#like that one yellow and blue long fish

[imerian]

My (very old) loscar brooch (?) that i just now made doodles for

More pictures under cut

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Tongue Tied✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: This just came out of nowhere when I was eating cherries, so here we are 😂 I was going to post this one later, but it was just sitting in my drafts.

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, finds you in the kitchen eating some cherries. For your birthday, he gives you something that’ll make you a little tongue tied.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Smut, flirting, teasing, eating cherries, age gap (reader is 24, Joel is 51), oral receiving (fem), fingering, dirty talk, sneaking around, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The air is warm as the summer breeze blows through the open window of the lit up kitchen. After a night of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday, your parents decided to throw you a surprise barbecue. A few of your friends came, a couple of the neighbors meandered around the backyard, but one certain person was here that set your core on fire. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, his favorite fishing buddy. 

   Joel was hot, like extremely hot. And not to mention he was fifty-one. Twice your age and off limits, but that made it that much more fun to tease him. 

   He’s in his signature blue flannel shirt today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose strong arms and tanned skin, large veins threading down his forearms, and large meaty hands that could probably split you in two. His dark jeans hug his strong thighs, and his tousled grey speckled hair is slicked back just begging to be played with. 

   You can’t lie that you dream about him at night, can’t pretend you don’t imagine your fingers are his own that slip inside your dripping core and talk you through your orgasm. Attagirl. Say my name. Yeah, jus’ like that, sweetheart. Such a good fuckin’ girl.

   You bet he’s the best kisser, bet his tongue can take you to places that your fingers never could. You imagine his dark smoldering eyes all blown out and wide, his grey threaded beard tickling against your neckline while his tongue slides against your glistening skin. It’s only a dream, a fantasy your mind has conjured up to fill some void. But you’re determined to win him over one way or another. He will be yours.

   And it’s not like he’s completely innocent. You’ve seen him catch your eye once or twice, have caught him checking you out when you wore that pink bikini to the pool a few weeks ago. He can pretend all he wants, but the man fantasizes about you, too. 

   You sigh and pick another cherry from the big bowl sitting on the ceramic kitchen counter, popping it into your mouth as the sweet flavor slides down your throat. You lean against the counter and pull your short yellow dress down, the material barely grazing your tanned thighs. 

   You pop another cherry into your mouth and enjoy the quiet kitchen, taking just a few moments to pull yourself together until you have to go back outside. You’re sure they’re looking for you, but you had to get away from the heat of Joel’s smoldering stare. 

   Another minute goes by until you hear boots scuffing against the tiled floor. When you look up from under your long lashes, you freeze in place and gulp down the cherry that almost gets stuck in your throat. There he is, Joel Miller. Just standing and leaning against the doorway, brown eyes locked on yours. 

   “What’re you doin’ in here? Your dad’s lookin’ for ya out in the back,” Joel says across the kitchen.

   “Couldn’t come get me himself so he sent you instead? What a good friend you are.” You roll your eyes, one eyebrow raising in question while you see him scoff under his breath. 

   “Don’t be a brat. He’s busy makin’ burgers. Jus’ asked if I could come find ya.”

   “Well, you found me.” You lean into the counter and pick out another plump cherry. 

   “C’mon then. Get out there.” He nods his head towards the backyard and crosses his large arms over his broad chest. 

   “Can’t you see I’m busy?” You pop the cherry into your mouth and twirl the stem in between your fingers, keeping your eyes locked carefully on his. 

   He huffs out annoyed, pinching the bridge of his nose  while he makes his way across the kitchen, stopping on the opposite side of the counter as he leans against it and keeps his arms tight across his chest. “Yeah, real busy over there. Those cherries must be real good if they’ve got you locked in the kitchen.” His eyes flick to the glass bowl as you plop another one out from the batch. 

   “Sooo good.” You take your tongue and lick up the side of the cherry, pushing it into your mouth as you throw the stem on the edge of the counter. 

   He watches you chew, gulping down saliva as he focuses in on your red glossy lips. He thinks you look so gorgeous in your little yellow sundress, thinks your lips might taste just like those cherries. Savory, sweet, delicious. A thought that’s crossed his mind more than once before.

   He shouldn’t be in here alone with you, shouldn’t even stare while you lick your plush lips and devour the fresh cherries all seductively in front of him. He can picture you down on your knees, your tongue gliding over the tip of his throbbing cock, his fingers fisting the back of your hair while he fucks your pretty little mouth with his thick cock. He wants to hear those melodic moans out of your mouth, needs to get his mouth on your pretty pink pussy, would love to throw you on top of his bed sheets while he fucks you till he fills you with hot ropes of cum. 

   He’s a bad man for thinking of his best friend’s daughter like that, but he can’t help wanting something he can’t technically have. You’re off limits to him and so much younger, but he doesn’t give a shit. 

   He sees the way you’ve been teasing him. Walking around in those short skirts that barely cover your curvy ass and brushing your fingertips against his arms with every chance you get. He’s not a stupid man, he knows what you’re doing. But he won’t dare try to stop you. He likes the tease, loves the thought of you pining over him, and maybe one day he’ll finally teach you a lesson of what happens to naughty girls that just don’t know when to quit.

   “Stop that,” he demands, watching you lick your lips slowly while you swallow a cherry. 

   “Stop what?” you ask innocently. 

   “Stop teasin’ me.” His eyes are narrowed, jaw clenched as his eyes follow your tongue licking across the fresh fruit. 

   “Make me,” you smirk. You swallow the cherry whole and tap your manicured fingernails against the counter top, challenging him to make a move. 

   He clenches his fingers into a tight fist, sliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his eyes darkening as his nostrils flare in anger. He’s mad, furious that you’re making him this frazzled. He can’t ignore the hardening cock that stiffens against the denim of his jeans. All because you’re a fucking tease. 

   You pop your hip out and play with the cherry stem in between your fingers, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously at the handsome man that can barely control himself around you. “You know, they say if you can tie a knot with your tongue with a cherry stem that means you’re a good kisser,” you smirk. 

   “Is that right, darlin’?” he asks all intrigued, leaning forward as his dark eyes hone in on you. 

   “Mhm. Read a thing or two about it,” you giggle. 

   “Show me.” His voice comes out deep, gravelly as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. It doesn’t come out as a response but a demand loud and clear. 

   You smirk his way and nod. You pop the cherry stem in your mouth and get to work. Your tongue twists and turns, working hard to get just the right angle with the stem. Joel watches you eagerly, his eyes blowing wide while his nostrils flare aggressively. You know he’s hard behind his jeans, and you’re dying to see just how massive he is. 

   When you finally feel the tiny knot in the stem, you open your mouth and reach in, grabbing the wet end with your fingertips. You hold it up and sure enough you did it. Right in the middle it’s tied in a tight knot. You knew you could do it. 

   Joel smirks your way, smoldering eyes glazed in a trance as he flicks them up and down your body seductively. Oh, he’s impressed and turned on. Look at the mess you’ve made. 

   “Color me impressed, sweetheart. That’s a neat talent you got there. What else can you do with that tongue?” he asks with a devilish grin curling against his big lips. 

   “Why don’t you come find out?” you taunt him. 

   He’s on you in less than a minute, large hands holding your hips against the counter while his hard cock digs into your thigh. You’re breathless, breathing in the scent of his mahogany cologne and his fresh soap smell while his dark eyes bleed into yours.

   “Careful with that pretty mouth, darlin’. I don’t think you realize what you’re gettin’ yourself into,” he warns, blown eyes making slick build in your lacy panties. 

   “No? I think I do,” you smirk. 

   “Shouldn’t be playin’ games with your dad’s best friend, sweetheart. Could get ya into trouble,” he tsks, clicking his tongue will his thick fingers dig into the material of your skimpy dress. 

   “So get me into trouble, Mr. Miller,” you whisper, enticing him to make a move as your hand drags down to where his hard cock is skimming across your thigh. 

   He’s on you then, his warm mouth pressing firmly against yours as his hands slowly slide your dress up. The kiss is messy, hot, uncontrolled as one of his hands fist the back of your curls. You part your mouth open and invite him in, letting him slot his tongue inside your panting mouth. 

   Your fingers slide through his tousled curls, pulling a low groan from his throat while his tongue licks feverishly inside your mouth. You could drown in his coffee taste, get lost in his lush locks with his teeth nipping at your skin. This was better than you imagined, better than your wildest dreams.

   He slides his calloused thumb against your drenched lace, finding your buzzing clit as he draws meticulous circles over and over. You moan into his mouth, panting his name as his fingers set your core on fire. 

   “Yeah? You like that, little tease?” he chuckles darkly, nipping against your bottom lip as another moan leaves your lips. 

   “Yes, fuck yes,” you say through clenched teeth. 

   “Mmm. Dirty girl wants her daddy’s best friend to finger fuck her, is that right?” he teases, sliding his fingers inside your lace and gliding through your damp folds, his fingers curling up into your dripping hole.

   You part your lips and moan, twisting your fingers tightly through his messy curls. “Fuck, Joel. Please, please. Want you to… ohhh,” you moan, melting into a puddle as his thick fingers hit that spongy spot that you can never reach yourself. 

   “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles. 

   His mouth finds neck, sucking against your collarbone as his free hand squeezes one of your perky breasts. He elicits another moan from you, the wet noises of his fingers fucking into you floating around the room, the obscene sounds making him groan against the shell of your ear. 

   Before you know what happens he releases his fingers from your core and grabs your hips firmly, hoisting you up on the edge of the counter while he pulls the ruined lace down your legs and drops them to the tiled floor. You let out a squeak, watching the way he spreads your legs and pulls you to the edge, hungry eyes eating you alive. 

   “Gonna need you to be quiet, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” he asks through gritted teeth, like he’s holding himself back from dragging you to his mouth. 

   “Mhm,” you hum, out of breath while more slick pools in between your thighs. “Joel, please,” you beg. 

   “Ain’t gotta beg, baby girl. Gonna take good care of this pretty pussy,” he purrs. 

   He wastes no time as he licks a thick stripe up your folds, lathering you in the wetness of his warm tongue. You throw your head back and grip the edge of the counter while he settles your legs over his shoulders. 

   He places his meaty hands around the backs of your thighs and starts to make out with your pussy. His tongue divides your folds, licking up inside your drenched hole and makes his way up to your puffy clit. He draws meticulous circles over your aching bundle of nerves, eliciting low moans that fall off the tip of your tongue. 

   You tangle your hands through his smooth locks, hear him grunt while he pulls your buzzing mound into his warm mouth. “Oh my God, Joel,” you whine. 

   “Yeah? Like the sound of you moaning my name, sweetheart. Say it again,” he demands as he plunges two thick fingers into your gushing core, watching slick slide down his hand while he’s knuckles deep in you. 

   You moan it again and again and again, watching his blown out eyes stare up at you menacingly, mouth feasting on your drool coated pussy. He finger fucks you swiftly, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot over and over again, his deft tongue gliding against your throbbing clit until you’re right on the edge. 

   Your walls clench against his fingers, mouth chanting his name dreamily while he gets you right where you need to be. 

   “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench these fingers with that sweet, sticky cum. Be a good girl now,” he purrs, licking against your warm core. 

   He pulls your bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks hard, rutting his thick fingers against the sweetest spongy spots that takes you to the finish line. You throw your head back and moan his name, feeling the white hot heat slide down the back of your spine. 

   “Attagirl. Look at you spill, goddamn” he growls, licking your spilling slick between your thighs and working his fingers in and out of your core, making sure to get every single drop of cum from your center. 

   He talks you through it, licking you clean as he works you through your intense orgasm, massaging your thighs until your breathing is back to normal. He slides your panties back up your thighs, covering your ruined pussy while he pulls your skirt back over your thighs.

   He stands up between your legs and circles your hips with his meaty hands, whispering sweet incantations in the shell of your ear. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Hope you liked your present.” 

   He gives you a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste your own release on the tip of your tongue along with the delicious taste of him. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck loosely, not yet wanting him to leave the room without you tucked into his side. “Joel,” you murmur through a warm daze.

