as it grew in wetness and emitted slick sounds of pleasure.

Once he felt you were ready, he wanted to test his third finger.

“Gods,” you stuttered out as his third finger slipped in and it became so quick. He was running away with himself as the sight of your pleasure overtakes him.

“F-fuck.”

The words continued to fall from your lips as he picked up his pace. His fingers moved in and out, in and out, and then a rapid succession of moving them up and down. Your body trembled at the noises. The wet, squelching sound of a mess too far gone.

He may not have been as experienced as other men, but he had ruined you for all in the future.

“That’s it,” he whispered against your thigh again. He bent down to watch you writhe at his actions. “What do you need from me? Hm?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you panted. “Just you Aemond.”

“Just me?” He murmured. “What of my cock? Do you want to feel me inside of you? Finish inside of you?”

The idea sent you spiraling. You imagined how his cock would feel longer and thicker than his fingers. How it would plead against the spot to make you come undone.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I want to know what it feels like.”

He removed his fingers to grasp his length in his hands. Aemond pumped himself briefly before lining his head up with your entrance, gripping your hip as you stayed splayed before him.

And then he slid in.

Seldom could explain the moment but you had seen stars. You saw the galaxies spoken of by the Maester’s and worlds beyond your own. There was no feeling but him filling you so fully and totally.

He shut his eye. The blue sapphire still glittering in the light; Aemond saw peace grow with a gasp. Everything in his mind went blank with white noise. All he could hear was himself as he sheathed himself inside of your warmth with a simple push. He filled you until he could no longer.

It was sinful to feel so good.

He held himself there for a minute. You wanted to sit up, hold his body close to yours and feel his muscles contract under your touch but stay as pliant as possible.

Against your convictions, Aemond leaned forward and cupped your cheek with his hands. It was entirely intimate for a man you had just met.

But his touch lingered lifetimes. It was as if you knew him forever, and this singular moment was one of plenty.

Stilled inside of you, his thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“May I kiss you?” He asked promptly.

You moved your hips in a roll to urge him to move, wrapping your legs around his torso and arms around his shoulders. His lips brushed against yours.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid himself back in.

You nodded your head the best you could against the sheets and he ticked at you. His nose nudged yours, your lips begging to be touched but he neglected them.

“No,” he cooed. “I need you to say it. Say you want me to kiss you.” Again, he slid out, back in and your hips met him there.

“Kiss me, Aemond. Kiss me, please.”

Pushing his cock deeper into you, your mouth fell agape and he used the opportunity to capture his lips with your own, swallowing your moan and losing himself in your intimacy.

He never thought a woman like you could make him feel so selfless.

Aemond knew nothing of you but felt everything. He needn’t understand the pieces of you to feel the rewards of lust and anger spilling out of him.

His mouth is so warm and wet. Aemond’s tongue danced with yours as your whimpers became gasps with the jacking of his hips into you. Your hands are bruising on his shoulders; grip tight and breaking had you been a stronger woman.

Aemond broke his kisses and moved his hand to your neck. His thumb put pressure on the bottom of your chin, pushing your head backwards and sending your spine arching.

If he took you any further, you’d split yourself in too. You mewled in pleasure and he let out a low chuckle, eyes low and observing as he pounded his cock in your pussy faster.

“Oh,” one of your arms shot up above your head and he took his other hand, the one not on your neck, and intertwined your hands together.

“Do the others fuck you like this?” He hummed.

“No,” you called into the air. “Not everyone is as good as you, My Prince.”

As your eyes met his, you felt your heart exploding. No one would ever hold you like this again. No one would know you in the secrets you shared here—so open and viewable yet shroud in the comfort of veils.

You like this. He knows you do. And fuck, he does too.

“You like being held like a worthy lady,” Aemond purred. “Like you’re not a whore.”

“You like being strong when they underestimate you.”

His hand around your throat tightened but didn’t suffocate you. Aemond’s fingers that intertwined with your own stayed together as he changed his speed. Slowing down and drawing his dick out to the tip and stuffing you again, he snickered.

“You are not weak.”

“No,” he narrowed his eye. “I’m not.”

“In here,” you groaned. “In here you can be anyone, Aemond.”

He knew it to be true.

Instead of responding with a smart retort or a scathing comment that would rival one of his brothers, he nodded his head and let it fall in the crook of your neck.

Within you, his solemn romanticism built a fire. It was aching; clenching your walls around him as your breaths became more heated and laced with a finish. His skin on yours glistened with sweat the more strenuous your meetings became.

You were holding onto a thin string when he lifted his head again and planted a kiss on your lips.

So personal, so intimate from what you were used to.

“I-“ you barely got a syllable out before your body shook with your orgasm hitting you like a brick through a glass window. Aemond removed his hand on your neck to grip your back as your body lifted from the sheets.

Your cunt had his cock in a vice. So tight and smooth with your wetness, he felt the stuttering sensation of his own building in a quick anticipation and as the shaking in your legs began to lessen, he pulled out of your pussy without warning and pumped himself before spilling his spent on your stomach.

Your eyes saw stars on the ceiling of the brothel. Aemond kissed between your breath as his fingers swiped through his cum. He drew a line from your stomach, between your breasts, and to your lips. You took his fingers covered in him into your mouth and licked him clean.

Once there was nothing left, his wet fingers palmed your breast with a sigh. You untangled your combined fingers and gingerly outlined the bottom of his scar.

He leaned into your touch absentmindedly before eagerly kissing you again.

Aemond would never confess why he did it.

It was an urge he had never felt; built in the emotions of his mind as he was wrapped in your kind embrace and away from the world that had created the cruelness that lived with him. You were not cruel. You were good and a sanctimonious creature at his alter of wavering faith.

You revived him.

And he barely knew you.

When he pulled away, you brushed a hand over his disheveled hair and smiled.

The feeling within him was foreign but it was hungry. He hungered for the bubbled nature of want that brewed in his bones. Aemond sought the feel of your hands on him and the way you settled in his motions without complaint or verbally assuring him what he was doing was “good for him,” when in reality, he knew it was not.

So in turn, when you smiled, so did he.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you.

[gender-euphowrya]

you don't know how much i hate all the bitches that see unusually sweltering weather and temperatures we should Not be reaching at this time of year and go Ahh So Nice Let's Go To The Beach Yay Sunny Days 🌞

it's not nice it's a fucking bad omen for the future of the planet you and i have no choice but to live on. it's not fun it's terrifying. i am begging you to switch your brain to long-term consequences mode

[cremedensada]

yandere ocean spirit. sometimes appearing as charming young man who listens to the stories of the townsfolk with genuine interest.

sometimes appearing as a lovely lady walking down the shore and helping the kids collect the prettiest seashells.

and sometimes appearing as an elegant individual, whose beauty surpasses beyond gender, always found half-submerged in the ocean - long hair cascading down towards the ocean and it doesn't look like it seems to end? like it just blends with the ocean somehow.

torn between following you wherever you go, abandoning his life as a spirit just to be with you like a dog follows his owner; or, dragging you to the depths, in a secluded cave hidden somewhere underneath where she can have you all to herself.

calm waves becoming turbulent and harsh when a boat comes close to where she's got you hidden - fearing that the people might find you and steal you away from her.

yandere ocean spirit who causes the greatest storm the seaside town has ever experienced, a tsunami the people are ill equipped to deal with as you tell them you're going back to the city. who swears they'll wreck havoc to every single city in their wake, flooding and tearing every building down wave after wave if you so much as leave them behind.

promise him you'll stay with him, and he will keep the water placid and safe for the townsfolk. their lives are in your hands.

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ ɢᴏᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 10 dollars on a dare leads you to break one superstition that changes your life forever. you begin to learn secrets tied to your family and upbringing, at the cost of your freedom. who is this mysterious Anshumat, and why does he want you?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, kidnapping, choking, reader gets called a bride once

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,418

⭒ a/n: yan sea god was inspired by an Indonesian myth called Nyi Roro Kidul! it's a really interesting legend if you want to learn more abt it ^^ also.... man tits...... meow..

will you venture down this path?

growing up, you would stay over at your grandmother's house every summer. her beautiful seaside cottage made the perfect accommodation for a family getaway. throughout your childhood, the superstitious old woman restricted you from doing specific things. rules like never whistling at night, don't open an umbrella indoors, etc.

you'd eventually found out that these were just scare tactics for children to make them listen. but there was one rule that your grandmother seemed to fear the most, a rule that never made sense... never wear white to the local beach. and when questioning her about the rule, she'd tell you the same story every time.

"long ago...

a cruel serpent god who once ruled these waters would rise from the ocean and into the islands, devouring innocent villagers and destroying temples along its path.

the gods and humans were furious at its actions. fed up with the destruction and death, they prepared a plan to thwart the serpent; a binding curse.

the serpent was cursed to spend its days rotting in a hidden island, where it was accompanied by its servants. it was also tasked with granting blessings to sailors passing through the rocky tides, where it weighed the sins of each individual to seal their fates.

but over the decades... the serpent grew bored and lonely. through a loophole, the serpent found a way to abduct humans. you see.. the serpent loves the colour white and pearls. so much so, it would use its voice, so alluring, to lure the poor victims who happened to wear such things. and once in the water, the serpent would drag the human to its temple where they would become its slave.. or worse...

its spouse."

here you are today, telling the same tale in front of your young niece and nephew. "well, that's one way to get bitches." your nephew, Keona laughs. a scoffing Kehlani adds on, "nah, who would want to marry an overgrown slimy snake?"

"hey now, take that shit to grandma. she just assigned me to be your storyteller," you shrugged. "and this story has a real reasoning behind it, ok?"

"what? sexy sea snake destroying villages?"

"no, it's so that little rascals like you..." you drill both your index fingers onto their foreheads, "are easier to find if you ever get lost at sea."

how did i end up here...

facepalming yourself, you sigh. you were disappointed in yourself. how'd you let those little punks reel you in a dare? where was the self-respect? the dignity? seriously, breaking your grandmother's number 1 rule for what? 10 dollars?

you walk along the shore while wearing a flowy white shirt and neck encased in one of your mother's pearl necklaces. the dare was simple: successfully walk down the shoreline without chickening out and boom— an extra 10 dollars into your wallet.

you'd prove to the twins that you weren't scared of a little bedtime story. buuut just in case you did happen to go missing (for reasons that are totally not hungry sea serpent related), you brought essentials in a bag, left a letter for your family, and are currently being watched by the twins.

laughing at yourself for the paranoia, you nearly reach the edge of the walk until you hear a feminine wail from between the hidden rocks. is someone hurt? the sound was coming from beyond your finishing point so it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

signalling the twins to come over, you bend down to their heights, "listen, it sounds like someone's in trouble past those rocks. so I want you both to go grab the first aid kit and call Officer Holden over, 'kay?" they nod and scamper off into town.

approaching the rocks, you peek in to find a naked... mermaid?! observing her, you notice the torn skin on her iridescent tail and warily walk over to her. "uh... hey? hola? salve? hallo? i'm ah— good human! no... nooooo bad.."

you notice the air seems to smell... sweeter?

the woman looks up at you from the sand with pleading eyes, "please— please help me! my name is Coralie, my master, he—"

"woah, it's ok! you're safe, help is coming. uh, your master? did he do this to you? are you an underwater criminal?!"

a distant melodious voice interrupts you. Coralie's previously pained face now warps into a sinister grin as her wound disappears. she crawls towards you as your vision fogs up and your knees buckle to the soft sand. the song lulls you into a deep sleep, your body now being pulled into the shallow waters.

you awake to the bright rays of sunshine and lungs filling in with fresh air. but the next in your line of sight knocked all the air out of your body again.

the luminous, barely-clothed body of an unknown man sat above you. his 9'7 self relaxed on the marble throne, with 2 pairs of eyes fixated on you. what the fuck is that?

you gawk at him, "holy mother of god..."

i'm not dreaming, am i?

his gaze shifts into amusement, "wrong. we gods do not have mothers. we were created."

