#let's call this a shape of water AU

[nenchainzz]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 + 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dub!con, dubious content, cult au, devotee!reader x cult leader!sukuna, true form sukuna, virgin!reader, reader calls sukuna "my lord," pet names (little one, little follower), sukuna has one cock for this story, virginity kink, corruption kink, blowjobs, nipple play, throat fucking, cum swallowing, vaginal sex, against the wall sex, biting, marking kink, mention of cervix, possessiveness, somewhat of cunnilingus (you'll see what I mean when you get there), multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, and aftercare

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Yikers, this is HELLA late, but oh well..also god damn, that's a lot of warnings, lmao

When you heard the news that you would become his new concubine, you were shocked. You’ve never even met him directly. You’ve only worshipped him from afar, but it seems as though you’ve caught his eye.

So, when he asked you to his quarters late one night, you could never refuse your God. A follower even tells you that he craves your virginity and faith. Something you are more than willing to give him.

When you’re done getting ready, you are led to his quarters, where he waits for you at his throne of apostates.

“There you are, little one,” he smiles; two arms rest on his thighs while the other two hold his head in his palm and grip the chair. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You get down and bow your head.

“My lord,” you acknowledge. “Thank you for choosing me.” He chuckles darkly. He gets up from his throne and stalks over to you, his robe barely hanging off his body. He uses one of his hands to raise your chin to face him, and when you come face-to-face with him, finally, you’re scared and excited. You see his four arms and the mouth on his stomach, the mouth you’ve only known from talk.

“Do I frighten you?” he asks with a smile. You want to be brave, but if you try lying, he’ll see past it.

“A little bit, my lord,” you tell him. “This is the first time I’ve had the honor to be in your presence like this.”

“Hmm, you sure are honest, aren’t you?” he asks, bemused. “I appreciate a woman who knows how to speak to me.” You grow hot from his compliment; you genuinely did not expect it.

“Th-Thank you, my lord,” you somewhat bow your head even with his hand holding your chin.

“How about using your pretty little mouth for another use?” he asks. “It’ll please me even more, you know.”

“Of course, my lord. Whatever it is you want,” you say. He flashes his toothy grin again.

“Such an adorable little follower,” he says and begins unwrapping his robes from his body. One of his other hands holds his cock out for you, slowly pumping it’s pink tip that’s already leaking precum. “Use your mouth for your lord.” You look up at him and then at his hard cock as if nonverbally saying you don’t think you can handle him. However, you don’t want to disappoint him, so you open your mouth. One of his hands finds your hair, pulling it towards him while two others grab your shoulders.

The head of his cock kisses your lips, allowing you to get a brief taste of how girthy his cock really is. You’ve only heard some rumors about his prominence, but seeing it is on a different level.

“Don’t be scared; you can handle it,” Sukuna says.

“Thank you, my lord,” you say out of habit. He chuckles again at your obedience. You’re shaping up to be one of his favorite devotees. With your mouth open, Sukuna thrusts his into your mouth. Every part of your body is held down by his grip as his cock is pistoned to the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with the prickle of tears while your throat closes around his cock, but Sukuna does not let you breathe. He instead drags his cock out almost and thrusts himself right back in. Your eyes begin to water from his harsh and deep thrusts. You look up at him, begging for him to be gentle, but he doesn’t give that to you.

“Can’t handle me?” he asks. “That’s too bad, isn’t it?” He holds you down tighter and moves his hips so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your choked moans and tears make him thrust harder into your mouth. His fangs bite down on his lower while his muscles flex with every move of his hips. His grunts are nothing compared to the sound of his dick in your throat. Your spit spreads across his cock as well as building within your mouth. Your tears cause your breathing to override.

Sukuna has to have you swallow his load. The mere idea causes his fingers to dig into your skin. You whimper and whine from his actions, but you know it is an honor for him to use you like this.

“For your first time,” he begins. “You’re not bad, little one.” He loves that his cock is the first you’ve ever taken. His thrusts become somewhat quicker, and his twitches within you. “Look at that, I’m gonna cum because of you.”

“Hmm,” you hum in response.

“You’re doing good, little one,” he tells you. “I think I should give you the honor of swallowing my cum.” Your big eyes watered, and begging make him even more eager. You hum, indicating you want him to. No, you need him to. He grunts loudly as his cum finally shoots down your throat, and he drags his cock out of you. He lifts your chin and watches your pained throat bob, swallowing down his seed.

“Well done, little one.” he praises you. Your face heats from your lord’s compliments.

“Th-Thank you, my lord,” you say hoarsely. He looks down at your kneeling frame and thinks about the next thing he wishes to do with you.

“I have more in store for you, my little whore,” he says. His grip helps you onto your feet and goes to the closest wall, pinning you against it. Two of his hands pin your arms up, and the other two hold your waist. “Wrap your legs around me.” You do as he asks and wrap your legs around his waist. His cock sits at your lower stomach and touches your clit; you tense up and moan. Sukuna finds your reaction amusing. “Look how sensitive you are.”

Sukuna moves his hips and has his cock meet at your entrance. The mouth on his stomach licks its lips, ready for its plan for you.

“You are so good at serving your lord, you know,” he whispers beside your ear.

“Thank you, my lord,” you say again. It’s becoming a chant by this point. He laughs and shoves his hips into yours, his cock stretching your pussy. You cry out at the feeling of his girth, molding your pussy to fit him.

“Your little virgin pussy will serve only me, understand?” he tells you. “My cock is the only cock you will ever take, understand?”

“Ye-Yes, my lord,” you rush out.

“Good,” he expresses. His lips reach your neck, and he bites down on your skin with his sharp teeth. You yell out from the pain as you know the mark of his bite will last for some time. However, you see it as a mark of your faith and devotion to you and his acknowledgment from your lord. Sukuna’s teeth graze your skin as he moves his hips and begins to fuck you. Your screams and moans delight his ears as he takes your virginity. His cock moves within you at a fast and harsh pace; Sukuna is mostly using your body for himself.

“M-My lord, ah!” you are barely able to conceive a coherent thought feeling his cock kiss your cervix.

“Keep screaming, little one,” he tells you. “Let everyone know who you belong to.” You do not hold back by his request, making no sound unheard. Your moans grow louder as you feel a tongue lick your clit every time Sukuna’s hips crash into yours. You look down to see Sukuna’s mouth on his stomach, teasing your clit with its tongue.

You feel a new sensation from the pleasure your lord gives you. Your body feels warm, and your abdomen tightens with your pussy squeezing around Sukuna’s cock. He laughs, knowing what’s about to happen to you.

“Going to cum, little one?” he asks. You moan his title in response. “Go ahead. I’m a charitable leader to my devoted followers.” With his permission, you cum on his cock, leaving your white cream to leave a small ring around his cock as it continues to thrust in and out of your pussy.

“M-My lord,” you moan. “I don’t know if…” you can’t even finish your thought with his harsh thrusts never ceasing.

“You can and you will,” he commands. “You will take my cum. You want it, don’t you? For me to breed you as mine.” Your face heats again, and your abused pussy quivers from his words.

“Yes, my lord,” you say. “I would be honored to have your cum inside me.”

“Then you shall have it,” he tells you. He moves his hips harder, and his mouth attaches itself back to your neck. The grip on your body is tighter. You babble and moan for your lord as he chases his release. Your body is tired, but your mind is intoxicated with your lord. You want him to use you however he pleases, and you are more than willing to allow him to cum within you as much as he wants. Sukuna bites down on your neck again as his cock shoots his cum into your pussy. The feeling of his cum is warm as it enters your pussy. He doesn’t drag his cock out of you but moves his arms away from your arms and allows you to wrap them around his neck. “My cum will stay in you, understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” you say.

“I will pump you with my seed later,” he tells you. “But for now, I will allow you some rest.” He moves you both to his throne, where he sits you on his lap.

“Thank you, my lord,” you say. “You’re so generous.” He laughs.

“Only for my most dedicated followers,” he responds.

♬♩♪♩♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩♩♪♩♬

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

© n0yasg1rl 2023, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, use for ai, copy, translate, or repost my content on any platform. comments, reblogs, and likes are loved

[vixensp1ce]

fem!reader, uni au

There's a stranger in your bed, and he's fucking you better than any of your boyfriends have before.

Veritas Ratio pistons into your abused cunt, puffy and raw from his tongue, fingers, and cock. It's slender but long, almost elegant in shape, reaching so deep into you that you're nearly satisfied by him bottoming out alone.

But you're not so easily filled. And it's part of the reason why you're out on town, having finally freed yourself of your previous boyfriend, looking for a good dick to get fucked by.

But no one told you a stranger's dick would be this insane.

"Giving up already?" Everything Veritas says manages to sound judgemental and disappointed. You squeeze tighter around him, whimpering as your pussy protests, but he doesn't even crack an inch. "Slut."

He has you crumpled, exhausted, every muscle twitching from your past orgasms, and still he shows no sign of stopping.

"Can't even cum for me." Those long, deft fingers release their grip on your hair. You lurch forward with a whine of relief - at least until his hand creeps down to your cunt.

"Don't- please- ah, ah, ah~"

He rubs harsh circles into your clit. Sparks rush up into your belly, slamming you shut on his hard, hard dick, the knot ready to snap.

He groans, one of a limited range of sounds you've heard from him this night, and if it was even possible, his strokes get even faster. "Don't, my ass. Make me cum, you little bi- hrrrrrrph."

The knot unravels. "Veri, Veri, please, ah, please-"

A syrupy warmth spills out over your back, and his scent fills your nose again. You whimper, legs trembling, flashing hot and cold as your pussy spasms emptily from your orgasm.

Finally, he lets go. You collapse shakily, turning over.

He's hunched over you, purple strands concealing his expression as he ducks his head to catch his breath. There's a full moon high in the sky, and even the streets have gone quiet on this Friday evening. Or Saturday morning.

Veritas lowers himself slowly onto the mattress next to you, the only indication that he'd ever exerted himself the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. His amber eyes pass impersonally over you, roving over your room as if it were his.

That was how he typically was, you'd learnt. Veritas Ratio was indifferent, coldly analytical towards the softer parts of humanity. Even in the club, he hadn't had much to say about anything except "It's too loud in here."

He was an architecture major something-or-other, handsome in the same way his blueprints were - all flat planes and sharp angles. Veritas had been eyed by a number of girls all over campus (and professors too, so it was rumoured), but his chilling attitude toward each and every one of them had spoken its own message.

Then you'd gone out with some course friends to a club. His liquid amber eyes flashed blue, green, pink under the club lights, digging into the flesh visible just above your thigh-high boots, and you'd decided, hey, why not?

His phone buzzes insistently somewhere in the room. Veritas sighs impatiently, climbing over you to rummage for his possessions. You're too sore to move much and the sudden loss of warmth stirs up an unwelcome hint of disappointment.

You listen to him move around your room for a moment. Warm breath on your ear gives you reason to turn over.

"I have to go now," he says, face inches from yours. You jump in surprise, clutching your blankets to your chest.

"Already?" Maybe you should have expected it. "Do you need a shower first?"

He hesitates. "...That would be nice, thank you."

You wave a hand lazily in the direction of the bathroom, watching him go. "And raise the door up before you latch it!" you call after him.

You hear the brief sounds of struggle, then Veritas manages. The sound of running water starts shortly after.

You let yourself lie for a moment longer, then groan and get up. The sheets and laundry would need to be washed, the house cleaned, and your work for school still needed to be tackled.

You're in the kitchen, doing the dishes, when you hear the front door open and shut.

[angelkissiies]

brute

abby anderson x reader

cw : hockey!abby , cheerleader!reader , modern!au , m*n , bigotry , usage of slurs ( fag ) , incel , alluded frat tactics ( roof*es ) , violence .

wc : 2.4K

a / n : if you see any grammatical issues , SQUINT , ive never proofread a single thing in my entire life

You shuffled into your seat, letting your bag drop onto the floor next to your feet. It was pretty quiet in the rink, the soft sound of chattering coming from the locker rooms as you settled in– fishing around in your stuff for your laptop. It was a slow day for you, only a couple classes worth of homework to complete, so you’d decided to tag along with Abby to practice for a show while you fought your calculus assignments. Since it was the start of the season, new kids had been brought onto the team which made a ton of sense as a gaggle of 19 year olds raced down the aisles toward the ice– just barely missing your water bottle. “Jeez.” You huffed, pulling your stuff further from the walkway, not willing to risk the ridiculously expensive tumbler Abby had gotten you. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to accompany her, seeing as the rink was like a second home to you, the team not minding for the most part– Abby had joked before that the judgment of a pretty girl whipped them more into shape, their plays being better when you were around compared to when you werent. 

Abby was beyond annoyed already, following behind the newbies with a scowl. This was the worst part of a new season, given that these kids didn’t know the ways of the team, not that she fully blamed them. She just hated the prospect of dealing with multiple egotistical freshmen in such a small place, their voices managing to carry throughout the entire rink. She held her skates close to her side, nudging the rink door open with the tip of her toes, settling onto one of the benches to finish gearing up for practice. Her nerves were already shot, having the captain of the men's team call up to the rink saying that he’d managed to get sick– meaning she’d be taking on both teams for drills. She’d debated calling the whole thing off, not wanting a repeat of the fiasco last year. 

“You gonna make it?” A voice called from behind her, making her crane her neck as she shoved her feet into the skates, the owner of said voice making her roll her eyes. Nora and Mel were walking together just a ways behind her, sliding into the box before the door shut, their helmets and skates hitting the floor as they sat on either side of the girl. “How much do you wanna bet she bites one of their heads off before practice ends?” The two girls had a habit of betting on her downfall and whilst she knew it was all in good fun, seeing as they held some responsibility as co-captains, it still made her heart jump. 

The blonde clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. “Don’t start this again.”

Mel laughed, glancing down to mess with the strap on her gloves. “I got fifty on it being that guy,” She began, using her head to nod towards a dark haired guy on the ice. He was laughing loud enough to fill the entire rink, the sound piercing her ears as she shook her head slightly. “That might end up being me though, super annoying.” 

Abby chuckled, easing the helmet over her braid, making sure to tuck the end into the back of her jersey. “He is really annoying, I think that’s the same guy that transferred from UW.” She added, “I heard he made a big deal out of practicing co-ed.” She slid her gloves over her chilly fingers, eying the boy for a second before bringing her gaze up to the benches around the rink– like she always did, searching for you. It didn’t take long, seeing as you always sat in the same place, her heart squeezing slightly at the sight. You were cross-legged on the bench, her massive varsity jacket swallowing you whole as you tapped away on your computer– a frown etched into your sweet face. She knew how much you hated math, so it didn’t take her long to figure out what you were doing, a smile tugging at her lips as she tore her eyes from you. 

“Let's hope he behaves, hm?” Nora sighed, pulling open the second door to step out onto the ice– holding it open for the other two. “If not, god, I don’t even wanna know.” 

The girl nodded, standing up as she double checked her mouth guard. It was especially cold, as she made her way onto the ice, a chill biting at her exposed cheeks. Her time away from the sport had reflected on her temperature gauge more than anything, making her shudder slightly. “Is everyone here?” She spoke up, coming to a stop in the middle of the rink, tapping her skate slightly on the ice. It was a habit she’d managed to pick up from you, seeing as you prefaced all of your jumps with the tinestest of taps, she carried it like a piece of you on every rink she played on. 

One of the boys shrugged, looking to the group behind him before nodding out of the rink, trading her attention for another. Their conversations were low and muffled, only a stray chortle echoing as they found a way to quiet down. She was equally grateful and annoyed. 

Abby brushed it off, doing a quick headcount as she tried to figure out how many they’d be down, her patience wearing even thinner as she tried to focus over the bickering from the group in front of her. They had a nasty habit of not coexisting on the best terms, their compliance contractual. She dropped her attention from the teams as she saw Nora waving from the side, her feet propelling her forward to meet the girl in the middle– fingers still toying with the thick mouthguard in her hand. “What’s up?” It was unlike Nora to look so nervous, setting her brow into a downturn as she bent slightly to level with the girl. “Nora, what is it?”

“We might have a problem, I'm not sure, but it definitely sounds like a problem.” 

You groaned as you snapped the computer shut, moving your now free hand to rub your temple, there was nothing less enthusing than math. The worksheets you’d been assigned were incomplete, and you only figured that out once you were pretty much done, so all of your work was for nothing– seeing as when you checked your email an entirely new set had been assigned. It was enough to make you want to drop out, the prospect of doing anymore work sending a pang into your head. You shoved the laptop back into its sleeve before tucking it back into your bag, leaning back to rest against the row of seats just above you. You pulled your wrist up to hover above you, eyes locking onto the time. You made a small noise of confusion, sitting up on your elbows to look into the rink– they all were just standing around, Abby and Nora tucked away near the middle with their backs turned to you. They should’ve already started by now. 

“Weird.” You muttered, to no one but yourself, as you picked yourself up off of the bench. You grabbed your phone from your stuff and tucked it into your oversized pocket, stepping down the rows until you were right in front of the plexi-glass– breath creating a thick haze on the chilled material. You settled into one of the rink-side seats, just simply glazing over the players before your attention was caught by a couple freshmen. They were standing just outside of a group, their conversation too far for you to hear, but their stares were hard to miss. It made your stomach churn, prompting you to sink lower into your seat as you pulled your phone out to distract yourself. You weren’t not used to men staring, it was just something that came with being a girl, though you could seem to shake the feeling of dread that had lit in your stomach as you scrolled mindlessly through your feed.

Abby’s heart was pounding in her chest, mouth set into a harsh line as she followed Nora’s hushed whispers. Internally, there were alot of things she’d considered doing. Externally, she kept her feet steady on the ice. She had to give him a chance, right? There was some underlying theme of second chances at play, there had to be– but from the grim expression on Nora’s face, she doubted it. The blood had begun to rush to her head, a loud beating in her ears pulling her from the conversation at hand, hand coming up to stop the girl in front of her. “Let me handle this–,” She began, being cut off promptly. 

“You can’t hit him, Abby.” The girl sighed, crossing her arms over her stomach as she glanced warily between the boy and Abby. “He’s just a freshman, just go– I dunno, knock him down a peg.” 

She nodded, pulling her helmet off and handing it over to Nora. “I won’t hit him, promise.” She toyed with the straps on her gloves for a moment before, also, pulling them off and tucking them into her now empty helmet. While, yes, she had no real plans to hit him– she wasn’t ruling it out. Her feet dug into the ice, pushing off into his direction, a thousand different approaches coming to mind. She couldn’t deny the anger she felt, some of the comments Nora repeated making her nauseous, though in some fucked way– that’s just the way the wold had come to be. Boys said things about you more often than not, they always had innocent intent though– something these seemed to be lacking in their grotesque banter. Abby wasn’t one to let things like this slide, everyone knew that. 

Everyone but them, as they missed her overwhelming presence behind them– still snickering behind locked arms. “The things I'd do to get her, I mean come on! Look at her.” The blonde spoke, nudging the brunette with his elbow. 

“I know, I know. Imagine finding her at a frat party, I’d like to get her a drink– if you catch my drift.” 

Abby’s jaw tensed, a heavy hand coming to lock onto the boy's shoulder. With ease, she spun him around on his skates, his lanky frame wobbling from the sudden change in motion. “Don’t speak. I don’t care what you’re getting at or what your excuse is. That girl you’re talking about isn’t available, nor would she be interested, not that it seems you’d care. Keep your rapist comments to yourself or find the door.” Her voice was low, fingers now digging into the clothed flesh of his shoulder, face a couple shades paler from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She wanted to hit him, god so bad, but she resisted– her resolve holding for the moment being. There was nothing she hated more than the audacity of men, her spine straightening as she stood to her full height– peering down at him, hoping that he would catch her drift and fuck off. 

The brunette snorted, shrugging her hold off with a cocky smile, other boy suddenly uninterested in ‘locker room’ talk. He shook his head, throwing up his hands in a mock gesture. “You feminists and calling all men ‘rapists’, you’re the real problem with society.” He jeered, looking around as if someone else would agree with him. “That girl isn’t even your problem, so why do you care?” 

An incredulous smile graced her lips as she let her arms come to rest intertwined against her tense stomach, nodding slowly. “‘That girl’ as you call her, is my business. You see that jacket she’s wearing?” She asked, taking a tiny step forward. “It’s mine. She’s mine.” It was clear, to anyone who had begun to tune into the conversation, that the last piece of self-control she had was breaking. She was pretty good about keeping her cool, usually, seeing as she wasn’t banned from the rink yet– but the look on his face made her rage double, making violence seem like the better option than just letting him go with a warning. 