   “Hmm?” He knits his eyebrows into a tight line and looks at you with clouded brown eyes.

   “Can we do that again?” you ask with big sappy eyes full of hope.

   He huffs out, groaning through his teeth as his wide eyes stay locked on yours. “You want to do that again?” he asks, licking his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. 

   “Mhm,” you nod, smiling over at him. “Next time I want you to fuck me, and I want to suck your cock.”

   He chokes on his own saliva and chuckles out, shaking his head as he tightens his grip on your hips. “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna be a handful, ain’t ya?”

   “You know I am.” You giggle and push your fingers through his messy curls, adjusting it so it doesn’t look like he just went down on you. 

   He shakes his head and sighs, helping you off the spotless counter top. His fingertips hover over your back, hands pressing against your sweating skin while his lips hang dangerously close to your mouth. “You messy girl. What am I gonna do with ya, huh?” he smiles, tracing his thumb over your lower lip.

   “Guess you just have to keep me,” you shrug, smiling blissfully at the man of your dreams.

   “Maybe I will, sweetheart. Maybe I will.”

   He curls a strand of hair behind your ear and trails his lips against your cheek, mouth closing in on yours. Your breath hitches and body comes alive just waiting for his lips to be back on yours. Suddenly, the back door is swinging up and heavy footsteps are coming through the kitchen entryway.

   You and Joel jump apart, your heart in your throat and adrenaline coursing through your blood. “There you two are. Was wondering where you were,” your dad shouts, his loud voice killing the heat of the moment. 

   “Sorry, bud. Your daughter here was just showin’ me how good these cherries were,” Joel says calmly. He grabs a cherry from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, winking your way before he exits the kitchen with your dad. 

   You stand there breathlessly, not believing what just happened. Joel just kissed you, finger fucked you, and ate you out in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could’ve walked in and saw. You were walking on thin ice, but you’d happily do it all over again.

   You readjust your dress and smooth down your messy locks, making sure your lipstick isn’t all smudged down your chin. Once you make sure you look like you hadn’t just been fucked, you make your way outside into the backyard. 

   Your friends crowd around the inground pool while your folks and neighbors sit around on some lounge chairs, sipping on lemonade and eating hamburgers off plastic plates. You find an empty chair next to your friend, Nikki, and act as if you were completely normal. Nothing was normal about today, though. Not after what just happened in the kitchen with Joel Miller. The hottest neighbor that had walked into your dad’s life three years ago. Guess he always had a thing for you secretly, you just didn’t know it till this year.

   Your eyes flick across the lawn and you find Joel staring at you, nursing a beer down with his lips around the flute of the bottle. His honey brown eyes find yours, and you gasp when you see a smudge of red lipstick smeared across the collar of his blue flannel. You giggle at the sight of it, snickering to yourself as you join in on a conversation about your weekend plans. 

   Guess you left your mark on him after all. 

[puzzled-pegasus]

Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[kakushino]

Be my Owner

Demon pet! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader

Demons mated for life, sharing lifespan with their mates.

Tags: mild allusions to depression (reader), demon pet AU (domesticated demons), in heat, smut, nipple play, mating, dom-leaning bottom reader (i think???) Word count: 7,4k

Masterlist | My Pet Demon collab

You knew you were not well mentally; the deep hole, where your heart should be, made itself known a long time ago. What you didn’t understand was the reason you… required a pet. And it wasn’t even any pet - a dog would have sufficed, maybe - but your best friend gave you a fucking demon.

You didn’t know what you did to deserve your best friend but this was a bit… over the top. Especially now as you stared your new charge in the impossibly deep blue eyes. 

Giyuu was a serious-looking demon, long black hair a little tangled and dry, giving it a distinct spiky shape, cute dark blue horns poking out from his head. He also had dark eyebags, which was hardly surprising, given that he’d had to travel in the sun, which weakened demons a great amount. An overall gaunt appearance was what made your heart want to keep it - keep him.

Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers, though there was a movement about giving them rights by law. You supported that movement passively, but you would have to immerse yourself in it more, now that you owned a demon.

He’d been silent the entire time you and your best friend talked, not moving an inch, and he was still not saying anything when they left.

“So…” He perked up a little when you started to speak. “Uhm… When was the last time you ate?” 

Giyuu shifted on his feet, the first true response to anything that was said that day. His voice was a little raspy, though not overly deep, and it retained a soothing quality. “...three days ago.”

Your friend told you he needed to feed at least once a week, so to be safe, you had to get some meat for him. It would do you no good to starve him, what with his current appearance. “And what type of meat do you prefer?”

The question made him raise his eyebrows briefly, before they fell back into a neutral expression. It seemed not many people, if anyone at all, asked him that. “Salmon.”

You had some salmon filets in the freezer that you could let thaw in the sink for him. It was a curious choice, less… usual? You would think he’d go for more human-like meat, such as pork. Oh well, you would have to look up diet options for him. Your friend told you he was a mutt - a mixed type breed - so you would heed his preference to salmon as well.

You tried not to think how much you focused on feeding him right, when you yourself often skipped eating for days.

Your life with Giyuu settled into a new routine. 

You spread your couch for him for a few days until you could get him a true bed. He always seemed surprised by these little gestures of… human kindness you displayed for him.

The first night on the couch, he’d hardly moved from sleeping on his back; the second he was turned onto the side; by the time a week went by, he’d relaxed enough to snuggle close to the green and yellow bunny plushie you had given him.

You took to feeding him twice a week, which always made his eyebrows twitch before he dug in. Though you followed some advice you found on the demon diet, you tried to incorporate salmon as much as possible, so he could enjoy his favorite meat. You found out he was quite the messy eater, bringing a smile to your face whenever you had to gently wipe off the fish scales or other raw bits off of his cheeks.

Since his hair started to tame down a little from its tangled mess - though the baths he’d taken helped too - you thought the diet was a success.

You ordered some clothes for him. Most of them fit him, some were oversized, but all were made for comfort. Sweatpants, cotton shirts, one hoodie for when the weather became colder, some underwear and socks. You would take him shopping for a pair or two of shoes later, as he’d come bare-footed, as well as buying him more clothes that fit him properly - and also maybe jeans and a dress-shirt, for other occasions... What you received through mail would be enough for now.

The bed arrived. Your flat wasn’t that big, forcing you to put his bed in the living room corner instead of his own room. You tried to give him privacy, giving him several choices of different curtains and screens - of which he’d chosen a sliding-door type screen reminiscent of shoji doors.

Taking care of Giyuu gave you a strange satisfaction. Fulfilling his needs came to you like second nature, and you always pushed through your exhaustion to do things for him you would rarely do for yourself before he came into your life. 

You started to see merit in owning him when you actually went to take a shower after not showering for three days, thinking ‘I must be stinky to him’. You changed your sheets right after that and laid in your clean bed in a fresh set of clothes with your window open to let in the evening air. It was odd. You felt better somehow, despite the two basic actions taking up the rest of your energy.

Your eyes wandered to the door which led to the living room and wondered about Giyuu’s situation. At times it felt like the two of you were two sides of the same coin. Did either of you really have a purpose in life?

Did Giyuu truly deserve to have an owner like you - struggling with basic human needs?

Probably not.

But you were all he had.

With that depressing thought, you drifted off to sleep.

Before you knew it, it was four months, nearly five, into your companionship arrangement. 

One thing you felt bad about was your hermit-type lifestyle. You worked from home as an editor, which was good for your mental health, and also for your new pet, as you were always home in case something happened. It had a bad side too though - like staying cooped up in the apartment forever. 

While you worked, you allowed Giyuu to stay in your room with you, setting up a small corner for him with a large beanbag, and a few books to read after you confirmed he was literate. At the moment, he was spread out over the chair on his back, reading through Game of Thrones for the nth time. He really seemed to like that book, perhaps you should get the next one in the series, though you never got to finish the first one, courtesy of your limited energy levels throughout the day.

Or perhaps - your thoughts flitted to the Demon Rights movement - you could see if there was a meet up somewhere nearby, so he could interact with other local demons. You remembered they sometimes did those…

You opened up your social media, the one you recently created solely to interact with the local DR group, and checked the upcoming events. It took a little bit of scrolling but you saw one that suited you. 

The Night Parade A.K.A. DR’s 13th Meet up!

It was in a park about 30 minutes away by foot, and the start was around an hour after sunset, which was perfect. The description encouraged people to bring their demon companions for much-needed socializing while the humans could see what others do to help their demons acclimate in homes and other living arrangements. 

The last sentence made your heart plummet down to your stomach.

A kindly reminder that demon companions are required to wear collars by law.

There was a link to their website which offered sustainable collars which didn’t hurt the demons while wearing it.

You saved your work and looked up more information about demon collars, immersing yourself in the vast world that was the Demon Rights site and other sources. Once you deemed yourself at least partially educated on the issue, you went back to the DR e-shop and scoured it for one you thought would be okay for your demon companion.

“Giyuu?” you glanced at him, the book he had been holding in his hand was bookmarked and closed, laying on the table you placed next to his beanbag. He’d been reading not a second ago, how was he so fast? At least he didn’t stand up as he had been prone to do the first month whenever you addressed him.

At times you wondered if he was mute, but then he surprised you by speaking with you in a low voice - which happened more often as he got comfortable. “Yes, owner?” 

“How do you feel about going outside?”

His eyebrows twitched, which you had come to interpret as excitement. You liked to think you were getting better at reading him. “Whatever you want to do, we will do, owner.”

You nodded. “Well… To go outside, you need to… wear a collar,” you said softly, looking at him and gauging his reaction. He gave away nothing. “And, well, I did my research and there were multiple options and I found one that might-” You beckoned him closer and he practically shot to your side, very nearly startling you. “Oh! Yes, do you think this one would be alright?” You scooted a little to the side with your chair, letting him lean in to see the screen. 

It was a relatively plain collar, with nichirin cord hidden in the fabric, and though the locking mechanism was very simple it abided by the law standards. There were no wisteria poison pouches nor electric shock add-ons as your ‘normal’ ‘pet shop’ might offer. The e-shop offered several color options as well.

You watched him as he read the specifications. Was it too much? Maybe you should get just a plain one for other ‘pets’ and try to disguise it as a proper collar. 

Still… it felt wrong to put a collar on Giyuu, as if he were an animal. The thought of degrading him like this made your stomach churn.

“Can I-?”

“Go ahead.”

He took the mouse and clicked on the wine red option. Giyuu stood up straight and looked at you blankly, waiting for you to understand what he meant.

Your eyes flitted between him and the screen, raising your eyebrow. “You want this one?” 

He nodded.

You supposed it was better than choosing a color for him. You quickly added it to the cart, along with a… leash. The whole situation made you feel icky.

Giyuu hovered over you for a moment longer, before you waved him off to his seat with a mutter of ‘thanks’ over your shoulder.

A deep sigh left you, and though you didn’t see, he picked up on it, observing you for a long moment.

At times he wondered if it was him who burdened you so. He knew however that the problem lay deeper inside of you than just a pet like him. He could smell it on you, the lack of certain hormones that fueled human happiness. 

And just as he could smell the lack of them, he could recognize when their levels spiked up - like when you watched him reading in his little corner, or when you saw him dozing in his bed, or enjoying his meat. He also registered that you liked to see him grooming himself, like brushing his hair (rather wrestling it into a manageable mane) and putting oils onto his horns.

His horns, and hair, had been dried out for a long while, the previous shelter not doing much to help out his problems. 

Thanks to your tender care and change of diet, he saw his water marks returning too. The one on his chest was the first to appear, the dark blue standing out against his skin. You had yet to notice.

That was the thing he prided himself in. He was not a mutt, as most people assumed. His coloring was a little unusual but he was of the Urokodaki line, Tomioka branch of Water demons. Giyuu was probably one of the last pure blood demons there were, making him stronger than others - if fed properly. And you did. You listened to him and fed him a fish-based diet for his needs.