"you're a... a god?"

"is it not obvious enough from my appearance? would you like to see another version of me?" the towering deity begins to warp into a feminine body as if it was melting and moulding itself. "is this preferable?" her new voice is flirtatious, genuinely curious.

then, she tries to warp into a third body. the transformation looks more painful than the one prior, it barely shifts halfway into a gruesome beast before returning back to its first body. he huffs while grasping his golden collar, "this... is not my original form. I have been cursed, long ago, to never set foot on human lands. this island is both my kingdom and prison."

you shakily stand up the marble floor, now noticing Coralie standing beside the throne with a pair of legs. slowly processing his words, you piece together the clues from his story and your memories of the abduction. this couldn't be...

"you are.. you're the sea serpent god! I can't believe grandma was right— shit, shit shit—"

he smirks at your panic, "correct. I am Anshumat; shapeshifter deity of the raging tides, granter of safe travels—"

"murderer and enslaver." you complete.

Anshumat roars, "correct again! you're on a strike, dear y/n. though trust me, my servants are treated well."

"..how do you know my name?"

"oh you poor thing, granny never told you? I know everything about you— a name is barely anything."

"told me what?"

"she used to be my cupbearer. until she escaped with that bastard traitor. isn't that right, Coralie?"

she nods, "yes, master."

"please sir, let me leave. my family— they'll search for me! I have a cat at home! I haven't even finished my favourite show.. so please..." you try to list more life goals.

he chuckled, "oh you are so amusing. and why would I do that? we've barely just been engaged, dear."

"what do you mean engaged?"

"I've been watching you since you took your first breath on earth, y/n. so imagine my surprise— to see you wrapped up in my favourite colour, like a pretty bride. you're my sacrifice."

fear tingles your spine, "wait, that was just a dare! i didn't really mean it!"

"doesn't matter. you will be my pearl."

"no! I have a family, a partner—"

"i said... it doesn't fucking matter." he slams his fist against the throne arm, "and you'll be seeing the head of that twat soon enough."

you don't give him a glance before you're turning your back and run down the staircase of the grand temple. careful not to trip, you focus on the flight of stairs, painfully aware of the loud footsteps approaching behind you. it doesn't take a second for Anshumat to pull on the collar of your shirt and slam you onto the staircase.

he sits atop you, lower region heavily grinding against your stomach. "get off me! don't you have hundreds of other options?! why me?!" you scream.

his bedazzled skin blocks your view of the sun, furious eyes glowing under his shadow, and sharp teeth bared into a snarl. "you do not get to leave me again. you will stay, and worship me. this island will be our eternal paradise."

large hands pressing against your throat, you struggle before darkness begins to cloud your vision.

"this time, you will live."

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ first night back I iwaizumi hajime cw: afab! reader, dirty talk, oral (receiving) disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 521

the first night iwaizumi was back in japan for good was surprising, to say the least. it was one of the few times where he didn’t have to cram a year’s worth of dates in two weeks or soak in your presence because he wouldn’t be able to see you for the next couple of months.

the plan was for him to stay over in your new tokyo apartment for a couple of weeks. he claimed that it would be a closer drive and it’d give him time to figure out when he wanted to go back to the prefecture. the added bonus of seeing you every day, even if only for a short period, was enticing enough for someone who spent the majority of the last four years calling the love of his life. so, as any loving partner would, you had assumed that he’d be tired from his roughly ten-hour flight from california to japan based on all his planning. the sheets were just changed, his favorite scented candles were lit and you made sure to cook up a feast for when he arrived home. you went above and beyond for his trip back. one thing you didn’t account for was that he missed you—in more ways than one. ”fucking missed this pussy,” iwaizumi groans to himself before he buries his face between your thighs. he eats you out like a starved man, your clothes strewn on the kitchen floor the moment he saw you. ”haji,” you whine, short pants escaping your soft lips as you gripped his hair. for all the things you had prepared for, you didn’t expect him to be needy as soon as he landed. ”nobody even came close to how gorgeous you are, baby,” iwaizumi says, pulling you closer to his lips as you grip the island counter. “can’t believe i was away from you for this long—god, i’m gonna fuck you every night.” ”haji,” you moan louder, throwing your head back in pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. your body gets warmer—you’ve never seen your boyfriend this desperate and you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t turning you on. ”yeah?” he whispers, planting quick kisses on your thighs before looking up at you. “bet you missed this dick, huh? fingers just weren’t big enough for your pretty cunt.” you nod, biting your lip as you take a proper look at him. his eyes were blown with lust, his voice husky with need and want—a tone that you haven’t heard from him in far too long. you felt yourself get wetter at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. iwaizumi knows that he looks good, he’s tan from the seaside sun, he’s in the best shape of his life—and there’s nothing more dangerous than a man who knows how attractive he is. ”’s okay, princess,” he replies, giving you a boyish smile that only makes your heart stutter and knees buckle. “gonna make you feel so good that you’ll feel me inside of you for days, alright? jus’ let me spoil my girl.”

✩ author's note: me when i cut it off right before they get down and dirty </3 I SWEAR A FULL FLEDGE TOE CURLING SMUT IS IN THE WORKS ... in the meantime, enjoy a (potentially) part 1 drabble on pussy starved iwa! ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Well I’ll Be Damned

Label Mature 18+

Summary Even though Major Gale has been captured in a war camp, it doesn’t stop him from being located and receiving letters from back home. One day, amidst the routine stack of mail, he receives an unexpected letter scented with a familiar perfume. The letter ignites his passion for his love back home, rousing him and giving him hope amidst the bleakness of his captivity.

💝Romantic Smut 💝 lovelorn•edging•handjob•ejaculating •semi private

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Gifs @seaside-storm @mads-nixon

Well I’ll Be Damned

Major Gale awoke from his bunk and prepared for his mission of the day. He was stationed on an American base in Germany far from the comforts of his base back home. The barracks were cramped, each soldier allotted a narrow bed with barely enough room to store their personal belongings. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and metal.

Once showered and dressed Gale dug into to his rucksack at his bed and pulled one of your letters. It was one of his favorites when you teased him about a lingerie set you had purchased. As he unfolded the paper the picture of you wearing it untucked from the page. He looked over it with a smile before tucking it into his breast pocket.

Your professional portrait was always tacked into the windshield frame of his aircraft, serving as a constant reminder of you. But this one was special he looked at it almost every night.

On this particular day, he carried the lingerie photo with him instead of leaving it on base, the weight of separation from you feeling heavier than usual.

You had both written each other as frequently as possible, just as you had promised. Despite the distance, your words were a source of comfort for him in the midst of uncertainty. As he headed to the tarmac for another transport mission the longing for home weighed heavily on his heart.

Major Gale inspected the exterior of his plane before takeoff, a ritual he followed religiously. As a superstition he ran his hand along the hull feeling the smooth surface where previous bullet holes had been plated and painted over. The scars of past battles served as a reminder of the dangers that awaited them in the skies.

His men greeted him as they loaded into the aircraft, their expressions betraying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each one understood the risks they faced, but their determination to complete the mission remained unwavering.

The mission over Germany promised to be just as dangerous as those that came before. With a sense of foreboding gnawing at his insides Gale felt a tightness in his as he sat his pilots seat and placed his hand on the hull taking a moment to let it settle.

His copilot’s concerned inquiry broke through the silence, “You alright, Major?” He asked. Gale’s response was stoic but strained, “Yeah I’ll be fine.” He reassured him.

As Gale buckled into the pilot’s seat the weight of the impending danger pressed down on him. Despite his attempts to shake off the uneasiness, it lingered casting a shadow over his thoughts. With a steely resolve he performed his preflight checks but each motion reminded him of the risks that awaited them in the skies above the enemy.

He gazed at your picture nestled in the seal of his windshield and traced his finger along it the last of his set rituals before takeoff. It was a moment of quiet reflection amidst the chaos of preparation, a final connection to you beyond the confines of war. With a lingering touch, he silently drew strength from your image, a reminder of the love and support that awaited him on his return.

As they took off that day, the roar of the engines drowned out any sense of impending danger. Major Gale’s crew had become accustomed to the risks of flying over enemy territory, but today, their luck seemed to have run out.

With a sudden jolt the aircraft shuddered violently as enemy fire tore through its metal frame severing cables and rendering the engine useless.

Major Gale’s heart pounded against his chest as he wrestled with the controls trying desperately to stabilize the plummeting aircraft. Amidst the deafening cacophony of gunfire he barked orders to his men his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of hope.

“We’re in a controlled descent. Let’s hope we make it across the border. Prepare to bail!” he yelled his words tinged with urgency. His co-pilot guided the men through the cramped cabin ensuring each one was securely fastened into their parachute harness.

As the aircraft continued its descent Major Gale made the split-second decision.

“Bail out! Now!” he commanded his voice unwavering despite the imminent danger. With practiced precision his men leaped from the aircraft their parachutes unfurling like giant billowing sails against the stormy sky.

With his last man safely away Major Gale took a deep breath and prepared to make his own exit. With a swift motion he left the controls donned his parachute and flung himself from the doomed aircraft. The rush of wind whipped against his face as he hurtled towards the earth below his senses on high alert.

As he descended Major Gale scanned the landscape for a safe landing zone. Spotting a farmhouse nestled amidst the rolling fields below he adjusted his course and steered towards it. With a practiced hand he deployed his parachute feeling the reassuring tug as it billowed open above.

Overshooting his landing Major Gale crashed through the front door of the farmhouse and through the kitchen colliding into the stove sending pots and pans clattering to the ground. His heart was still racing from the adrenaline-fueled descent.

His abrupt entrance startled the inhabitants. A Mama and Papa who stared at him with a mixture of fear and anger.

Amidst the chaos in the kitchen, the Mama’s cries filled the air accusing him of being a Luftgangster a ‘terror flyer’. The Papa fueled by anger and fear for his safety grabbed a nearby pitchfork and joined his wife in the kitchen.

As Gale lay on his back, attempting to calm the situation in broken German with his hands outstretched, the Papa approached him and raised the pitchfork threateningly. Desperately, Gale tried to convey that he meant no harm, that he was merely a soldier caught in the chaos of war.

With a tense standoff in the cramped kitchen, Major Gale slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, using the other to unhook his parachute to show he was unarmed. The Papa, still wary but sensing no immediate threat, allowed Gale to stand.

Backing out of the ruined kitchen onto the porch Major Gale turned to look over the field in search of any of his men, instead he was met with a chilling sight. The horizon was dotted with German soldiers converging on his location. With a sinking heart he realized the grim reality of the situation they had been discovered by the enemy.

As German soldiers closed in Gale’s mind raced, his thoughts consumed by the harrowing prospect of captivity. Despite his best efforts, he was no match for the overwhelming force of the German soldiers and soon found himself being dragged away, his fate along with his fellow soldiers captured nearby now in the hands of his captors.

War Camp

In the grim confines of the POW camp, Major Gale found himself thrust into a world of harsh realities and stark contrasts. Surrounded by towering barbed wire fences and guarded by soldiers whose cruelty seemed endless Major Gale and his fellow prisoners faced each day with a mixture of resilience and despair.

As he adjusted to life in captivity, Gale was struck by the surprising quaintness of the camp’s conditions. The barracks though sparse and cramped, resembled dormitories rather than the grim cells he had expected. Wooden bunks lined the walls their mattresses worn thin from years of use. Despite the grim surroundings companionship flourished among the men, their shared experiences forged bonds that went beyond the confines of their captivity.