“Oh, I get it. You’re a fag–,” 

You’d come out of your seat, phone angled towards the rink with the intention to snap a couple of pictures of Abby. It was something you’d taken to doing during games, a folder now dedicated in your phone to the candids. You clicked the button to snap the picture, instead hovering too long and starting up a video, making you groan slightly before peering into the screen for a moment– seeing the moment Abby’s fist collided with the boy's nose, a sickening crack filling the rink. ”Oh my god.” You breathed, glancing around to the observing parties– seeing them do next to nothing to stop the brawl. 

The boy managed to hit her once before becoming subdued by the girl, subdued meaning crumpled onto the ice in the fetal position, his hands now clasping the crooked bone protruding from the flesh. His friends had knelt down around him, hands poking around at his face in attempts to help. “You fucking bitch!” He groaned, blood leaking down his hands and seeping into the fabric of his uniform. 

“Yeah, I’m the bitch.” Abby sneered, tongue gliding over her teeth before she spat a mouth full of blood onto the ice beside him. “You’re off the team. Don’t bother coming back.” She hummed, turning on her heel to glide towards the door closest to her– your petrified face coming into view as she did so. “Practice is canceled. Go home.” She said finally, pulling the door open. 

You stared up at her, mouth opening and closing for a second before you settled on a question. “What happened?” 

The blonde glanced back behind her, the eyes of the team lingering on her, before she dipped down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. The contrast between her bloody lips and the soft cushion of her hand coming to rest on the back of your head was dizzying– but you didn’t complain, the metallic taste seeping into your mouth as you chased her lips. When she finally managed to pull away, there was a smear of blood on the flesh of your bottom lip– making her chuckle.

 “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.” 

[merakiui]

the current rotation of thoughts:

✧ camboy lyney using you for some of the various acts in his streams, and everyone just thinks you’re lyney’s partner whenever he brings you on stream. but no one knows you’re actually his step-sibling hehe. <3 try not to call him brother when he’s fucking you silly. :)

✧ creepy, gross stalker scara who watches lyney’s streams just to see you and he’s so annoyed that lyney gets to fuck perfect, pretty you. :( that should be him!!!! naturally, he has to find out what city you live in so he can pay you a visit. he’s your biggest fan, after all. <3 mouchey visits you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, but it’s not at all innocent because he’s got a knife hidden in that bouquet. and if you don’t let him in your life, he’ll take yours away.

✧ shape of water au with freminet, only he’s so obsessed with you (a mer) and is constantly at war with himself over whether he should keep you to himself or set you free in the ocean. >_<

✧ fatui harbinger lyney and you’re his secretary who arlecchino has officially appointed. oooo maybe you were his friend when the both of you were growing up in the house of hearth, but then you disappeared. how kind of arlecchino to find you (and kidnap you) and bring you back to lyney where you rightfully belong. :D

✧ scaramouche but he’s the electro archon and you’re the head priestess who worships him. his most devout follower and closest companion. i.e. ei and yae miko dynamic, and maybe you’re even a kitsune as well.

✧ shouki no kami size difference……… the most macro/micro potential of all.

✧ discord mod lyney. :)

✧ you’re the dendro archon and scaramouche overthrows you to become the new god of sumeru. also, he fucks you. <3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the water heater

lilac, chapter three

a/n: ...don't ask me how late it got when i wrote this.... i was on a roll that day and time just turned into a weird soup.

summary: “Dad, please, for the love of god, just–,” you spun around, though the unexpected figure that stepped into the low light caused your fury to fade away in an instant, “oh, uh, you’re not–, uhm, h-hi.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, totally inaccurate description of tinkering with a water heater just for the sake of making them fall in love

word count: 1137

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“Well, maybe if you just–”

“Dad! Just–…” you swallowed the rest of the heated statement that nearly escaped your lips, mentally counting to three before glaring back at the man who was breathing down your neck, “do you remember when I was 12 and you had the clever idea of attempting to install that new sink in room 5?”

Already knowing where this story was gonna go, Harvey quietly replied, “…yeah…”

“And just who, pray tell, fixed it after you made the pipes uncontrollably spurt out water, consequently flooding the entire room?”

“…you did…”

“That’s right,” you sucked on another tense breath before continuing, “so, unless you’ve somehow improved that skill since then, which, I’m sorry dad, but I highly doubt that you have, please, just let me handle it alone.”

“…alright, fine,” he ultimately backed off, nearing the basement stairs, “but I’ll be right up by the front desk if you need me.” 

“I won’t,” you called over your shoulder as you redirected your attention to the hopeless pipes, “but thanks.”

Letting the illuminated spot from the small flashlight clutched in your palm guide your vision, you checked each and every rusty tube. 

After too many pokes and prods, you finally found the source of the problem. Stepping over towards the main pipeline you bend down and reached through tickling cobwebs to turn the paint-chipped knob clockwise, shutting all of the water off.

Before your spine managed to straighten back out, you felt your blood begin to boil as you heard the sound of heavy footsteps once again ascending the crooked staircase.

“Dad, please, for the love of god, just–,” you spun around, though the unexpected figure that stepped into the low light caused your fury to fade away in an instant, “oh, uh, you’re not–, uhm, h-hi.”

“Hey,” Pete’s deep voice echoed throughout the dim space, sounding the way that hot chocolate felt. 

“Uh, not that I’m not thrilled to see you here, in my basement of all places, but, um, what are you–, what can I help you with?” 

“Nothing ma'am,” he took a step closer, “it’s what I can help you with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, Harvey sent me down here to take a look at something.”

“Oh, did he now…” that was the last you needed in order to lose your patience.  

“Yeah,” Pete’s eyes tracked your form as you riffled through the open metal toolbox and yanked out a wrench. 

“Well,” you huffed as you began to loosen the various hexagon-shaped fittings snug on the pipes spiderwebbing out from the bulky water heater apparatus, the labour of the task presenting itself in your vexed voice, “you can tell my dad that I’m still just fine and don’t need any help!” the tool on your palm then inadvertently slammed against one of the pipes, the clanging and therapeutic blow snapping you enough out of your ire to take a step back. Squeezing your eyes shut a moment, you let out a deep sigh before parting your lips once more to speak, “I’m sorry, it was very kind of you to offer your help, but I’m okay.” 

Fully expecting him to just take off, his stationary stance caught you off guard, “so, the water heater’s acting up?”

“It’s fucking ancient, that’s what it is,” you replied as you returned to twist the remainder of the fittings, “should have updated it long ago, but no, no, that never happened,” you continued to grumble mostly to yourself at this point, “of course it’s much more fun to let me handle it down the line when the hot water outlet is completely rusted over and clogged up to the point of no return, you know, that’s just so much more fun…” your words then faded away as you attempted to turn a knob that in no way wanted to corporate.

Quietly cursing underneath your breath, you tried to put all your weight into it as you strained to turn the stuck fitting. 

But just then, from out of nowhere, you felt the wrench begin to turn, but that victory wasn’t the only thing you suddenly felt. Engulfing your own, the comparatively massive hand of Pete enveloped yours as if it wasn’t even there to begin with, helping you turn it as though the metal was made out of butter. 

Blinking up at him after it finally twisted completely, his intimidating stature seemed even more towering up close. 

“Uh,” you slipped your hand out from under his calloused palm, “thank you…”

“No, problem,” you promptly whirled around to avoid his piercing gaze, busying yourself by riffling through the toolbox without any purpose whatsoever, “so your old man’s not helping you out in renovating this place?”

“Well, he’s brilliant at a lot of things, but those skills in particular have never really been in his bailiwick–, wait…” you kept your back turned to him as you asked, “how do you know that I’m renovating?” 

“People in this town like to talk, a lot,” he breathed out the essence of a laugh, “and that includes your father.”

“Ah, okay…”

Spinning around once again, you kept your eyes steadfast on the dusty pipes, though after what only felt like a second, Pete unexpectedly proposed, “hey, what do you say I lend you a hand?”

“What?” 

“Well,” hands clasped together in front of him, the digits on one of them dug into the palm of the other as he spoke, “I’m no stranger to fixing things, so it might help make it fly by a bit faster than if you try and get through it all on your own.”

Unable to detect if this was just some strange joke or not, you verified, “I’m sorry, but are you legitimately offering me your help in renovating this place right now?”

“Yes.” 

“Seriously?” you bellowed a little louder than you’d intended, earning just a small nod from him in confirmation, “I–…” you blinked back at him, downright dumbfounded, “that’s incredibly generous of you, but I can’t really afford to hire you right now…”

“Oh, I’m not asking you to hire me, just let me help out a bit.”

“Pete, I can’t let you do that, not without any form of compensation.”

“Well, then just pay me in free coffee till it’s done,” he attempted to joke, though it didn’t manage to crack a smile on your lips. 

“This is not funny, Pete.”

“No, it’s not,” he continued, still in a startlingly light-hearted tone, “you clearly don’t know yet just much coffee I tend to drink on average every day,” seeing you not budge an inch, he then dropped the attempt with a gentle nod, “fine, how about we just take a look at a price at a later date? Decide on it later when it’s all done, and you start making a profit again?” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[fleur-bbyy]

mornication /// katsuki bakugo

rating: 18+

wc: 3.5k

warnings: sex (minors DNI), pet names, unprotected sex w/ no mentions of birth control (please be smart), mentions of drunken sex (please be smart here too), phone call during sex, afab! reader (i try to not be descriptive about skin colors so all can read, but if I slip up please let me know so I can correct it), bakugo with an eyebrow piercing, hockey!au, college!au, quirkless!au, pre-established situationship, slight breeding kink, characters aged up to 21+.

just wanted to thank everyone who liked and reblogged my work in the past week! when I decided to finally post some of my writing here, i was a bit NERVY, but seeing how many people actually like and appreciate it has me giggling and kicking me feet. so thank you from the bottom of my lil heart :’)

“i cant believe we did this again.”

the room was spinning when you opened your eyes after hearing the low grumbling the male voice beside you. the rays of sunshine streaming through the blinds made it almost impossible for you to open your eyes all the way, leaving you to squint as your eyes wandered around the room. all you could pick up was that you were in some hotel before you registered your pounding head and groaned into the pillow, throwing your face down in it to try and block out the world from your eyes. some details of last night came back to you, just a few, though.

all you could remember was that katsuki and the guys won their hockey game against the school’s top rivals and that caused the after party at the club near the hotel you were staying at to be crazier than usual. you also remembered agreeing to share a hotel room with a certain sexy blonde to cut down the cost. you told yourself that you guys could keep it in your pants for one night of drinking.

clearly you were very wrong.

you were almost asleep again when the bed shifted, scaring you awake from any sleep you were about to get. you turned your head out of the pillow and looked up to see the back of the man you had shared yourself with last night.

the man you had shared yourself with for multiple nights.

he was still naked. colorful kt tape adorned his back, making little ‘v’ shapes in between his shoulder blades and lower back. after the rough game he played last night followed by an intense after party, you knew he had to be sore. you watching the way his powerhouse muscles rolled and rippled as he bent down to pull on his boxers and sweatpants over his taut ass.

your mind took over and you couldn’t resist reaching out smacking his butt while it was still naked. he jumped a bit, clearly not expecting the sudden contact. he smirked down at you as he looked over his shoulder.

“‘bout fuckin’ time you woke up.” he said as he continued dressing himself. sadly covering up his ass you were simply fascinated with and covering his upper half with a tight, wife-beater black tank.

“wish i wasn’t awake. my head is pounding.”

“mine was too. left pain meds and water on your nightstand for when you woke up.” you smiled at the thought of such a sweet gesture coming from a brash man like him. you flipped over again to face the side your nightstand was on, eyeing the horse-pill sized medication and now-melted ice water. you didn’t realize you were still naked until the blanket slid from your body as you sat up. nipples hardening as soon as they hit the cold air all hotels insist on keeping circulated throughout their rooms. you quickly took the gigantic pills and drank half of the water before flopping back onto the bed, boobs bouncing from the action. it didn’t go unnoticed by katsuki.

“nice tits.” he plainly stated, as if he were complimenting something mundane like a shirt or shoes and not a private area of your body.

“thanks, nice dick.” staring at the imprint his cock left in his sweats was like something out of a porno. even soft, the man still managed to look hung. you never thought the saying ‘third leg’ was a real thing until you met katsuki. he gave a light laugh at your reciprocated banter.

“care to tell me why you were up so early after a rough game, mister?”

“can’t let myself get behind, athlete’s gotta train, sweetheart.” your face and neck began to heat at the little pet name.

“maybe if you gave yourself a break, you wouldn’t have to doll yourself up in the pretty-colored tape.” he laughed at you again and sat down next to you, removing the part of the blanket that still covered your lower half and lightly stroking your bed head.

“then i wouldn’t have a good excuse to get you to touch me while you patch me up.” he still had that darkened look of lust in his ruby red eyes and you assumed he either didn’t have enough of you last night or you were both too intoxicated to remember. it’s not like you guys went out of your way to fuck when you were drunk, it just happened to play out that way. you couldn’t help that you both turned into to horny-fucking-bastards when you drank.

he removed one of his hands from your hair and trailed it down to one of your breasts. kneading the fat and pinching at your already hard nipple. you felt arousal start to build up in your core as you softly moaned under his touch.

“y’know,” you said in between whines, “we’ve never had sex sober.” you both gave it some thought as he continued to absent-mindedly play with your chest. you were right. every time the two of you ended up stumbling into bed together, you were always either both tipsy or completely sloshed, making it hard to remember fine details of the night’s event the morning after. all you know is that you were usually left with sore legs from whatever crazy positions your tainted heads came up with. bakugo furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about it too, the metal of his brow piercing reflecting the light. his face softened again as he looked you deep in the eyes.

“we’re sober now, aren’t we?” his pretty, infectious smile sending more jolts of pleasure down to your now-aching clit after so much teasing with you nipples. you gave him a devilish smirk as you grabbed the soft skin of his cheeks and pulled his lips down to meet yours. soon after, his tongue snakes out of his mouth and into yours. saliva mixing and rolling out of your mouth and onto your chin as the two of you shoved your faces together as close as they would go. you bit his lower lip and pulled it away from his mouth to get closer to yours, satisfied to hear that lovely groan come from his pretty lips.

you whined into his mouth when he moved his hand from your chest, your disappointment not lasting long as he moved his hand to where you really needed it. rubbing lazy little circles on your clit that lit your entire body alight. you were dripping so much that tiny droplets flew every time he completed a circle around. you were panting like a bitch in heat under his touch, already getting so desperate for release.

his pace quickened and he was able to slide a curious finger into you when he moved his body to lay atop yours. his thumb doing most of the work on your clit whilst his middle finger repeatedly hit your sensitive g-spot, making you see stars. no, the entire universe, because of his touch.

“you gonna cum f’me baby? i know you got it in ya. don’t worry about messin’ up the sheets, we’re leaving today anyways.” you felt yourself beginning to come undone from his magically skilled fingers and still-raspy morning voice. the tight, but sloppy circles on your clit sent a wave of pleasure straight to your hole every time he completed a rotation, causing your pussy to clench down onto his fast, skilled finger as that fire burning in your stomach only grew.

“kats… baby i can’t hold on for much longer.” you mewled at him, breathlessly. he kept up his pace. never moving slower or faster. determined to have you come undone at least once before he fucks you again.

“then cum f’me, sweet girl. I wanna feel you drip down my fuckin’ fingers.” his words set the fire in your stomach ablaze to unspeakable heights. you finally let go around his hand, your orgasm blinding and earth shattering. thighs shaking so violently that katsuki had to use his free hands to try and soothe them to a relaxing point.

“atta girl. you did so damn good baby.” he praised as he attempted to give you a moment to catch your breath.

“fuck me. wan’ you s’bad.” your words slurred together as you were trying to come down from the ecstasy his fingers just brought upon you. he laughed in your ear, lightly slapping your thigh as he lifted himself off from being over you and flipped you onto your stomach and into the jockey position. you felt him shuffling behind you as he pulled his cock out from the confines of his clothes and lined himself up with your inviting entrance.

“i’m gonna take care of you. don’t move a fuckin’ muscle.” and with that he pushed all the way into you, a shared moan leaving your lips and his. your eyes were heavy from your previous orgasm and from the fact you were already sleepy to begin with. the vicious pace katsuki had already set with his hips kept you from even thinking of falling back asleep. his pelvis became flush with your ass and his heavy balls kissed your abused clit with every thrust in. your warm walls sucked him in so good, as if you guys were two puzzle pieces that were always meant to be put together. your liquid arousal dripped out of you and onto him, making him loudly groan at the sight. your cute little moans made him want to bust in you already.

the pair of you were quickly pulled from your euphoric state when katsuki’s phone began buzzing so violently it almost vibrated itself off his nightstand. you both tried to ignore it, but the unrelenting buzz buzz buzz sound began to ruin your pleasant morning.

with an annoyed growl, bakugo reached over to grab his phone, his pace inside you never once faltering and he continued to pound into your sweet cunt like his life depended on it. he turned the screen to face him and saw that half the team had been blowing his phone and his personal group chat with his friends and you (you always kept them on dnd because they distracted you too easily) also ringing to life. he pulled the little half-slide trick to read the messages without them knowing he read them and found that they were looking for you both. some of them genuinely wondering if katsuki was dead because he was never sleeping in this late. he roughly slapped your juicy ass to elicit another sweet moan from you as he slid open the chat all the way.

hey man, everyone’s looking for you. wya?

yeah, we’re beginning to get worried, kacchan

and where’s sparks?

sparks. that silly little nickname given to you on your twenty-first birthday when you drunkenly tried to stick a fork in an outlet. “for science reasons” you said. nobody ever let you live it down and they still never let you around metal when you guys were drinking.

katsuki was once again pulled from his thoughts by his phone buzzing again, denki calling him now, and by the feeling of you pushing your hips back to meet his dominating thrusts. he reached down to wrap his hand around the front of your throat, “i said don’t. fucking. move.” the last three words punctuated by rougher thrusts into your sobbing, sopping wet little cunt. his ringing phone still in hand when he got an idea.

“since these extras won’t get the hint, i’m gonna answer them. think we can play up a little show, angel?” you breathlessly moaned out a “yes” before throwing your head into the pillows. your gummy walls beginning to clamp down on him harder, you were close.

he devilishly grinned as he pressed the ‘answer call’ button on his screen and put his phone on speaker, throwing it near your head so your friends could hear you loud and clear. the influx of voices bled into the air.

“thank god you answered dude! we were really beginning to freak! thought you were de- wait… what the fuck is that sound?” it was kaminari talking on the phone, but he could definitely hear the voices of kirishima and midoriya next to him along with some other voices he couldn’t quite identify in the background. he could hear the loud hum of the air conditioning, so he assumed they were still in someone’s hotel room. katsuki quickened his pace and reached around under you to rub your clit and bring you even closer to the edge. your moaning was louder, unrelenting. ready to give him all of your sweet juices.

“well? get on with it? ya really gonna interrupt me ‘n my girl having the best fuck of our lives and just go silent? or do you guys enjoy being nasty fuckin’ pervs?” my girl. his girl. your heart and pussy both fluttered at the two simple words that left his mouth. your lips breaking into a sweet, sleepy smile.

the grip his free hand had on your ass cheek once again pulling you out of any sweet thoughts you could have and back into the filthy ones. so close to release, you were teetering off the edge. the tight coil of pressure building in your stomach, begging to unravel around the thick cock of the muscular man behind you.

“c’mon, baby, show these nasty extras what you sound like when you cum on my cock.” that one perverse sentence was the one to finally throw you off the edge. white hot pleasure overtook your spent body. practically screaming his name as clear liquid splashed onto his toned stomach and dripped down his sweat pant-clad thighs and your naked ones, seeping onto the plush mattress and ruining the sheets. he held his tight black top up to avoid getting any of your messy release on it.

katsuki let out a guttural growl, “fuck yes. you hear that boys? hear how my nasty fuckin’ slut just squirted all over me?” you hated to admit it, but the thought of your shared friends listening into the two of you fuck like a digital peep show was so exhilarating to you. it was by far the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done during sex. by the pride in katsuki’s voice, you could tell he felt the same way.

his thrusts started to become sloppy and rougher, signaling that he was very close to his own release. his hips quickening as the sound of skin slapping skin also got louder and filled the thick air.