You were the first owner who asked him about his opinion and cared about it. And that was one single fact which would make him loyal to death to you. He would gladly wear a collar with your name on it, outside and inside, with pride. 

Because he was yours, body and soul.

You had nearly forgotten about the event until your calendar gave you a notification. The package from the e-shop had arrived only two days after you ordered it, and you had yet to open it, leaving it to collect dust. The uncomfortable feeling returned. You very much did not want to put a collar on Giyuu, it had to be humiliating - for him - and the last thing you wanted to do was make him out to be some sort of beast he certainly was not.

“Uhm, so,” you started nervously. “We are going out today…”

Giyuu was looking down at you head tilted slightly, as you stood by a small package on the counter. He remained silent.

“I’m really sorry but uhm, by law you need to have a collar… when we go out,” you reminded him gently, fumbling with the package. “I didn’t want to do it but I really need to. I’m so, so sorry. I hate to do this,” you took a deep breath to calm down as you finally took the collar out. 

It appeared high quality, the color matching the picture you remembered exactly. There was a complementary tag with Giyuu’s name and your phone number engraved on it; though very standard, it still made you upset. 

You fumbled with the lock mechanism to undo it so you could slip it on him. Giyuu kindly lifted his hair up when you reached around his neck to fasten it. You tightened the strap only slightly so it wouldn't chafe, checking with your fingers between the material and his cool skin if it was loose enough; it was. 

Electric shocks ran down his spine when you finally touched him - for the first time. You ran a little warmer than he did, and that pleasant contrast against him made the contact all the more enticing. He could not help but close his eyes, content. 

“I’m really sorry, once again,” you mumbled, turning back to the box to take out the matching leash you ordered along with it, tears of frustration filling your eyes.

Giyuu finally said, “I don’t mind.”

His words made you freeze.

“I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.” 

The walk to the park was dark, obviously, but you somehow didn’t fear the night with Giyuu by your side… on a leash.

I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.

Why did his words not bother him at all? You were upset with yourself; did you really create an image of being possessive of him? Did he think you kept him at home because you didn’t want him to run?

The questions and emotions that followed kept swirling in your brain, even as Giyuu nearly breathed down your neck with his closeness despite giving him as much lead as you could. 

The park was closer than you thought. You weren’t the first to arrive, thank god, and you took a moment to admire the decorations, before you turned to Giyuu.

His horns gleamed in the soft light of the fairy lights that were put up by the organizers. His skin seemed to have a warm glow to it for the first time. Looking at him now, you could tell he became much healthier in your care and that made your heart squeeze. 

How cruel must his previous owners have been to him to reduce him into the wraith he had been when he came to you?

You shook your head and untucked the leash from his collar. Once on the event grounds, you were free to let the demon companions roam and socialize, and you did want Giyuu to have friends outside of you - if you could call yourself his friend at all.

You were his owner after all.

His dark blue eyes observed you for a moment, as if asking for permission or guidance.

“Giyuu, I want you to have fun with other demons here,” you told him softly, a complex mix of emotions stirring up your belly.

Giyuu could pick up on each and decipher them easily though - you were anxious, sad, yet your ‘happiness’ levels weren’t that low… It was a strange smell on you, especially with how you encouraged him to go ‘have fun’. 

But in the end, he strived to make you happy. If you wanted him to talk to others, he would do so.

You watched him walk away towards a group of demons further into the park. You had to tear your eyes away from him, lest you keep staring at him all evening. 

Though he recognized some of the demons in the gathering, one in particular nearly made him pull a face. 

Shinobu.

The butterfly demon was a menace.

And she made herself known the second she spotted him.

“Oh my, if it isn’t Giyuu. I didn’t know shelters allowed mutts to roam the streets.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight line. Shinobu wasn’t blind, she saw he had a collar, and she knew, of course she knew, that he belonged to a human now. Yet she still chose to taunt him with these untrue things.

“I’m not a mutt,” he focused on the other false information she sprouted. He knew he looked different, but he was of purer blood than her, which she had yet to sense. His face mark had still not appeared either.

She grinned, “Keep telling yourself that and you might actually believe it. Where is the poor human who’s stuck with you?”

He tensed. He was not going to share anything about you with Shinobu of all people. 

“I bet the shelter had to pay them to take you so you would stop stinking up the place.”

“That’s not true,” he told her quietly, unwilling to make a scene and ruin your evening. For you will surely come running if you found him arguing with another demon.

“Not that you were worth much in the first place. Probably had to sweeten the deal somehow…”

Only your opinion of him mattered to him. He didn’t care about Shinobu’s grandstanding… but should she take your name into her mouth, he would surely not hold himself back.

“What, did you spread your legs for your owner to take you?”

“That is a false assumption, Miss Demon, and I would kindly suggest you shut up about things you know nothing about.”

Giyuu turned slightly towards you, not letting Shinobu out of his sight in case she tried something. His heart beat fast.

“Ara ara~ did I hit a nerve? My apologies~” Shinobu’s smile was empty of any emotion, yet it was obvious she felt she was right with her assumption. She checked her wrist as if she had a watch there. “It seems the time I had for you ran out. See ya~”

Watching Shinobu retreat brought Giyuu no satisfaction even as he stepped closer to you. He was tense, and he could smell your anger wafting off of you as well. 

Had you really come to his defense? He would not have let her talk badly about you, of course, but your presence and words warmed his heart. His chest feeling tight as the strong drumming of his pulse beckoned him to start a dance with you - one he was not sure he could finish just yet. Even so, his teeth ached with need.

His dark blue eyes finally met yours, an unknown emotion swirling in his stomach as he breathed in your scent. You were slowly calming down, shoulders relaxing. Oh, he felt he could purr when he realized it was his proximity that made it so, his face gaining a pleased flush hidden by the darkness of the night.

Giyuu stepped closer to you again, nearly leaning into you in a daze.

"Are you okay?" Your worried voice snapped him out of his trance.

You had defended him and now you were worried? Fuck. He wanted to show you he could protect you too, that he could care for you too, that he could provide for you too… 

"I am. I apologize for ruining your evening, owner," he tried to infuse as much of his devotion as he could into his voice, though it was not enough. It would never be enough. His brain whirled with thoughts of how he could show you how he felt for you.

You rushed to reassure him otherwise, making one of the parts inside him preen. “You didn’t ruin anything, Giyuu… What that demon said was uncalled for. If I knew who her… owner was, I’d have a talk with them.”

The situation truly made you mad. Giyuu might not have been as aware of her accusation, but you’d looked up everything the Demon Rights movement protested and felt sick at what you found. 

Demon prostitution.

Forced, of course.

You were glad he had been in the bath at the time, because your reaction had been so visible and uncontrolled you had to walk outside for a minute to breathe. 

The thought of you forcing Giyuu into that kind of thing made you feel even sicker inside as you calmed down in the cool outside air.

Your demon pressed close to you so close you could feel his reassuring warmth, his torso nearly touching your arm. You breathed in his scent and blinked slowly, lulled by his presence. 

A black haired man caught your eye. No, not man, a demon - a demon with an electric collar, one you quickly scrolled past when you saw it in the e-shop. He seemed to be snarling at another demon, a very pale blonde one, before a human woman touched his arm, speaking to him with a smile. 

You recognized the woman from the DR group - she was one of the organizers, Mrs Kamado.

You observed the interaction between the black haired demon and the organizer, realizing that the electric collar was needed for him. He seemed to have selective hearing and it was obvious that she didn’t use it heavily at all, choosing to talk him down instead… which seemed to be working.

“His name is Muzan.” 

You turned to the young man standing next to you. He had a scar on his forehead, his eyes and hair a dark color with shades of red gleaming through when the light hit him just right. “Sorry?”

“The demon is Muzan, he’s an old coot and a bit of a brat but he isn’t that bad,” he explained with a smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m Kamado Tanjiro, my parents are the ones who organized this.”

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is [Name],” you introduced yourself, fully focusing on him.

A click coming from behind you made your head snap around. Giyuu was standing there, looking away from you, seemingly uninterested in what was happening in front of him. You frowned in confusion, turning back to Tanjiro.

Even with the hiccup at the start, you counted tonight as success. After your brief introduction to Tanjiro, who you learned was an University student at the Ubuyashiki University, he showed you around, guiding you through meeting many owners and demon companions throughout the night. You didn’t meet with the female demon who bothered Giyuu again, thankfully.

You dropped your keys into a bowl by the door with a tired sigh. All the socializing drained you.

You dropped Giyuu’s leash to take off your cross-body bag before you turned to him to take off his collar. You frowned, noticing the gleam of the metal lock seemed a bit dull compared to before.

No matter, you took off the leash and reached for the mechanism.

It did not budge.

You tried again, getting the same result.

“This is strange… Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to sit on your couch so you could see the collar properly in the light of your living room. 

The metal was scratched - badly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Was there a physical fight between Giyuu and the female demon before you noticed them? How had it gotten so busted up? 

You tried to open it again and again, your attempts getting a little desperate as you tried to find a new angle.

Tears of frustration filled your eyes.

You never wanted to make Giyuu wear it. How were you going to take it off of him? It must be so insulting, being degraded into a pet. 

Fuck, you fucked up.

Pale warm hands covered yours, halting your efforts. Your eyes met his, the impossibly deep blue of Giyuu’s soul stared back at you. There was no fear, no judgment. He was looking at you kindly, as if it was not your fault, as if he wanted to reassure you. 

Your throat clogged up with emotion.

“I do not mind, owner,” he said lowly. “I don’t mind keeping it on at home.” 

You pressed your lips together in an unhappy line. “I’m sorry, Giyuu…”

His fingers grabbed your hands in a loose hold and he brought them up to his lips, nuzzling the knuckles gently with closed eyes. “Do not be, owner. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You had nothing to be sorry for, because he had been the one to destroy the mechanism. You would have never allowed him to wear the collar at home, even if he asked. He had realized that while you were putting the collar onto him, and that’s why he did it.

It worked.

He smiled when you turned away from him.

After a shower, Giyuu laid in his bed, staring at the bunny you had given him when he first came to you. The pattern had reminded him of his old friend a little, but the scent had been yours, all yours. 

It was clear to him the bunny plushie had belonged to you before you gave it to him, even if you washed it before he received it.

Now months later, your scent was gone.

But he could easily imagine it as he hugged the bunny close to his chest. He could imagine it was your body against his, warming him; your scent, the one he breathed in today, that enveloped him in comfort and… something else.

There was a strange feeling in his gut that he ignored for the moment.

Would you hug him, if he asked for it? Would you scent the bunny plushie, if he asked for it? Would you become his bunny, if he asked for it?

He quickly backpedaled. 

His bunny?

He… quite liked that. You could be his bunny, and he would be your protector, as it should be.

The feeling in his belly spread into his chest, making him feel hot in his pajamas. Giyuu was confused as to what it could be, pondering on the issue as he snuggled the bunny even closer, imagining it was you.

What had happened differently today?

You gave him the collar, you went to the park, you walked back, you tried taking off the collar…

You touched him.

His hips bucked, making his eyes snap open. He was… humping the bunny unconsciously, thinking of you. 

Though Giyuu realized it was strange to do so, he continued, fantasy overtaking his mind as he closed his eyes again. Your body, pliable and warm under him; your voice, the pretty moans it could produce; your cunt, sopping wet about to be filled with his cu-

Oh fuck.

Giyuu realized what was happening.

He’d entered his heat.

The morning came too early. 

Your clock read 10:36 AM when you groaned, knowing you won’t be able to sleep anymore. The least you could do was get up and do your hygiene, even if you didn’t feel that hungry for breakfast.

You tiptoed into the bathroom, the sight in the mirror nearly sending you back to bed. You had dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks puffy from sleep, and your hair messy. Nevertheless, you ran your hands through your hair to make it half-presentable, and brushed your teeth, checking your notifications on your phone. There was a friendship request on your social media from Tanjiro, which made you smile and quickly accept. 

By the time you were done with your teeth, you had already started up a conversation with him as he talked about the bakery his family owned. You promised to visit him, and the bakery, when you had the time.