Amidst the bleakness of his surroundings a glimmer of hope flickered within Gale knowing that the American army was aware of the imprisoned US soldiers. They sent food and supplies frequently keeping the men fed and healthy. The realization that they hadn’t been forgotten lifted his spirits and renewed his determination as he endured.

Days turned into weeks and he even began receiving letters from home once the military confirmed his location as a prisoner in the camp. It fueled his hope dramatically especially the heartfelt ones he received from you in the US.

Each word penned with longing and affection became his lifeline amidst the harsh realities of captivity. He longed for your touch, your voice, your presence to soothe the ache in his heart.

Each time he received one of your letters his heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands he would retreat to his barrack, finding solace at the table inside as he read every word as if it were a precious gift. But it wasn’t just the words that lifted his spirits. Nestled within each envelope was a picture for him a beacon of light in the midst of darkness.

Despite the hardships of his captivity, Gale always responded to your letters with stoic resolve his replies reflecting his strength and determination.

One afternoon as he received his stack of letters, a surprising one stood out among the rest with the scent of perfume. As he opened the envelope the faint smell of your aroma gently filled the air exciting him. He began reading the letter slowly, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read the contents. A departure from your usual tender words the letter was filled with daring and provocative sexual language.

Quickly closing the letter Gale felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart was pounding in his chest. Undeniably aroused by the unexpected turn he carefully stored the letter away for later that night, eager to indulge in its contents in the privacy of his bunk.

After the final count and the lights out Gale waited until the cabin fell silent the only sound the soft breathing of his fellow soldiers. With practiced stealth he climbed out of bed and made his way to the window, the moonlight was casting a radiant glow across the room.

Opening the window he let the cool night air wash over him a welcome feeling from the stifling confines of the barracks. Then with anticipation, he climbed back into bed, his heart racing as he retrieved the letter from its hiding place under his pillow.

In the soft glow of the moonlight Gale unfolded the letter once more his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. As he opened the pages an unassuming photo of you slipped from its confines, falling into his hand.

He gazed at the new image and a sudden rush of warmth flooded his senses. Your hair had grown longer, framing your face with a natural elegance. Your eyes were bright and expressive and your skin glowed with a healthy radiance as a gentle smile played on your lips. The image of you made Gale smile in return. He traced the contours of your face with his thumb lingering on your eyes and lips feeling a deep connection despite the distance.

He then pressed the letter to his face inhaling deeply. The scent of your perfume on the paper was a delicate reminder of your presence momentarily transporting him away from the grim confines of the camp to a place where he felt your warmth and love.

He glanced at the photo of you in his hand again noticing its unusual thickness compared to the others, he felt a flicker of curiosity.

As he began reading your letter, the anticipation for the provocative words built within him and by the time he reached the explicit part, his pulse was racing with excitement.

—“I had my best friend set up this photo for you Gale, she saw me fully nude and everything. Then I took risqué photos of her to send to her man of war too. Quite the little harlots we are as you would say, but I’ll tell you more about that later. I tacked the naughty photo to a harmless one and put it in this letter. I plan to send you more, I want you thoroughly satisfying yourself while you’re away from me.”—

Gale’s eyes widened in shock as he looked over at the photo in his hand, quickly setting your letter down on his stomach. He carefully peeled the photos apart, revealing one of you fully nude underneath.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked meticulously over your form; every curve and contour seemed to come alive in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming from the window. His eyes lingered on the gentle slope of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the elegant line of your legs, with his gaze pausing at the thin patch of hair between your legs making him overcome with sexual desire.

The realization slowly dawned on him that he wouldn’t have to rely on the lingerie photo of you anymore.

Gale felt a surge of arousal coursing through him the longer he stared at the image, his length already hardening just from the mere sight of you. Every inch of your body seemed to captivate him, igniting a fire within that made him feel alive in the bleakness of captivity.

Gale’s breathing grew heavy as desire surged through him, his body responding instinctively to the tantalizing image before him. He reached down and lowered his pajama pants and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free in anticipation.

Grasping himself firmly at the base, he picked up your letter once more, the paper slightly crumpled from his earlier excitement and he began to read again.

—“Before I penned this letter, I want to tell you what you made me do to myself, and your hand better be on that large of cock of yours as you read it Buck.”—

Gale chuckled you knew him all to well. He read your words with eagerness as he began to stroke himself knowing you planned to make him finish as he continued:

—“I laid in bed fully naked for you, trailing my hand over my body as I looked at your handsome picture. I pretended it was your large hand teasing me, imagining the warmth and roughness of your touch. I rested your photo down beside me, your image captured in my mind. I closed my eyes, picturing you above me, your strong body pressing against mine, your breath hot on my skin. My own fingers became your fingers as I traced delicate patterns over my clit, each touch a tantalizing prelude to what I imagined you would do. When I pushed my fingers inside myself, it felt as if it were you, each thrust igniting a fire of desire within me. As I lost myself in the fantasy of you, the intensity built until I was writhing with pleasure, and finally, I orgasmed, your name a whispered prayer on my lips as waves of ecstasy washed over me.”—

Gale dropped the letter on his bed, already fully stroking his erect cock. His head rested back on the pillow as he tried to stifle his soft sighs. He imagined, instead of your fingers, he was plunging his cock inside your tight walls, recalling how he could make you moan so loudly you would wake the neighbors.

His hand moved faster, his jerking becoming almost violent, each tug bringing him closer to what he wanted. His strokes shortened and his grip tightened, and he began making quicker, more intense movements. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

With his free hand, he reached down to gently cup his testis squeezing them to add an extra layer of stimulation. He alternated between firm and gentle strokes, his breathing growing more ragged. The image of you, lost in pleasure, fueling his arousal. He increased the pace, his cock slick with precum, the friction driving him wild. His hips bucked instinctively, pushing into his hand as if he were inside you.

Gale’s soft sighs turned into low groans, each one more desperate than the last. He could almost hear your voice, whispering words of encouragement, spurring him on. The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his movements became frenzied. His hand moved in a blur, every nerve in his body focused on the growing sensation in his groin.

Finally with a sharp intake of breath and a final forceful stroke he felt himself tip over the edge. His body tensed and he released with a powerful orgasm, his cum spilling over his hand and stomach. He continued to stroke himself through the aftershocks, his breaths coming in heavy, ragged gasps, the intensity of his release leaving him momentarily lightheaded. Gale lay there spent and satisfied with the lingering image of you in his mind comforting him in the darkness of captivity.

He removed his shirt using it to clean his cum from his hand and stomach. Then with careful hands he folded your letter back up along with the pictures tucking them both securely under his pillow.

He quietly slipped out of his bunk, now shirtless, and closed the window, ensuring everything was as he left it before he settled in for the night.

As he lay back in bed, he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. The release had brought him a rare sense of peace. Thoughts of you swirled in his mind as he slowly interlaced his fingers over his abdomen, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

The familiar ache of longing was soothed by the intimacy of the moment he had shared with your image and words. With his eyes closed he allowed himself to drift into a deep sleep.

That night, Gale slept more soundly than he had in weeks. The comfort of your love wrapped around him like a warm blanket, chasing away the cold harshness of captivity. His dreams were filled with vivid images of you, your touch, your voice, your presence. In his dreams, he was in your embrace. The peace of his slumber showed the powerful connection he felt for you even from afar, giving him the strength to endure.

🪖 END 🪖

🏷️ Always Tag Me List 💌

@burnthheparaphilia @abswifey @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade

[misswrittenword]

A Trolls Fee.

Male!Troll x fem!human ~ "I need to pay to cross this bridge?", p in v, oral (fem and male receiving), no protection, breeding kink (I have issues), degradation, boinking in broad daylight on a bridge, so there's exhibitionism, grumpy monster and mildly confused but enthusiastic girl, brat, dom. use of good girl, whore and slut, praise.

Excuse any grammatical errors :')

This was your third day on the road. Your bustling little seaside village had been brutally raided, and you had fled in the night. Having no family, you had only friends to mourn, but part of you was glad. Plus, who knew, maybe they made it out too. Your thin leather sole shoes scuff along the well worn path as you drag your feet, desperate just to make it to the next village in this forest.

So far you had been getting by on strangers kindness, people letting you sit in the backs of their wagons among hay and bags of goods. You were thankful for them, sure you wouldn't have made it far without the help. Unfortunately no one had offered you a ride today, so you were left to set your own pace. If it kept up like this you would stay in the next town, you decided. The woods around you were beautiful, and you began to daydream of soft beds and filling meals until you come upon a river.

Well, it was a small river, with a stone bridge arching gently between the two banks. You stop and tilt your head, staring at the well built cabin not too far from it. That was weird, you'd never seen a home so close to a bridge before, but then you hadn't seen many bridges. Having lived your whole life on the sea, you were mostly unfamiliar with the forest and how things operated. Maybe it was a caretaker?

Moving forward again, you wonder briefly if they'd let you rest for the night here. But the second you set foot on the middle of the bridge, a deep, booming voice has you jumping in fear and stopping dead still.

"Halt!" A masculine voice bellows. "You must pay for the right to use this bridge, wanderer."

You look up at the looming figure standing several feet in front of you and are shocked beyond measure. Faintly, you recall hushed stories of monsters in the woods, but you never expected to come across one.

A dark grey skinned man.. monster.. glares at you. He is hulking, arms and legs thick, shoulders so wide they strain under the linen shirt he wears. His nose is charmingly large, and small tusks poke out of the corner of his mouth. He screams masculinity, and you fear he'd be able to snap you in half with those deliciously huge hands. He has short black hair, and his ears are lined with golden rings.

"I... have to pay to use this bridge?" You whisper, looking positively caught off guard. What is he?

The monster scowls at you, "Speak up!" He barks.

You frown, crossing your arms under your boobs and you repeat yourself, louder and with a firm tone. If he wanted to act like a tough guy, you would too.

"And who the hell are you?" You demand. He eyes you up before beginning to stalk towards you, and you realize just how huge this being is. He's almost two heads taller, and the shadow he casts on you allows you to stare up into his strangely handsome face.

"I am Rhazin, troll of this bridge. Only those who pay my fee may pass." He grunts, peering down at you.

That seemed like a bit of a scam to you but you state your name nonetheless. "I have not a coin to offer you. Surely you have heard of the burning in Locklord Cove, I fled from there many days ago." You state, hoping that your pitiful story would stir some kindness in his heart.

Oh, how you were wrong. "There must be something else we can do."

The troll places his hands on his hips, and slowly looks you up and down. Under his heavy gaze, you suddenly realize that you likely have hay in your hair and are wearing a light cloth dress, something to keep you cool during the heat on the beach in your old home. Something that does nothing to hide your soft plush body or the swell of your breasts.

Your cheeks flush prettily, as Rhazin begins to circle you slowly. "You're a very tempting looking morsel. I bet you're delicious."

You glance down at the growing tent in his trousers, and realize with a mix of shock and arousal that the only thing stirring in this troll is his cock.

Despite the blush on your cheeks and warmth in your belly, you keep your eyes on him, and raise your chin. "You want to fuck me? Speak plainly, beast."

You were no virgin after all, but still, you were playing with fire. Yet... the idea of this monster taking you made your jiggly thighs squeeze together instinctively. And you wanted it rough.

He bares his teeth at you, "I am no beast, wanderer, but I may use your hole like one if you don't watch your tongue."

A smirk graces your lips, "You're all bark and no bite."

Eyes darkening, "Is it a deal then? Your body for your fee."

You nod your consent.

Rhazin wastes no time in grabbing you, ripping your dress and under garments from your body cruelly. You gasp in shock as the creature begins to palm your ass while he directs you to the side wall on the bridge.