“fuck baby fuck baby.. ‘m gonna fuckin’ bust so hard. want to me cum in you? want me to fill this slutty fucking pussy?” his deep voice was laced with desperate groans as he so badly wanted to let himself go. you feverishly shook your head ‘yes’ at him, still moaning and yelling at the overstimulation.

the thought of his friends still listening in filled katsuki with a sense of pride that he’d never felt before and the sight of your naked body so weak under him making him so close to release that he could practically taste it. he began to feel his balls tighten and constrict, signaling that he was just a few thrusts away from a mind blowing orgasm. the straw that broke the camel’s back was the sight of your peachy little ass rippling and bouncing every time his hips thrusted in. a loud groan ripped from his throat as he pushed in one final time and painted your pretty walls white. the two of you were covered in a light sheen of sweat, little bits of his hair stuck to his wet forehead. some of it dripped down onto you and he used his thumbs to try and wipe some away. the feeling of rough hands performing such a gentle gesture just for you made your heart swell.

he was about to reach for his phone that still had the call going, when you lazily reached out for it instead.

“hope you enjoyed the show, boys, we’ll be down in a few!” somehow you made your sleepy voice sound so sultry it made katsuki’s softening cock twitch inside you again, like he could already go for round two. he was pulled from any thoughts of fucking you again when you wiggled your hips as a signal for him to pull out and he reluctantly did.

“what? done with me already?” he teased.

“never, just don’t want to leave them waiting for too long.” you weakly pushed yourself up and got out of the bed to head to the bathroom.

“we can leave them waiting as long as we fuckin’ please after the show we just gave them. and don’t forget to pee, i’ll have your ass inna chokehold if you get a damn infection!” he had to slightly yell the last part so it could reach your ears behind the closed bathroom door.

“whaddya think i’m doing in here, dimwit!” you yelled back. you loved being one of the few that could tease the temperamental man without having to worry about it being your last day on earth if you do. he chuckled to himself as he searched for another pair of pants to wear, now that his current ones were tainted with your juices.

you exited the bathroom as he finished redressing himself. he could tell you had just brushed your teeth due to the scowl that was always on your face after you did. he knew you abhorred the taste of toothpaste. hell, you were still using children’s toothpaste when he met you and teased you into being an adult and ditching the strawberry sparkle flavor you could actually tolerate. he nudged your shoulder and pointed at your still half full glass of water, telling you without words to drink it to get rid of the taste.

you finished the glass began to pick up your clothes and dress in silence. you both loved the domestic feel in the room after you made love. this time, though, you would actually be able to remember it since you guys weren’t drunk of your asses.

“can’t believe we did this again.”

“you’re telling me. call me crazy, but i’m beginning to think you actually like me or something.” you stated with fake shock in your voice.

it took both of you until now to admit it, but you were both tired of just being a drunk hookup buddies. trying to make this situationship or whatever clearly wasn’t happening since you were always yearning for something more. yearning for more time together. yearning to be something bigger, better than just fuck buddies.

“well miss, i don’t believe you’re crazy. just a little stupid.”

“hey!” you swatted at his thick bicep.

“y’know i’m just playing, princess.” he walked around to your side of the bed to help you pack your clothes together as his were already done, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek as he bent down to get your leftover things.

“I don’t know mister, I think you’ll have to take me out to prove that you’re just playing.”

“take you out now?”

“yes sir!” you ruffled his pretty, blonde locks and gave him a playful salute. he shook his head and took your bags from you. insisting that he carry yours and his. your heart pounded a little faster in your chest at the sweet gesture.

“‘s a date then,” he smiled at you as he gathered your key cards and left them on the table where they were when you arrived, “and stop calling me sir before ‘m forced to take you again.”

“you don’t have the energy to do it again!” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

“oh yes i sure ‘s hell do. one look at your ass and ‘m ready to go again.” he playfully smacked your ass and wolf whistled at you, causing a light yelp to escape from your lips. even though he carried both of your bags, he still managed to open the hotel room door for you.

“okay. I guess I can be good for you, sir.” you said, slyly as you walked through the opening and out into the carpeted hallway.

“you’re on thin fuckin’ ice, sparks.”

“as long as i’m with you on the ice, i couldn’t give two shits.” you got on the tips of your toes to kiss his soft, pink lips. he moved his mouth in tandem with you, neither of you wanting the lovely moment to end.

you ended up pulling away first after losing your balance from staying on your tiptoes for too long. he offered you his available hand to help you gain your footing, but even after you were stable again, he didn’t let go.

“ready to face those extras downstairs?”

“readier than ready.” you said with a slight giggle. you weren’t easily embarrassed by sex. with all honesty, the thought of your friends getting flustered by hearing to two of you made you want to either cream your pants or physically laugh out loud.

you trickled out of your thoughts when you noticed that katsuki’s hand was still intertwined with yours, still not attempting to pull himself away for you.

you smiled and quietly sighed with delight as you kept walking down the hotel hallway to reach the elevator. you didn’t let him go, either.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

To Be Human (Monster! William Afton x Fem! Reader Beauty and The Beast AU) - Part I

Hello hello! First and foremost I would like to wish a huge belated Happy Birthday to my dear friend @yellowbunnydreams this whole AU is dedicated to her 💜💜💜 If you like princesses and castles and ball gowns and Will being a giant fucking monster definitely give this a read, I think this story is going to be very fun! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: Mostly plot/set up, Will's kind of a dick, kidnapping I guess but not really, it's a Beauty and The Beast AU there's going to be some underlying themes of Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Not proofread, sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,849

Part II (TBA)

You squeezed your legs harder against your horse’s sides, promoting him to run as fast as he possibly could. Tears sting your eyes as you race through the forest, sharp branches snapping at your face, your haste not allowing you time to care about watching out for them. The heavy gallop against the damp, muddy earth, quickly turned into loud, clattering hooves that fell against the cobbled path that formed at the opening of the tree line. The dark castle twisted up into the black sky, its gnarled, jagged appearance not much different than the branches that tangled the perimeter of the clearing. Your body instinctively jolted as a loud clap of thunder rang out across the courtyard, a crack of lightning illuminating the night. You found a small spot of shelter to tie up your horse, pulling the hood of your cloak as far forward as an attempt to stop the rain from pelting you in the face. You were already soaked to the bone, your dress clung to your body, your hair fell in long stringy tendrils across your face. You hurried up to the large castle doors, having to throw your full weight against it in order to get it to move. The creak that came from the ancient hinges was nearly deafening as it echoed through the grand foyer inside. “Father!” You call into the pitch black room, barely being able to make out the shape of the grand white marble staircase that took up a large portion of the space. You hurried inside, pushing the door shut behind you with a strangled groan. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, being so careless left you with a major possibility of losing your life. Your father had been taken captive by the tyrannical monarch who resided in this palace. “Please, answer me! Where are you!” You continued to call.

At this point you didn't care about what could happen to you, you were more concerned about what had happened to him. You raced up the stairs, nearly slipping in the water that streamed off your body, leaving small puddles in your wake. You continued to call out for him as you ran through the halls, your voice echoing off the grand arched ceilings. You hear someone shout your name from deeper inside, your head snapping in the direction of a door you hadn’t noticed. You ripped it open to reveal a winding stone spiral staircase that seemed to lead up impossibly higher into the castle. The heavy wrought iron handle slammed against the wooden barrier, the loud bang echoing through the halls. You could hear thunderous footsteps hurrying in your direction, someone was coming. You hurried in the direction of your father's voice, your hands wrapping around the thick metal bars as you saw a cell with a single candle inside. He calls your name again, this time in a soft harsh whisper. “What are you going here? Leave before he finds you.” His eyes darted down the stairs. “My darling girl, I love you too much to have you resolved to a fate like this. Leave me, take care of yourself.”

“I'm not leaving here without you.” Your voice trembles as you speak.

“You have to, if he catches you I'm not sure either of us will survive.” He explains quickly. “Go.”

“So, this is your insolent little brat.” A voice growls from the darkness.

“Your Highness she came-”

“I don't believe I ordered you to speak, farmer!” The voice snarls. “I thought I was being generous, allowing you to pay off your debt for stealing from my prized garden. Now you're responsible for another trespasser.”

“I'm here to take his place.” You step in front of your father, blocking him from the Monarch's view.

“Absolutely not-”

“This is your last warning farmer, step out of line again and it'll be your head.” He snaps. “Now, as for you.” You could feel him sizing you up despite the fact you couldn't see him. “You want to take his place, hm?” Your eyes widened as he stepped into the dim light. You scramble back, his monstrously tall form too close to you. A white linen shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, thick, light brown fur streaked with grey flowed out of its deeply plunging neck. His fingers were tipped with sharp, black claws, fur matching his chest seeming to cover every exposed area of skin. Long ears swooped towards the back of his head, tied at the nape of his neck like a ponytail. The soft rounded muzzle of a rabbit was a stark contrast to the intimidating energy that rolled off of him in waves. Darkly lined silver eyes studied your much smaller form from his towering advantage. “Your father promised me servitude for the rest of his pitiful life just so I wouldn't take it away from him, is that something you're willing to give up?” His eyes narrowed, you swore you caught the faintest sight of sharp canines situated behind his squishy nose.

“If it means you'll let him go, then yes. I'd do anything.” You make your best attempt at sounding strong, you could see from the sneer that stretched across the creature's face that it wasn't working. He scans over your shaking form, your hands balled into tight fists at your side.

“You're free to go, farmer.” He quickly takes the heavy wrought iron keys from his very pocket and tossed them at you. You yelp at the sudden action, stepping to the side and letting them whizz past you and clatter to the floor. “It’ll be nice to have a new pet around for a change.” He spits before turning in his heels and disappearing into the darkness. The moment he was out of sight you scrambled for the keys, slotting them into the lock and ripping the door open. Your father crushes you in a hug, cradling your head against his chest as you break down into tears.

“I'm sorry, you got into this mess because of me and I am so sorry.” His voice cracks as he attempts to comfort you. “I'll bring others, we’ll get you out of here, you just need to buy yourself some time.”

“I'll be okay.” You sniff, wiping harshly at your eyes. “You just focus on getting out of here and back to town, but do not come back with the others.” You lower the volume of your voice, attempting to check around for the beast that lurked effortlessly amongst the shadows. “I will find a way to get myself out of here. It's too dangerous for anyone to come save me.”

“I'm not going to leave you here with that monster.”

“You don't have a choice.” Hearing you say this out loud, your father knew you were right. “If we disobey him, he would kill us both before we even had a chance to argue. Now come, I brought Etienne, he should have enough strength to get you to the next village from here.” You tried your best to remember the way you had come, winding up getting stuck at a few dead ends before finally stumbling into the massive foyer once more. You both looked around, the beast was nowhere in sight.

“Come, if we hurry we can get out before he-”

“Now, now.” Your blood ran ice cold at the sound of the voice. “You've both made it so far, I'd hate to have to take drastic measures.” Your breath caught in your throat as he dragged a long claw across your neck, pausing over your pulse. “Leave this place and never come back. If you do, I'll kill her and make sure you're not around long enough to tell about it.”

“Go.” You locked eyes with him, both of you understanding the severity of the situation in an instant. You stood deathly still as you watched your father slowly descend the stairs and slip out into the storm.

“Such a shame.” His claw leaves your throat, his hand harshly squishing your face. “You really are a pretty little thing. Now, you're going to be stuck here, withering away until you're nothing but an old crone.” He chuckles as he pushes your face away with his thumb. “Pathetic.”

“What are… what are you going to do to me?” You stutter.

“There's a lack of good company in this castle.” Your eyes trained straight ahead as you listened to him pad slowly behind you. “Your job is to sit there and to not get yourself into any more trouble.” He says sternly. “When I've determined whether or not you'll be of any use to me I’ll give you a more specific set of tasks.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I'll kill you.” Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought. You stared at the door, a million thoughts racing through your head. ‘Maybe if I ran I would be able to get enough of a head start to make it out.’ You jolted as a warm, soft hand wrapped around your wrist. “I wouldn't act on whatever idea is rattling around in that head of yours.” His lips pulled back into a snarl, now giving you a much clearer view of the sharp canines that filled his mouth. “The more you struggle and resist the harder this is going to be for you.”

“So you're just going to keep me as your prisoner until I die alone in that cell?” You spit at him.

“Oh, that all depends on you, my dear.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I hadn't caught your father stealing from my prized garden with his filthy hands neither of us would be in this mess, now would we?” He grabs you harshly by your shoulder, dragging you up the hallways behind him. “If you want to take the place of a thief you are to be treated like a thief. You can either behave and accept the consequences and make your time here much easier on yourself or you can scream and cry and carry on like I'm expecting you to do. But trust me sweetheart, I am not a very patient man, it would do you well to be in your best behavior if you want to continue to have any hope of ever getting out of here alive, do I make myself clear?” You're roughly shoved to a stop, your shivering form now standing in front of the same dimly lit prison cell that had previously held your father. You stumble slightly as he shoves you inside, the door slamming loudly behind you.

“I'll bring you a meal in the morning, until then I don't want to hear a sound out of you.” He gives you a warning look before slinking into the darkness. You stood in silence, the only sound came from your shaky breath bouncing off the walls. The slow squeak of the hinges closing on the door below signaled that you were left alone. You took a few steps backwards, your shoulders bumping into the wall before you slowly slid to a sitting position. A steady drip of water splattered against the floor overhead, the soft squeaking of the rats that poked around curiously just outside of your cell made your skin crawl. You were in a complete state of shock. Just this morning you were harvesting berries from the garden to make preserves for the market in town, now you weren't sure if you would ever see the light of day again. What felt like days had passed when in reality it had only been a couple of hours. You huddled into the back corner of your cell as you heard the door open once more. You perked up at the sound of two voices you didn't recognize bickering from the stairwell below.

“I cannot believe he would do something so… so… revolting! To lock anyone away up in this old tower, especially a lady-”

“Sunny, you're acting like His Royal Highness is some sort of lap dog. Just be happy she’s still alive. The last time someone stole from his garden it didn't end up nearly as pretty.” Two tall figures stepped into view, the hallway too bright for you to make out any defining features. “oh, look at her, the poor thing is terrified.” The female voice of the pair coos.

“Honestly,” her male counterpart snaps, “for a king he has absolutely no manners!” A heavy key is slotted into the lock, the door quickly opened as one of the figures steps inside. Long white sleeves billow down his stick thin arms, a red velvet vest embroidered in gold thread molded perfectly to his torso, a pair of striped pants in matching colors ballooned at his ankle. Golden points whirred around your saviors face, a permanent smile carved into the features of what you were assuming was a mask. “My dear girl, are you alright?” He cautiously offers his hand to you, not wanting to startle you by moving too quickly.

“Who-” your brow furrowed as the second figure stepped into the light. You're met with the sight of a long snout tipped with a shiny black nose, her long, multi-colored hair tied into a long braid down the middle of her back. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sundrop,” the jester smiles warmly at you. “And this is Roxanne.” He motions to the wolf behind him. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, what might your name be? Our lovely little captive.” He helps you to your feet, Roxanne keeping her distance from you as you mumble out your name in response to Sundrop’s question.

“You do know you're going to get in a lot of trouble if you take her out of here, His Majesty is not going to be pleased.” Roxanne shoots Sundrop a warning expression.

“And when did you become so uptight? You're really going to let her freeze up here just because he's having a bad night?” He argued with her.

She sighs, shaking her head in response. “No, no that wouldn't be right.” She picks up the candle, holding it out in front of her to light your path. “Let’s bring her to Moon, he’ll have a better chance of keeping her hidden until you can figure out a plan to explain yourself.” You found yourself tucked safely in between the two of them, both of them surveying every darkened hallway and slightly ajar door as they led you through the empty castle halls. You eventually came to a stop in front of a wooden door that looks no different than the other hundred you had already passed. Roxanne reaches out, softly tapping against the barrier with one of her claws. There was a loud crash, followed by some muffled cursing as whoever was inside made their way over.

“Roxanne, I thought I specifically told Sun-”

“I know you're busy, but this is urgent. Your brother,” she shoots an accusatory look towards Sundrop, “has decided to get himself directly involved in the King’s affairs.” There was a tense silence as Sundrop stared back at whoever was on the other side of the door, still blocked from your view.

“You can't be serious.” The voice sighs before letting out a small sound of distress. “What was it this time? Knocked over one of the busts in the hall? Trying to get back at him for calling you unfunny-”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know-”

“Gentlemen!” Roxanne cuts off the argument before it has much of a chance to get started. “You can fight later, it's only a matter of time before he figures out that she's left her cell.” The hidden figure clambered into the hall, paling when he saw you standing alongside the others.

“You took one of his prisoners?” He whispers harshly in Sundrop’s face.

“I am not just going to leave a poor young woman up there to freeze to death. I will do whatever the King asks of me but I will not let him torment an innocent bystander.” He instantly rebuttals. “He’ll come around, I just need to warm him up to the idea.”

“Or he'll dismantle you the moment he gets his paws on you.” His brother scoffs.

“Moon, you know as well as I do, what that man needs is a companion. He's spent so long locked up in this god forsaken castle for so long that all he has left is us.” Moondrop’s gaze drifts over to you, his expression softening as he studies your terrified features.

“You are to go smooth this over at once. I'll keep her here with me in the meantime.” Sundrop thanks his brother excitedly, Moon pressing a comforting hand in between your shoulders as he guides you through the door. “Make sure he understands that this was your doing and not hers.” Moon warns before hurrying you inside, leaving your fate entirely in the hands of these three strangers you had just met.

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll (if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Sweet as Honey(moon)

A/N: Okayyy let’s escape away to Greece for some sexin, shall we? Just as a reminder these are all part of my little SHAPE OF YOU AU

The Prompt: The Honeymoon 😈

Requested by: loveliest of lovelies @dawnsutopia

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Word Count: 9.4k (back to my self-indulgent waysss)

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Rated Tre Explicit, Minors DNI

CW/TW: This is a...how you say...a fook-est? I mean our couple is on their honeymoon after all. We have fingering (f receiving), indecent things with Marc’s wedding bad, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v sex, anal sex, pool sex, nipple play, lingerie, the boys being co-conscious during sex, dirty talk, spanking, nipple play, a brief mention of “dumbification” (which this fandom taught me about btw so 😳), light spanking, mucho aftercare, teasing, exhibitionism though it’s not specified if anyone sees or hears them, squirting, multiple orgasms, and fluff!

“On behalf of all of us, welcome to Mykonos,” the polite-to-a-fault receptionist said as he activated your keycards, “and congratulations on your nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Spector.” 

You grinned so widely at the use of your new surname your face could split in half. Despite a turbulent four hour flight from London and being hungover as shit, you were deliriously happy, leaning into Marc’s side —your husband’s side— while you checked into the resort where you’d be spending the next ten days on your honeymoon. 

You two had kept the wedding on the smaller side. The ceremony itself had been incredibly private and intimate, just you, your boys, your parents and a trusted rabbi at a local synagogue. This was so that you could exchange vows with Marc, Steven and Jake each individually. Afterwards, you’d booked the Gallery Room at the ever-so-posh Bluebird in Chelsea to host a reception for forty friends and extended family. 

The more subdued – though still somehow overwhelming to plan – wedding meant that you and your husband could splash out on the honeymoon, which is exactly what you’d done with the resort you’d booked here in Greece. The stunning beauty of the island didn’t hit you until you were being escorted to your room and could take in the stark white walls, ancient stone, clear blue sky, and even clearer, bluer water for yourself. 

Your suite echoed the landscape, eschewing any color or even decor on the walls for crisp white plaster and massive windows that framed picturesque views of the ocean. Everything from the furniture to the linens were warm neutrals and earth hewn materials. The focal point of the space was no doubt the sliders flung wide open led to an ample balcony that boasted a plush daybed and a small private pool. It was a dream come to life as far as you were concerned. 

The bellboy unloaded your luggage and after he left with a tip, you and Marc launched yourself at each other. He tackled you back onto the large plush bed. 

“This is insane,” you managed to pant in between kisses, “it’s even more beautiful here than I thought it’d be.” 

“Good,” Marc grunted, stripping out of his t-shirt and swiftly moving to discard his joggers as well. He was getting right to it then. 

Last night seemed to whiz by in a blur of laughter, alcohol, dancing, and toasts to the happy couple. Unlike the romance novels you’d read as an adolescent, your wedding night was not the raucous night of passion that had graced the pages you’d secretly devoured. You and your husband were exhausted. Though between the three of them, Jake was able to get it up and indulge in some soft, sleepy, tipsy sex in missionary before the pair of you conked out. 

It felt as if you’d only closed your eyes for a few minutes when the car service woke you with their courtesy call to inform you that they were outside, and you both napped on the plane. Now however, it seemed that Marc was rearing to go. 

He rid you of the tacky, but incredibly comfy, bride-themed matching sweats your uni friends had gotten for your hen do as a gag gift and you couldn’t help but giggle while you rolled around together on top of the bed. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Spector,” you echoed breathily while Marc nibbled on your ear, grinding his already rock hard erection into your bare leg. 