The living room was dark, as it had been since you’d gotten Giyuu. You walked closer to check on him, the bit of light from your open bedroom door enough to see him by. 

He was snuggled with the plushie you’d given him. The cute sight brought a smile to your face, and you went to cover him back up with his blanket, when you noticed something odd. 

Giyuu was sweaty, his pajama shirt damp and his hair sticking to his face as he panted softly, noises of discontent leaving him as his brows furrowed.

You quickly stepped closer to him, sliding the shoji-like curtain along smoothly. You reached out to touch his forehead, worried.

Just as you felt the heat of his skin, his hand grabbed your wrist tightly. “Don’t,” he rasped out, his eyes opening a sliver, feverishly bright.

You frowned, “But Giyuu, you’re burning u-”

“You can’t-” he gasped when you pushed past his weak resistance and touched his sweaty forehead. Again, he tried to fight your hand on him. “You can’t touch me.” 

“What? Why can’t I?” you pulled back slightly, trying to respect his boundaries but also worried out of your mind, leaning over to look him in the eyes.

He let out a strangled sound, nearly crawling back in the bed away from you. His face was flushed a deep red as you reached for him again. “I’m in heat.” He pushed his bunny plushie against you, but you only set it aside and grabbed his wrist. “S-stop touching me, I- I can’t-” 

I can’t hold myself back, is what he wanted to say. Giyuu had wanted to say a lot of things before touching you properly. He had wanted to court you, to give you proper courting gifts and attention, to show you he could be a good mate. This unplanned heat triggered by your touch last night was throwing a stick into his plans. 

He wanted you, he needed you.

You were oblivious to his thoughts, worried out of your mind. “But isn’t the heat painful? Why don’t you take off your shirt?” You didn’t press forward but still gave him no room to escape. “I want to help you, Giyuu.”

Did you even know what you were saying? What your words were doing to him? His face flushed an even deeper red.

You misinterpreted his blush for embarrassment and your thoughts raced in circles. How could you make him more comfortable?

“Why don’t I take off my shirt too? Look,” you quickly discarded the oversized shirt you slept in, leaving you in your panties as you knelt in front of him on his bed. “Now your turn.”

Giyuu was stupefied, and pliable, as you sat him up and took off his shirt as well, making you gasp. His chest was half-covered with demon markings of deep blue imitating water in the way they flowed and centered - it was like an artist splashed him with color and left it to dry. 

Your fingers reached out to trace one such mark going over his heart, making him shiver. You glanced up at his face to check if he was alright.

Giyuu seemed to be in a trance, staring at your exposed chest. The sight made you blush as you finally realized the situation you were in.

“Can I touch you?” he asked roughly, his voice raspy.

“I- okay…” you assented in confusion.

Once he’d gained permission he nearly attacked your chest with a hunger previously unknown to you. His hands cupped your breasts and his hot tongue laved at the skin, quickly getting to one of your nipples to circle the areola. His lips closed around it, sucking it harshly, making you cry out in pain. 

“Stop!”

As if burned, Giyuu pulled back, saliva connecting your nipple and his glistening lips, a teary eyed expression on his face.

The sight hurt your heart, and you sighed, giving up. “Just be gentle, okay?”

He nodded and licked your nipple much more gently, staring you in the eyes the whole time, gauging your face for any discomfort.

There was none, the texture of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You breathed out shakily, closing your eyes as you arched your back slightly, offering him more, urging him to continue.

Giyuu hummed against your flesh, making you shiver, his thumb stroking the unattended nipple softly. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his pajama pants tightly, the slight shift of the fabric giving him enough stimulation to moan. It reminded you that there was something more stiff than your nipples.

Your hand trailed up, cupping his hardness. He bucked his hips, moaning into your chest as you started to pump his shaft through the pants, wetness gathering at the tip.

Giyuu cursed under his breath, switching to the other nipple to give them equal attention with his gentle sucking, whining when you squeezed the tip of his cock a little, his teeth grazing your breast.

You very nearly whimpered when he did that. In retaliation the hand stroking his cock grabbed the hem of his pants instead, your other hand reaching inside to stroke his length unobscured. 

Giyuu had to pull back from your breast lest he bite down as he groaned through his teeth, resting his forehead on your collarbone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin while his thumbs continued to play with your nipples. He could hardly resist leaning more into you, rising to his knees and burying his head in your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing all over you as your head fell back, giving him more access. 

He laved at your skin, kissing it, sucking on it, creating deep hickeys as he pleased, the sensation drawing low whines and moans from your throat.

Then, he bit down on your pulse point gently.

Your hold on his cock tightened, the next stroke rougher than before.

“Don-Don’t! I’m about to-!” You quickly let go. He groaned loudly, as if in pain when your hand retreated from his pants. “Please, I need-!”

Your face felt hot, his desperate state made you so turned on you didn’t know what to do with yourself, except squeeze your thighs together. “What do you need, Giyuu?”

He felt as if he wanted, no, needed to eat you up, as if you were prey and him a predator - as it should have been before demons turned into glorified pets. 

But the feeling was too other to be just hunger; it was also thirst, for the sweet sounds you made when he marked you up, for an even sweeter sound you would make when he bit you and claimed you as his own.

“T-turn over, owner. I need you,” he told you breathlessly, his voice gaining a raspier quality as he pawed at your hips, claws retracted. You’d told him you would help him, didn’t you? Well, he was asking for that help now.

The panties you wore were soaked, and you knew what exactly he wanted you to do. You knelt in front of him and took the panties off, obeying his request and turning around to offer yourself to him on your hands and knees.

There was the sound of fabric being ripped apart before his hand grabbed your ass, thumb digging in as he pulled your flesh back just enough to expose your pussy. “I’m sorry, I just- I just need you.”

Giyuu slid the tip of his cock between your pussy lips, gathering your juices and spreading his precum all over, before he finally started to push in. He let out a shaky, drawn out moan. 

The stretch burned slightly, and you could do nothing but grip the sheets under your hands and push back against him, wanting more. 

“Sh-shit-” He bottomed out, his length pushing against something that made your arms give out and you fell forward, your forearms now supporting your weight.

“Can’t help myself-” he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, a whine leaving his throat at the feeling. His hands held your hips in a bruising grip. 

Then, he set a rough and fast pace. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, like you were his fucktoy, his thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy - disharmonic, desperate. 

You clenched your eyes shut as fireworks sparked behind your eyelids as the heat built up between the two of you. Giyuu was near-painfully thick and long. Even inexperienced, his dick hit all the right places, drawing breathy moans past your lips quietly. 

He himself became non-verbal, panting and keening lowly as he tried to chase his ecstasy. He leaned forward, his right arm supporting his weight just over your shoulder, left hand snaking around to stroke your puffy clit in tight circles, completely out of rhythm with his thrusts. His lips placed open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, nibbling on the flesh and sucking hickeys, staking his claim as the knot in your belly tightened.

Then, near the height of your pleasure, you felt a pinch at the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

As if triggered, your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, making you quiver in Giyuu's tight embrace, even as he still rocked his hips against yours in frantic tight circles, keening against the bite in your shoulder. Each thrust inside sent another wave of pleasure, until you did not know when one ended and another began. You could hardly form a thought, only sounds you vaguely recognized as yours left your throat.

Warmth spilled inside of you after an erratic series of rough thrusts, his arms hugging you tightly, putting his whole weight on you.

The slight pain in your shoulder faded as Giyuu pulled back to lick the bite gently. His half-lidded eyes stared as his saliva closed the punctures, slightly discolored flesh covering the mating bite mark.

Your eyes felt heavy and you were tired, but his cock was still hard even after finishing…

"Can- can I-?" 

You closed your eyes. "Mhm, if it'll make you feel better…"

His arms let up a little, laying his forehead between your shoulder blades. "You're tired…" 

There was no use denying it. "Yes. But, doesn't it hurt?" You rolled your hips experimentally; his hands gripped your body tighter as if to stop you.

"We can stay like this… I don't mind," he said, his cock twitching. Giyuu rolled you both onto your sides, staying inside. The movement made your inner muscles spasm and he bucked his hips. "Fuck… perhaps, only a little…" 

In contrast to his pace before, he rocked into you gently and slowly, letting you feel every inch without overwhelming you.

"This okay?" he asked in a strained voice. You only hummed in response, enjoying the intimacy.

Giyuu spilled his seed twice more into you as you half-dozed in his warm embrace, letting out a high pitched whine once in a while at the overstimulation, yet he could not stop - not until you were overfilled and it was seeping out around his dick.

You must have drifted off at some point, the next thing you remembered was Giyuu kissing your shoulder gently, muttering, “Mhm, good morning… or evening.” 

You sighed out, relaxing in the warmth of his embrace. “How you feelin’?”

“Perfectly fine, or at least a little better,” he whispered, nuzzling into you.

You were sore, and the stickiness of dried sweat and cum on you started to bother you quickly. You wanted a shower. 

You tapped his arm with your finger and made to move away from him.

“No, no, don’t move yet,” his voice was strained as his cock twitched inside of you. “I won’t be able to control myself-”

You smiled tiredly and arched your back a bit, pushing your ass against him.

“Ye-es, fuck-” His hips rutted forward, muttering “Yes, yes, yes-” like a mantra, his arms tightening around you as he chased his pleasure inside of you yet again, his and your cum from before enough lubrication for what he did.

Your muscles were sore but you let him do as he pleased, his moans and heavy breathing making you feel hot all over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish but you didn’t mind, his noises bringing you a delight of its own.

Your hand came up to caress his arms gently as he fucked you, a whine leaving his throat at the tender touch, the next few thrusts sloppier and more forceful before he slammed as deep as he could with a shaky groan. Heat filled you again as he came.

You smiled widely as he panted, pulling out and making his seed spill over your thighs.

His hold became looser as he pressed soft kisses on your back and shoulders. “Sorry…”

You hummed, “There is no need to apologize. I could use a shower though, you coming with me?”

“Yes.” Giyuu opened his arms as you stood up. You were grateful your floors weren’t covered by a carpet, so any splatters his semen would make could be mopped up. 

After a long hot shower, where he made sure to knead your muscles and wash your back for you gently, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, your tummy rumbling with hunger.

Perhaps Giyuu needed some meat too? 

It was nearly two months later when you could attend another DR meetup (15th, you missed one during that time due to a deadline you nearly forgot). You’d kept in contact with Tanjiro, quickly becoming close friends as he complained about managing Muzan and you about ‘adulting’. 

You didn’t reveal the fact that you started sleeping with Giyuu. After that first night, it seemed as if a dam had broken, and he became clingy and needy for you nearly every chance he got, going as far as distracting you during work with neck kisses and warming your pussy with his cock. 

It was not all about the sex either, he started going with you when you went out to shop for groceries, no matter the time of the day, keeping close to you like a dark protector and glaring at anyone who dared to look at you wrong.

You thought it was strange but let it be. He wasn’t harming anyone so it was probably fine.

“If it isn’t [Name]!” Tanjiro greeted you with a hug, earning him a low hiss from Giyuu. Tanjiro offered him a handshake, which Giyuu took, but you could see the amount of effort he had to spend to not crush Tanjiro’s hand, making you laugh a little. It was cute how protective he was of you.

Muzan was arguing with Douma, the pale blond demon from last time, a few steps away from the Kamado family, while Nezuko tried to drag him back to the organizers. Douma was smiling as his own owner - a ginger-haired woman - hugged him from behind to pull him away. 

You spent a small while talking to each of the Kamado siblings, asking about school and such, when Muzan joined your little group.

He took one look at you and scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe you mated with that loser.”

Everything stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”

He rolled his gleaming red eyes in annoyance. “Are you stupid? Your loser of a demon, you mated with him.” Muzan shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at you down his nose.

You could only blink a few times, slowly turning to Giyuu.

“I- what?”

Giyuu had an innocently impassive look on his face, as if nothing was wrong. You could see, however, with your trained eye that there was a bright blush adorning his ears and a drop of sweat disappearing under his collar. He remained silent.