"Here!?" you sputter, but he doesn't offer a response, already pushing you to your knees. He frees the ties on his pants, and you stare in disbelief as his cock is revealed. The dark grey skin is taunt on the shaft, the head leaking with pre cum already. It's giant, fitting for a monster his size, and your mouth waters. His balls are huge, and he grips you by the back of your head, guiding his cock to your lips.

"You've sucked cock before, haven't you girl? Or are you the one who is merely all talk? Get to work, slut." He growls.

You quiver, looking up at his face as you take him in both hands and open your mouth. You lick up the underside of his cock, it nearly dwarfs your head and blocks your vision partially. Sucking the tip into your mouth, you find yourself straining already.

He would undoubtedly split you open, and the thought made you moan as you begin to take more of his cock between your lips. Working your hands on what you can't fit, you suck him eagerly and sloppily, spit slicking your hands and wetting your chin. His hand guides you gently, holding you down for a few extra seconds as he grunts when you take him deeper. You gag and he thrusts into your mouth shallowly, barely restraining himself. You think he's about to cave and fuck your face before he yanks you off his shaft, and pulls you up at the hair.

"Enough. I want to fill this cunt up with my cum. Give you my beast whelps so you have something to remember me by." He growls, turning you around and pushing you forward until your naked body is leaning awkwardly over the belly button high wall. You whimper at his words, belly tightening at the thought of him breeding you.

Rhazin moves behind you, your breath catching in your lungs as you peer over the bridge at the water rushing below. He spreads your legs, and the cool wind against your wet cunt makes you shiver.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you shriek, and you jolt away from him just to be pulled back. He squats down behind you, a hand on your hip and the other spreading the lips of your pussy open.

"Look how wet you are, whore. Soaked from sucking my cock." His voice is a deep rumble, and you tense under his scrutiny.

He delves in, licking from your clit to your puckered ass, a gasp escaping your lips in surprised pleasure. He slowly starts to finger you, licking and toying with your clit until your legs are shaking. He adds another finger, and through the burn of being stretched, just two makes you sob and beg for more.

"Please," You whine, clenching down on him and crying out as you cum around his fingers. "Please God, fuck me. I need your fat cock."

A chuckle escapes him, sending shivers down your spine as he pulls from you.

"Begging a beast for his cock, slut? Who am I to deny you." he growls, lining himself up with your weeping hole.

He slips the head in, and your hungry pussy gobbles him up. Though he prepped you with his hand, the stretch makes your eyes roll into the back of your head by the first couple inches, and you're a blabbering mess by the time he sinks himself in until his balls slap against your tender clit. His hand caresses your plush stomach, and he groans, feeling his own cock creating a large bump in it.

"You take me so good, such a good slut for this beast."

You sob and push back into him as he withdraws. "More!" Your voice is high and breathy, legs trembling.

The troll sets a punishing pace, using your hips to pound into your fat cunt. You feel like a toy, and the thought makes you drip around him. The wet sounds of sex fill the air, and you wail as an orgasm starts to build.

"Slut," he grunts into your ear. "We have company."

The words rouse you from your stupor, and you look down the road from where you came. A man on a horse is slowly edging closer, now on the bridge. He's middle aged, and looks shocked by the sight of you impaled on the bridge trolls cock. Heat rushes through your body, and your cheeks blush brighter with a combination of arousal and embarrassment.

You moan out loud as a particularly hard thrust from Rhazin brings your attention back. The man eyes you hungerly, and you close your eyes.

The beast in your cunt keeps fucking into you, barking something at the man.

"That's twice the usual rate!" You hear him argue.

Rhazin snarls, "Half is for getting the pleasure of seeing me fuck my pretty little whore of a mate."

Brain mush from the thick, long cock rearranging your womb, you whimper and sob as he doubles down on his pace. He leans back down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear.

"Do you like that, pretty girl? He's watching me ruin you for any normal man again. Does it make your whore cunt twitch and ache knowing he's watching?" He asks. The only sound you can manage is a high pitched cry.

"Open your eyes, slut. Look him in the face. I own you now. And I'm going to breed this little cunt. Keep you as my cock warmer." His orders are punctuated with deep thrusts, but you only open your eyes when one hand grabs your hair and tilts your head toward the rider.

You look at the man who's gaze is fixed on your cunt spread as the troll fucks into you. You feel shame rise up your neck, but not just at being caught like this, but because you like it.

"Beg for it." He demands.

And you do. "Please!" You sob. "Fuck me full of your cum. Give me your babies. I need it. I'm yours to fuck when you want, just please-" You're cut off by your own squeal at a hard thrust. "Please use me, beast."

Rhazin releases your hair, hand going to your clit and rubbing a finger over your tender flesh. Your mind reels as you begin to clench down around his monster cock, and a wail leaves you as he spills his cum inside you, setting off your own orgasm.

A clear claim that sends the traveler away, adjusting his own trousers.

Rhazin thrusts into your over used pussy shallowly. You feel so full it almost hurts, but you relish the feeling, twitching and hanging limply in his hold.

"Such a good whore for me." He whispers into your ear. "I can't wait to watch you swell with my children. You'll want for nothing my mate. I'll keep this fat slutty cunt full every day for the rest of our lives."

You nod weakly. Who needed to stay in the next town when you could be used like the slut you were right here. Fucked full of babies and split open by him every day.

Body tightening at the thought, he begins to move again. Still speared on his cock on the bridge, he fucks you twice over, until your screams echo down the river. Your new home.

[mosaickiwi]

14DWY As a Drama AU

Hey remember when I said I’d post this in February oopsies!! (don’t ask me about demon!ren i will cry)

Open at your own risk this thing is LONG. Tried to give everyone at least a little something! upon putting this in my drafts i realized olivia exists i'll add her at some point uhhh. Also you can tell how much I love Elanor... hehe

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The cult classic romantic thriller, 14 Days With You, is now a drama! Coming to all your favorite streaming platforms this summer. A whirlwind romance gone right and wrong that you DON’T want to miss.

Cast List

[REDACTED]

🖤 Quiet kid that used the after school theater program to delay returning home. Never wanted to perform, but loved doing costumes, make up, and correcting others (in his mind) on how to portray their roles. 

🖤 Spent a little extra time perfecting the costumes of a certain someone who didn't even know they existed. He always traded house chores with his sister so she'd sit in the audience to solely film Tree #2's performance.

🖤 Was an apprentice special effects makeup artist after graduation at first, particularly for horror films, but it didn't exactly pay the bills when they left home.

🖤 Easily rose to the top in their acting career due to his dedication for crafting characters to perfection. 

🖤 Dolly Parton/Lady Gaga-esque in their separation of work and life—completely unrecognizable in their regular civilian attire. Paparazzi have never gotten a picture of them in all their years trying.

🖤 Has zero issues getting into character, but does "method acting" on occasion to make sure people leave them alone on set. And also to fuck with directors and producers they don't like. Notoriously difficult to work with because of it + their overall attitude towards others, still gets hired somehow.

🖤 Got offered the role as the main love interest in 14DWY without an audition, thanks to a previous manipulative pink haired character he played in a film that ended up never being released. (2017 Ren because it's funny)

 Angel (you!)

💜 Participated in the same after school theater program as [REDACTED] and Leon for a few semesters before you got bored of it. Curiosity for acting resurfaced later in life.

💜 Newbie actor at the recently formed talent agency of your friend. Only starred as non-speaking roles or background characters in small productions until the drama. You moved back to Corland Bay after uni for the better industry prospects.

💜 You initially auditioned for a very small role in the drama as an employee in a seaside shop at first, but somehow you wound up as the lead? (un)lucky you.

💜 Feel free to fill in the blank for any whys and hows you think of to fit your OC/self/sona as you so please <3

Elanor

💖 Normally an actress and casting director, first time as an executive producer for the drama. Dreams of bringing her own romantic screenplays to life. Hasn't quite proven herself the way she wants in the industry to feel confident enough in them. 

💖 Catalyst for the drama being made. A "friend" mistakenly recommended the 14DWY book to her. She absolutely loathes all the psychological horror of it but sees the potential it has.

💖 Also the reason [REDACTED] was immediately cast, and you as well once she saw your chemistry with him while reading for a minor role. He hadn't shown a fraction of as much interest when reading lines with other potential candidates, so she decided to take the risk of an untested talent as the headliner.

💖 Refuses to use her family's name to get her stuff made. She wants her works to speak for themselves. Very picky about who she works with due to her family having hands in most of Corland's entertainment industry so she hardly gets a genuine interaction beyond ass-kissing.

💖 Always partial to working with Conan's small studio since he was the only director to give her any sort of criticism in spite of her family, as gentle and polite as it was. She still cried a little in the dressing room though.

💖 Genuine confusion when Conan wants her to act as both a producer and assist with direction. She only intended to bring it to his interest. But how could she say no to someone whose judgment and opinion she respects so much?

Conan

💖 Runs and owns a small scale studio in the Bay that seems to pick and choose its productions at random. It is in fact Alice sneaking into her dad's home office and putting scented stickers on the ones she likes. (She only reads the titles)

💖 Extremely proud of Elanor for getting so far on her own, and would take on one of her dozens of scripts no questions asked if she'd only work up the courage to show him one. So imagine his surprise when she comes to him with a romantic horror instead of one of the fairy tale romances he sees her scribbling notes on during breaks.

💖 While he’s the one with the final say, he does try to let Elanor have as much free reign as possible on the project in the hopes to boost her confidence.

Kiara

💖 A super-star actress and model that got her start in Corland’s local industry, but quickly hit it big. 

💖 When she isn’t drowning in work, she’ll swing through town to check in on her sister.

💖 Desperately wants to star in one of Elanor’s productions, but respects her sister’s desire for independence. Though she does like to tease about certain casting decisions on the drama when made aware of them.

the rest of the cast are unfortunately very silly i couldn't resist

Moth

💖 Started a talent agency out of spite for the terrible castings in their favorite media. Got further invested upon realizing they could read the scripts before the movies or show adaptations were even announced.

💖 The one who pushed you to audition for a minor role in the production once the rumor about who was cast as the main love interest reaches them. They've heard all the horror stories about [REDACTED] so wanted the inside scoop. Horrified and fascinated to find out you get the lead role. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Leon

💖 Joined the theater program initially because of you, but got really into it. Moved away to attend a performing arts school until his mother got sick.

💖 Took every wacky infomercial or street performance gig he could find to pay the hospital bills until Teo found out and swooped in.

💖 Eternally grateful for the burden of financial ruin being relieved, so he always accepts the jobs Teo gets for him. He definitely won’t complain since he’s not dressed in an animal costume and shouting nonsensical slogans for cleaning products.

Teo

💖 Met Leon through a shared production and quickly bonded. Attended a different performing arts school and met Jae as a child.

💖 Almost the exact opposite of his game character purely for the funnies. Shy, introverted, can’t flirt to save his life. Still a nepo baby but he can hold his own in acting. Doesn’t like his character much, but is extremely jealous of the confidence he oozes.

💖 Leon and Jae are his only friends in the industry so he uses his sway to get them parts if they haven't already gotten a call back. Gets REALLY nervous on set for certain roles so he needs their support.

Jae

💖 Attended the same school as Teo when they were kids, and is constantly pitching intentionally bad ideas and joking on set to reassure his friend.

💖 A little bit of a thrill seeker, so does all his own small stunts if he thinks he’s capable. Stands there and gawks watching the more extreme stunts, loudest to clap when they go well.

💖 Kept bringing Maple to the shoots cause how could he even think about leaving her at home? She would occasionally break her leash and wander into a scene for head scratches and kisses. The film crew always booed when a PA came to take her off set.