“Has a nice to ring it,” he murmured. Layla hadn’t taken his name when they had wed. It didn’t bother Marc, more and more women were choosing not to, and she had her own reasons for keeping her maiden name. But the fact that you’d wanted to, that you were happy to become a Spector despite all the baggage that name held, made Marc’s heart soar.

“Mmmmhmm,” you agreed. “A good thing since we’ll be using it for quite a while.” 

“Forever,” your husband specified, parting your folds with his fingers. 

Your eyes were drawn to the platinum band that now encircled his left ring finger. “Forever.” 

Marc caught you watching him and a wicked idea formed in his mind. Steven raised the concern if it was sanitary, yet Jake quickly overruled him and told Marc to do it anyway. Those two truly felt like the trope of the devil and angel on his shoulder sometimes. 

Instead of easing his index or middle finger inside of you to begin prepping you for his dick, Marc penetrated you with his ring finger. You gasped at the audacious move, letting out a little yelp when you felt the precious metal of the ring breach your entrance, warm from Marc’s skin but still cooler than the heat of your cunt. 

Marc’s dark eyes gazed up at you from those ridiculously long eyelashes of his. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” came your breathless reply. The both of you stared mesmerized as his finger plunged in and out of your pussy, enthralled with how Marc’s wedding band would disappear and re-emerge from your cunt. 

Soon your sounds indicated to Marc that you needed more, and he was all too happy to comply. His middle finger joined the other digit, making sure you were stretched enough to take his cock, which currently was so hard he likely could cut glass at this point. 

Your husband tugged on your hips, positioning your bum on the edge of bed to lock your legs around him. He took his cock in hand and entered you in a smooth shove of his pelvis. You both moaned at the feeling of becoming one, as if it had been weeks since you’d been together like this and not a matter of hours. 

Marc was eager, you could tell from the way he jackrabbited his hips into you. It was the kind of rough fucking that emptied your mind of everything but the stretch of your tight channel around his considerable girth. You were all too happy to succumb to it, you were in Greece, the wedding was over, and all of your responsibilities were thousands of miles away in London. 

His hand found your clit quickly and rubbed the bud with harsh strokes. You gasped and dug your heels into the bottom of his back to pull him closer. 

“Not going to last long,” Marc revealed while he hammered you, “wanted you since we woke up.”

“That’s okay honey,” you soothed him. After all, you’d gotten some last night. A little shiver ran through through you when you realized this was the first time you and Marc were having sex a married couple. Marc Spector, the man who was so convinced he was unworthy of happiness and did everything he could to push you away, was now making love to you on your honeymoon. 

He dropped down lower, his hands covering your breasts, which sent another, more prominent shiver through you as Marc chased his release. The movement of his hips switched, his thrusts became grinds, which allowed your clit to receive some stimulation too.

You studied Marc’s face fondly, enjoying the view of his Adam's apple as it bobbed, the short black hair that was beginning to curl from the sweat gathering at his hairline, and of course, that face, so handsome and contorted in pleasure, only made more beautiful when he spurted his hot seed inside of you. 

After he came down, Marc fell onto his forearms to nuzzle your face with his. 

“Hi,” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and squirmed at the attention. 

He gently took his cock from your pussy, then knelt before your slit at the side of the bed. 

“Hun…”

Marc knew that tone of voice of yours, it was the inflection you used when you told him “not to worry about it”. He cursed all the men that’d allowed you to think that your pleasure wasn’t as, if not more important, than his. Marc bit the inside of your thigh playfully to stop you. “Hey, I’m fulfilling my husbandly duties here, okay?”

You surrendered with a shy little grin. He knew tossing a reference to your newly minted marriage would end your protests. Marc got to work, licking a stripe up your folds to taste the two of you before sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you to stimulate your g-spot. Whines and shaking legs soon followed as you came on Marc’s thick digits. 

Before he could rise fully to grab a cloth for you, you grabbed his wrist and sucked his ring finger into your warm, wet mouth, fellating the band with your tongue. Its metallic taste was new to you and honestly, rather unpleasant, but the way Marc looked at you while you did it was well worth it. 

“Fuck baby,” he groaned once you released him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, “I really pounced on you just now, didn’t I?”

You sat up too. “No complaints here.” 

Marc drew you up to standing to kiss you and the both of you tended to yourselves in the bathroom. You took turns relieving yourselves and Marc splashed water on his face. You emerged from the little stall for the toilet with a request. “We should cool off in the pool.”

Your husband cocked a brow. “Bathing suits optional, I’m assuming?” 

“What’s the point of having a private pool if you’re not going to skinny dip?” 

“And people think I only married you for your beauty,” he joked. 

This had to be heaven, you concluded. You and Marc floated in the pool together for a little while, both made speechless by the beauty of the Aegean before you, then toweled off and dozed in the shade together on the daybed. 

When you roused, you automatically pecked the dip that ran between your husband’s pecs, just under his chain with the star of David. When your eyes met, you could tell by the softness in them and the little quirk of his lips that it was Steven gazing back at you. 

“Well hello Mrs. Grant,” he murmured. Though technically on paper you’d taken the surname Spector, you planned to use Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lockley respectively when the other boys fronted. 

“Hello yourself Doctor Grant,” you beamed back. “Happy honeymoon.”

“Happy honeymoon indeed,” he concurred, “This is the ideal way to wake up, I think…naked, you in my arms, and with ocean views.” 

“I can’t help but agree. Come back in the pool with me.” 

Steven followed you, both of you luxuriating in the cooling water. Even though it was pretty big for an in-room pool, you two refused to spread out. Steven held you into his arms once again, so close to one another you could distinguish each and every droplet of water that clung to his neck, collarbones, and face. 

Your lips drifted together in a liplock that quickly escalated and deepened. Steven’s large hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze, lifting you to walk to the edge of the pool. He parted your legs while you procured a towel to sit on. 

You continued to trade deep, passionate kisses while Steven stood still half-submerged in the water between your thighs, the sun warming your skin as you got lost in each other. His lips drifted down to your neck and clavicle, and his fingers found your core. He began with gentle touches and strokes between your folds, inserting a finger to feel your wetness and the remnants of his alter’s cum. 

“Baby,” you gasped when his thumb pressed into your clit. 

“What do you want, darling?” He rasped. 

“Your mouth,” you told him without hesitation, “then fuck me Steven.” 

He deferred, musing as he descended to your cunt, “We do have to consummate our marriage after all.”

Your clever response was eclipsed by a whimper when Steven began to eat you out. Still sensitive from your lovemaking with Marc from earlier, each lick and swirl of Steven’s tongue had you feeling like a live wire. His mouth had you just on the other side of too much, your husband working his signature magic on your twitching cunt while you leant back on your hands. 

“You taste so good,” Steven panted as he briefly pulled away for air. “Could eat this pussy forever Mrs. Grant.” 

“Please do,” you exhaled, only half-joking. 

He chuckled lowly, returning to your core, his tongue dancing on your clit and pushing into your hole. His nose was pressed perfectly into clit while he tongue-fucked you, so perfectly that you found your orgasm blindsiding you, suddenly snapping in your groin and flooding you with bliss.

When your eyelids at last fluttered open, your climax subsided, Steven gazed at you with adoration. “You’re so bloody gorgeous.” 

There was nowhere to hide your blush given that you were stark naked sitting on the poolside tile. “You’re so bloody good at that. Let me take care of you, I bet that big dick is just aching for me, isn’t it?”  

Steven agreed by pulling you back in the water, hooking his elbows into the bends of your knees and pressing your back into the wall of the pool. You took a hold of his erection, velvet-covered steel in your hand, and guided your husband inside of you below the water’s surface. Steven groaned when he entered you, and scooted you up the length of the wall so your back arched against the side of the pool. Your head rested on the towel, the position exposing your breasts to the warm air, allowing Steven to tongue your nipples as he pushed inside of you. 

The way Steven made love to you couldn’t be more different than how Marc had. Steven was slow, languid, and worshipful feeding his member into your cunt. Even though he was splitting you apart on his fat cock and filled his mouth with your tits, it didn’t feel like you could get close enough. You dug your fingertips, still sporting your wedding manicure, into the tile on either side of your bodies in an attempt to anchor yourself. The universe shrank to just you and your husband, the feel of him — so hot and hard inside of you — and the small rectangle of water you were fucking in. 

Steven angled his hips so the head of cock could brush against your g-spot and rub his pelvis against your clit. The combination was devastating but he entreated you, “Go on, love, can you give me one more? Know you can do it….wanna see your pretty face while you come.” 

You’d had three orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but Steven was ruthless in the most tender way possible, cooing into your ear and coaxing yet another release from your quaking, over-stimulated body. The spasming of your pussy around him resulted in his hips picking up pace and frantically suckling on a nipple while his climax crashed over him. 

“Wow,” he marveled after you separated. 

“That about sums it up,” you giggled, dunking under the water to re-wet your hair, “and to think we have ten days just for us.” 

***

The pair of you eventually did unpack and leave your room. You’d never had so much space in your suitcase before, since the majority of what you’d brought were swimsuits, skimpy lingerie and a few sundresses for meals and sightseeing. 

You put what you packed to use the next evening when you and your husband went to dinner in town. The night began in a breezy, white satin slip dress. Jake held your hand as you two strolled back to the resort, both of you giddy, inebriated from the wine at dinner and each other’s presence. 

Jake began humming some Spanish song you didn’t recognize, twirling you and pulling you under his arm as you navigated the uneven but mostly empty streets of the neighborhood. Marc and Steven were shy about it, but they had a great voice, and you soaked up every moment Jake would sing with unfettered delight. 

He ducked down to kiss you, whispering “Eres mi reina” when you broke apart. 

“Te amo,” you sighed back. 

Jake re-captured your lips, and next thing you knew, your back was against the side of a building as he attacked your mouth. It took a Herculean amount of self-control to withdraw your lips from his, but you had to or else you’d start fucking in the middle of the street. While you two shared a fondness for a bit of exhibitionism, that wasn’t exactly the vibe you were trying to achieve on your honeymoon. “Papi, let’s go inside.”

Your husband ignored you, his hands creeping down to your ass and kissing below your ear. 

“I’ll make it worth your while…”

That got his attention. Dark eyes glittered in the street lamplight as they searched yours.  “How?” 

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” you teased. 

From there on, Jake followed you back to your suite like a puppy. Once you’d returned to the privacy of your room, you pushed Jake back on the bed and ordered him to wait, then disappeared into the bathroom to change out of the dress and into a white bustier and panty set that managed to be lacy, sheer, strappy and somewhat tasteful all at once. 

You remerged and Jake instantly muttered a “Joder” at the sight of you. 

You did a little spin for him to get the full view. “Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda?”

“No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy,” he corrected you in a growl. “Ven aquí.”

“Come get me,” you challenged him. 

Jake leapt to his feet and chased you around the suite. You evaded him in a fit of giggles, but you were no match for your ex-military, ex-superhero husband. He circled his arms around your waist, lifted you from the ground, and tossed you onto the bed in one swift move. 

“Naughty,” he rumbled, caging you between his meaty thighs and while he rid himself of his shirt, then moved to unbutton and unzip his linen trousers to free his raging erection. Once he’d taken them off, plus palmed himself to take some of the edge off, he began exploring your body with his hands. 

“This is too pretty to rip off of you,” he mused, tracing the waistband of your tiny thong. But Marc’s voice had said it. 

“Oh, hi babe,” you greeted him, a little startled. 

He kissed you hello, grinding against your cloth-covered core, “Hi baby.” 

As much as you enjoyed the feel of his length against your soaked panties, you had to ask, “Everything ok with Jake?” 

“Yeah, we just thought we’d maybe try being co-conscious tonight, if that’s ok? Be a little more fast and loose with the switches?” 

Now there was an idea. In the past, one of the boys may have fronted momentarily while you were intimate with another, you’d never had sex with them fully co-conscious, to your knowledge at least.

“Okay,” you consented. “Just don’t get cross with me if I accidentally call someone by the wrong name.” 

Marc fixed you with a warm, lopsided smile, “We’ll take it easy on you…to start.” 

“Good,” you pulled him into another kiss. When you two broke apart, Steven was grinning down at you. 

“Now this is just darling,” he mused, tugging the cups of your bustier down to free your breasts. He wasted no time attaching his skilled mouth to your left nipple to lavish his attention on your sensitive peak.

You mewled, eyes screwed shut, and your hand shot down to Steven’s boxer-briefs to grope him through the fabric. 

Steven switched nipples with a rumble in his chest and once you were face to face again, Jake asked you “Will you suck Papi’s cock in your pretty outfit?” 

“Por supuesto Papi.”

You flipped over, reorienting yourselves so Jake was on his back and you were straddling his legs. You discarded his boxers and did your best to make a show of lapping at his tip, mouthing at the head and using your tongue to play with it. 

“Joder si, nena,” Jake heaved, trying to keep from bucking into your mouth without warning. “Just like that.” 

You worked your mouth down on his length, and you spotted who you thought was Steven craning his neck to watch you swallow his dick down your throat with your tits still out. “Bloody hell.”

You chuckled around his erection, the vibrations sending a shiver through Steven’s spine. Or wait, was that a Marc sound? 

“Don’t stop,” Jake urged you. You obeyed happily, licking the circumference of his cock to wet it, then wrapping your palm around the appendage to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth while you went to town on him. 

You could tell your boys were close by the way their right leg twitched, but before could take them into the home stretch, a hand pulled you off their cock by your hair. 

“Jake doesn’t get to come just like that,” Marc growled, wrapping his own hand around the base of his manhood to stave off his orgasm. 

“Fuck you,” Jake vollied quickly before Marc reclaimed the body and eased with you a kiss. “Hands and knees, baby.” 

You obeyed, wiggling your ass a bit for effect, and whimpered when you felt a palm slap across your right cheek. That was Jake for sure. The drenched crotch of your thong was pushed to the side, then you felt the head of your husband’s cock circle your soaking entrance a few times before it began to breach you, which was a Steven move. 

Your husband set a steady pace and confirmed your guess as to who was fronting when Steven raved, “Oh, I see why they like this position…such a lovely view.” 

“It’s good isn’t it?” Marc chimed in, increasing the pace of his thrusts some. “First time I fucked you we did it like this, remember baby?” 

“Ye-uh…uh-huh,” you could barely formulate words at this point. The idea of your husbands teaming up to fuck you in a slutty little matching lingerie set was melting your brain. 

“She takes it so well,” Jake added. His hand pressed in between your shoulder blades and you yielded so that your face and chest were resting on the bed, ass higher in the air. 

“Ugh that’s it,” Marc groaned, landing another slap across your rear. 

“Doing so well for us, love,” he praised. It was Steven obviously. “You alright?” 

You stuttered out a “yes” and began pushing your hips back against his groin as much as you could to drive your point home. 

When Jake said “Hmmm, si nena, let us feel that little cunt clench around our cock,” you couldn’t resist anymore, you had to touch yourself. 

Jake spotted it right away and spanked you again, “Did I say you could play yourself?”

“Por favor Papi,” you begged. You were beyond dignity at this point, all you could think about was coming. “I need it.”

“Let her Jake,” Steven argued, rubbing the imprint his alter’s hand left to soothe your skin, “she got all dressed up for us.” 

“Plus it’s hot as fuck to watch her work her little bud,” Marc pointed out. 

“Bien, bien,” Jake let it go. 

“Who do you want to make you come?” Steven asked, his hips never faltering as he continued to impale you with the fat member you craved.  

“I…um…uh…”

“Aw look Steven, we made her all cockdumb,” Marc cooed at you. 

Your current position prevented you from sending a dirty look at your husband. He wasn’t exactly wrong though.  

“I got her,” Jake volunteered. A moment later, a wet thumb circled your asshole and edged ever so slightly in. The extra stimulation, combined with your fingers frantically rubbing your clit, caused you to come with a high whine. You bore down on your husband’s big dick as the pleasure wracked you, so profound it was almost painful. 

Your husband held your hips steady as you drifted down from your orgasm and he sought his own release. You reflexively tightened around his spent cock when you felt the ribbons of his seed empty inside of you. 

You rolled over, lying on the bed sideways to look at them. Marc gazed back at you, examining your face with concern to make sure they hadn’t gone too hard on you, you presumed. Speech hadn’t returned to you just yet, so you sent him a toothy, satisfied smile instead. 

“You okay baby?” He asked. You nodded, allowing him to slide off your panties. 

Steven cut in quickly to follow up, “You need anything for your bum?” 

“I think I’m okay, hun, but thank you,” you assured him. He turned you around to take off your bustier for you as well. 

“‘Course,” he replied instantly, slowly standing to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and wipe his cum off of you. “They got a little carried away at the end there.” 

“Did not” you heard Jake snipe back.  

They reappeared with Marc’s stern expression on their features. “You sure you’re okay? Obviously we loved it, but….“

Jake butted in to finish his question, “Did you like it, nena?” 

“Yes,” your tone didn’t leave any room for doubt. Now a little more recovered from your orgasm, you could string together a sentence. “I loved it, it was just intense, and it was our first time being intimate like that.”

“We’re a bit full on, aren’t we?” Steven asked with wry self-deprecation, tossing the used flannel off to the side of the room and getting under the covers. 

“I love it,” you said once again, settling into his arms, “I married you after all.”

“Good,” Steven murmured. “You didn’t happen to bring more lingerie like that, did you?” 

***

Though the benefits to having a private pool were many…mainly that you and your husband could have pool sex whenever the mood struck, you did make it to the beach. It’d be a sin not to, and the image of Marc emerging form the ocean was one you’d lock in your mind until you died. 

He was dripping wet head to toe, dark hair slicked back with water, his trunks clinging to those muscular thighs that drove you wild, and his golden skin had darkened a shade from the sun. Though you knew your husband had once been entangled with an Egyptian deity, you couldn’t help but think that Marc would be quite at home in the Greek pantheon too, with a body and face like that. 

“Hey! You gotta get in,” he ran a hand through his hair, “It’s like bathwater.” 

“I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out. 

Marc shot you a wide, unguarded grin. “I already married you, you don’t need to keep flattering me anymore.”

“Shut up,” you tossed at him fondly. 

Marc lowered his still dripping body on top of you. You tried to wiggle away from him but Marc locked you in his grasp and attacked you with kisses all over your face, “I think that I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman with a more generous heart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Marc,” your voice was thick with tears. It was one thing for Marc to be so playful with you, then add in such loving sentiments expressed to you so openly? You couldn’t help but get verklempt. Your husband had come such a long way - partly thanks to the work he did on his own, with his therapist, and of course you two refusing to give up on each other. 

“Baby, don’t cry!” He cajoled. 

“I’m not, I’m sweaty,” you joked. 

“Okay, then I was sweating at the temple,” Marc bantered back, referring to your wedding ceremony. “Will you please come swim with me? The most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” 

You shoved playfully Marc and got up to head to the water, “I give you one compliment…” 

***

Kate, one of your friends from work, had gifted you a couples massage at the resort for your wedding present. You weren’t sure how the boys decided which one would front for it, but when it was time to leave for the appointment, Jake was the one accompanying you. 

It was heavenly to have all of the wedding and travel stress massaged from your muscles, and no one was more deserving of rest & relaxation than your husband. Their body worked three jobs, plus there had been much strategizing and occasional hair-pulling for Marc and Jake about leaving things with their respective jobs in a place so that they wouldn’t come back from Greece to dumpster fires. Steven was mercifully on summer holiday, so his job was slow anyway. 

The pair of you left your joint session as pliable noodle-people. Jake took your hand as you ambled back to your suite. 

“I’m going to give Kate the biggest thank you,” you vowed. 

He seconded you with a content hum and opened the door to your room. 

“I’m going to take a shower, get all of this oil off of me,” you announced, padding into the bathroom, “honey, what did you do with my shampoo?” 

You routed around in his toiletries bag, thinking you’d found it, but what you produced was definitely not your stolen shampoo. 

Jake had followed you in and when he saw that you were holding the bottle of lube he brought, it was one of the very few times you’d ever seen him blush. You had no trouble getting wet, and you hadn’t brought any toys on vacation either, so what had he brought lube for…oh. 

All he’d wanted for the past few “special occasions” you two had shared (Hannukah, your anniversary, Daylights Savings Time) was anal sex. You weren’t opposed to the idea, but had required a gradual approach to it. To his credit, Jake had been wonderfully patient, and you’d become comfortable with a few of his thick fingers in your ass. 

Jake immediately began to backtrack, “I only brought it in case you wanted to—“

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I mean I’m open to it, when in Greece on your honeymoon, right? 

Jake looked at you with barely contained eagerness. “Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo?”