AN: I want to credit the idea for Muzan as a bratty demon of the Kamado family to @sunandflame because she was the first one who came up with it, among other ideas we brainstormed while talking about this at first.

I'm a bitch so there will be part 2 in the far future when I get the horny for it.

dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear (I love you, Rhy)

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗

I've done a version of this with Mindy

Warnings: nudity, teasing

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’

‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.

‘’I can’t use blue.’’

‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’

‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’

Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.

‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’

‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’

Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’

You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?

‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.

A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’

Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’

He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.

Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.

You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.

‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.

‘’Let’s take a break.’’

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.

You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…

‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.

Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.

Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.

‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.

You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.

He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’’ 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz

[tiyoin]

nsfw thought!

jade x gn reader! smut!

cw: over stim, safe signal *reader clenching and in clenching their fists 4 x*, jade being… sketch per usual, after care 😮‍💨

jade kneeled down next you, who’s laying star fished on the bed, your limbs were tied securely. a ‘bzzzz’ rang through our a room like cicadas in the summer time.

jade was crouching next to the bed with a sadistic toothy smile watching you squirm and cry in over stimulation. eyes almost bugling from your sockets, ‘please turn it off!’ i can’t handle it anymore!’ ‘it hurts!’, they screamed as the wand continued vibrating in your sore genital.

“you can do one more for me, can’t you?” he asked the questioned like one would please a child to finish their plate of broccoli. calm, welcoming, patient.

yet the rapid jack hammering of the vibrator smashed any and all illusions of jade’s persona. shaking your head furiously as shrieks of pained pleasure got muted behind the gag.

“what’s that dear? i don’t think i can hear you” he frown sympathetically “you’ll have to speak up”

with a click of the button the buzzing noise intensified. your back arching and your eyes screwing shut as you silently suffered another orgasm. jade chuckled at the thought of him expelling demons from you like a priest would do to the possessed in an exorcism.

a few more seconds pass as cum drips in heated stringy glops from under the vibrator. jade hummed a little tune as he collected the rest before it dripped onto the bed and joined the crusty puddle of sweat tears and cum that was accumulating under you.

yours groans turned to moans the more he traced around your over sensitive privates with the wand, your lower body shaking erratically as you clenched and unclenched your hands 4 times.

with a long press, the white and blue wand turned off with a final buzz.

tossing it aside he beelined for the gag that was around your mouth, making quick practiced work of untying it.

huffing and puffing, you gulped air down greedier than a panicked scuba diver as jade began working in the restrains.

“just as promised my pearl” he wiped the fly-away’s and frizzes from your soaked forehead, you moaned uncomfortably when he kissed your cheek. “you did fantastic my love, i will be right back”

laying in the after glow after borderline sexual torture- if putting a ‘merlin’s wand’ - aka the number 1 rated vibrating wand on your sensitive privates wasn’t enough, jade leech, patient as a saint toyed with you for 3. hours.

3 hours of nonstop buzzing, circling, teasing, cumming.

you couldn’t move if you wanted to. fading in and out of consciousness, you felt cold hands slip under you, picked up from the bed princess style, you whined. turning in your boyfriends arm’s as you were nuzzled into his cooling chest. bouncing with his laughter, he entered the dark bathroom without another sound besides from that of water filling a tub.

stepping in, he sat down and adjusted you so you weee laying on his stomach.

wax candles glew in ceremony around the relaxing tub. water temperature just how you like it, and boyfriend just where he needs to be… despite him taking away any privileges of movement.

hinge settled, he leaned in close to your ear with a smirk, “so what did we learn today love?” your body shivered, and with a gulp and a few more pets, you answered.

“don’t blue ball you” you cringed at your destroyed voice

his hand stopped on your head, slender fingers slid down your temple, cheek and jaw before he gripped your jaw and tilted your head. (e/c) clashed with steel silver as electric yellow peeked at you from his long strand of ebony hair.

“that’s right.” he smiled cheerily “or else i’ll have to give you a far worse punishment than this” he whispered before kissing you.

jade always made good on his promises of revenge... but regardless of wanting to make the you pay, he stilled listened to signals, knowing when enough was enough and when he was getting carried away.

only for you though. just you.

he kinda likes having you around and would rather not scare you away.such is the fragility of human mates 🤷🏻

everyone else tho? no mercy.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hello! hope ur doing well! love ur writing and excited for the blurb weekend!! was wondering if i could request number 2 and 8 from the pining list with steve harrington? love the way you write him always!! thank you!!!

“doing something nice for the other impulsively,” and “getting flustered when the other is nice to them.”

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Everyone knew about your crush on Steve. Everyone— well, apart from the boy himself. You weren’t sure how you could possibly hide it, your eyes wide and cheeks hot everytime he was near, words caught in your throat when he spoke to you and god, it took too long for you to be able to settle in his presence.

Which is why you’d taken to sticking to Robin’s side when he invited everyone around to his pool, the summer too hot and too sticky for doing much else. The Indiana heat was borderline cruel that year, endless blue skies pretty and relentless, no clouds for the sun to hide behind.

So everyone piled in to the Harrington’s backyard, swimsuits already on under shorts and baggy shirts, sliders and jelly shoes kicked to the side as everyone stripped at the sight of cool, blue water. Eddie had a radio playing, a somewhat playful argument between him and Nancy ensuing as music choices were discussed and Jonathan took to the shade, pulling a book out of his bag, a vibrant yellow bucket hat that El had gifted him pulled low on his brow.

Then Steve had made his way around you all, shirtless and with a baseball cap shoved on his messy hair, backwards and sporting a hockey team you didn’t know much about. He was already so tanned, prettier than normal with more freckles and flushed cheeks. The sight of him made your breath hitch, shoulder squaring off as you watched him hand a beer to Eddie, another to Jonathan.

Beside you, Robin snorted, shaking her head and watching you from behind cherry coloured sunglasses. You’d set up camp with her on the other side of the pool, heads burning from the sun but your feet dipped in the water, both of you smelling like chlorine and sunscreen.

You frowned, already waiting on the teasing that naturally came. You played dumb regardless, staring at your feet in the water, your skin a shade of blue, the lines of your toes rippling. “What?” You already sounded so defensive.

“Nothing,” Robin snorted. But she pushed her shoulder into yours, sticky with heat and lotion. “Just wondering when you’ll be able to look at Steve without absolutely falling apart.”

Your scowl deepened along with your embarrassment. But you feigned ignorance and watched Nancy fish out her lemon water from her bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed.

Robin just hummed, grinning she stared across the yard. “Interesting.”

“Seriously, I do not fall—“

A shadow fell over both of you briefly before a broad shoulder brushed your own. Steve sat down next to you despite there being more room next to Robin, the heat from all his bare skin making you so, so aware of his proximity. You blinked, lips still parted from talking but the words had died off on your tongue. You felt the familiar creep of warmth along your chest, up your neck.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, his smile too kind, too pretty. “I brought you a drink.”

Instead of a cold can of beer, like he’d handed the boys, Steve offered you a glass. One of his mom’s fancy ones with the patterns along the side, a rosy pink tint to the liquid inside. It was filled with ice, fizzing and bubbling and it smelled like lemons and cherries. It even had a circle of the yellow citrus floating on top, summer in a cup.

It felt hard to talk when you took it from him, fingers brushing and you felt like a kid, like a teenager, a crush that was achingly awful, all consuming and gut wrenching.

He was so pretty and so close and—

“What’s that?” Robin peered over your shoulder, still grinning, looking particularly pleased with the situation she got to witness. “Where’s mine, dingus?”

The boy glared at his friend before he shrugged, all nonchalance and he gestured to you with cheeks more pink than your juice. “It’s just something I mixed up, alright? And you like beer, okay? You can grab a can, your legs work.”

You weren’t sure what made your heart beat faster, the fact that Steve had remembered you didn’t like beer or that he’d went out of his way to make you a drink that was more than a glass of soda.

Robin scoffed but she moved regardless, water dripping on your knees as she got up and walked around the pool, glaring at Steve as she went. “I see how it is,” she told him. “S’real cute, Steven. You could be more subtle next time.”

You were burning, you were sure of it. And Steve seemed to feel the same because he was red now, the tips of his ears scarlet and he flipped Robin off before she disappeared into the kitchen.

And then you realised you were alone with the boy. Something that didn’t happen often, something that you usually tried hard to avoid because you were floundering, both hands clasping the freezing cold glass and god, god— you were so aware that your body was mostly bare, your swimsuit green and suddenly too tight.

Steve’s naked chest was alarmingly close, moles and freckles dotted across sunkissed skin and with a smattering of hair, his arms corded with muscle you hadn’t really seen before, brushing up against yours as he glanced over at you.

He looked shy. Was Steve shy? Was that possible?

You realised you were staring a second too late, eyes flickering back to the pool and you tried not to cringe, or do something stupid, like tumble into the pool and float to the bottom.

So you slipped the straw Steve had placed in your cup between your lips, taking a sip. Bubbles touched your tongue, lemon and cherry and sweetness and tart filling your mouth. You hummed, taking another long drag and you could feel the boy smiling.

“D’you like it?”

You nodded, barely able to lift your head to meet Steve’s gaze but when you did, you were so glad of it. He was beaming, looking too pleased as you took another sip and his knee was bumping against yours, his hand on the pool edge and close to your thigh.

“It’s delicious,” you managed. “You didn’t have to though, I could’ve had some water or—“

Steve waved away your words, nose wrinkled and he tutted. “Nah, what? S’no big deal.”

It was. It was a big deal.

It felt momentous, actually.

“Did you make more?” You dared to ask, feeling brave with the sun in your eyes and Steve’s leg against your own. The water didn’t feel so cold anymore. “For everyone else?”

Steve couldn’t hide his smile then, lips pressed together and eyes crinkling as he shook his head, looking guilty and handsome for it. “No, just you.” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Don’t tell the rest of them, but, I like you the most.”

You felt hotter than the sun.

[lovexdeepspace]

All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?

Thank you very much and hope all is well.

“made with love.”

summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.

warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3

note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!

( to be formatted in the future )

a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.

rafayel…

… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.

“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”

you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.

“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”

after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”

cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.

“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”

“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”

your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.

you look like a dork.

he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:

i think i look amazing

xavier…

… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?

the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.

it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.

“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”

xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”

“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”

you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”

xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”

zayne…

… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.

then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.

“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”

“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”

you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”

“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”

you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”

you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.

“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”

[naffeclipse]

Sand and Sea

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have the pleasure of being commissioned by @missdreamyhead to write a fluffy and sweet fic for @tubbyartz's birthday! Happy birthday! I hope you have a lovely day! Enjoy a little slice of Orca!Eclipse and the reader in a tropical setting and spending time together in the water! <3

———

Eclipse meant what he said: he would hunt you down to the ends of the earth. There is nowhere you can go where he can’t find you, reach you and draw you back into the water into his sea salt embrace. 

You find yourself rather content with such an arrangement. Leaving the Arctic wasn’t easy, not with how long you knew he would have to wait to find you again, but you sit on a warm, white sand beach. The ocean softly laps up against the land, eager to touch your toes and drench your ankles. 

Where is he? Eclipse is not one to keep you waiting or to stay away from you. He couldn’t hardly keep his hands off of you when he did rediscover you again standing waist-deep in the shallows and eagerly snatching you up to admire you once more. It had only been a few weeks, but he greedily devoured you with his eyes as if he were a man who had been shipwrecked without food for days.

You hum and tap on your journal. There are a few interesting species growing on this island, especially of the fungal kind. You’ve kept yourself busy searching for mushrooms along the decaying wood. The rich moisture and the fallen trees lend to a beautiful crop of fairy inkcap mushrooms and oyster mushrooms. 

Beyond the edges of your journal, the waves splash and toss further from the island, overturning softly with white crests and deep, aquamarine hues. The air is blissfully warm as it heats your skin. The sun shines brightly upon the pale grains of sand. You wiggle your feet a little deeper into the beach just to feel the ground shift and heat the top of your feet. 