Violet

💖 Completely terrible at caring for plants. Inspired by her role, she starts vlogging about her plant mom journey before shooting even begins. All her advice is completely wrong and terrible. Her personal assistant keeps her in the dark by tending to the plants themselves to fix her mistakes.

💖 Finds out she has a talent for flower arrangement, though. Does thank you vases for the cast and crew on all her future productions that last a lifetime because her PA made sure all the flowers were fake.

Exposition

(silly on set shenanigans)

🎬 Scenes get retaken quite a bit, since you’re still extremely new to it all. Most of the cast and crew expect anger out of [REDACTED] after the 4th call for a re-shoot on the first day’s library scene, but he’s surprisingly cracking jokes about his dye job and reassuring you that you’re doing great. The infamously ill-tempered actor is smiling somehow… even being patient? Not glaring down his co-star for minor slip ups? They cannot recognize this person.

🎬 Violet and [REDACTED] naturally butt heads on set. She respects their acting, not the actor. Zero hesitation to snap back if he’s getting snarky with a PA. You’re the one people have to beg to separate them, and you’re completely baffled that [REDACTED] doesn’t treat others as nicely as he treats you.

🎬 Even though Elanor is a nervous wreck about the first real thing to ultimately make or break her career, she’s scarily efficient on set—as long as no one distracts her. She does get sidetracked once in a while, only because she loves chatting and answering any questions the cast or crew might have. She even brings one of her own cats to set during a slower day to see if they can get along with Maple. Leaves Conan in charge when the horror scenes are being shot. They’re both put off by how vivid they feel, but Conan at least can grin and bear it. 

🎬 You and Leon manage to catch up on set while [REDACTED] is otherwise occupied shooting said horror scenes. You tease him about a few infomercials you saw when looking up his actor reel, and Leon teases you back about your unlucky streak of being a tree or a rock in every play the theater program put on when y’all were younger. Laughs even harder once he finds out your most prominent roles until then were “unnamed zombie #5 at the bottom of the pile” and “sleeping train passenger.”

🎬 Try as he might, [REDACTED] doesn’t convince Elanor to change up a few crucial parts of the script for his benefit. His offhand threats of leaving the production fall on deaf ears, as she is all too happy to do re-shoots to make Teo the lead. His innocent hints to you about the shoddy script fly over your head for some reason! You love how it's turning out, what does he mean?

🎬 Super shy Teo prefaces and warns his co-stars before acting in every scene of his character being excessively flirty. Most of the actors have worked with him at some point or another beforehand, so they let him go through his routine without issue. Some crew members love the whiplash of him switching between overly courteous and smarmy, others vastly prefer the flirty character and mourn the loss as production comes to a close.

The Build Up

📺 The higher ups pressure Violet to start a short-lived streaming career to boost interest, since she’s hopeless with plants. She amasses a cult following for her MMO reviews, blind raids on new patches, and her wild ride of a Minecraft playthrough. In the end she winds up preferring to play games off stream, but once in a blue moon she’ll do a first time raid stream so her more dedicated fans can join and watch her alliance get wiped. Creative trolling is highly encouraged.

📺 Teo, Jae, and Leon appear on a late night TV show for promotion. It was meant to be for Teo and [REDACTED] at first. (Where’s the leading lover? [REDACTED] refused all promo appearances or sit downs without you being involved in them.) The host plays a clip that Teo’s particularly embarrassed about, and he hides his face in shame when the crowd hoots and hollers praise about his portrayal.

📺 [REDACTED] comes across as doting and overprotective of you once you’re pushed into the spotlight of celebrity, and shows increasingly concerning behaviors as the premiere looms closer. Depending on your response, they’ll back off to a point or dial it up. Interviewers and consumers mistake it as the eccentric actor’s “method acting” so the red flags just slide right past.

📺 Elanor and Conan guest star in a podcast for off-the-cuff romance enthusiasts. Their strangely cagey and joking comments like “there were so many retakes we couldn’t keep track of what was meant to be the actors messing around or part of the final cuts,” and “we’ve actually sent all the reviewers 1 of 14 versions with completely different endings,” leave listeners all the more curious to see the film.

The Climax

🎉 Reception is huge, in good ways for most. The majority of the cast see a surge in popularity if they didn’t already from the hype. 

🎉 Teo bemoans his endless offerings for sarcastic pretty boy jobs, Leon makes enough to get picky about his roles (and pay Teo back), Jae somehow cons a studio into an action film starring Maple—and subsequently adopts every single one of her stunt doubles. 

🎉 Moth throws the agency away to start adapting anime and manga themselves. Elanor finally feels validated enough to bring one of her romantic screenplays to the big screen, starring her sister Kiara and a very enthusiastic Violet as the leading couple. 

🎉 Conan’s studio is overloaded with scripts, and Alice runs out of scented stickers that much quicker. They are severely backlogged send help.

🎉 One determined conspiracy theorist sets out to prove those missing 13 versions of the ending are real, based on minor cuts and inconsistencies purposefully left in the public release.

The End, Roll Credits

choose your own ending

Bad End 💔 - A Falling Star

💔 If you respond negatively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor during shoots and promo: he plays the waiting game, uses his connections and blackmail to make sure all your roles without his name attached don’t garner nearly as much attention as the ones where you’re co-stars.

💔 Your negotiating power quickly plummets as you fall out of demand and end up begging just for the non-speaking roles you once loathed.

💔 The careers of anyone you got close to on set fall apart much faster than yours, before they’re outright blacklisted in the industry.

💔 You begrudgingly call up your last option. He can’t do much for your friends, but their offer to help you make a comeback is always open.

Neutral End 💌 - Just One More Try

💌 If you respond indifferently to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: the drama leads to you getting more offers, though a handful are for playing opposite of [REDACTED], as the on-screen chemistry was too much for studios to ignore for cash grabs.

💌 Elanor has rid herself of the drama’s subsequent rights, despite positive reception, so a sequel sprouts up in the works at a different studio. One that doesn’t mind catering to the whims of their actors when it comes to script integrity.

💌 You arrive on the set to find that not just one, but all of your cast mates except for them were written to have much smaller parts in the sequel. In fact, you rarely find a scene in the revised script where [REDACTED] isn’t alongside you.

💌 Sadly the contract is air tight, just put up with it until it’s over… What’s this clause about further sequels?

Good End 💍 - Off Into the Sunset

💍 If you respond positively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: you’ll sadly announce at the post premiere press conference that acting was a one-and-done adventure for you. Retired effective immediately, no farewell interviews.

💍 You’re spotted around town for a few weeks in a mask with a tall, darkly dressed companion at your side before you disappear from the public eye and Corland Bay all together.

💍 A few of your friends at least have an idea of where you are, and they meet up with you whenever you're in a nearby city. None of them can recognize the man glued to your side, though. Not that he'd say anything to clue them in.

💍 After months of near inactivity, [REDACTED] mysteriously deletes their socials without a word, sparking confusion and outrage among hardcore fans still desperately hoping for a sequel.

[preservationofnormalcy]

[It is November of 2021. I am being led down a hallway that looks more like it should be on a ship than a government building. Metal walls with painted horizontal lines down its length, marked with “water depth” markers every 30 feet or so. My guide is a bored-looking man in a suit, balding, checking his clipboard. I seem to remember his name is Clarke, but he’s not who I’m here to see.]

M] Does this tunnel flood?

C] Hm?

M] The water markers.

C] Oh, those. Not unless something bad happens. She’s pretty good about it.

M] Is her name really –

C] Yth’Wa, Herald of Change. Yes. Changed it legally. Not that she gets out much.

M] …kind of an indoorsy person?

C] I mean she’s never in the outside world.

M] Not even to get food?

C] She has people for that.

[Suddenly, from doorways that lead off the hallway, we are joined by six figures wearing yellow robes that conceal their identities entirely. I smell brine and dead fish. Clarke looks back and seems to count the figures, but otherwise doesn’t react.]

M] Is this a joke? 

C] Wish it was, ma’am. Hey, fellas.

[Two of the figures wave. We approach a bulkhead at the end of the hall, and Clarke spins the wheel lock. The taste of salt hits my mouth - like the seaside, like brine. Clarke enters the chamber beyond, and three of the figures follow him. Three of them wait behind me, as if waiting to escort me. After a moment’s hesitation, I enter the chamber.

It is dark, hewn from rough stone, sloping downward into dark water. I look up, and the ceiling cannot be seen in the darkness. Utility lights illuminate the path downward, a few of them trailing into the still water. Clarke takes up a post next to the door, and the yellow figures form a pattern facing the water. Two of them kneel, two of them prostrate themselves, and two raise their hands and begin a chant. 

I can’t help myself. I back up, and whisper to Clarke.]

M] You cannot be serious.

C] You’re the one that wanted to meet her. 

M] Who the hell am I meeting? 

[Wordlessly, Clarke points to the water. A figure is emerging. 

A humanoid figure, also clad in yellow robes. Her hood is pulled low over her face, only the bottom half of her face visible. She has both hands placed together, palms pressed together in a gesture of prayer. She walks calmly from the water, up the incline, and it becomes clear she must be…seven feet tall, or more. Pallid grey-green skin is visible under her hood, and her hair….not hair. Tentacles. Tendrils roll down her shoulders and chest, spill from her sleeves. Her face is thin, her cheeks are marked with slits - gills.

As she emerges, she joins the chant with her own voice. As water spills from her form, fully on dry land now, her words change to English. An unearthly, inhuman voice…but not unpleasant.]

Yth’Wa] Fathoms deep, fathoms old. Fathoms dark, fathoms cold. We leave the cradle, leave the fold. To serve the one, the Lord in Gold. 

[There is a pause. Yth’Wa smiles and stands beyond the yellow figures, who are silent but have not moved from their spots. She is close to me, and seems to regard me with a small smile. Her face is…unnatural, but not ugly. Something beyond. When she speaks, it is with a strange resonance, and no small amount of amusement.]

Y] Ms Hendricks. I was told of your coming.

M] …wh…Yth’Wa?

Y] Do not be afraid.

[She moved her arms, spreading them out. Water dripped off her robes, and tentacles slipped back into her sleeves.]

Y] I am an ally of the Office. I do not harm the unbeliever, as they have their part to play in the grand Circle. The King Of All And Nothing has spoken, and we listen.

M] I don’t…I don’t know what to say. 

Y] Then speak your truth. 

M] ….I’m here to ask you questions.

[Yth’Wa’s smile widens. Her teeth are sharp, triangular, serrated. I look back at Clarke, who seems nonplussed. He looks at his phone and swears softly, seemingly realizing he doesn’t get reception here. Yth’Wa’s tone is not unfriendly, but somehow…as if she’s humoring me. Slight but not aggressive sarcasm rolls off her lips.]

Y] Inquisitiveness is what drew us all to the Circle, Ms Hendricks. It is a virtue worthy of the Yellow Empty. This is a holy quest. 

M] I feel like I’m being condescended to. 

Y] No force in the ocean could compel me to do so. 

M] But on land? 

[She puts her hands back together with a playful smile.] 

Y] What are your questions, my dear?

M] …I was going to ask you about the poster, but first…who are you? 

Y] I am Yth’Wa, Herald of Change, leader of the Yellow Circle. 

M] And what is the…Yellow Circle? 

[Yth’Wa gestures to the other figures in yellow behind her.] 

Y] We are the children of the One Who Dwells Between. We reach out in humility and hope to the space beyond our candlelight, and we embrace what we find. Our god, the Golden Father, shepherds us into the dark void, and bestows upon us gifts that we take upon ourselves gladly. 

M] And you’re….allied with the Office? They’re okay with this. 

[Yth’Wa’s smile is slightly more amused, almost smug. Her tone is like kindly addressing a child.] 