He knew that if he wanted a piece of your ass, he had to ask in advance. You were a lady and you had a certain mystique you had to maintain, not to mention preparation you needed to undergo. But, given that you were already pretty relaxed and going to shower anyway, now seemed as good a time as any. 

“No time like the present,” you suggested. 

“Wait, really?!” Jake reacted similarly to a little boy who’d been given his first bike. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at his response. “Yeah, I’m all loosened up after the massage and I’ll make this shower a thorough one. So while I do, vamos and make things extra romantic in the bedroom.” 

“Si Señora Lockley,” he basically road-runnered out of the bathroom. 

Jake took your task to heart – when you entered the bedroom, hair damp, lube in hand, towel wrapped around you — candles had been lit, music was playing softly, and he had even managed to get a bottle of champagne up to the room while you’d washed up. 

“Not bad Lockley,” you said after surveying the room. You tossed him the lube. “Not bad at all.”

He shot you a grin that was akin to a wolf who just caught sight of a rabbit. Jake gestured to the champagne, “Shall we? Loosen you up un poquito mas?” 

“Por favor,” you assented. You weren’t sure exactly what made the popping of a champagne bottle so sexual, but a little thrill zinged through you when your husband ejected the cork from its glass neck. 

“Cheers,” you thanked him when he handed you a flute, raising it to toast, “To…new beginnings.” 

Jake mimicked your movement, “A tí, mi amor.”

Your glasses clinked and the fizzy alcohol rushed down your throat. Jake's eyes never left your face. He watched you closely, anticipating the moment when he could finally touch you. 

You decided sooner was likely better than later, best get the show on the road before you could psych yourself out. Placing your flute down, you crossed to him, “Come here Papi.”

Jake flashed you another predatory grin and followed suit at once. “We don’t need this anymore.” His fingers tucked between the towel covering your skin and pulled it loose so the cloth fell around your feet. 

Jake was more intoxicated by the sight of your naked body than any amount of champagne in his system. He wrapped you into a kiss, plundering your mouth, his lips seeking to consume you. His hands, meanwhile, immediately dropped to your rear. 

Hoisting you up with a squeeze, he carried you over to the bed, depositing you on the mattress much more gently than a few nights ago. His mouth never left yours while he worked you to an orgasm on his fingers. 

Then, and only then, did Jake request you turn over, wedge a pillow under your hips, and leave a line of kisses down the length of your spine. 

You couldn’t help but squirm a little when he pulled your cheeks apart. You’d never felt more exposed in your life, but your husband was quick to quell any of your concerns when he asked in an awed whisper, “Nena, can I kiss you here?” 

“Mmm…oh-okay,” you consented and jerked again when you felt his hot breath on your most vulnerable spot, followed by a brush of his lips. 

Next came the snick of the cap of the bottle being opened, and moments later, Jake massaged lube around your wrinkled skin to coat it thoroughly. He may have been excited, but your husband knew he had to be gentle with you. 

Though Jake had gotten you accustomed to much more, you could never stifle the little “ah” you made when the pad of his finger breached your rim. He coaxed more of his digit inside of you, taking ample time to allow you to adjust. 

Jake checked in with you. “How does that feel?” 

“It’s okay,” you told him, “you can move.” 

He proceeded like that, constantly touching base with you as he fed two more fingers into your tight pucker. Your husband’s preparation was a steady stream of “are you okay nena?”, “you feel good? Papi wants you to feel good,” and other praise. 

So thorough was Jake in opening you up that he’d lost his erection by the time you’d given him the go-ahead to enter you. He wasn’t exactly miffed by this development, because he knew precisely how he wanted to get it back. 

Even more lube was drizzled onto your bum, then Jake slicked up his cock to wedge it between your plush cheeks and began to grind himself between them. There was no way to muffle the rumble in his chest at the feel of your ass smothering his cock, the lube providing the necessary slip, and he was damn near entranced by his cockhead reappearing each time from the cleft of your ass. 

You helped him, working your hips back to meet his while he humped you. It felt amazing, and your asshole clenched at the thought that he’d be inside you soon. Fucking your ass cheeks got Jake back to full mast in no time. You were beginning to lose yourself in the rhythmic sliding of your bodies when you husband draped himself over your back to ask in a murmur, “Can I put it in, nena?” 

“Uh huh,” you confirmed, “just go slow please.” 

“Claro que si,” Jake assured you, placing a kiss behind your ear before he straightened up. 

He applied even more lube to your now winking asshole and his dick before he notched the tip at your entrance. “Estas lista?” 

“Yes honey, please,” his cockhead at your pucker felt like a promise you were now desperate for him to make good on. 

Jake’s tip popped past the ring of muscle and you nearly bit down on the linens below you. It was intense, though not altogether painful like you’d feared. You focused on keeping your breathing even as your husband continued to sink inside of you, becoming lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling of fullness in your ass and the deep pulls of oxygen you were pumping into your lungs. 

“Bien?” Jake asked. The strain in his voice was evident. 

“Yeah,” was the most you could manage. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Like I want more,” you told him truthfully. The feeling of having your husband’s dick up your bum was dizzying, deliciously too much, like a scab you weirdly enjoyed picking. 

You experimentally fluttered your muscles around his length and even though Jake was a loving, patient man, even he could not resist the thrust and groan that the move prompted. “Feel good, Papi? Like everything you’ve wanted?”

Jake began moving his hips slowly, “And more.” 

While the view of the sea outside of your window was stunning, Jake didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight he’d enjoy more than his throbbing cock splitting your ass in half over and over again.  

“You…you feel so big like this,” you gasped. “So huge inside me.” 

“Joder, mami, you can’t just say things like that,” he cautioned you as he continued to plow you. 

“Buh-but I can’t help it,” you confessed, and your mind quickly supplied what to say next to drive him absolutely wild. “Fucking me so deep, Papi.”

“Nnnngnnn,” came Jake’s scintillating reply. By now, most of the burn had faded from your channel and you could focus on the delicious stretch in your rear from his cock.

You honestly couldn’t believe how good it felt. Fingers and fantasies were one thing, plus you were fully prepared to take one for the team, to be a good wife and try it even if you weren't keen on the idea. But now you were the slightest bit ashamed to admit that you kind of loved having a cock in your ass. Or maybe it was the fact it was your husband’s thick erection filling you. 

Jake’s brain did nearly explode when you began meeting his thrusts, rocking back on your knees so he could penetrate you deeper. Your ass was absolutely suffocating his cock with its heat and clench around him, he truly believed he could live inside of you forever if you’d let him. 

The two of you communicated exclusively in gasps in grunts, the slap of skin on skin reverberating throughout the suite while you drowned each other in pleasure. You knew when Jake picked up the rate of his thrusts and began growling that he was close and oh, it was different to have your ass filled with cum rather than your pussy. 

You’d barely recovered from Jake easing his cock out of you when you were flipped onto your back and your husband buried his face between your legs. A high-pitched moan tore out from you when his tongue probed your now slightly gaping asshole to collect his cum. 

Jake didn’t stop there, licking around your cleft and spearing his tongue to circle its tip around your sensitive rim. He only relented when you gently pushed his face away from overstimulation. Between your earlier orgasm and the passion of what you had just shared with Jake, you needed to rest.  

He rose back to be level with your face, whispering “thank you” non-stop as he collected you in his arms. “I guess I have to be extra good from now on.”

“Mmmm?” you sought clarification with a sleepy hum. 

“We need to do that again so I can’t piss you off anymore,” he explained. 

You chuckled. “Exactly right, esposo.” 

He inhaled deeply, taking a deep whiff of your hair to smell the faint citrusy scent of your shampoo before he left the bed. To his credit, Jake was excellent with the post-anal aftercare. He drew you a bath, ordered everything you wanted from (the heinously expensive in his opinion) room service, rubbed some petroleum jelly on your pucker to soothe it. He cuddled you in bed, long after the sun sank beyond the horizon, until you drifted off later that evening. 

***

“Good morning!” the concierge Helena greeted you as you approached her desk. 

“Hi there,” you chirped back. The boys slept in this morning, which gave you the opportunity to sneak down to the lobby and square away the details for today’s day trip that you and Steven planned on taking. “Could I please have a copy of the ferry schedule?”

“Of course, Mrs. Spector,” one week in and you still got a little flutter every time someone called you that, “where are you headed?” 

“Delos,” you told her. 

“A must when visiting Mykonos. We’d be happy to arrange a private tour of the island for you and your husband,” Helena offered, “We have relationships with a few exceptional guides on Delos and–”

“Oh that won’t be necessary,” you tried to turn her down gently. “But thanks for the offer.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s so much history there.” 

“My husband’s a professor of ancient civilizations,” you explained as she passed you the little flyer with the ferry timetable, “he’s been researching Delos since we booked this trip months ago.” 

“Huh, I thought he said he was a consultant,” Helena’s colleague, a male concierge who’d welcomed you, chimed in. 

“He is,” you covered, thinking fast, “He teaches and consults with archaeologists on digs.” 

“You’ll be well set then” Helena concluded with a smile. 

“Yes,” you agreed, “I won’t be surprised if by the end of the day, I’ll be able to lead a tour of the island.” 

Your prediction was more or less correct. Steven’s eyes lit up as Delos came into view from the ferry’s bow. He’d already briefed you on the early history and beginnings of the island on the ride over. Anyone else, it would be pedantic and infuriating, but Steven was so genuinely invested that his urge to share about the island was endearing, his enthusiasm about its lore contagious. 

You two meandered through the breathtaking ruins hand-in-hand. Steven’s unofficial tour of the island was so engaging that you clocked a few American tourists loitering near you, eavesdropping to hear all of your husband’s in-depth knowledge of the different statues and remains of the site. 

Your husband remained blissfully oblivious, and you didn’t mind the audience. You’d gotten your picture at the Terrace of the Lions, and besides, Steven was at his best like this. You thought back to when you first met and started dating him: his hunched posture, general jumpiness, the way he’d hedge and second-guess himself. Those facets of him had already melted away to an extent now that all four of you had settled into a groove that worked for everyone, but when Steven had a chance to talk about the subjects he was passionate about, he was calm, confident, and charismatic. He shone brighter than the blazing Greek sun and it warmed your heart more than words could ever describe to see your darling husband so effortlessly in his element. 

So taken were you by his swagger that you interrupted his latest lecture about Cleopatra or something as you strolled to the Temple of The Delians, walking him back into one of the tall, ancient pillars to kiss him senseless. 

“Blimey,” he sighed when you broke apart, “what was that for?” 

You cocked your head playfully, “Do I need a reason to kiss my smart, sexy husband?” 

“No,” he conceded with a sheepish smile playing across his lips. 

You crowded closer to his body, his spine now pressed against the millennia-old, unyielding marble.

“These broad shoulders, all this golden skin…you look like a Greek god, you know,” you informed him while your hands traveled the cotton-covered expanse of his body. You pressed yourself impossibly closer to his body. 

“Careful,” he warned you,“because soon this column won’t be the only thing as hard as stone.” 

“Oh yeah?” Your tone was a playful challenge as you palmed his hardness through his shorts. 

He groaned, “Babe…”

You withdrew your hand from his crotch. “Wanna feel what you do to me? So we’re even?” 

He nodded feverishly to accept your offer and slipped his hand under the skirt of your sundress to dip his fingers inside of your lacy panties and feel you. 

“So wet,” he observed reverently, playing with your folds and bud, “All this for me?”

“It’s certainly not for the ruins,” you quipped. 

He slipped a finger inside you for your cheekiness, and you instantly tightened around him with a little whimper. 

“Only you could make me want to cut a trip to Delos short,” he mused, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt, wiping your wetness on your panties, so as not to draw any attention. 

“I’ll behave myself,” you promised, smoothing down your skirt. “Delos was your only honeymoon request.” 

Steven’s hand took yours once again. “This and more lingerie fashion shows.” 

You squeezed his hand, “Play your cards right and I'll give you a good one later.” 

***

You’d put on quite the naughty fashion show for Steven when you returned to the suite and between the vigorous fucking your little act had resulted in and a day of sightseeing in the sun, you two passed out cold post-coitus. 

Marc had woken up with you just as the sun disappeared below the horizon and suggested a dip to cool and rinse you off after your earlier lovemaking. You knew what “a dip in the pool” meant when your husband suggested it, but what you hadn’t expected was to be bent over your balcony in the Grecian twilight in the nude while your husband railed you from behind.

“Now this is a beautiful view,” he remarked as he pounded you. “I have the ocean and your ass jiggling without having to turn my head.” 

Words escaped you at the moment. You were bowed over the rail, indescribably full in this position, equal parts thrilled and terrified that people could see your husband using your pussy in the dwindling sun.

Marc pulled your ass cheeks apart to get a better look at his cock as it was sucked in by your cunt. He kept a hand holding you open while the other massaged the wrinkled skin of your pucker, causing you to convulse at the unexpected touch. 

“I get your ass next,” he declared, “It was so hot watching Jake take it…fuck, like a porno just for me and Steven. You were so beautiful.” 

You mewled. As dirty as Marc liked to be, he could never abandon his adoration of you. You belonged to one another, each of you placing your trust, respect, vulnerability in the other’s hands to have absolutely shameless sex like this. 

“Duh-duh-do…do you think anyone can see?” You wondered out loud. 

“Dunno,” Marc replied, still thumbing your asshole. “Probably not but I don’t care if they do, because you’re mine. Right, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you instantly concurred . “All yours daddy.” 

The use of the pet name spurred Marc to spin you around so that your back was up against the crossbeam that made up the railing. He hitched your leg around his thick hips and plunged back into your needy core swiftly. 

“So beautiful,” he repeated again now that you were facing each other. “So goddamn gorgeous.” 

“Such a slut for you Marc,” you rambled, your breath hitching when his hand dropped between you once more, this time to strum at your clit. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “My wife is a slut for me and only me, you’ve got everyone else fooled.” 

“It’s ‘cause you fuck me like this,” you provided, “‘s why I married you, no one else can make me come so hard.” 

Marc redoubled his efforts on your little nub, now fully peeking out from its hood. “That’s right, come for me baby.” 

Who were you to disobey? You had to bite your lip to muffle your mind as the fire of your orgasm licked through every corner of your body. Your hands gripped the wooden railing for dear life as it spread throughout your limbs. 

Marc followed shortly after you, burying his face into your shoulder as he released deep into your heat with a satisfied groan. He brought your lips together once he finished, capturing you in tender liplock, allowing his cock to soften inside you before extracting it. 

“Let’s never go back to London,” you proposed. 

You could feel Marc’s amused smile against your skin. “Deal.” 

Of course you had to, but it was nice to pretend as if you all didn’t have lives to go back to in two and a half days, even if only for a moment. 

***

The next morning, your last full day in Greece, you didn’t want to get out of bed. Your airtight, logical reasoning was if you didn’t wake up the day couldn’t start and pass you by. Plus, you were too comfortable to move. Your back and neck were supported by fluffy pillows, your legs were splayed open and damn, there was the most delightful sensation between them. 

It took embarrassingly long for your sleep and pleasure-addled brain to realize that your husband was feasting at you. You eyes blinked open to find the covers pushed back and his inky curls at the apex of your thighs. You moaned, and when he flicked his tongue in quick succession over your clit, you knew it was Steven. 

“Honey.” 

“Oh you’re awake,” he grinned, his chin wet from your slick when he briefly separated himself from your cunt to greet you. “Brilliant.” 

…And he went right back to eating you out like a starving man. You gasped, your fingers curled into his locks, and you jolted into a sitting position as Steven continued. Already the steady pulse of pleasure beat through you indicating that your climax was near. 

“How long have you been at this, baby?” 

“Dunno,” he murmured against your slit, “a while.” 

“Yeah?” Your voice was barely more than a rasp. “Woke up hungry for some pussy?” 

He moaned and nodded his head with his tongue firmly shoved against your bud and fuck, yep that did it. You came with a keen, your thighs trembling and your fingers clawing at the crisp white sheets.

Steven retreated some while your orgasm wracked your body, then dove right back in. You tried to twist away from him, still so sensitive, but Steven wrapped his muscled arms around your twitching legs to hold you still. 

“Baby,” you attempted to protest. 

“Need it,” he countered, his voice reedy. 

You pet his curls and tried to keep your legs steady as his morning scruff tickled your inner thighs. At least he eased back in to his assault on your cunt, dropping the lightest kisses on the crease where your thighs meet your groin before lapping at you once more.

He was trying to get as much of you wet as he could, it felt like, before he narrowed his target to just licking stripes from your asshole to your clit. Only once he had you dripping to his liking did he return to stick his tongue in your hole, gulping down your taste, moving to your clit shortly thereafter. 

By that point it didn’t take much for you to erupt on his tongue, awarding Steven another orgasm that you could feel from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. 

You were not proud to admit that you kind of zoned out at that point, Steven’s mouth enshrined you in a haze of pleasure so dense that you just kind of floated atop it. Your husband seemed to be having the time of his life down there, so you were more than content to submit his ministrations.

You couldn’t really remember your name anymore but did it matter? Did you actually need to know your name to receive all of this ecstasy? 

He pulled one - wait maybe it was two? - orgasms out of you - solely with his mouth before Steven’s fingers joined in. He performed a variation of your favorite move, sucking on your clit and instead of finger-fucking you, his digits pressed deep inside of your pussy. He stroked your walls,  fingertips searching for that special spot. He found it, then your sweet Steven proceeded  to abuse the ever-loving fuck out of it. 

You could feel the magnitude of the orgasm building rapidly, more rapidly than you were used to, yet nevertheless you canted your hips against Steven’s mouth and fingers as you hurdled toward your peak.  Your release arrived with a distinct feeling of letting go, an uncontrollable sensation, but Steven wouldn’t stop worshiping your pussy, which wrenched a pitiful, strained wail from your mouth as you peaked. 

It was as if you couldn’t stop coming. You'd never experienced anything like this before, and although it felt magnificent, it scared you some too. 

Steven’s voice brought you back. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Your vision returned and you peered down at him to ask, “Did I just squirt?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his face a portrait of sheer wonder. “It was bloody amazing.” 

“Ohmygod” you reeled, words coming out on a rush. “I didn’t know I could do that.” 

A flash of movement caught your eye. Steven gripped his cock which looked painfully hard, the top purpled and leaking. 

“C’mere baby,” you cooed, motioning toward you. “Use my mouth.” You couldn’t do much currently, but you could do this. 

Steven didn’t need to be told twice, awkwardly walking on his knees so he was straddling your chest. You gave his erection a few swipes of your tongue before you looked up at your husband, your eyes beckoning him to fuck your mouth like he needed to after denying himself pleasure for so long. You gripped onto his muscled, pillowy ass cheeks while he feverishly pistoned his dick into the warm suction of your mouth, the loveliest little sounds and cries escaping him. 

Given the events of this morning, it wasn’t long before you were swallowing down Steven’s cum. The size of his load indicated how pent up he’d been, and you struggled to swallow all of his hot seed down in one gulp. Your husband swung his leg over your body and collapsed next to you, the two of you rendered silent after the intense lovemaking you’d just shared. 

“Blimey,” Steven remarked. “You alright, babe? Need anything?” 

You nuzzled into his chest. “I’m hungry.”  

“Yeah, we both worked up quite the appetite, didn’t we?” he chuckled. 

You joined in, amused. “If only we could subsist off each other’s bodily fluids.” 

“We definitely wouldn’t have left the room this week if that had been the case,” he pointed out. “I think the restaurant’s still serving breakfast if we hurry.”

“Can’t we get room service? I can’t move.” You pulled the covers over your head in protest. 

“But it’s so bloody expensive,” he bemoaned. 

You revealed your face to fire back, “Well, you should’ve thought of that before you made me squirt because you’ve rendered my legs useless.” 

Steven’s expression became tinged with concern. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes,” you assuaged him once again, “but four orgasms tends to take it out of you. Plus, baby, it’s our last day here, we should treat ourselves.” 

Your husband relented, reaching for the in-room phone, “Want the bowl you had last time?”

You nodded, just absolutely beaming now that you’d gotten your way, and planted a wet kiss on Steven’s cheek as he placed your breakfast order. 

He pulled you close to him once more after he hung up, and you pondered as he held you, “I can’t believe I’ll be back at work in forty-eight hours. I’ll be meant to be catching up on emails and all I’ll be able to think about is how well you three fucked me.” 

Steven hummed in a mix of agreement and satisfaction. “We certainly made the most of it, didn’t we? It’ll be tough to go back to our usual routine and not shag at least two times a day.”

“How did we even do it?” you giggled. 

“No idea,” he played along, then tilted your chin up to kiss you gingerly, sincerely. “I think it’s safe to say our marriage has gotten off to a cracking start however.” 