You couldn’t have gone farther from the frozen Arctic tundra if you tried. Eclipse doesn’t seem to care that these waters are not of his home—so long as he has you close by. 

You feared for a time that these warm waters would be uncomfortable for him, so unlike the icy, gray wafts of his cold homeland. He reportedly told you that he is none too affected by the change save for getting used to the prey that he must snatch up around the shores of the island. The fish are not as tasty as seals, but he says it means little to him now that he has you.

You catch a sharp red dorsal fin cutting through the surface. You straighten where you sit on the beach, your heart picking up softly at the familiar sight. The water is crystalline and blue, giving way to a sharp shape of black and white and red just below the rippling surface. 

There he is.

Setting your journal aside before it can get wet, you patiently brace for Eclipse to get your attention. You don’t have to wait for his head to rear. Framed in sharp, pointed frills, bleeding burnt orange and deep red hues like a darkening sunset, his face rises above the water with heavy trickles dropping back into the ocean. His black and white crescent mark face splits into a grin. Razor-sharp teeth flash in sheer delight. 

He stops his shark-like approach, almost beached in the shallows. His tail waves slowly side to side and stirs up sand, clouding the space where he lies in anticipation. Resting on his elbows, his sleek and dangerous frame half submerged and revealing his beautiful, shiny pattern of black and white, Eclipse slowly lifts a hand. Arching a black-bone clawed finger, he grins.

“Come closer, mushroom,” he rumbles low, sweet and abysmal. He beckons with his fingers. “I want to see you.”

You lift your chin, a mischievous streak painting you with playful intent. You grin. Eclipse is already on guard, his wide eyes drilling into you with the intensity of twin suns, one yellow, and one red. 

“But it’s so nice on the beach.” You reach down and pat the sand beside you. The heat of the sun warms it underneath your palm. “Won’t you join me?”

His grin turns harsher, askew. He lowers his hand but you watch it drag just underneath the water, cutting into sand and leaving ribbons in his wake. 

“You will be so much warmer in my arms.” As if to emphasize this, he opens them to welcome you into his embrace. His claws curly slightly with a greedy need. “Come closer, my fairy.”

“I didn’t hear a please,” you answer, batting your eyelashes sweetly. “Besides, the sun is so warm already! If you joined me, you could find out for yourself.”

He will beach himself. You know he will, but he wants you in the water today. You see it in how his tail curls, almost as if to slap the surface with his frustrations but the game is still going. It’s his turn now.

Eclipse is no less spirited when he snaps his jaws. “Please, mushroom. I won’t beg again. Come closer. Let me hold you. Let me have you entirely.” 

You brush your hair back over your shoulder. Fixing your red hat, mushroom in shape and dotted with small white specks, you slowly get to your feet. You stand, pushing Eclipse’s patience as you regard the water and then him with a mirthful smile.

“Come closer to me. Meet me halfway,” you press, flippant and challenging, all at once.

The orca siren snarls low, yet he never loses the glimmer in his gaze as he pushes himself up the shore. You balk internally, catch off guard at how quickly he beaches himself, his tail almost entirely out of the water as he regards you with a hunger bordering on something savage. 

“I am here.” He presses a wet hand into the hand, pushing himself into a looming, threatening shadow over the sand. His one claws curl. Your insides bubble at his intensity. “Come. Closer. You only need to take a few steps to be mine.”

Softly, you take a step forward. His eyes flash to your toes curling in the sand and you hold your stance again. A growl rumbles through his chest. You shouldn’t enjoy this so much. He could have sang and already had you in his clutches, but he enjoys your feisty dares as much as you do. Holding yourself strong, you return his gaze unblinkingly. 

“You have to be nice, or else I’ll swim far away.” You bite back a note of laughter.

Eclipse, however, does not. His pulsing chortle echoes, almost rippling over the waves in melodic amusement.

“Even in your siren form, you aren’t fast enough to escape from me.” He holds out a hand. The slickness of his palm, just inches away from snatching the edges of your pale dress. “But I will be good to you. I always am.”

You muse for a moment, and his gaze narrows in the slightest. You’ve reached the end of his rope.

“Be good, my little fairy.” His black bone claws turn underneath the sunlight, glinting wickedly, and you almost choke at how beautiful and terrible they are. “Come closer.”

You have resisted him for long enough. Teasingly, you walk slowly, stretching your stride and sinking into the sand. Eclipse shimmers slightly, almost drying out underneath the baking sun. His tail and fins shift anxiously as if he intends to pounce upon you. Once you move within reach, you can hardly blink before he captures your wrist and gently pulls you down with him.

You laugh once as he quickly covers you in his shadow. He’s been waiting far too long, you imagine. Your knees are propped on otherside of him as he bears down upon you, nearly pinning you underneath his weight before studying you slowly. His looming form provides a gentle reprieve from the harsh sunlight. 

“You need to be good,” he reminds you. A deep rumble vibrates the very air and touches you. You gasp softly underneath him. A claw carefully brushes away a thick, dark brown lock of hair from your face. “I must always have you within reach.”

“You always grab me when you do,” you counter with a pointed look, but a smile traces your lips.

“I want to see you.” He lowers himself until he’s almost laying on top of you. His sleek body gleams and a few drops of water fall from the end of his head frills and onto the sand around you. “All of you. I want to feel how soft and sweet you are.”

Internally, you begin to melt. A softness washes over you, taking you underneath his gentle touch. The orca siren draws his fingertips carefully along your cheekbone, carefully memorizing the shape of your face. His slick touch leaves a residue of sea salt and water behind. It cools your skin gently. He parts his mouth and swipes his tongue over his rows of teeth. Your eyes follow the movement, captivated. He chortles.

“You want to see me as well,” he purrs. “You must have me close. You always want me here with you. Say it.”

You resist for a moment, a teasing retort somewhere in the back of your throat, but he takes hold of your chin and you are lost in his burning eyes. He is too stunning, too overwhelming. Your body is hot and molten. 

Softly, you echo his words. “I do. I want you close to me.” You blush as you keep speaking, unable to resist the red surge in your cheeks. “I want you here with me. Always.”

“Good, my little fairy,” he drawls, and his grin widens with delight, “Come here. Swim with me in the water again.”

He gently tugs you further and further off the sand. You let him, carefully cradled in the strength of his arms, small and tiny in his embrace. You hide your face briefly in the crook of his shoulder. The scent of sea salt and a harsh musk like rime fills your nostrils, and you breathe easier. 

The first touch of the water against your skin sends a shiver up your spine. Quickly, your body adjusts to the warm, soothing temperature of the water. The sand stirs, filling the shallows as Eclipse manages to flip his tail and bring you with him as the slope of land underneath your body falls lower, and lower still. 

“Eclipse?” you ask softly. You touch his hands, holding them tighter to you as he begins swimming from the safety of shore. He easily keeps you above the lapping waves trying to drench your head and mushroom hat. 

“I won’t allow you to sink,” the orca siren rumbles as sweetly as the lowest cords of bass in a song. Held to his chest, the water splashing your sides, you believe him. There is no place safer than within his arms. “I have missed your beautiful tail and how silky your hair becomes in the water. Let me see you like that again.”

He stops well within sight of the island. You turn within his embrace. His large hands rest on your waist and keep you afloat. A gentle shudder falls over you with the encouraging brush of his finger along your spine, pressing the fabric of your soaked dress against your skin. 

“You swam with me yesterday.” You meant to answer with more resolve, more of a teasing bite, but it leaves your lips softly, as if reminiscing on how far he swam with you, the great reefs he helped you explore and then the sandy shore you both laid upon as you explained to him the nature of fungi and how beautifully and diverse they grow.

“I did. I want to see you again.” His gaze softens. His pelvic fins softly sway to keep him steady against the ever nudging presence of the tide. You watch his tail for a moment, breathless. His black and white colors strike out against the blues and his red and orange tipped flukes cut through the depths with ease. 

His hand, slick and salty, cups your cheek. You fall softly into his embrace. Gently, you cup his much larger digits closer against your face. 

“My little fairy. Swim with me,” he murmurs, raspy and yearning. 

His voice lowers to a gentle hum as he presses you closer against him still. Your legs slide against his sleek flesh and your breath rattles out of your throat, overwhelmed by his closeness. How much he hungers for you. You close your eyes and nod gently.

“Alright,” you chuckle, “Just this once.”

But you’ve said that before.

Eclipse clicks a joyful series of sounds. His jaws clap as his hand cups the back of your head. Claws entangled with your long, brown locks. A smile tugs on the corner of your mouth as he closes the distance. 

In the sea, the orca siren dips you low into a kiss, pulling you underneath the surface with a soft swirl of bubbles. The great eruption of magic and power flows into you, set free by his lips and gently pressed into your body, stirring up your marrow and lying over your skin. It is energy and love; it is the will of a siren who has claimed you as his mate.

He gently eases you back. You float softly in the water, but when your lips part, free of his magic and air, you freely intake water. Oxygen flows through you, keeping you buoyant and uncensored as any other fish who swim these crystal clear tides. 

A sweet hum ripples through the water and washes over you. Eclipse eyes roam you freely, hungrily. Softly, you open your arms and look down at yourself, your dress still hanging wet and secure against your body but your legs are no more. Instead, a slender, flowing tail flicks through the sea. You’ve grown used to the waving motion of fins, flipping back and forth—though Eclipse often saves you from such effort by carrying you where you would like to go. 

Long tendrils flow from your mushroom hat. Your senses awaken to the new appendages as they surround you like the tentacles of a jellyfish and your cap acting as the bell. Your hair flows freely through the water, softly twisting and waving. You gently push up your hat to gaze adoringly at Eclipse.

His hands find your waist and gradually slide down. His palms are large, almost squeezing you with his adoration before he brushes a hand softly over a red flowing fin, dotting in white not unlike your mushroom cap. 

His eyes glimmer. A tenderness fills his frame while softly, he admires your stunning new form. It is thanks to him you can even experience the sea in such a way. You wonder if your red tail stands out too much or if the vivid yellow tendrils falling down from your cap are too strange to a siren, but Eclipse easily brushes those aside to meet you underneath the water. His mouth parts and a few bubbles escape. His lips mouth words of sweet nothing. 

You blush fiercely when he takes your face gently in his hands. You breathe softly as he draws nearer. His claw carefully traces the shell of your ear, following the sharp point and admiring it as if it were sea glass or a treasured seashell. How he looks at you, how he holds you spills over with cherishment that sets your heart aflame. It is a miracle the water around you doesn’t bubble and fizz when he at last pushes aside the last of the ocean separating you and captures your mouth sweetly in a kiss.

The gentle pressure of his presence trickles into you, filling you like an empty well given fresh rain. You trace his arms. Underneath your touch, you marvel at the lithe cords of muscle tucked underneath his sleek, shiny skin. His claws wickedly trace the corners of your jawbone until you let out a soft, sweet sound of awe. 

He parts from you gently and grins like a shark with the prey already between his teeth.

Gently, he turns and tugs on your hand. You follow with a flick of your tail, your soft, translucent fins seemingly more for beauty than any speed or agility akin to an orca siren. 

Eclipse told you when he first changed you with his siren song that you are perfect. Though you don’t have his teeth and talons, he promises to protect and provide for you. You always thought he was far too eager to serve, to give you everything, but his love has always been like a floodtide, washing you out to sea with the force of it.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

His flukes flick carefully, minding how you fit along his side. Even in a siren form, you are tiny in comparison to his natural streamline body and cutting-edge fins. You don’t mind. Eclipse has tried to feed you fish time and time again and you refused, opting to wait until you had your human legs back to find food and feast. 

Towards the back end of the island, the trees grow too dense and the ground too muddy and slick to traverse well, but through the water, you arrive without an ounce of difficulty. 

Eclipse gently takes you by the arms, guiding you forward while he swims you faster than you could have hoped. A beautiful reef teams with life, bursting with colors in dozens of corals and darting with tiny fish and creatures who propel and jump and dash through the aquamarine and sunshine dazzling the ground.