Y] It’s our world too, Meghan. We live here. We have a vested interest in keeping the things that slither around the lighthouse of the human mind at bay…or under our control. The Office often finds these skills useful. Such as your poster.

M] The….sock a Shoggoth one.  

Y] Indeed. It’s an old one. You saw a ripple of waters past, Ms Hendricks.

M] Sorry? 

Y] Do you know of Operation Deep Whisper? 

M] I…I don’t, no. 

Y] Mmmh. 

[She steps forward. I’m unsure of what to do, and in my hesitation, she walks around me. Studying me, her eyes never visible but nonetheless biting into me.]

Y] You’ve met Josiah. Josiah Carter. 

M] Of Psychotronics? 

Y] Of those who wade in pools they will drown in. Tell me. Did he talk about the things they invited? 

M] He mentioned things that…came from their experiments. 

Y] Poor Josiah. He knew only half of what he unleashed. 

M] I don’t think I understand. 

[Yth’Wa took in a deep breath.]

Y] When men take hammers to glass, they should not be surprised when it leaks. Those at the Office, in their uniforms and titles. They frayed the real in order to see through it, and they didn’t like what they saw. What they let through. By the 1960s, the camera obscura  they had made in their blind stabbing through reality had become a tear. A broken fence post, and of course things came through. Things…not under our control. 

M] The things he described sounded horrific. What are they?

Y] Me and mine are…inured to them, somewhat. The Office now calls them Outsiders. Entities from other spaces, other realms, dimensions beyond ours. Beyond the veils. As you can imagine, they are often dangerous to humanity. Physically violent, or ontologically inimical to human life. Often...alien thought patterns, incompatible with the mortal mind. Ontologically incompatible - too many of them, and their reality leaks into ours...impossible geometry, mosses and fungi that degrade the integrity of realspace. Or reality, as humans see it.

M] And you can control them?

Y] More or less. Keep them at bay, influence their behavior. Sometimes they can appreciate something that thinks like them. But all that and more were slowly being unleashed through the world, a secret plague that threatened to collapse the Office’s so called normality. Beasts, anomalies, and forces threatened even our way of life. 

M] So they asked the Yellow Circle for help. 

Y] Indeed. I was not the leader at the time, but the Circle allied with the Office to eradicate this plague. Using resources and funding from the more mundane conflict in Vietnam, we battled the Outsider across the globe throughout the 1960s, and into the 70s. Our people call it Gul’tho Z’Thuth G-Uz, the Conflict of Brother Blood. But the Office calls it Operation Deep Whisper. It is there your posters come into play - propaganda, encouragement for a war against an enemy so alien that they cannot be understood. 

[That smile again.] 

Y] By the Office, anyway.  

M] And it worked? 

Y] You had not heard of Outsiders before you came to the Office, had you? We saved the world, Ms Hendricks. Our world. 

M] I guess we can chalk that one up as a success. 

Y] Indeed. 

M] I don’t feel the need for most of my questions….Yth’Wa. But I guess I had another. 

Y] Speak freely. 

M] You were…human, right? All of you, but especially you. Who were you before you were Yth’Wa?

[There is a moment of silence. Yth’Wa looked…momentarily annoyed, her thin lips turning down at the ends in a way that made my stomach churn. But after a moment, she seemed to reset, relax her posture.]

Y] Who I was is dead. The One Whose Sign Dances saw me for who I was, and made me into something…more. More real, more truthful. Who I was is…dead. Do you understand? 

M] I….I think I do. 

Y] Magnificent. If you had no further questions….

[She steps forward, and I flinch. She pauses, as if attempting not to spook an animal, reaching into her robes and slowly pulling free a single scallop shell. It shined like an oil spill in the dim light, runes and markings along the outside of the shell. They hurt to look at.]

Y] If you wish to see me again, throw this shell into the largest body of water you can reach in a day’s walk under the light of the moon. I will see you, I will reach you. And we can talk. 

M] …thank you, Yth’Wa.

Y] May the Shattered Lord keep you and guide you. 

M] Let the…the Keeper of Yellow—- oh, god, what…what was that? I can taste it. 

[Yth’Wa laughs, leaning in further, teeth gleaming in the odd light.]

Y] Truth. Oh, Ms Hendricks. You’ve tasted truth. 

(Buy the poster here!)

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[licorice-tea]

Seaside Rendezvous

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!

It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.

He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?

Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.

But Sanji makes that impossible, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”

He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, dearest.”

You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”

“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”

“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”

“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”

You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”

Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.

“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”

“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“

“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”

Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.

“Would you be mine?”

“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”

“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”

“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.

He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.

For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.

[cremedensada]

something in my drafts that i actually got the energy and motivation to finish. it's not really my best work but i *did* try so!! also 600+ of yall?? (⁠(⁠(⁠;⁠ꏿ⁠_⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)⁠)⁠)

Yandere Ocean Spirit who the local sailors and fishermen tell tales of. Some say he takes the form of a charming young man talking with the grandmothers, letting himself be entertained by their tales of when they were younger.

Some say she takes the form of a beautiful young lady walking down the shore as the sun sets down the horizon, colorful gold and orange painting the sky with awe - a vision of beauty and elegance.

Some say they take the form of an individual whose beauty goes beyond genders and labels, taking a dip in the ocean - glowing moonlight behind them. Locals who saw a glimpse of them would often murmur about their long cascading hair as dark as the ocean's waves in midnight; no one truly knows where the tips of their hair ends and the ocean begins.

Yandere Ocean Spirit who, despite his contentment with life at the seaside, finds himself curious with you - a new face, a visitor, in his home.

You were staying at the seaside for the summer, spending time with your relatives per your parents' decisions. You're not all too happy with being plucked out of your comfort zone, but you suppose you might as well make it work - a chance to destress before you'll have to come back and face the reality of life's hustle and bustle, like the unforgiving ocean waves crashing against the shore, hah.

The ocean waves are inviting today - not too huge and overwhelming, but neither too placid and calm. You spend a huge chunk of your afternoon watching the waves - something so routinely was so pleasing to you.

The beautiful stranger approaches you in one of your ocean-watching ventures, a sweet smile adorning her beautiful face - asking permission to accompany you. And who are you to deny her? Not when she looks at you looking like the most breathtaking woman you've ever met in your life and you are just a human being with a huge appreciation for beauty.

"I like the ocean," she says, after a moment of silence, eyes trained on the waves, "everything in life can change - things come and go, but you can always count the ocean to be there."

You chuckle. "Even the ocean can be unforgiving, you know. Especially during storms."

"Ah," she laughs, "that, I'll have to agree... we're all victims to the whims of the weather."

You smile in agreement, and the silence that follows is pleasant and welcome - like the ocean breeze gently blowing against your skin.

The next few days you busy yourself with familiarizing around town. While running an errand for your aunt, you come across a huddle of fishermen - gazes grim.

"Looks like it's about to rain," one of them says, "can't go fishing at this weather."

You hear another fisherman let out a grunt, just as you near their huddle.

"We can't always hope for a fair weather all the time. The ocean spirit can only do so much for us common folk."

An ocean spirit? You halt in your steps unconsciously, curiosity urging you to listen more. One of the men seems to notice, and lets out a hearty laugh.

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment at being caught listening.

"Curious, eh?" he says as the others turn to you as well, wearing matching amused smiles - at the very least, they didn't look like they were mocking you. "Never heard of an ocean spirit before?"

"Spirits aren't... exactly common in the city," you find yourself responding.

They nod in understanding. "Too urbanized," one of them says - a man sporting a huge scar underneath his left cheek, "they're more powerful and stronger when they're in their natural habitats."

It's your first time hearing of the existence of such spirits. "What does the spirit look like?"

They share amused glances, like you've just asked them of an inside joke you didn't know they had. "Well it depends on how the spirit wants to look like. But you've already met her, if that's what you're asking."

Their words echo in your mind until the next day as you watch the waves once more. It crashes against the sand and washes towards your feet - you watch it retreat.

A smell of the ocean breeze creeps up on you, and you feel a presence beside you.

"Mind if I join?"

His voice is deeper this time, different from her softer lilt - the one that reminds of you of early morning rays, the calm rippling of the ocean accompanied by the glittering sunlight. His voice feels like the warm ocean water soaking you to your thighs, gently swayed by the waves moving to and fro.

You turn to meet his gaze.

"You never told me you were an ocean spirit."

Unfazed, he smiles. "You never asked... plus, I didn't intend to hide it in the first place."

You entertain him with your company - his eyes gazing at you with keen interest as you share about your life in the city.

"—and what brings you to this peaceful little town?"

"Just... vacation," you shrugged, "I'm heading back to the city after a few weeks."

He frowns, but quickly covers it up with a serene smile. "That's a shame. Can't you stay a little bit longer?"

"I'm not meant for the seaside life," you respond; and it's true. You were not born with the ocean breeze to greet you in the morning, and the sound of birds singing the days away, nor the sound of waves lapping against the shore. You were born with the hustle and bustle, the sound of heavy traffic and hurrying men and women getting to one designation to another, and the smell of smoke permeating in the air.

It can be said, yes, that you can get used to a simplistic life at the beach but could you really? Not when your subconscious mind tells you that there's more to do at home, things to finish, projects to oversee, friends to keep up with, a life that you cannot afford to upend because your comfort has already rooted in the city, and it would be foolish to uproot it in an environment that it has to get used to after it has already matured.

"Oh."

He quietens after that. The waves are audibly more harsher as they crash against the shore, thrashing and lashing even beneath clear blue skies. The ocean spirit is not mad, but it rolls off of him in the waves.

And days turn to weeks — the waves only get harsher. Fishermen stand by the shore, scowling and frowning as the rough waters force them not to travel the nasty waves. What good is their livelihood if they do not live to return anyway?

The ocean spirit is nowhere to be seen, and there's no way to bargain or to ask what's wrong — like he has just disappeared down the depths.

The day of your departure comes, bags packed and a sense of anticipation to be back home thrums in your veins. As the car rumbles to life, thunder crackles in the air and lightning strikes — a flash flood comes surging towards the shore.

Cries of surprise and fear erupted from the villagers as the waves slammed against them, like claws tightening their hold on their prey. Was this the work of their ocean spirit? The gentle soul who would listen to the grandmothers' tales of their young love and misadventures like a child listen's to a fisherman's tale of braving the storms.

Or was the ocean spirit holding themselves back all along, now only deciding to let go of their restraints and let the humans feel the full blow of the ocean without their careful watch. Humans, who have since been uses to their less than concerning storms, unfit to respond to such a devastating occurrence — too panicked and fearful to flee away to higher ground.

You watch as the waves continue to drown more and more people, and a lone figure standing on an elevated rock formation. Has it been there all along?

Your feet moved before your mind can catch up to it, wading through the waters to reach the figure. They notice your presence and, serenely, smiles at you.

"Hello," they greet, like the storm all over them is not happening at all, "wanna watch the ocean with me?"

"You need to stop," you insist instead, ignoring their invitation. "The villagers are drowning."

They merely watch, and hum. "That's a shame, isn't it?" they murmur. How can they be so cruel? No — have they been this heartless all along? What of the person who the people sing praises of? "Perhaps they should start to learn to get used to it."

You hear the wail of a mother. You can only imagine what made her cry with such devastation.

"After you've given them protection?"

"Aren't we all victims to the whims of the weather?" They hum, "then perhaps, we're all also just victims to the whims of the ocean."

"And what would change the ocean's whim right now?"

As though waiting for that inevitable question to be asked, they smiled. "For you to stay."

Another harsh wave ravages the village, and they smiles at you with a calm smile — calm as the waves of the ocean should be — as more cries and sobs, pleas for help fills your ears.

"Well? Will you stay, or will you let everyone drown?"