You reconnected your lips, kissing him deeper. “Couldn’t agree more, my love.” 

A/N: hopefully this was worth the wait!! thank you again dawnsutopia for requesting and more fills to come soon! 

Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042 @nikitawolfxo

Translations: 

Joder - Fuck 

Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda? - You like? Do you think I look cute? 

No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy - No, you’re cute but now you look so sexy 

Ven aquí - come here 

Por supuesto Papi - of course daddy

Joder si, nena - fuck yeah babe 

Bien, bien - okay, okay 

 Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo? - good, when do you want to do it? 

Vamos - let’s go

Por favor - please 

Señora - Mrs. 

un poquito mas - a little more 

A tí, mi amor - to you, my love 

Claro que si - of course 

Estas lista - are you ready? 

esposo - husband 

[playername-player-of-games]

More of @chrisrin‘s gemcyt au :D part 2 to this!

//

Earth is…different.

It’s been raining for three days, (at least that’s what Etho called it, back when they landed). Three days of rain, no light from this system’s sun. Outside is reflecting how he feels inside, gray and storming and he’s-

He’s never going to see his diamond again.

It’s fine. That’s fine. He doesn’t think about it. He can’t think about it, not when it makes him feel like he’s raining.

He’s thinking about it.

She was beautiful, graceful- let him speak and laughed at his jokes. She complimented his fighting, thanked him when he helped her with even the smallest things- things he shouldn’t have been thanked for, in all honesty, like opening doors, or turning off the lights.

Stars, he’s really never going to see her again.

He curls further into himself. He’d reformed with a hooded cloak this time, the desire to hide manifesting physically as soon as he’d Reformed on the ship. He’d had to Reform twice, the first he did himself, without Etho saying he could. He’d been poofed immediately and whisked back into a drawer for what felt like centuries.

After they made it outside, he was allowed to Reform after the ship took off again. Etho said his hair turned black.

He doesn’t know what Etho’s talking about. He can see it, when he looks up at his fringe. It’s a darker green now.

It doesn’t matter. He’s never going to see his diamond again.

“Pearl?” Etho sing songs, footsteps crunching across the dirt of the kindergarten, “Peaaarl, you in here?”

Pearl stuck himself into one of the many gem-shaped holes in the wall, pressed as far back as he could manage, grateful his cloak is dark enough to blend in with the walls, “Go away, Etho.”

“I brought some friends,” Etho says, his face popping into view as he leans over the opening, setting down an oil lamp to light up the space, “you up for some chitchat?”

Pearl tugs his hood down. “Not really.”

“They’re nice, I promise,” Etho assures him, “they’re some of Impulse’s friends! Impulse was nice, right?”

“I guess.”

Impulse was nice, Etho’s right. Their little tour of Earth’s Gem Base had been brief but informative, with a few landmarks. Impulse’s forge. A warp pad. A crash site. Then Pearl got overwhelmed and ran, warping at random and landing in a kindergarten. Nobody came after him.

Until now.

“Do you wanna come out?” Etho asks.

“Not really.”

Etho laughs, “fair enough,” and disappears.

New footsteps- Pearl catches a flash of green and blue outside.

“I brought an aquamarine and a peridot,” Etho explains, voice louder now that he’s further away from the opening, “Grian and Mumbo. They want to talk to you about stuff.”

“Goodie.”

Etho bids him goodbye, and leaves. Then the aquamarine pushes his way into the hole, with a wide, one-eyed grin. There’s more than enough room for the two of them and all the rain water he’s bringing in here, but Pearl curls further into himself anyway.

“You’re Pink Diamond’s pearl,” remarks the aquamarine.

Pearl bristles, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

The aquamarine waves him off, “specifics don’t matter. All that matters is whether or not you’d like to overthrow the diamonds.”

Pearl freezes.

“Grian!” The peridot- Mumbo- scolds, “you can’t just say that!”

“Well, why not?” Grian turns around, his wings nearly whacking Pearl in the face, “it’s not like he can say no, if he goes back to Homeworld he’ll be shattered.”

They dissolve into bickering. Pearl doesn’t care. He can’t hear them.

Overthrow the diamonds.

It’s treason. Rebellion. He’s suddenly connecting dots he didn’t realize were there- the crash site. A hidden warp pad. So, so many mismatched gems living together in an uncharted, unregulated base. Not being allowed to Reform on the ship.

Oh stars- what has he gotten himself into?

The aquamarine yelps and disappears with a poof- Mumbo catches him, flustered when Pearl rushes past him, sword in hand, back to the warp pad, back to the warp, to warp, warp warp warp warp warp-

A blinding flash of light- he stumbles off the pad and falls to his knees.

Rebellion. Treason.

If he goes back to Homeworld, he’ll be shattered.

He’s being shattered right now, he thinks- that’s the only way he can think to explain this feeling. He’s being crushed, turned inside out, trying to reform in a place that’s too small. He shouldn’t be here- he’s raining- he should have stayed on Homeworld, should have let himself be-

Someone is humming.

He freezes. He’s good at this- disappearing into the background. He’s nothing. An accessory, a set piece.

He lifts his head.

They’re hovering over a lake (he hadn’t realized he’d warped to a lake), twisting in a way that looks like a dance, something bright and cloud-like in their arms. Something about their posture is familiar- friendly. Pearl pushes himself to his feet- his knees trembling, and forces himself forward.

One foot in front of the other. He makes out features- wings made of water. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers and little red things. Too big to be an aquamarine- a lapis? His gem a little to the left of where Pearl’s is, on his chest, right over where a human heart would be.

His humming has turned to singing. Pearl stops on the bank- he knows this lapis. This was one of the messengers, they used to talk all the time.

What is he doing on Earth?

The lapis bends over, dropping petals into the water, and notices Pearl with barely more than a glance.

“Oh, hello! You’re n-” he does a double take, eyes wide, his smile fond and familiar as if he remembers Pearl too, “you’re Pink Diamond’s pearl!”

This is the same lapis. The one he used to tease and trip in the hallways. They’d salute to each other- then to their diamond- then drop form and laugh. They made jokes- they called each other names and playful insults and make faces at each other when the diamonds weren’t looking. This lapis is- is like home, even after he disappeared for a hundred years without explanation- and he’s here right in front of him. Pearl feels like he’s being shattered all over again.

“Was,” he corrects, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

Lapis comes to hover in front of him, holding his bouquet. Pearl does not meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I uhm-” Pearl pulls his hood down over his eyes, “I fused with her.”

“Oh.”

Raindrops drip down his cheeks- he reaches up to wipe them away, turns his head to the sky and wonders how they’re getting on him if his hood is up. The sky is clear. Lapis lands in front of him, wings disappearing, his mouth a worried line.

“Why is it raining on my face?” Pearl whispers.

Lapis smiles, quiet, warm, and gently pulls Pearl’s hood down to rest on his shoulders, “you’re crying.”

Pearl sniffles, “what does that mean?”

“It means your eyes are making rain on your face,” he explains, still gentle. He tucks a little yellow rose over Pearl’s ear.

“How do I make it stop?”

“It’ll stop on its own, eventually.”

Pearl wipes his eyes on his sleeves. He feels exposed without his hood.

“Lapis-“

“Jimmy.”

Pearl makes a face, “what?”

“My name is Jimmy.”

Pearl scoffs, furiously wiping his eyes again, “what is with you Earth gems and your weird names.”

Jimmy laughs, moving to sit next to Pearl and tugging him down with him, “who have you met?”

“Impulse,” Pearl says, “which sounds dumb, and Mumbo, which sounds dumber, and Grian which sounds like grain!”

Jimmy laughs and nods again, “that’s us.”

“Stupid,” Pearl snaps. He needs his eyes to stop raining now.

“Would you like an earth name?” Jimmy asks, and Pearl scoffs at him again.

His first thought is no, he doesn’t want one. But then he remembers treason, and he remembers rebellion, and he remembers that he’ll be shattered if he goes back to Homeworld, and he thinks of making fun of long winded messages from important gems and making faces at each other behind the Diamond’s backs.

Surely naming himself isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Maybe.”

“Go on then,” Jimmy says, nudging him with his shoulder. “There’s lots of things to choose from.”

And there are a lot of things to choose from.

He likes the J from Jimmy’s name- it’s a good sounds- he just doesn’t know what comes after it. He looks around for inspiration. Jake isnt right. Jloud sounds weird, and so does Jeaf.

He takes a rose from Jimmy’s bouquet and twirls it around in his fingers- he can’t name himself Jasper, even though he’s off color he wouldn’t ever name himself after another gem. He can’t call himself Jimmy either, because then he’d be naming himself Pearl all over again and that’d just lead to problems.

He thinks further back- Impulse was showing him something at camp. Barrels of something called oil- the stuff in the lamp. Stuff for cooking. It’s stuff that helps other stuff work like it’s supposed to. He figures that’s a good a thing as any.

“Joil.”

“Joil?” Jimmy dissolves into laughter.

“Wha- hey, it’s not like it’s better than Jimmy!”

“No, no, it’s worse!”

Pearl growls at him, trying to be upset, but the way Jimmy is doubled over, cracking up, makes it hard to keep a smile off his face.

“Oh-kay, it’s bad,” he admits, trying and failing in the not laughing department, “but do you have a better idea, oh great Jim?”

“Maybe,” Jimmy straightens, smiling wide, “‘Joil’s’ a bit awkward to say, is all. Why not try Joel?”

He’s gotta admit that is easier to say.

“That’s fine,” Joel says. “You can call me that.”

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Joel,” Jimmy says, ever smiling, “welcome to Earth.”

[haztory]

[fairytales: fathoms below]

⤷ john price x f!reader; fairytales!au, mermaid!reader, no warnings!

⤷ summary: a series imagining each of the cod men in fantasy/fairytale settings.

(w.c: 3.2k)

captain john price - the little mermaid 

Deep brown oak lays a steady foundation for the billowing ivory cotton. It is a formidable beast, splitting the current with a wicked ferocity that only further emboldens everything your sisters have said in the privacy of hidden corners and muttered breaths. This monster is a fearsome one, its force unparalleled. Something entirely different than what you have seen before.

Mind your distance, your eldest sister had spoken in between the echoing bellows of your father’s rampage as he raged and roared about the increased presence of the fiend in the seas. It is a frightening being. 

Yet, as you peek above the waves to peer at its high fixtures and its grand weight gliding across the water, you’re less inclined to be scared of the vessel and more curious about who could have made such a thing. Your sister’s words and your father’s fear are quickly things of the past, rendered outdated almost instantaneously beneath its shadow.

What could they know about the intent of such a thing with certainty when they themselves have never been as close as this before? If they had, surely they’d feel the same as you do now.

The ship rocks with a force equal to the volume of the men steering it. They are of varying shapes and sizes, loud as they shout at one another along the choppy water. Words you can only catch on whispering winds, syllables and sounds that are completely foreign as you try to repeat them to yourself. A pulse echoes within you, a ferocious beating of your heart that begs you to get closer, to let the curiosity that surges within you seize its grand moment. If only just to see, just to hear. 

It is one thing to see the ancestors of this magnificent watercraft on the seafloor—to play in its cracked beams and chase your sisters through the wreckage, imagining in secret what an image it would be were it fixed and afloat—but it is something entirely different to see the beast alive. 

To see it be tamed, made nothing more than a tool to be beckoned— by him.

He stands commanding on the helm, the gruffness of his voice carrying on the winds, crossing the distances to you. The men follow his calls, responding in time to his orders and moving with preciseness on the vessel, not entirely unlike your father’s guards. They are seasoned, well learned, and they follow him without question. It is truly a sight to behold, but him, he trumps it all. 

His figure is distinguishable even from afar. You’ve been able to make him out even as you trailed a couple hundred kilometers behind, curiosity consuming all reason as you followed the ship past neighboring reefs and exiting well beyond the boundaries of your father’s kingdom. He’s well cut and corded, muscle visible even if the white of his shirt didn’t stick to his skin—wet from the seawater. 

He’s wide in the shoulders, tall and lean, before it tapers down to a narrow waist; His bottom half is obscured by a dark fabric, which must be the object of your father’s frequent cursing. Legs. You’ve never seen them before, much less two of them. 

Still, his… abnormality hardly detracts from the verboten truth—your eye is caught. It hardly deviates from his powerful stance; Your gaze can wander across the bridge of the ship to the working crew, but it ends up inevitably circling back to him. Drawn into the vortex of him, water rushing, pulling and pushing, and the pang of longing that you have long held quiet finds its strength.

It tastes of wonder and the desperation to escape; To leave behind the home that you know, all that has created you, for the realization that there’s more.

You leave behind the ship before you risk the chance of it seeing you, but the appetite of fascination is hardly appeased. It becomes the bad habit. The ships are wondrous things, but you find out rather quickly that when he is at the helm, that is truly when your heart leaps and you trail even closer to its hull, eager for a sight. 

It goes this way for forty rises and sets, your eyes held on the horizon for the familiar sight of the wooden ship’s sigil and its master. 

Today, he is seen on the day of the great storm. 

The sky sits in a violent gray, lightning spreading its branches as they flare across the clouds. The air smells of the impending storm as the seas grow rougher and with it the ship rocks unsteadily—the waves beating against wood, climbing up its ridges higher each time it strikes against its side, as if it were begging to climb aboard. Despite the mayhem, he stays sharp, pointing direction from the helm and eventually leaving it to the charge of someone else when he decides to help directly. Grabbing rope and throwing it around the masts, clapping others on the back, Keep going, boys! shouting from his mouth.

You see it before they do. A crack that widens in the undercarriage of the ship, beaten open as the waves ram against it, water rushing in. You want to shout, tell them to look, but they realize it soon enough. One of the shipmates peers over the edge of the ship before turning back and shouting,

“She’s goin’ to sink, Captain!”

The Captain—finally a name to the face, one that you roll around in your mind as your eyes track his every movement; Captain, captain, captain.— moves quickly, foregoing the lugging of a rope and saying something that forces all men to divert attention elsewhere. It’s a flurry of movement from there, the men gathering supplies, hauling smaller wooden vessels by rope and filling them in a quick frenzy. Abandoning the ship. 

It’s difficult as wind and rain pellet them, obscuring vision and keeping them unsteady as they attempt to save themselves. The first lifeboat hits the sea viciously, the waves almost capsizing the vessel as they meet its surface. You don’t mean to interfere—you know you shouldn’t— but they’re terrified, and risk drowning, and you’re much more worried about them dying than you are yourself, so you swim to them; Grab the bottom of the boat and pull with as much strength as your arms and tail can muster and haul them away from the immediate danger of the turbulent waves split by the sinking ship. 

The pulley breaks when the next boat tries to descend, hitting the surface unceremoniously, but the men make it to the water.  Two wooden boats buoy a safe distance away from the main ship and the crew sits, thankfully, unharmed as they look towards their Captain, beckoning him to jump. He stands at the edge of the great being, a monolith of a man overseeing the wreckage of his great accomplishment. He must be bidding it goodbye, because he then turns, ready to jump, fortified in that decision as he realizes that all of his men are safe and it is now his turn. 

Wind turns threatening and the air ignites with a charge that speaks of impending doom. It is then that lightning strikes the mast, sparking a loud blast. It singes the wooden pillar, immediately exploding it into a shattering of pieces. The detonation’s impact pushes him off the edge, the Captain’s body hurdling over one-hundred feet. 

Your scream is hidden by the shouts of his own men. His body hits the surface of the water, plunging into the depths as the violent waves hurtle him below. 

There is no hesitation, a choice made without conscious thought. You curl beneath the cresting of a wave and immediately sink into the depth in search for him. It is significantly easier to swim beneath the hurtling waves than atop of them, pressure equalizing against your body. You glide within the water, pushing straightforwardly to the spot where his body met water. 

Your heart pounds in fear. Even if you reach him—no, when you reach him— there is no guarantee of his survival. There must be some kind of injury from falling that kind of distance, or so you would imagine. Being sucked into vortexes does all kinds of damage to merfolk, it must be of equal balance for humans. And even if by some miracle he does survive impact, humans cannot breathe under the water like you can. He must have swallowed some water, is that dangerous for him? How much can he swallow? What do you do if he has swallowed too much?

Thoughts hurtle and tumble in fast succession, but your body moves faster. Crossing the distance between your position next to the lifeboats to the spot of impact at a speed that has never before been demanded of you. Your lungs burning, your mind aching, your heart hurting with worry for a man that you do not yet know. A man that, for all you have been told, could kill you. A man whose kind has hunted yours down for sport, strung your people up for decoration. 

You should not care for this man, have been warned not to, and yet the relief you feel when you find him are the blessings from the forces of the heavens and earth. 

He’s sinking, unconsciously. His eyes closed, body suspended to the whims of the tides as they pull him down. Nearing him reveals that he is much larger than you had anticipated but it means nothing in the rapid pump of adrenaline. Hooking your arms underneath his, his back to your chest, you haul with great might. Lugging his weight with a grunt to the surface, just to get him to breathe again. 

Breaching the surface exposes you to the pellets of the ferocious rain, but it matters not. Your eyes set for direction, your head turning frantically in search of a marker, a sight, something to reveal where you are— where you can take him for safety. The lifeboats have been taken far away by the tumbling tides and the ship that was once so marvelous now roars with a fire aboard its surface. 

You have no idea where to go. You have no idea what to do. 

But the Captain is held tightly in your arms, his head rolling lifelessly on your shoulder. A quick placement of your fingers on his neck reveals a pulsing heart and while it hardly solves any of your problems, it’s all you need to do as you have always done and swim. Somewhere, anywhere. 

So, you do. 

South, in search of sanctuary.

It comes faster than you had thought it would. The shallowing of waters after an hour long haul of both he and you bleeds a hope in your soul that pushed you forward until it came into sight. A cove. Away from the large strip of land that surrounds it, remote enough to deposit him without being seen, but close enough to civilization for him to find a way home. Wherever home may be for him.

Your body is exhausted, the muscles in your tail cramping and spasming from the sheer burden of his weight on yours but you don’t stop. Even as you can touch sand with your hands, even as the movement of waves can carry you the distance to the shore— you don’t stop until he is safe. On land. 

Hauling him out of the water and onto the flattening surface of the beach is surely the worst part. Dragging him a safe distance from the water that was able to ease the pressure of his full weight on you to now being on the surface where his body seems to weigh even more, your arms trembling from trying to pull him further up on the coast, is misery. But you do it, with some herculean effort that has never been introduced to you before. 

He lays on land, supine on his back, finally safe. The rain has stopped, the sky turning from the harsh gray of before to a smattering of thickened clouds that finally allow the sun to bleed through. 

You fall beside him in exhaustion. Ragged breaths heaving your chest, your tail grateful for the much needed rest. The swim home will be significantly easier (and faster) without the man in your arms, but such a trek is daunting when physical debility renders you useless. 

But you must go, before he sees you. You have done what you needed to, you have brought him to land, and while you don’t know how to save him, or if you need to, you know his heart still beats. And that is enough to make a job well done. Rather, it should be enough to grant you dismissal.

And yet, you linger. Unable to part, waiting. Watching. You shouldn’t, and still you cannot help yourself. 

You sit up and lean over him, curious to spare him another look. 

Laid beneath you, the truth repeats like a broken mantra in your head. It is a sin of the highest offense to touch him. Being near him like this is a crime itself. But, there is an ache in your fingers that urges you forward and the desire to know eats away at you, until you blink and suddenly, your fingers are tracing the length of his strong nose.

A straight bridge, freckled with color. Your fingers move in a fixed trance, trailing across the soft of his cheek until it reaches the jagged meeting line where skin becomes obscured with hair. You feel the coarseness of his beard, trace the pads of your fingertips down the thick and long hairs. The men at home have hair on their faces, your own father does, but it doesn’t feel like this. So coarse, so rough, prickling against the tips of your fingers. Not made silk by the submergence in water, but thick and apparent. 

You don’t dislike it. At least, you don’t think you do, your fingers smoothing down the expanse of his cheek. Up and down, over and over. Feeling the vitality of this human life.  

You don’t feel the same repulsion that your father does whenever mention of the humans is made near him, nor do you feel the same fear that your sisters have at the mere thought of them. You’re drawn closer, if anything. Curious to know more. 

Wondering what would happen if he opened his eyes.

He has a nose, two ears, and a gentle prodding of his lips reveals a full set of teeth. They’re not sharpened in fangs ready to rip your throat (a rumor circulating through the schools of children) nor are they laid in multiple jagged rows (a preach hailed truth by your father). Instead, just a set of hard bones, the same as yours. He has two eyes that you don’t dare try and see the color of, and a full head of thick brown hair.