You marvel. Your hand softly flies to your mouth as you gaze at the vision. Gently, you reach for Eclipse’s hand. He slows enough for you to push your mushroom cap up, peeking out from underneath, and beam at him with all your might. 

Eclipse chortles. He doesn’t speak in the water but he doesn’t have to. You show him how pleased you are, and softly, while twirling one of your yellow tendrils gently around his finger, Eclipse glides with you over the reef to admire the beautiful wildlife.

[missterious-figure]

Part 1

(Just a little scenario I thought up. This takes place a little after y/n first gets Sun and Moon)

"Ring-a-ring!"

You groaned as you heard your phone vibrate with each blaring sound. What in your right mind were you thinking when you made this your ringtone? You opened one eye, looking to the window to gage the time. There was no light streaming through the curtains, so you could tell it was still dark outside. Lazily sitting up, you slapped at the dresser next to your bed a few times, catching nothing but an empty palm, before your hand landed on your phone. Just as you did, the ringing fell silent.

Giving a sleepy yawn, you used your thumb to tap the screen, and it turned on. You weren't prepared for the sudden flash of light in your eyes and, with a startled growl, you almost dropped your phone onto your lap. Squinting through the glaring light, you swipped down the brightness level. Good, now you could actually see. You pressed the missed calls icon on your phone. Who was calling so early in the morning? You froze at the number. Your dad.

You immediately put your phone back on the dresser and tucked yourself back into bed. You didn't have the energy to deal with him right now. He and your mom had always been so controlling, and were probably only calling to try to guilt trip you into abandoning your fish store and coming home to work at the family business. This business was a restaurant, and a shabby one at that. And they would probably try to pawn you off as a spouse to one of their friends' kids as well. You hated that they had literally already been thinking of ideas for your wedding when you were like, what, ten?

Anyway, enough about that. You didn't want to think about them anymore. Just knowing they were trying to contact you again made you tired. You conked out only a few minutes later, eager to let sleep take you back.

***

Later that morning, after you had gotten ready and eaten, you went down stairs to the floor bellow your home. Your fish shop. A while back, you had bought a cheap two story building that had been for sale on a small shopping district in town. Sure, there wasn't much space inside either floor, but you could make it work. You lived om the top floor and set up your store on the bottom one.

Rows of small to medium sized fish tanks lined the walls. There was a long island in the middle of the floor, and it also had its own row of tanks. A few bar lights hung from the ceiling, ready to be turned on. Your shop brightened up and you grabbed a few different shakers of fish food from behind the checkout counter near the front of the store. This was almost your favorite part of the day. Feeding the fish. You made sure to give the right type of food to the right type of fish. You just loved to see how excited they would get as you walked to each tank.

Soon your little task was done. It was almost time to open. You needed to do one last thing: check on the "fish" outside. You walked to the back of the store and out a door to your backyard. Three large ponds resided at the right side of your yard, a shed and a few potted plants taking up the left side. A tall wooden fence bordered it all the way around. Large bushes poked up from outside the fence.

A loud splash caught your attention. From the pond closest to you, two familiar eyes peeked out. You ran to the ponds edge and kneeled down. The eyes had disappeared. You peered into the water, excitedly calling out,

"Come on, Sunny! I know you're in there!"

As you finished your sentence, a large creature popped out of the water. It's yellow top half resembled a human with a circular face, pointed teeth and sharp claws. Instead of hair, it had seven white rays adorning it's face and orange, veil-like fins that flopped all the way to it's back. It also flopped over it's face. Even stranger, it had a white and blue fish tail starting from it's hips down.

"Sunny! There you are, boy!"

You giggled as the creature chattered, confused, as he looked in vain to find you. Reaching a hand out, you gently swept his fins up and out of his face. He squeaked excitedly, now that he finally could see you. He pulls his chest out of the water and onto the edge of the pond next to you, folding his arms underneath him as support. Moving into a sitting position, you cup his round face in you hands. In a friendly response, he purrs and leans into you soft touch.

"Hey, Sunny! Couldn't wait to see ya! You like getting pets, right buddy?"

He nudges your hands with his cheeks, as if asking for cheek rubs. Which, of course, you generously give. This is your favorite part of the day. Even though you haven't known him long, it feels like he is your very best friend. He seems to understand you, and even tries to comfort you when he notices you look sad. He warbles and gurgles at you, and you like to believe, personally, he's trying to really talk to you. He has even sung to you a handful of times. He always tries to do things specifically to make you smile and you know it. Nobody has ever been this kind to you. Not like Sun.

Sun suddenly jerked away from your hands, interrupting your thoughts. You pulled them back towards your chest, startled by Sun's odd behavior. He's looking towards the fence, a low growling emitting from his throat. You hope maybe he just heard a raccoon or stray cat. You nervously ask, as if you would get an answer,

"What is it, Sunny?"

Of course, there's no response as he keeps growling, eyes lazer-focused on the direction of whatever he heard.

Link to part 2 below!

[janitorhutcherson]

finnick odair who was never in the games but instead is your average man who lives in a coastal city in california. he’s rough around the edges still, gruff, sarcastic, and cocky, but he is happy and free. he’s more soft spoken and his guard is let down more, but only around specific people. mostly only around you.

finnick odair who owns a fishing company called ‘odair fisheries.’ he spends most of his time out on a little sailboat he’s made up. he’ll spend hours out in the ocean, just him, a cooler, and his fishing rod. his golden tan skin is sunburnt in some areas from long exposure and lack of sunscreen, something you’d gotten onto him about ten times too many. his body is covered in little tattoos of seashells, sea turtles, boat anchors, small outlines of fish. a seashell necklace sits around his neck, homemade from your delicate and loving hands.

finnick odair who’d practically BEG for you to come fishing with him. you weren’t the biggest fan. something about sitting out in the searing heat all day on a rocking surface didn’t seem all that appealing to you, but when finnick would look at you with his big blue puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out, you couldn’t resist. if you were determined to deny his suggestions, he’d go even further, throwing in a desperate, “please, sweetheart, you know i hate being without you as is.” as always, you’d give in, not particularly loving the sweat dripping off of your forehead but loving admiring your partner in front of you. you loved the way his face scrunched up in focus as he cast the line, his eyes perched on a particular spot. you loved the way his muscles tensed as he reeled the line in, or the way he huddled over you when attempting to teach you how to fish for the hundredth time (once again unsuccessful, though you know he’d try again tomorrow).

finnick odair who also taught children to fish as a part of his company. on weekend mornings, he’d have different classes that would last about 30 minutes. at the beginning, he’d take a group of kids out to a dock near his boat and he would teach the basics. by the end of the block of classes, he’d have even kids as little as 5 out fishing on his boat with him. he loved the kids like his own, growing attached to each and every one of them. you loved watching him teach, seeing how he’d sweetly hug the little boy gripping onto his leg back or how he’d soothe the crying little girl who fell and scraped your knee. he’d get you involved in helping to wrangle the kids, too, watching you intently as you’d braid a little girl’s hair for her or cradle one of the youngest ones on your hip. finnick wanted kids more than anything and he wanted them with you, his mind going crazy, desperate for a little family with you every time he saw you with children. it’s safe to say finnick’s baby fever is crazy.

finnick odair who spends rainy sunday mornings with nothing else to do playing guitar hero and other various video games. as rain would pelt down heavily on the roof of the house, the waves rocking the boat a little too much for him to even dare to attempt the seas (although he had in unsafe weather one too many times for your liking), you’d be awoken far too early in the morning to the smell of freshly baked muffins (from a box) and the sound of some rock song on the tv mixed with plastic clanking. you’d trudge into the living room, fuzzy blanket wrapped around your cold shoulders, and plop down onto the couch where a muffin already awaited you with some warm coffee on the side table. you couldn’t help but laugh as you nestled into your corner on the couch, turning yourself into a nest of blanket. finnick would be going crazy with the guitar strapped around his neck, resting at his somewhat bare torso. he’d be jamming out in his underwear, hair tussled, eyes still puffy with sleep. his nimble fingers would click through the red, blue, green, yellow pieces as his piercing blue eyes focused on the screen. you couldn’t help but fall more in love with him as you begin to doze back off in your corner.

finnick odair who loves intimacy. it was something that didn’t come easy to him. although things were much simpler for finnick odair in this life than in the hunger games, he still had his guard up. you’d taught him how to be intimate, how to love and to feel love, how to share his feelings with more than just ‘i love you.’ at night, he would spoon you to sleep, hand always resting on your stomach from behind, nuzzled up as close as he could get. if he was holding you the other direction, he’d hold you close into his chest, resting his nose in your hair, taking in your scent. “you are my entire ocean, the sea breeze that makes the waves move, the crystal blue water, all the way up to the glisten in the sea, sweet girl,” he’d mutter into your ear. even when you were fast asleep, he’d still whisper sweet nothings into your ear. when you’d take showers, he’d carefully sneak in and slip in behind you, almost always causing you to fall, but he’d be prepared and catch you. he’d then tenderly wash through your hair for you, pressing little kisses to your shoulders. finnick loved and adored you and he’d do anything possible to show that.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: whale shark

So I may have committed a cardinal sin last week because I didn't realize it was shark week and instead of a shark, I covered hagfish. This was clearly a terrible oversight and to make up for it, I'm going to talk about the biggest shark of all: the mighty whale shark.

(Image: a whale shark seen from the side. It is a very large shark with a flattened head and three ridges running down its side. The skin in grey and covered in white spots. Smaller sharks and remoras are swimming alongside it. End ID)

Whale sharks (Rhincodon typus) are carpet sharks, meaning they are members of the order Orectolobiformes. The carpet sharks most people are familiar with are the wobbegongs, who are ventrally flattened sharks they typically stick near the seafloor, but Orectolobiformes is a pretty diverse clade containing a large variety of sharks with diverse body plans. Whale sharks are the only living member of the family Rhinocodontidae, making them effectively cousins of the wobbegongs. While there is only one living species of whale shark, we know of another few in the fossil record and there were likely more extinct species and relatives that we don't know about. Because shark skeletons are made of cartilage, they rarely fossilize, leaving only their teeth as fossils. Whale sharks have very tiny teeth and smaller things are less likely to fossilize than large things. Add in that fossilization is very rare and it's very possible there were whale sharks and other similar things in the past we will never know about because they never fossilized.

(Image: a whale shark seen from the front. Its mouth is open, very wide, and apparently toothless. End ID)

Whale sharks are the largest living sharks and the largest living animals that aren't whales. Whale sharks can reach an average adult size of 14.5 meters (48 ft) and 18,600 kg (41,000 lbs), with males being larger. The largest whale shark on record was measured to be 18.8 m (62 ft). Whale sharks have broad, flattened heads and unlike most sharks, their mouths are on the front of the head instead of beneath the snout. The mouth can be over 2 meters across in an adult and is lined with approximately 300 rows of tiny teeth. These teeth are vestigial and do not play a role in feeding. Instead, the shark uses a structure at the back of the mouth composed of 20 fleshy pads that are coated with a thin mesh and held in place with connective tissue. More on feeding below. Whale sharks are grey in color, with white bellies and white spots covering the body. Each whale shark has a unique pattern of spots that scientists can use for identification. The spots will reappear in areas where damaged skin has healed instead of being scarred over. Whale sharks also have some regenerative ability, being able to recover from major wounds and possibly regrow sections of lost fin. Each side of the body has three long ridges that may help with streamlining.

(Image: a whale shark seen form the front with its mouth closed. There are remoras attached to its underbelly and a group of small yellow fish with black stripes swimming near the mouth, possibly acting as cleaner fish. End ID)

Whale shark skin can be up to 15 cm thick and is covered with tiny, tooth-like scales called dermal denticles. Having tiny teeth where bony fish have scales is normal for sharks. What is not normal is having them on your eyes, but the whale shark does anyway. Let me repeat: whale sharks have teeth on their eyeballs. I like body horror and I'm creeped out by that. The eyes can be retracted into the head and these two adaptations are believed to protect the eyes from predators and parasites. Another adaptations the eyes (which, again, HAVE TEETH ON THEM) have is a mutated version of rhodopsin, the pigment the rod sells of the yes use to see. this mutation makes the eyes good at seeing blue light, but the rhodopsin becomes unstable in warm temperatures. In humans, this mutation leads to a degenerative eye condition that can result in blindness. Whale sharks have a solution, though. When in warm, shallow water, the pigment can be turned off to keep the eyes from degenerating. When the shark dives to deep water, the pigment is reactivated, granting the shark better vision as blue light is the most common in the deep sea.