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Beside the Seaside: Ch 15

Chapter 15

Claire sat on the front porch steps and clasped her hands around her knees, watching Fergus and Faith play. The August sun dipped low on the horizon, a perfect summer evening stretched out before them. Footsteps tread along the porch and then Jamie sat on the top step behind her, his knees on either side of her.

“Here.” Jamie handed her a glass of whiskey and set his own next to him on the step.

“Oh, bless you,” she murmured, leaning back into his chest with a sigh. She felt him shake with a chuckle as he spotted the children.

“What the devil is Faith doing?”

“She got tired of Fergus trouncing her in their game and now is using physics to her advantage,” Claire explained, as Fergus tried to run past Faith with the rugby ball. Faith caught hold of his arm and spun as hard as she could, pitching Fergus to one side as he stumbled.

“That is not how you play!” Fergus howled from the grass as Faith stole the ball, giggling all the while.

Jamie’s arms went around her as he pressed a kiss to her temple, and Claire’s eyes slid shut in perfect contentment, absorbed in the warmth of Jamie and the sounds of the children’s laughter and shouts, and of the waves farther beyond.

[read the rest on ao3]

[doormatty3]

Ocean Eyes: Chapter 6 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 4964

A/N: I'm just feral for our fish boy (man) so here is more smut

The dawn of the new day bathes the room in a gentle glow as you and Orm find yourselves immersed in a quiet breakfast. The lingering echoes of your heartfelt conversations from the night before have cast a new light on your connection. The bond between you and Orm feels different, somehow deeper and more profound.

Seated across from each other, the tranquillity of the morning is interrupted only by the soft clinking of utensils and the occasional sip of coffee or tea. 

You enjoy the peaceful mornings with him, and he is now even more eager to learn about the surface world. And that also includes making breakfast and cooking - and you enjoy that a lot.

To you, it feels like Orm has allowed himself to explore the surface world properly after his revelation. It’s not just about adapting to the unfamiliar customs or navigating the bustling streets; there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, a thirst for understanding the intricacies of the world beyond the ocean’s depths.

You made a rich breakfast this morning together. You find joy in guiding him through the art culinary arts, introducing him to the aromas and flavours of the surface world. 

There’s a unique pleasure in witnessing Orm’s curiosity unfold, in seeing him navigate the ingredients and utensils with a mix of concentration and enthusiasm. His genuine interest in the intricacies of cooking mirrors his approach to understanding the surface world – with an open heart and a willingness to embrace the unknown with you.

As your gaze wanders around the table, you notice a conspicuous absence - the sea glass you found just a few days ago. A subtle furrow forms on your brow as you scan the tabletop, realising that the vibrant piece of sea glass is nowhere to be found. 

Turning to Orm, who is still seated across from you, you inquire, “Have you seen that sea glass we found a few days ago? I can’t seem to find it.”

Orm glances around the table, his eyes scanning the surface, and the corners of his lips curve into a thoughtful expression. “No, I haven’t seen it. Did you misplace it?”

You shake your head, a touch of concern in your eyes. “I don’t think so. I remember placing it right here on the table after we found it. It’s strange that it’s gone.”

“I’m sure you will find it again at some point,” Orm says, smiling and taking a sip of his tea.

He pauses, taking a moment to savour the warmth of the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. The subtle play of light and shadow creates a gentle ambience, casting a soft glow on Orm’s features. His eyes, still reflecting the profound depths of the ocean, meet yours with a newfound softness. It’s a gaze that speaks of vulnerability, trust, and a willingness to share the intricacies of his past.

“You know Atlantis is unlike anything you’ve ever seen,” Orm begins, his voice carrying a touch of reverence. “Imagine a world beneath the waves, where the play of sunlight creates a mesmerising dance of colours. The coral reefs, vibrant and alive, house a myriad of sea creatures, each more breathtaking than the last.”

As he speaks, you find yourself captivated by the vivid imagery he paints. Orm’s words weave a tapestry of beauty, and you can almost envision the underwater city he describes. The way he talks about Atlantis transcends the factual details; it’s a testament to his genuine love for his home.

“The architecture is unparalleled, with structures crafted from living coral, adorned with bioluminescent patterns that come alive at night. The city itself breathes, pulsating with the energy of the ocean. And the Atlantean technology is beyond anything the surface world has ever known,” Orm continues, his enthusiasm evident.

As he shares these details, you can’t help but feel a sense of wonder and awe. Orm’s eyes sparkle with a passion that goes beyond duty; it’s a profound connection to a place he holds dear. You feel privileged to catch a glimpse of the depth of his love for Atlantis and its people.

“Orm, it sounds absolutely incredible,” you respond, your own eyes reflecting the genuine appreciation for his description. “I can almost picture it.”

Orm continues, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on yours. “You know, I’ve never visited the surface world before. Atlantis has always been my home, and I never felt the need to explore what lay beyond the waves.”

His words carry a hint of vulnerability, and you can sense that this revelation is something deeply personal to him. 

“But circumstances changed,“ Orm continues, his gaze never leaving yours. “I found myself more or less forced to the surface, and it was a world vastly different from what I’d known. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and yet, there was a strange allure to it.”

You listen attentively, a warmth spreading through you as he bares this part of his soul. 

“I could have gone back to Atlantis and resumed my life as it was by now. But being on the surface, I discovered a different perspective, a different way of life. There was a freedom here that intrigued me,” Orm admits, his voice laced with a mix of contemplation and revelation, “Here, I can be more than the former king of Atlantis who became obsessed with becoming the Ocean Master and killed without mercy.”

Your eyes lock with his, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze, and a blush creeps onto your cheeks.

“It wasn’t just the surface world that captivated me,“ Orm continues, his tone softening with a touch of sincerity. “It was the people, the diversity, the complexity of their lives. And then, of course, there was you .”

The admission catches you off guard, and your blush deepens. The vulnerability in Orm’s eyes reflects the sincerity of his words, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest.

“Meeting you changed everything. It made me question my convictions, my place in both worlds,” Orm confesses, a rare vulnerability in his voice.

Without hesitation, you reach across the table, your hand finding his. The touch is gentle, a reassurance that transcends words. “Orm, I’m honoured that you chose to share this with me. And I’m glad you stayed.”

His fingers entwine with yours, a silent acknowledgement of the connection that has grown between you. 

As he softly tugs you closer by the hand, there’s a magnetic pull that you gladly surrender to. The warmth of his touch, the intertwining of your fingers, and the unspoken understanding create a moment of intimacy.

Your eyes meet, and Orm’s hand, initially holding yours, gently wanders to the small of your back, creating a subtle but electric trail. The soft brush of his fingers against your clothed skin sends shivers down your spine.

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that carries the weight of unspoken emotions. The lingering taste of breakfast, with the soft pressure of his lips, creates a heady mixture that intoxicates your senses.

As the kiss deepens, your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The embrace is both gentle and fervent, a reflection of the emotions swirling between you.

In the quiet of the morning, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you locked in a tender exchange. 

Orm’s lips part from yours, but the closeness remains. His forehead rests against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. The unspoken words hang in the air, a silent acknowledgement of the depth of this moment.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. The sincerity in his words adds another layer to the shared intimacy. In response, you smile, a silent affirmation of the mutual feelings that have bloomed between you.

The initial tenderness evolves into a passionate dance, each kiss building upon the last, creating a symphony of shared desires.

Orm’s lips, once gentle, now press against yours with a hunger that mirrors the intensity of the emotions swirling between you. There’s a primal urgency in the way his hands explore, mapping the curves of your body as if committing every contour to memory. It’s a silent declaration of longing, an unspoken desire that propels intimacy to new heights.

Your fingers find their way through his hair, weaving into the strands. The sensation is electric, a tactile connection that amplifies the heat between you. Orm’s hands, skilled and confident, explore the canvas of your body, tracing pathways of pleasure that send shivers through your entire being.

Orm’s lips, warm and fervent, begin a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Each kiss is an echo of desire, leaving a searing mark in its wake. His actions speak of an unrestrained passion, a silent promise of a connection that goes beyond words.

As his lips meet your skin, a soft moan escapes your lips, a testament to the pleasure that courses through your veins. The feeling of his warm breath, coupled with the gentle suction of each kiss, creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You revel in the sensations, the mingling of pleasure and a subtle hint of pain as his kisses leave their mark. 

Orm’s murmurs between the heated kisses are a symphony of desire and revelation. His lips alternate between tender caresses and hungry urgency.

“This feels so much better than underwater, in Atlantis,” Orm confesses, the words a sultry undertone to the already heated atmosphere. 

His eyes, once a captivating ocean blue, have transformed into a darker, more mysterious hue, blown wide by arousal. The dim light of the room catches the glistening intensity in his gaze.

Orm’s hands, now firmly cradling your face, guide the rhythm of the kiss. His touch is both possessive and tender, a reflection of the depth of emotion that underscores this intimate moment. 

“I can taste you,” Orm’s words, whispered and fervent, punctuate the heated exchange as he bites your bottom lip, “I can feel you so much more intensive.”

The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you mewl in response, pressing yourself further against his thick, powerful body. 

You feel his cock, long and hard, lodged against you as he continues to devour you. 

A deep growl escapes his lips when you grind your hips, and it makes you want to hear more - feel more. Make him lose his control.

The urgency in the air intensifies, and almost frantic, you press against Orm, seeking a closeness that borders on desperation. The shared desire has reached a fever pitch, and in the heat of the moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along his jaw and down to his neck. The taste of his skin, the pulse of his arousal, and the scrap of his stubble against your lips, all fuel the urgency that courses through both of you.

As the kisses descend, you find yourself sinking to your knees in front of him. 

The shift in dynamics is palpable, the air charged with anticipation and need. Orm, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes, is a potent embodiment of desire. 

Your hands find purchase on Orm’s hips, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. The intensity of the moment is reflected in the way your touch conveys both urgency and reverence. The proximity to him, the scent of his arousal, ignites a hunger that propels you forward.

With a sense of purpose, you trail kisses along the line of his hip, your hands working to undo the belt that holds his pants. The air is thick with anticipation as you navigate the fabric, revealing more of his heated skin. The subtle gasp that escapes him in response to your actions adds another layer to the charged atmosphere.

With one determined tuck, you pull down his pants, leaving him in his briefs. 

His hard cock strains against the material, and you lick your lips in anticipation. He is big - probably the biggest you’ve ever had, both long and thick. There is a wet spot around the fabric at the head of his dick where he has already leaked precum. 

You trail your fingers over the outline and feel him throb under your fingertips. 

Above you, Orm lets out a low moan that makes all the hair on your body stand up. 

Determined, you hook your fingers in the waistband of his underwear and free his cock. He really is thick and long, darker than his skin, a drop of precum glistening on the head. 

As if on autopilot, you wrap your hand around him experimentally, not fully able to close your fist, and he bucks his hips into your hand.

You lick a long strip from the base to the head, making sure to swirl your tongue around and catch the precum, moaning at the salty, musky taste of him. In response, Orm’s thighs tense, and he groans low in his throat.

His reaction spurs you on again - you want him to lose control, to show him how good it feels to have his cock sucked on the surface.

So you take more of him in your mouth and moan around his length as you feel him heavy and hot on your tongue.

With your hand, you pump the base of his dick as you bob your head. Every now and then, a groan or a low moan escapes Orm, and you can’t help but revel in those sounds, so you continue your ministrations.

When you feel his cock twitch, you pull off.

“Fuck, please,” his voice is hoarse and strained as he pleads.

Choosing to ignore it, you lick the vein on the underside of his dick from the base to the top before swirling your tongue around the head and taking him deeper again.

Orm mutters a few curse words and tangles his hand in your hair, pulling you off his cock to stare at you.

His eyes are dark - darker than you have ever seen them - and a subtle flush has risen to cover his neck and cheeks. 