For all intents and purposes, he looks like you. The same features, the same design.

Your fingers trail downward, below the thick of his beard and down the column of his strong neck. His shirt is soaked and stuck to his skin, stretched to reveal even more tufts of thick hair on his chest. That is new to you. The men at home don’t have hair on their chest much less a kind so thick. They’re smooth, and if you thread your fingers through it in wonder, it will be a secret you take back to the sea with you.

Maybe the gods made you more similar than different. From where you sit beside him, the only obvious difference lies below. Two long limbs that hold flat appendages at the end. Feet, separated with what you can only imagine are toes. Ten of them on each one. 

Maybe in his creation there was an image of you. A curiosity that was sated by the division of a tail into legs, but otherwise remains the same. Two beings sent to their respective homes and yet destined to intertwine. It must be, otherwise these unexplainable feelings that brew within you have no source other than sheer madness. 

A kind of madness that finds you sitting beside him, staring in lingering awe at the marvels of danger.

You don’t know how long you stay there for, trailing your fingers over him. Finding them studying the feel of his skin and somehow always returning back to his neck, feeling the pulsing of his heart as reassurance. But, a long look to the horizon reveals that the sun is beginning to set and you know then that much time has passed. The sky turns to a burnt orange and the warning to return home beats within your mind. It is unwanted, but you know that you can no longer stay here with the man. Soon your father will suspect something amiss and send guards to find you. While you don’t doubt the capabilities of the human, there’s no guarantee he will be able to defend himself against the royal guards of the palace, especially in his weakened state. (There is no telling what he could do to you if he awakens in this state.)  

So you will leave him with the hope that he will wake soon, that he will recuperate enough to pull himself from the sand and walk the short distance back to the mainland. That your efforts were timely and he is able to make his way home. 

You will leave him and hope that maybe, he will come back to the cove in search of you. You will leave him and hope that maybe he will see you waiting for him in the water.

With a sigh, you turn your head back to his face. To look at him once more before you go.

Eyes as blue as the sea you pulled him from, meet yours. You gasp, jolting backwards in shock and he—the Captain, alive and awake— blinks slowly.

“You’re real.” He croaks, his voice hoarse. It still holds the same gruffness that you heard on the ship, the commandeering tone and hefty weight, but in the closeness it is twinged with gentleness. No longer addressing men at his command, but you. A softness mirrored in tone and gaze as he, for the first time, sees you. 

His hand reaches up and you hold still in fear. The conditioning of your father’s paranoia rears its head; Is this where his strength is exhibited? In the calloused palm of his that is larger

than your own? Is this where he decides to lay waste to you in a manner your father is so convinced that humans possess? 

Instead, his hand raises to your face, fingertips slowly brushing a fallen strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. His touch is light on your skin, brushing against the curve of your ear before trailing downward and across your cheek. Warm and soft, he stares a seriousness into you as though the only thing he intends to do in that moment is commit you to memory. 

You fall into his touch with little convincing. His skin melding to your own, as though it were meant to be there. 

“I thought you a dream.” 

You shake your head slightly. His eyes dart across your face before moving downward. Surveying you before spotting the obvious truth.

“Mermaid.” He chokes out, in reverence. His stare does not falter and his face does not scrunch upward in disgust. He looks at you much like you have always looked at him. 

Adoration disguised in the innocence of curiosity. 

“You saved me,” He says. “Thank you.”

a.n: i blame my visit to disney world for this idea. the thoughts of john price soaking wet is irresistible, and i aint sorry for it!!

simon is next :)

[skulla-rxcks]

Werewolf in heat 👣🐺

Paring: werewolf!Chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut, werewolf au

Warnings: slight blood, pain

Day 22 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

It’s a warm night in spring, perfect weather to take a stroll outside and get some fresh air. I sigh and grab my coat, putting it over my shoulders before sticking my arms in the holes. There’s a bag next to the door already so I decide to take that with me. I slide my feet into some boots that were next to the bag. As soon as I’m read i decide to have one last check at my coat and bag, making sure I have everything I need to take with me just incase. “Fucking hell..” I mumble frustrated under my breath, realising that I forgot to pack my phone. I leave my bag at the door as i quickly run back to my room, bolting inside and frantically looking for my phone, i find it next to my bed on the little wooden table next to it. Relieved from finally finding my phone i make my way out of my room and back to the corridor .

I open the door and let out a groan, relaxed as I feel the cold air hit my face, it cools me down instantly.

Taking a step outside and shutting the door behind me I begin my little midnight adventure off into the forest. It’s really dark tonight. i can see a few stars up in the sky, not many though, only around 6 or so. I keep walking on the path until I reach the beginning of the sea of trees. I look behind me as I continue walking, slowly watching the street light get smaller and smaller as I walk into the abyss that is the forest. The sound of crickets chirping fill my ears. I grab my phone out of my bag and put it’s torch on so I can see where I’m going and what’s nearby. I’ve walked here in the dark before, only once though so I’m still not perfect around the area I’m in, still. I’m not a complete stranger to it.

I Lift my phone up slightly, noticing there’s a lake futher in the forest, I decide to make my way there, hoping to watch the moon line shine on the water. I continue deeper down the path until I reach the shimmering water, sparkling from the beautiful moon above it. I gasp at the site, sitting down on a nearby log as I watch and listen to the beautiful sounds of nature. As I’m watching the water I see something on the other side of the lake, staring at me. I’m not sure what it is but it’s shaped like a wolf. I wonder what it wants from me?

Either way, It feels like the temperature is getting warmer over here, might as well take a little dip in the fresh water in lake, I slide my boots off and dip my feet in, feeling the cool water on my skin. My eyes look at the spot where the wolf was out of pure curiosity. There’s something there, in the exact same place the wolf was, but this time it’s not a wolf, it’s a guy. Maybe he’s just wondering what I’m doing at this time of night? I decide to ignore it. It’s getting later I should probably be on my way and heading back home right now, I tell myself.

I step out of the water and dry my feet on the grass before proceeding to put my shoes back on. I grab my bag and phone and start heading off, I’m so damn ready to pass out on my bed and just get a good nights sleep.

As I start walking on the path I see a shadow in the corner of my eye, I stop and look around, noticing nothings there. I try to ignore it and keep walking but the sound of movement only starts again, following me. “H-hello?” I call out feeling the fear developing Inside me. “Is anyone there?” I repeat. No answer, not even a single noise after I call out. “Hey.. T-this isn’t f-funny..!” I mumble as I feel the hairs on my body begin to stand up as well as goosebumps beginning to form on my skin.

I begin to walk again but this time I feel something or someone touch me, something touched my shoulder, almost like it was trying to scare me before but instead this time it is trying to get my attention. I turn around and look up, it’s the same man that was staring at me from across the lake, but this time he has wolf ears and tail for some reason. “Uhm..” I whimper, confused at whatever the fucks going on and who this strange being is.

“Shh.. you saw it didn’t you? You saw my other form..” the man mutters, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind a tree. “I.. uh, yes.. yes I did..” I plea at his words, clearly begging for mercy. “Mouth shut.” He demands, snapping his fingers. “I won’t hurt you unless you help me out here, yeah?” A smirk begins to form on his face making his ears twitch too. “W-what do you need sir?” A whimper comes out of my mouth as I see how he’s acting, I don’t know what he wants to do to me, but I’ll agree to anything just so he doesn’t kill me and feast on my flesh off of my rotting corpse.

“I’m in heat.” The guy says. “W-what?” I respond, cleary flustered at the situation that’s been brought upon me. “I said I’m in heat.” He repeats. “So.. w-what do you.. uh, want me to do a-about it?” My cheeks turn red. “I need you to let me fuck you.” He growls, grabbing my shirt and pushing me against the tree. “May I?” He asks, licking his lips while looking down at my clothed body. “Y-yes sir..” I mutter out, looking at his face as he begins to rip my clothes open with his sharp claws. “Call me Chan.” He looks back up into my eyes, glaring at me as he pulls my panties and shorts down. “Fuck you look tight.. it’s gonna hurt.” Chan lets down his boxers, pulling his cock out groaning as he pushes into my tight and wet cunt.

“C-chan…” I whimper and wrap my legs around his waist, my feet stroking hid tail as he begins to pump in and out of my hole. “Shit your cunt feels so fucking good, bunny...” he growls into my ear, biting onto my neck. He brings one of his hands up to my chest and squeezes my breast, digging his claws into it making me moan in pain as small beads of blood pop out of my skin.

“Ahhha…. Channie!” More moans come out of my mouth as Chan starts Fucking me more roughy now, sinking his teeth into my neck as he does so. “Mmgh.. o-ow..” I cry out, my legs tightening around his waist as I buck my hips forward slightly, trying to get more of his dick. “even your blood is so good..” Chan groans, his teeth hitting the top of a vein in my neck due to how deep he’s sucking my blood. “Chan.. s-Slow down I’ll.. I’m gonna… I’ll cum!!” I beg him and let him know I’m near my limit. “Do it. Cum for me.” He demands, filling me up with his cum as I squirt around his cock. Chan pulls out of me and gently places me on the grass next to the tree he was pounding me up against.

“Fuck.. thank you so much, bunny. You didn’t know how god damn badly I needed that.” He lets out a massive sigh, slipping his boxers back on before heading off and going back into the bushes.

I guess I’ll have to walk home with just panties on now while a werewolf’s cum is dripping out of me.

[trulybetty]

05 x mirror - joel miller x reader (au)

prompt: mirror pairing: joel miller x reader word count: 656 notes: fluff, no outbreak, no y/n, no reader description, stormy weather mentions and cheesy motels summary: bad weather causes a change in plans and a delayed trip home

x. masterlist

“Oh, come on Joel, it's just one night,” you told him as you lugged your luggage over the threshold, saved only by Joel's damp forearm snapping out to catch the door before it could swing back at you and possibly knocking you over. “The weather is too bad to be on the road. You said it yourself.”

Joel grumbled at his own words being used against him. Carrying the rest of your belongings in he stood in the doorway taking in the interior of the motel room that was home for the both of you for the night. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked as he dropped the bags to the floor.

You laughed as you dropped yourself onto the edge of the ruffle-edged bed with hot pink sheets. 

“What did you expect Miller? The place is called 'Cupid's Inn', and our room options were Wedding Night, Honeymooners or Vow Renewal.”

“I just thought it was a joke,” Joel muttered, his eyes scanning the room. “I didn't realize it would actually be themed like this.”

The room was a visual assault of kitsch and romance. A large mural of cherubs at the headboard, pink wallpapered walls, heavy velvet curtains that framed the window. Then heart-shaped decorations with lace frills and silk rose petals scattered across the floor leading up to the room's main feature, a bright red heart-shaped jacuzzi with a built-in water feature.

“Well, it looks like we're in for an interesting night,” you teased, waving a hand toward the jacuzzi in the corner of the room.

Joel shot you a glare, his irritation was evident. “I'm not getting in there,” he said firmly, “I think I'd rather risk the storm sleeping in the car than this.”

You couldn't help but laugh at Joel's reaction, you found it all amusing in spite of Joel's less-than-impressed state. “Oh, come on,” you said with a mischievous smile, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “It's just for one night. We'll survive it,” you reassured him.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he was clearly exhausted from the long drive. The weather had derailed your travel plans, flights cancelled so a rental car was your mode of transport back home to Austin. 

“Anyway,” you said, shuffling over to make room for him on the bed beside you, “we couldn't have picked a more romantic location for Valentine's Day?”

Joel rolled his eyes but reluctantly sat down beside you. “Fine,” he sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

You leant back and looked up to the ceiling and let out a shriek of laughter, “Oh my god,” 

Joel’s eyes followed yours, and when he saw the mirror mounted above the bed, he let out a groan. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“It could be fun,” you said playfully, a cheeky grin spreading across your face as you caught his reflection in the mirror.

Joel just shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement in his eyes. “Only you could find the one kitsch motel in Texas.”

“Admit it, you're a little bit curious.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into a reluctant smile. “You're impossible,” he said, but there was no annoyance in his voice, only affection.

“It could be fun,” you flirted, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “You never know.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, a playful challenge in his eyes. “Fun, huh?”

Before you could respond, Joel quickly moved, his hands gently but firmly grabbing your shoulders, flipping you over so that you were now lying on your back on the bed, with him hovering above you. His face was inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own.

Then, with a tenderness that contrasted with the room's gaudiness, he kissed you. 

As Joel pulled back, he conceded, “I guess we can make the best of it.”

You smiled up at him, “That's the spirit.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 13

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You finally manage to get yourself across the room. You're not going to make it to work. You know that. You know your body can't handle it. But you're getting to the bottom of this.

You lean heavy on the wall and angle open the door. You nearly stumble through and nearly take down the console table against the wall. Holy fuck, it can't actually be possible that he did this to you. Just with sex?

You steady your legs and sigh. You don't even know which way to go. This oversized house is a maze to you.

You are not okay. You need to sit down. You slide onto your ass and collapse against the edge of the door. Well, this is how far you got and you're not getting any further.

"Miss?" A voice frightens you as a door clicks. Oh fuck, does he have a wife? WTF?! "Are you alright?"

"Um, hi," you turn to her, "I um, I'm…" you introduce yourself, "um, Lloyd…"

"He's asleep, I believe. He mentioned he had company," she smiles, "can I help you up?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks," you reach up and she grabs your hand, "I pulled a muscle, I think."

"Of course, miss," she takes you back to your room and helps you sit on the side of the bed, "can I get you coffee? Or something to eat?"

"No, I'm okay," you avoid her gaze as you search the wall instead, guilt gnawing at your insides.

"I'm Chrissy, the maid, I come twice a week for Mr. Hansen," she supplies, "and you're his guests so if you need anything, I'm here till noon."

"Wonderful, thanks," you shrink out of embarrassment, "that's great. Um, I don't need anything," you shimmy across the bed and groan, "think I just need to lay down."

"Of course, miss," she backs out and gently closes the door. You appreciate her discretion even if it reminds you of your shame.

You fall back and sigh. You can't just lay here and do nothing but you physically can't do much else. You wriggle and drag yourself up the mattress and reach for your phone again. You have to get to the bottom of this.

You hit the last call and let it dial. Sandy answers the phone with her typical flat answer. You hesitate and she says hello again, huffing into the speaker. You clear your throat and tell her who it is. She cuts you off.

"Johnny left a message. Part-timer's already coming in to cover," she chirps, "see ya tomorrow."

"Oh, okay--"

She hangs up. You drop your phone. She can be a bit curt, she mostly does the check-ins, she doesn't really cover lunch or play time.

Johnny? You know that's not possible. Lloyd. He must've called. You have all the evidence you need. But why? He's not really the courteous type.

You don't have the energy to wonder. You just want to sleep. Maybe when you wake up, this will all just turn out to be a weird, freaky dream.

👄

You wake up to a thunk. You roll over and rub your eyes as you stare at the silhouette by the door. You take in your surroundings slowly; this isn't your apartment. It's all just the same as it was.

Lloyd keeps a hand on the handle of the basket as he stands proudly in the doorway. He has a hand on his hip, shameless in nothing more than a pair of briefs.

"Huh?" Is all you can muster.

"Special delivery, you forgot your funzies," he winks, "pity we didn't get to test em out last night."

He slips his hand off the handle and grabs a large jelly dildo in a particularly bright shade of pink, "but I think..." he lows it in front of his crotch, "I did the job just fine."

He thrusts his hips as he compares himself to the toy. You grumble and sit up, arms shaky and body stiff and tangled. You grip one side of your head and grimace.

"What... what time is it?"

"I'd say it's time for round two," he chortles, "but you look in rough shape... so I'll give you ten minutes to get your shit together. Go rinse your face, splash some water on the cooch-"

"Please, just... give me a minute to think."

"Babe, I said ten."

Your lips part. Babe. The word reminds you of Johnny, for just an instant. You traded a solid relationship for this. To be just as good as a piece of silicon in that basket.

No. There wasn't a relationship. He hit you. You couldn't go back. The tenderness in your cheek confirms that.

"You called my work?"

"Someone had to be responsible. Fuck you for making me be the one," he scoffs as he tosses the toy back in the basket.

"I'm sorry..." your voice trails off. You don't know why you're apologising.

You shove yourself to the edge of the bed and brace yourself. You can't let yourself stumble in front of him. You take a breath and swing yourself up. For a second, you stand up steady and straight, but your first steps sees you tumbling to your knees.

He snickers and comes close as you hold yourself up on trembling arms. You refuse to look up at him, embarrassed. You try to stand but can barely make your legs move.

"Still got it," he taunts as he looms over, "you know what, better idea, we'll take a nice hot bath to soothe your achy muscles, sweet cheeks," he bends and pushes you onto your ass before scooping you up, "let daddy do all the work… you'll get your turn."

You don't fight him. You couldn't couldn't if you tried. You're too drained; mentally, emotionally, physically. Besides, the hot water sounds like a fair trade as your flesh screams for it.

[rizsu]

to you, my woman al haitham + kaveh.

sum. royalty au, not with genshin lore, and a COMPLETE brainfart omg i just needed to get this out

i. first impressions always count | 3.4k words

the lies and the truths: two terms that bind together to make balance. the reflection of the water in the basin mimics you. the wavering ripples and droplets that yelp each time your hand moves in it. a cold morning is what it is. eyebags that couldn't have been more protruding, a frown that holds every unspoken emotion, eyes that rid themselves of numbness — a sickening morning. you're alone, thankfully. amidst the sun's warming beams holds a dull you.

the day you've loathed has come. at the last supper, where a few envoys from the land of the righteous, sumeru, had arrived on the queen's note to deliver her qwords. it was but a slight favour on your side; hidden in her handwritten letter, she offered a deal: marry your daughter to my son. such can benefit both, if you permit. the answer lay in your palms — choose wisely, king.

her offer — or rather, her threat—held her attitude throughout. compared to your father, she's someone to worship. like a fool to a tyrant, your father had no choice. each day by the hour, does your blood seethe with hatred. annoyance for your family, hatred for your greed-ridden father, revulsion for everything that dawns in this damned kingdom. 

from the second you were born, they've placed their wants on you. praising you, forcing you, making you their pure goddess. within enevis's dome was the saying "she who borns shall become she who reigns." it's derived directly from the gods that once served these grounds day and night. sitting boldly at the temple's front, the transcript reads words that were shed from the mighty himself to the new goddess. ever since that moment, to her people who live, each time a woman has been blessed into the royalty, she shall be called 'the goddess' descent.' 

just pure tomfoolery. what is a deity to a man? a nobel to a peasant? a dream to a non-believer? you've been dragged on as a saintess all your life. controlled like a puppet by its master. a sing-song tale of marionette to her box; she's stuck in a neverending loop, unable to grasp free no matter the attempts. almost like you, who once tried marriage to set yourself free. at the very least, you loved him.

he wasn't anyone special — an average man, is what he was. compared to your status as enevis's sole princess, he was a pedestrian, at least. a farmer on the outskirts of town, producing homegrown crops for the capital's people (not that he earned much anyway). the first time you laid your eyes on him was when you snuck out through the window. it was idiotic, truly, but alas, it gave you a sense of peace. you had to pay off the guards that stood at their posts. one could only pray that your gold was enough for them.

nights of sneaking out turned into marriage. a marriage that wasn't approved of, no matter the pleas. nevertheless, you were a grown woman. you made your choice, even if it angered your mother.

parallel to euphoria, a six-month run was well lived. you couldn't quite clear your status as a princess, but you could've lived with him. a husband and his wife, both living quietly at their home. it wasn't the extravagance you were shaped into, but it felt comfortable. such dreams can only last a minute, unfortunately.

had you known. had you only known that your father wasn't going to let you wander off through his grip. He was enraged at your marriage. "was your vacation enough?" he asked, using your husband's chest as his sword's stand. your father looked at the victim in disgust; he never expected your vision to be so low. so vile, so impure. a shame is what you've become. running around with this peasant while holding the royal name was something the king wouldn't tolerate.

he lacked care for you — hell be damned, he never cared for you. the words write a she but a he is what your father craved. a son, a copy of himself. listening to his wife's words, he believed the sour dream of you becoming him. but alas, you showed him that a vulnerable woman will never be fit for the throne. your father did not a care for you. he didn't bother to retrieve his sword, nor did he bother to comfort you. if you wish to grieve and weep for some random, then so be it. as long as you were back by the moon's descent, he didn't care for your horrors.

quite pitiful, really. it's been hardly a week since that occurred. you weren't given time to grieve — after all, royalty never crumbles. your so-called wedding with al-haitham is due the following week. preparations will take a week. from enevis to sumeru takes roughly two days, granted that the sea is gracious. lost in your train of thought, you mindlessly sink your gaze into the mirror, hoping that soon you'll regain everything.