When your eyes meet, you clench your thighs involuntarily. Seeing him like this turns you on beyond belief. Finally, you have him unrestrained and hungry, and fuck you like it. 

When he tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you to his cock again, you open your mouth willingly, taking him in as he moves your head up and down.

You feel his tip at the back of your throat and tears pricking your eyes, but you are determined to take him in completely and let him fuck your mouth as he wants.

With a steady and unforgiving grip, he pushes your head down further, his cock slipping into your throat. Only due to sheer willpower do you suppress a gag as he forces you to take him so deep.

When he lets out a deep, throaty, guttural moan, you feel like you could cum only from that sight and sound. 

The lack of oxygen is getting to you slowly, so you bob your head, moving his cock down your throat before almost pulling off and sucking in a deep breath. As you catch your breath, you swirl your tongue around his tip and suck on it.

Orm’s grip on your hair tightens again, his thick fingers curling around the strands almost painfully. He holds your head in place, and his eyes lock onto yours when he starts to move his hips.

At first, he only thrusts shallowly, testing out if you’re comfortable with it, but then he starts with deeper pushes of his hips. When his dick breaches your throat again, you moan around it as your eyes flutter closed as your throat spasms around his length.

He fucks your mouth almost painfully slow, dragging his thick cock in and out of your throat, using you in a way that he likes before pushing it in completely until your nose is pressed against his stomach. 

Orm does it again, but this time he picks up the speed and almost slams his cock so deep it aches and holds your head down as you gasp around it.

When he pulls you back by your hair, you feel like you see starts, strings of thick spit connecting your lips to the tip of his dick.

He allows you one proper gasp of cool air before he starts fucking your face in earnest.

“You feel so good,” Orm groans as he thrusts in your mouth. 

Each stroke goes deep as you try to find a rhythm to breathe around him, the edges of your vision going hazy and dark. 

He pushes his dick to the hilt down your throat, and you can’t help but moan around him again.

Your cunt throbs, and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every thrust of his cock in your mouth. Never in a thousand years had you thought that this turns you on so much - if any of your exes had suggested it, you would have probably broken up with them. 

But with Orm, it feels so good. You don’t mind him using your mouth, fucking it with hard and deep strokes - you rather like it. 

You feel drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as he mercilessly shoves his dick inside your throat before pulling out and doing it again. 

“You look so beautiful like this. Wrapped around my dick - all drooling and willing,” you hear his husky voice through the haze of your thoughts as he marvels at the way you take him.

His praise surges through your veins, encouraging you even more to please him so you focus on your breathing as you take him.  

Orm’s pace is fast and hard. You’re sure your throat will hurt like hell later, but it’s so worth it. 

When you feel his hips stutter and the muscles in his stomach tightening, you know that he’s close. So you run your tongue along the underside of his dick as he thrusts, determined to make him finish.

With a loud and reverberating groan, he thrusts down your throat again, holding you there before yanking you off again and wrapping his hand around his cock, pumping it.

Instinctively, you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out while looking up at him.

Seconds later, Orm cums, and it’s a magnificent sight.

He tilts his head backwards, a cascade of blonde hair clinging to the nape of his neck. His lips part, releasing a sigh that carries the weight of ecstasy. The room, dimly lit, accentuates the play of shadows on his chiselled features. 

The subtle glisten of sweat on his skin adds a sheen to his form, accentuating the contours of his powerful physique. 

Thick ropes of cum land in your mouth and face as you sit there and take it. You taste the salty tang of his cum on your tongue as he fills your mouth.

When he’s finished, his eyes, now clouded with desire, lock onto yours, and he watches you intently as you close your mouth and swallow his cum.

Orm’s gaze remains fixed on you, a mixture of awe, adoration, and desire swirling in the depths of his mesmerising blue eyes. It’s a captivating combination that holds you in its thrall as if you’re the most enticing spectacle he’s ever witnessed.

In the glow of the dim light, every detail becomes a masterpiece of desire - his tousled hair, the beads of water on his skin, the curve of his jawline - all contributing to the visual symphony of this shared ecstasy.

Gently, you tuck him back into his pants after cleaning him up, and Orm pulls you to stand by the hand entwined in your hair.

He pulls you to kiss him, and there is a sense of urgency behind it. When he devours you, you are sure he ought to taste himself on your tongue, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s a pleasant difference from the other guys you’ve been with.

The kiss is fervent, passionate, and unapologetically possessive.

His hands, now tracing soothing patterns on your back, are both tender and firm.

Orm breaks the kiss, his oceanic eyes locking onto yours with a renewed intensity. A whispered declaration escapes his lips, “That was… magnificent. You are magnificent.”

You meet his gaze, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. 

“It was my pleasure, Orm,” your voice is a bit horse from having his cock down your throat.

“I wasn’t too rough, I hope? I didn’t hurt you?” Orm inquires, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your cheek.

A reassuring smile graces your features as you shake your head gently. “No, Orm, you were perfect. It was... beyond amazing.”

Orm’s expression softens with relief, and he places a tender kiss on your forehead, his gaze lingering on your face, which seems to be gauging your reaction. 

Leaning in, he whispers in your ear with a low voice, “Will you let me return the favour?”

You respond with a breathless mewl and clench your thighs, “Yes, please.”

With seemingly effortless strength, he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, cradling you with arms on your ass. You wrap your legs around him, savouring the width of his abdomen and the stretch as you encircle him.

He carries you to the table and gently seats you on it.

His hands find a place on your thighs, and a flicker of uncertainty colours his gaze. Sensing this, you offer reassurance, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Orm.”

In response, he blinks, the admission slipping out, “No, I want to. I’ve just never... so don’t be disappointed, please.”

A warm smile graces your lips as you reach out, placing your hand tenderly on his cheek, “I’ll be here. Your willing practice object until you’ve mastered it - I won’t complain.”

His fingers on your thighs tighten, digging into your skin, and you detect a feral glint in his eyes, making you moan.

He opens your pants, and you lift your hips so he can pull them down, leaving you in your underwear before sliding your legs over his shoulders. His palms lingerie on the tender skin of your thighs, warm and gentle.

His gaze is set on your cunt, and you’re sure there is a wet spot because of how aroused you are.

Gently, he trails his finger over your clothed cunt and looks at you.

You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips. Spurred on by your reaction, he repeats the motion a few times until you whine and beg, “Please, Orm.”

Showing some pity, he just rips your panties away unexpectedly, making you gasp when the cold air hits your soaked pussy.

He scoots in closer and trails a finger through the lips of your cunt.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he groans, holding his finger up to show you as it glistens in the ambient light.

He does it again, scraping your clit in the progress, making you moan and buck your hips. Every touch of his thick, strong fingers on your exposed skin feels like fire erupting from the spot and spreading through your veins.

“Is all that from just sucking my cock?” Orm asks, his voice low and raspy, dripping with arousal.

“Yes, Orm,” you whimper, too far gone to be embarrassed about anything, “All for you.”

With a husky curse on his lips, he scoots closer and licks a broad stripe over your cunt. 

You both moan simultaneously - you at the feeling of his tongue and him at the taste of you.

Almost as on instinct, you bury your hands in his hair, gripping the strands with your fingers.

And then his mouth is on you for good, and every thought slips from your mind. He experimentally swirls a single circle around your clit, applying slight pressure and suction.

You cry out under him, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair as you buck your hips. In response, his big hand comes to lay on your stomach to hold you down.

Orm tastes you with another wide, long lick, making your back arch off the table involuntarily. 

He eats you out achingly slow, testing what makes you squirm, shiver and arche beneath him. Occasionally, he moans or groans, the vibrations racing through your whole body, adding to the sensation. 

With tiny movements, he licks your cunt with the broad flat of his tongue against your cunt before moving upwards to your clit.

When you scream, he hooks his arms around you, pulling you even closer to his eager mouth.

“So good, Orm,” you whimper, consumed by the sensations. Railed up from sucking his cock, you know you’re already close, and it won’t take much to push you over the edge.

His licks turn even more desperate, and you feel a toe-curling orgasm approaching.  Working his tongue and jaw against your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit, adding to the delicious sensation. You know that he must be covered in your wetness, and the thought turns you on even more.

Euphoria shoots up your spine, and you roll your hips into him for more. 

Your cunt flutters, clenching around his tongue. You scream, your thighs dropping completely open in surrounder. He sucks on your clit, and you’re gone.

With his name on your lips, you cum, your body arching off the table as you flood his tongue. 

You try to catch your breath and come down when he suddenly sinks two of his thick fingers into your wet cunt. The stretch is magnificent, and when he curls them to hit that perfect spot, you scream again, your body spasming. 

“Come on, give me one more,” his voice is deep, and you feel his breath against your cunt, “I love the way you taste. Can’t get enough of it.”

His tongue continues to swirl circles around your clit, alternating with sucking the bud into his warm mouth.

If you weren’t sure if you can cum again, now you are. 

Especially, when he moves his other hand to your breast, placing his large palm over it. 

You feel the throbbing of your pussy and clit, pleasure spreading through your whole body again. Like flames licking every nerve of you.

Orm rolls his thumb over your stiff nipples, squeezing them.

It doesn’t take much for you, and he has you twisting your hips into his mouth a few minutes later, your hand falling from the grip in his hair.

His fingers curl again, finding the perfect angle. 

You feel like your head is aflame, scorching you from the inside out as you’re burning down.

This time, you come with a guttural cry, blacking out for a second, the letters of his name loosening on your tongue and the scream dying in your throat as Orm wrings you dry, eager not to miss a drop.

When your senses return, you hear distantly how obscenely sloppy your wet cunt sounds as he continues to pump his fingers. 

Your eyes flutter open as you blink a few times, trying to catch your breath, and you prop yourself up on one elbow to behold the captivating sight that is Orm between your legs.

His hair is ruffled and dishevelled, and the cerulean depths of his eyes, once filled with desire, now gaze up at you with a bright gleam. The morning light, gentle and soft, bathes his features, creating a subtle chiaroscuro that accentuates the contours of his face. Courtesy of you, his neck and chin are wet and glisten in the light.

He gives you a cheeky wink and lowers his mouth to kiss your cunt one last time before pulling back completely.

“Jesus Christ, Orm,” you laugh breathlessly, your legs feeling like jelly and your heart stuttering in your chest. If that is him not knowing how to eat out a woman, you’re afraid to feel what he can do to you once he considers himself good at that.

He rises from between your legs, a radiant smile adorning his face as he leans in to kiss you. The salty tang of yourself lingers on his lips, and you can feel the wetness on your chin and neck. The kiss is a brief yet sweet moment, soft and tender, leaving an electric warmth lingering between you.

“Would you like to visit Atlantis sometime?” he asks against your lips, his voice a blend of sincerity and anticipation. His eyes, a captivating blend of blue hues, search yours for any hint of interest or hesitation.

The idea of witnessing the mythical city beneath the waves stirs a sense of curiosity within you. Atlantis, a place shrouded in mystery and wonder, suddenly feels within reach. The invitation extends beyond the physical realm; it’s an invitation to explore a part of Orm’s identity, a glimpse into the world that shaped him.

Your gaze meets his, and a genuine smile graces your lips. “I... I’d like that,” you reply, the excitement and nervousness evident in your voice.

Orm’s eyes light up with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. “Good. I think you’ll find it breathtaking.” His words carry a promise, a commitment to sharing a part of his world with you.

“It gave me you,“ you smile, your hand gently caressing his cheek, “How can it not be magnificent.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “We’ll take it slow. There’s so much I want to share with you, and I want you to feel at home in Atlantis.”

“I appreciate that, Orm. I’m looking forward to it,” you respond, your own smile mirroring his warmth.