"my lady, have you completed your morning?" three knocks on the door awaken you. behind the porcelain door stood your lady-in-waiting, adila. aside from your nanny, she was your closest person in the entire palace. 

"just a moment, adila," answering her, you scatter across the room to wear your robe. truth be revealed, you didn't do anything but splash some water around.

you walk towards the door, paying close attention not to just give up and run back to your bed. oh, how tempting giving up sounds! turning the knob, you open the door until it reaches your shoulder, preferring to just peek your head out. such actions were totally not done to observe if any of the other maids were nearby. confirming adila's sole presence, you wrap a hand around hers, pulling her into your room before locking the door.

"must i really go to the dining room? seeing their old heads will fill me with nothing but rage!" you immediately begin your complaints. although it is true that you were in slumber, you cannot deny that you overhead the maids talking about new guests that came to dine.

adila softly laughs. to her, she enjoys moments where you spew words of anger day to night. it's not often you get to speak with such freedom — even your maids are ears for your father. your every movement will be recorded. he cannot afford another shameful action from you.

"it must be done, my lady. what can we do against his majesty's order?" maneuvering across your chamber, she attends to your bed, working her hands to smoothen the silk sheets.

"to hell with him!" 

───

throughout the silent hall, your heels clacked with each step, producing some sort of sound in the deafening silence. at both sides stood two maids — you don't know them. you've avoided learning of any maid the second you learned of spies planted in your palace. sickening and vile. you lack even a sense of comfort in your own wing. the stifling feeling never left; it's as if there's a constant hand pushing down your throat, preventing any particle of air from entering.

slowing your steps, you stop at your palace's entrance. they don't need to follow me. you turn your head to the maid on the right. raising your hand, you notify them both, "you need not follow me any longer. carry on somewhere else." 

"but princess —"

"you need not."

"we understand," bowing slightly, they made their exit. you don't care enough to look where they're going — to hell with him and to hell with them.

mindlessly strolling through your garden, you allow your hand to glide through the rose bushes, not caring about the thorns that pierce your skin. if you were deemed impure then who would give care? 

the walk from your palace to the main palace took roughly ten minutes. you can only wish that it lasted longer. entering the palace, a nauseous feeling grabs hold of you. you've only touched a centimeter in yet it's still disgusting. memories never leave — to be more exact, those memories never leave.  

"are you okay, princess?" a worker, who you couldn't be bothered to learn his position, questioned about your wellbeing. his eyes observed your physical appearance. you were standing upright, like a true royalty, however the evidence of negativity dawned. your unfocused eyes tell more than your words.

"do not worry about me, i am fine," giving him an answer, you focus your vision on him. is he a chef? you wonder. his suit varied from the other male staff: a simple marine blue suit, a lengthy coat that ran down to his mid-calves, white velvet gloves that stopped at his elbows, and a chef's cart standing in front of him. from the dishes standing in it, it seems as though he's going to the same destination you share.

"are these for the morning dine? with the envoys?" you inquire. if it's the truth, you'll enter with him.

"ah, yes, it's the appetizers as the main brunch has yet to finish," he gestures to the top dish before he continues, "would you like to join me to the room, princess?"

"that'll be appreciated," nodding, you both continue on to path that leads south. hopefully one angers the gods and they send two lightning strikes down as a lesson, if that'll ever happen.

arriving at the door, the guards announce your entrance as it opens from the inside. 

too bright, you think.  

small, hesitant steps were taken as you tried hard to focus on your practiced emotions. you did not suffer atrocious lessons to falter at the sight of a damned family. 

"good morning, all. may her rays shine gold," you greet everyone at the table. prefering to not say another sentence until it's over.

"have you slept well?" your mother asked, placing two extra breadsticks on your plate.

"i did. thank you for asking, mother," you replied, opting to not look at her or anyone.

resting his palms flat on the table, your father interrupts to begin the brunch, "let us begin the feast."

───

quite some time has passed, judging from the multi-colored clouds that decorates the sky's canvas. you're all in the main garden, discussing the final actions that'll take place in enevis. well, that excludes you. you fear that you've long blurred out their conversation — it's uninteresting and draining. 

another thirty minutes has passed and yet they've failed to finish their conversation. if you're not given freedom anytime soon, you're going to start malfunctioning.

"it's been decided then. y/n, you'll travel to sumeru today," your father speaks, signing off his signature on the scroll.

"pardon me? today?" you're taken by surprise. maybe you should've kept up with at least the schedule. looking around, you begin to worry about your luggage, "and about my belongings? i don't believe they're bagged already."

"they are."

"oh, alright then," sighing, you sit back into the chair. since when did they do that? you think. 

───

two days have gone since you've left enevis for sumeru. the sea was graceful, thankfully, but it didn't cease the sea sickness.

sumeru is a beautiful kingdom — you cannot deny. it's laced with greenery and architecture that symbolizes its history. unfortunately, leisure time is what you lack. preparations for the wedding will swallow every millisecond of your time. even in your slumber it'll haunt you. the carriage ride to the central city was quiet. you only took your lady-in-waiting to this trip as you do not need more eyes to lurk on you.

you don't remember much from the journey — in all honesty, you blanked out. heavens be cursed you don't even know how you got in this room. it appears to be his office. the ornaments and funiture deprive it from being named a relaxing room. his desk was the messiest of all; multiple layers of scrapped paper, crumbled balls of different colored paper, pens and pencils alike scattered across and last but not least, him. he isn't your soon-to-be husband, but he seems like someone important.

his aura is soft. aside from his shirt having the top three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearm, his coat long abandoned to the side couch, hair tied in a messy bun — is that a straw? well, it looks like someone has been sleeping out in their office.

"please, forgive the mess. i've been slaving for the new building," he speaks up, hands moving with pace to make him and his desk presentable.

"do not worry. take your time, sir," reassuring him, you gift him a genuine smile. at the very least you can be at ease in sumeru.

a smile dawns his face as his shoulders relax. seems like he swore you would've been a rude individual. finishing his... routine... he reaches a hand out to you as he greets himself, "call me kaveh. i'm the marquess of sumeru, head of the architect ministry."

accepting his hand, you follow suit, "i am y/n l/n, first princess of enevis, second to the throne."

"forgive me if i offend but are you not supposed to be the first to the throne?" kaveh asks, his confusion is more than obvious.

"i would've, however, i do not care for the throne. the archduchess is in lead for it," you explain the throne-tree to him. your answer was only half the truth — while it's not a lie that you do not care, it's also the fact that you're too lazy to rule an entire kingdom (but no one needs this knowledge).

kaveh's mouth shapes into an 'O', he nods at your answer as he sits back down. offering you some cookies, he begins once again, "whenever you are ready we can head over to his highness."

"i understand," your curiosity about the prince was immediately quelled without having to say a word. bringing a cookie to your mouth, you hold a hand under your chin for any fallen crumbs.

"heavens, these are delightful!" complimenting the cookies, you hum at the sweet taste.

"they truly are! collei made them. she's a student at the ministry of agriculture and medicine but she's an amazing baker," kaveh rambles. he's quite happy that you truly aren't a "stuck up" princess.

after some time relaxing and listening to kaveh's rambles, you've decided that you'd go to see his highness. don't get it wrong — you adore kaveh and his voice is soothing but you also wish to see your husband.

on the path to al-haitham's wing of the palace, your sense of joy return as your conversations with kaveh never ends. he's a comfortable energy to be around. much different from the sour ecstacy that drowns your home. he's a talker and you're a listener — a combination crafted by the heavens, if you will.

the stroll hadn't past more than fifteen minutes — that itself isn't the accurate time... due to kaveh's excitement to plaster your attention on the details of each pillar. according to his sources, he spent eons delicately crafting every design, paying heed to incorporate historical transcripts and symbols. you both were content with your conversations but to your dismay, all things must come to an end. that and your soon-to-be husband awaits your arrival allegedly.

"we're here! i'll escort you up to his office. he should be there alone," he speaks, holding one hand out to guide you along the staircase.

his hands are soft.

accepting his offer, you gift another smile, "thank you, sir kaveh."

"just kaveh is fine, princess."

"then so be it. call me by my given name as well."

oh, kaveh thinks. to say he's captured by surprise would be a hellish understatement. times like these are where he wishes biology never worked the way it did. the soft pink overlay at the tip of his ears surely didn't go unnoticed.

deciding to refuse, kaveh stumbles on his sentence, "i — i cannot do that, princess."

an expected reaction. you must allow him this, it's only fair as he allowed you.

"please do, kaveh. it is only fair."

fuck, he swears that he isn't this easily flustered. a simple sentence — nothing about it should be this heart-racing. is it because you said it? maybe he needs to visit the nearest hospital.

covering the lower half of his face with the back of his free hand, kaveh continues to escort you to his highness' office. unfortunately for him, he'll have to leave right after. being a marquess and a minister is not an easy job.

───

tense, awkward, and boring. what an uninteresting individual is he. you will not deny, he's quite the eye-catcher, however, he lacks the personality. the minute you entered his office, he greeted you and went back to his paper work. you cannot say he's rude — you were technically disrupting him but is it hard to give you two minutes of his time?! well, the conversation-starter lays in your palms.

"your highness, would you like a cup of tea?"

"no."

okay, rude.

clicking your tongue, you decided it'll be best to leave it in his hands... not.

it's been hours. if another minute passes, you'll give into the urges and slouch. a princess must never lose her composure but this princess might just! the time you've spent observing and making mental analogies of this prince, it is safe to assume that you hate his guts.

a princess that despises awkward situations and a stoic prince. it'll end well, right..?

"accept my apologies, i prefered to finish my documents before attending to you," al-haitham speaks, finally arising from behind his desk and to you.

"it is all right, prince," you lied.

al-haitham walks around his desk, adjusting his cuffs while he made his way to you. compared to kaveh, his energy is dull; he seems as if the light of life had been vacuumed out of his body. you keep your gaze on his figure — he's lean, to say the least. as he sits, you dash your eyes to look somewhere else.

such eyes are too intimidating — it reminds you of your father. al-haitham on the other hand, he calls for a maid to bring in delicacies and such. he will not tolerate leaving his guests deprived of food.

"would you like to discuss the wedding? everything else such as the coronations have been handled prior," he speaks up, educating you on the details you've missed.

"i don't see a reason not to," you replied, smiling at the maids as you whispered a "thank you" to them.

al-haitham leans forward to the coffee table, raising the tea cup to blow the steam.

"well, i'd first say that i will not be bedding you the first night."

"that is quite all — excuse me?" your automatic answer was cut short. just how high is his audacity? how rude to think you'd bed a man like him!

"please, take no offense. i would rather not bed anyone. it is not you, princess," clearing you from any suspicion, he continues to not pay you any mind.

"that is not — anyway, prince, i believe we should set some boundaries?" you suggested, trying your best to calm the twitching vein under your right eye.

"i'll see it done. is a written contract okay with you?" he replies. better than hearing you speak. he may be rude but at least he's tolerable. hopefully.

"yes, i do not mind." with your answer finishing the marriage conversation, you two continue on with casual topics. he's a talker, all right. it seems like he's the person to continue on once you've introduced a topic of his liking.

fortunately, all bad things come to an end. as the moon illuminates, al-haitham decided to end it here. though, before you make your leave, there are a few words he must say.

"i'll see you at the banquet. my staff will send over a gown — it matches with my suit. please do wear it," notifying you about his absolute god-sent kindess (he was forced to.)

al-haitham walks with you to the exit. a blessing of relief washes over him once his eyes landed on someone that appears to be your lady-in-waiting.

"my lady!" adila's steps fasten towards you. she smiles and then stops. who is this peculiar individual? deciding the give a bow of respect, she greets al-haitham, "goodnight, sir who i do not know of."

a chuckle was heard at the right of al-haitham's side. it appears to him that you find this amusing.

"just 'prince' is fine."

"yes — PRINCE?!" adila's eyes display her exact thought process. it's evident that she's thinking something along the lines of "dear heavens, i hope they don't behead me."

"pardon my intrusion, i will leave now. see you at the banquet, prince," you interrupted their conversation — knowing adila, she'd stumble on her words and unleash a train of apologies.

"oh, yes. let us go, my lady!"

ii. banquets, fake impressions and hateful actions | 1.1k words

it's alluring. a gown parallel to the morning sky, diamonds littered around its collar. silver accents adorn its front, reaching down to its very center. ruffled patterns accentuate the back, creating more volume than you could ever ask for. perhaps al-haitham has more to him than a robotic personality.

you're in awe. of course, you've had beautiful gowns before but this — this is just gorgeous. the reflection in the mirror captivated you like no other. your hands slid down the front, adoring the way it complimented your body.

"you look wonderful, my lady. sure to be most explenditurefous!" adila complimented. she busies herself with dusting off your heels as she's the only maid left in your chamber.

"explenditurefous?" you asked, rather confused about the sudden unknown word.

"no word can describe your beauty, so i made my own!" she cleared.

earning a smile from you, you softly laugh at her logic. adila's truly someone you can't live without.

"thank you, adila."

───

the banquet.. is definitely a banquet..! you're not sure if it's because you're in a different kingdom, but they sure do things different to enevis. for the past hour you've held your stance to the side; more comfortable with the option to sit back and lurk rather than to be the main attraction — which is foolish. you, a kingdom's princess, can never hide. your gown matches with that of sumeru's crown prince. only a fool can miss that sign.

swirling your champagne glass, you hum at the difference in people that decorate the banquet's room. they all look beautiful — especially kaveh. looks like he knows how to appear alive when he isn't cooped up in his office.

the music changed? you wonder, carefully listening to the soft, sensual rhythm crafted by the chior.

"my lady, would you care to do me this dance?" someone asks, bowing slightly as he holds out his hand for yours. you don't know him — it's also rather unfortunate that he isn't your type.

"oh, my ap—"

"move along. do not try to dance with her."

well excuse me, you think. it's obvious by his tone who the voice belongs to. a stoic voice for a stoic man, sumeru's crown prince, al-haitham.

he towers over the stranger, eyes oozing of annoyance and authority. al-haitham himself doesn't know why he's so irritated by someone trying to dance with you. is it not basic etiquette? dances shared with others are nothing but a noble's etiquette. nothing more, nothing less. so why must be seethe with rage at the image of you dancing with someone else at the center of the room?

"you, come with me," sliding his hand to your lower back, al-haitham guides you to a deserted room. whether you like it or not, he has business with you.

"heaven forbid! must we walk so fast?!" complaining, you came to a complete stop.

somewhere in the building's balcony, you two stand. the moon's light rains a soft, dim light across both. there's a soft wind that blesses the night. it's romantic — if you weren't stuck with him. you're annoyed that he takes action without — at the very least — talking to you.

and al-haitham? he's lost. physically, he looks bored. mentally, he's panicking. curse his mother for summoning such a breathtaking woman, really.

"you've been blatantly ignoring me ever since the universe was shaped," frowning at him, you poke at his chest. you'll do whatever it takes to show him your annoyance.

"have you any idea how sickening that is —"

huh — why is he — what's going on?

you, him, and a kiss. al-haitham's hand moves from its position at your lower back to your waist. one hand busies itself playing with your gown's jewellry as the other focuses on resting on your cheek. not that you are complaining — actually it's quite the opposite; contrast to your hatred for his attitude, you do not mind getting physical with him. he is, indeed, quite the appetizer.

pulling away, al-haitham's eyes remain in yours. it takes him a few seconds to recollect himself before speaking, "my apologies."

at times like these do you wish adila was here. you're completely out of any sensible answers. fiddling with your fingers, you decide it's to keep it short, "it's fine — but were you not the one who said "no physical contact" prince?"

fuck, forgot about that, cursing himself in his mind, he refutes with a "smart" reply, "think less of it. simply consider it practice for our wedding."

was he not — okay.

"you're a funny guy, you know," succeeding in preventing yourself from malfunctioning, you continue, "a horrible liar too."

"refrain from such assumptions."

"no!"

───

making your grand entrance at the banquet's room, you immediately shuffle away from al-haitham. the buffet calls for you — he can practice patience. sneaking to the buffet, you mentally drool at the sight of different desserts gracing your view. so many to eat, so many to taste. if the goddess permits, you can plan a robbery with adila and send her to your chamber with hidden desserts.

"what're you doing, y/n?" another familiar voice speaks, slightly scaring you in the process.

"who — oh, kaveh!" you beam at him. you've noticed that every time kaveh comes into the picture, your energy immediately restores. perhaps it's just his default power.

engulfing you in a small hug, kaveh snickers at the hidden yet loaded plate that sits behind you. using the clues, he can tell you were having the time of your life.

"you look magnificent," he compliments, completely taken by your appearance.

"you, too! your suit makes you look quite appealing, if i must," returning his compliment, you can feel yourself get giddy over his words. unlike al-haitham, kaveh's somewhat a sweet-talker. but what he lacks is what al-haitham has: boldness. contrast to him, al-haitham's quick with his actions. he acts on command but lacks to verbal confidence.

kaveh clears his throat. as sumeru's marquess, he mustn't show any signs of blushing — especially when he can feel al-haitham's stare digging two holes behind his skull. kaveh, more than anyone, knows sumeru's prince. having grown up with him, he can tell that the intense one-sided eye contact either means 1) get away from her or 2) find yourself here now. and to kaveh, he believes both options hold the same amount of truth.

"well, i have to go before he shoves me to the underworld. i'll see you around, y/n," saying his goodbyes, kaveh hurriedly shuffles through the crowd.

unable to speak due to the cupcake occupying your mouth, you wave at his running figure before returning your attention to the food.

looks like it's going to be a rather rough time being stuck between a prince and a marquess.

[k4katsujin]

daydreaming about dad bod mark...

content: gn reader, mentions of pregnancy/adoption if you dont like pregnancy (cuz i personally dont so lets say you both adopted a kid), husband!mark au, loverboy mark overall <3333 + slightly insecure mark

wc: 540

dt: @unabashedcroissanttreefan

you and mark have been married for a few years now, and since you couldnt get pregnant, you both agreed to adopt a kid.

now, Chloe, your child, was sleeping peacefully in her room, while you were chilling in the living room.

"y/n?" mark asked on an unsure voice "can i ask you something?"

"sure" you reply, putting away the book you were reading. "is something wrong? you never call me by my name unless something is wrong."

he sighs and looks at the ground, as if he was ashamed.

"mark" you say on a soft and reassuring tone, reaching out to hold his hands. "you can tell me, whatever it is, there's no need to feel ashamed about it."

"do you... still think i'm attractive?" he asked after a few moments of hesitation.

"well of course!" you hurried, your face softening. " why would i not anymore?"

"well... this is such a dumb reason, but hear me out, okay?" (you nod) "you know, yesterday, when i was training with my dad, he told me something along the lines of "you've been slower since you're married and youre a parent" and my brain somehow took this as him indirectly telling me i took weight, which i have to admit is kind of true but-"

"mark" you interrupt him, your voice firm yet soft, which made him look at you with poeading eyes, as if he was starting to cry. "is this why you didnt attend Chloe's bi-yearly beach event last year? (he nodded, and you gently cupped his face.) "listen, i will love you regardless, okay?"

"but this is not the man you fell in love with!"

you felt your heart shatter as you felt the distress in your husband's voice.

"listen, i- i dont give a shit what you look like, okay?" you reassure him on a soft tone. "you are a dad now. so, since you calmed down on hero duties,its totally normal to lose a little shape. and i'll tell you what, ive always loved dad bods. and thats totally fine! i get that it freaks you out because physical change in oneself can be scary, but dont you never doubt my live for you just for a tiny bump" (idk if bump is the correct word but you get the point)

"you really think so?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, uncertain of what you might reply.

"of course i do, silly! and ill repeat it until you start believing it!!" you cheerfully exclaim.

"thank you, y/n, you're the best,you know that?" mark reolied as he reaches out to you to hug you tightly.

"i know. im glad the question is settled then! now, do you want to go to the beach with Chloe and her friends? you don't have to if you donr want to of course, okay?" you reassure him as you gently squeezed his hand.

"ill come. go first with her, ill join you later!" he said with a soft smile.

you then headed towards your daughter's room to wake her up.

"y/n?" mark interrupts you, you then turned to face him. "i love you, you know that?"

"i know" you reply softly, "i love you too"

i was half asleep when the idea popped in my mind... you know i had to give my man some comfort... please reblog if you liked the fic, if you do ill give you a cookie and a lil (consented) kith

have a nice day/evening and dont forget to drink water!!

( ﾟ∀ﾟ)人(ﾟ∀ﾟ ) with love from katsu, going offline!

- @k4katsujin