(Image: a close-up of a whale shark eye. It is a small, black, lidless eyeball surrounded by gray skin. End ID)

While whale sharks are huge, they aren't hunters. They are one of three living species of filter-feeding shark, the others being the basking shark (which I covered previously) and the awesomely-named megamouth shark. The majority of a whale shark's diet consists of plankton: primarily copepods, krill, eggs and larvae, and small fish, squid, and jellyfish. The shark can feed either by ram feeding (swimming forward with the mouth open) or creating suction to draw water into the mouth. The mouth is shaped like a funnel and forces water through the filtration pads. The pads, which likely evolved from gill rakers, capture food particles, which are then swallowed as the water is forced out through the gills. The filtration pads are extremely efficient and resistant to being clogged up with debris, though whale sharks have been observed performing a coughing-like behavior that is speculated to help clean the pads. Whale sharks spend up to 8 hours a day near the surface of the ocean, feeding on an estimated 2.7 kg (6 lbs) of plankton per hour.

(Image: an artistic diagram of the feeding pads and gills of a whale shark and how water flows through the mouth and out the gills. Source: EmilyDamstra.com. End ID)

Whale sharks live in temperate and tropical oceans worldwide and can be found in both the open ocean and coastal regions. They are gentle giants who swim slowly and bask at the surface of the ocean, not threatening anything bigger than a sardine. While they spend a lot of time at the surface, whale sharks periodically dive in search of food. Most of these dives are less than 200 meters (660 ft) deep, but they will occasionally dive over 500 m (1,600 ft) deep. The deepest recorded dive reached 1,928 m (6,325 ft), the deepest recorded dive of any fish. Whale sharks are known to practice different feeding behavior based on available food in their region. There are two subpopulations of whale shark based on location: the Atlantic and Indo-Pacific populations. 75% of the whale shark population lives in the Indo-Pacific. Whale sharks seasonally migrate following warm waters and food and may also migrate to mate. Multiple places around the world host seasonal gatherings of whale shark, making them to best place to reliably see them.

(Image: a whale shark from the side, swimming with its mouth open. Other fish can be seen in the background. End ID)

Not much is known about Whale shark mating. It has only been seen a few times in Saint Helena Island in the Atlantic and off the coast of Australia. Mating likely occurs during the seasonal aggregations. Female whale sharks are believed to travel to regional pupping grounds to give birth, but where exactly these are is an open question as juvenile whale sharks are rarely seen. The youngest whale shark ever observed was discovered having been captured and tied to a stake on a beach in Pilar, the Philippines. It was measured at 38 cm (15 in) and was released after being measured. This discovery likely means there is a pupping ground in the area. Whale sharks are ovoviviparous, meaning their eggs hatch internally and the young are born live. Whale shark females are believed to be able to reserve sperm and impregnate themselves repeatedly between matings, rather than bearing all their young at once. It is not clear how long it takes whale sharks to mature or how long they can live, though some estimates put them at sexually mature at around 25 years old and with a maximum lifespan between 50 and 150 years. It is estimated that only 10% of whale sharks live long enough to reach sexual maturity. Adult whale sharks have no natural predators.

(Image: a baby whale shark that was rescued from a gill net in India. It looks like a smaller version of the adult, but with a proportionately larger head. A human (out of frame) is holding it just above the water. ENd ID)

Whale sharks are classified as endangered by the IUCN. They are threatened by fishing, poaching, bycatch, and boat strikes. Whale sharks are hunted for their skin, liver oil, and meat, though countries worldwide are increasingly regulating or banning whale shark hunting. Whale sharks also ingest large quantities of microplastics. The health effects of this are not understood currently. Whale sharks are kept in captivity in less than 20 aquariums worldwide. They need very large tanks and have special feeding requirements that makes it difficult to keep them healthy. Wild whale sharks pose no threat to humans though there have been reports of them ramming sport fishing boats after being provoked. In places where whale sharks seasonally aggregate, snorkeling or SCUBA diving alongside them has become a major ecotourism industry. Touching the sharks can hurt them and is illegal in most places. Some tourism agencies have been known to lure in young whale sharks by feeding them shrimp, something which is discouraged by naturalists as it can foster dependence on humans and potentially introduce dangerous chemicals to the sharks' diets.

(Image: a person in a pink swimsuit wearing goggles and a snorkel swimming next to a whale shark just beneath the surface of the water. Two other whale sharks are in the background. End ID)

[whatsnewalycat]

I Know

(Second Part to Bunny)

Summary: It didn't take you long to figure out that your new co-worker, Javier Peña, is a former client from your days working a phone sex line. But does he know who you are?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 5.3k+

Content / Warnings: professor javi, former phone sex operator reader, professor reader, co-workers, seduction, yearning, dirty talk, smut, smoking, swearing, drinking

Notes: Hi, pals. LOOK I TOLD YOU I WOULD DO A SECOND PART TO THIS!!! True to my word, baby. Hope you like it.

There’s such camaraderie in a cigarette. 

At the social hour after New Faculty Orientation, smokers gather on the sidewalk outside the University of Texas San Antonio’s John Peace Library. Liquor-fueled mouths babble on, letting off thick plumes of exhaust into the cloudless sky. Blue ribbons of smoke dance off the ashy orange tips of cigarettes between puffs. 

All these academics broken off from the crowded meeting hall into bite-sized chunks, generally determined by field of study, familiarizing themselves with the colleagues they’ll come to rely on. Within this horde, you ask yourself: Who will have a lighter when I can’t find mine? Who will commiserate with me over a smoke when I have my first work-related breakdown? Facilitate those necessary micro-therapy sessions that get me through the hardest days? 

Dr. Natalie King, whose poison of choice is menthol flavored, chatters on about her excitement to be working at her alma mater—a proud Roadrunner, through and through, eventually asking, “Where did you work before this?” 

“This is my first job out of my doctoral program.” 

It’s mostly the truth. You take a drag off your cigarette, then blow a chimney stack out the corner of your mouth. 

“Oh, straight into academia, huh?” she smirks, and when you grin, she comments, “Brave girl. Well, if you ever have any questions about the clinical side of things, feel free to reach out to me. Lord knows us gals have to stick together in such a male-driven field.”

A flash of light catches your eye, the glare of sun off the library door opening. An attractive, dark-haired, mustachioed man steps out into the bright, buzzing Texas sun. He slides on a pair of yellow-tinted aviators and pats his shirt pockets, fishing out a little white and red box. He plucks a cigarette from the pack and meanders up to your two-person sample study in women’s psychology, asking Natalie, “Got a light?” 

She nods and starts digging through the purse hanging off her shoulder while the man shifts his weight to one leg and pushes the cigarette between his plush lips. He takes a cursory glance around at the other smokers as Natalie curses under her breath.  

“I got it,” you pull a lighter from the pocket of your slacks and hand it to him. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs around the filter and lights the tip, inhaling until it’s a glowing ember, then gives it back to you. 

“Dr. Natalie King,” your companion introduces herself, sticking her hand out to him. 

He gives it a firm shake and says, “Javier Peña,” then turns to you and holds out his hand. 

You take it and tell him your name through an exhale of thick smoke, meeting his dark eyes through the sunglasses. He holds your gaze for a moment, then steps back and brings the hand to his hip, jerking his head towards the library, “What’re you two in for?”

Natalie answers that you’re both Doctors of Psychology, then goes on to explain which classes she’ll be teaching when the 2002 Fall Semester begins next week. 

While she does this, you tilt your head at him, trailing your eyes along the sharp edges of him. The steep slope of his nose, the squared off corners of his jaw, the defined muscles of his neck. He holds himself like there’s a restless energy burning beneath his skin, shifting his weight from leg to leg, eyes working over his surroundings. On guard. 

There’s something about him that piques your interest. His voice, warm and deep and smooth, unearths nostalgia from deep within your gut. You mentally sift through acquaintances, friends of friends you might have met at a party, people from your hometown, et cetera, trying to figure out how you know him. It’s strange because you think you would remember meeting someone so handsome. 

Your eyes flick to his left hand. No wedding ring. A shiny silver wristwatch catches your attention, though, when it jiggles a little. You glance up, find his eyes locked to yours, and don’t look away until Natalie asks him what he’s teaching. 

He pinches the cigarette between his lips and takes a long drag, exhaling words warped by smoke, “Criminal Justice.” 

“I see,” Natalie drops her spent torch on the ground and grinds it into the sidewalk with the toe of her brown loafer, then crosses her arms, “What were you doing before this?”

“Not much the past few years,” he cocks an eyebrow and shrugs, “Helping my dad out on his ranch down in Laredo, but I was DEA before that.”

“Oh wow, ok.”

You frown, “What did you say your name was again?”

He flicks his gaze to yours and answers, “Javier Peña.”

Recognition punches you in the gut. Your face gets all hot and you drop your eyes to the sidewalk, “Oh, ok. Well. Great to meet you, Javi.” 

You stomp your cigarette out, turning to Natalie with a sigh, “Should we go back inside?”

“Sure.”

Don’t look don’t look don’t look—fuck. 

Your eyes betray you. They snap to his. Those dark eyes, studying you with precision, narrowing just enough to twist your stomach in a knot. 

Natalie starts towards the library doors, and you trail behind her, ignoring the burn of his stare following you inside. 

—

Throughout the next couple weeks, when your paths cross, his gaze lingers. 

Sometimes you don’t even notice he’s there until your brain’s ancient hardwiring sends out a primal pulse of warning, making your nerves to crackle. During workshops and interdepartmental meetings. While walking the halls. In the faculty parking lot. And, of course, on your smoke breaks. 

You wonder what information he obtains in those small moments before your heart thuds and face flushes, urging you to put as much space between yourself and his meticulous gaze as possible. 

Each instance summons the ghost of his voice as you walk away, greeting you with a cool, “How’s Bunny doing tonight?” 

Asking you, “Can you do something for me, sweetheart?” 

Asking, “Are you touching yourself? Let me hear it.”

It forces you to revisit the evolution of your intimacy, how the two of you gradually went from “It’s nice hearing your voice,” to, “I thought about you all week,” to, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too. Don’t suppose you make house calls, do you, Bunny?”

These memories start to bleed into your thoughts with alarming frequency. 

You think about him when you brush your teeth in the morning. When you go to sleep at night. Every free moment in between. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you wonder, “Does he think I’m attractive?” Then scold yourself for giving a shit. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you lie to yourself, “He wasn’t talking to me, he was talking to Bunny.”

—

Only a few students and staff roam the campus at this time of day, when overnight dew still clings to the blades of grass hidden from the sun. This particular spot, a tucked-away path between the Biosciences Building and a parking garage, usually only has one visitor each morning: you. 

Every once in a while, the hum of a car engine sounds from behind the big oak tree you’re propped up against, followed by the slam of a car door, then the echoey shuffle of shoes against concrete as whoever makes their way to wherever. 

Mostly, though, it’s peaceful. 

You raise the 22-ounce styrofoam cup of watered-down gas station coffee to your mouth and pause, gauging the heat of the steam that brushes your lips. Too hot. Lowering the cup to your lap, you spot a robin a few yards away. It hops across some damp grass, tilting its head this way and that; its keen, beady eyes scan for movement below the earth’s surface. 

A deep breath expands your lungs and your eyes drift closed. You concentrate on the cool ground beneath your legs. The oak tree holding your body upright. Your head rolls back against it, like you’re trying to soak up some of its fortitude for the day ahead of you. 

The dry scuff of footsteps on the cement sidewalk tugs at the edge of this meditation. They come to a stop nearby, then you hear a familiar timbre ask, “Mind if I join you?” 

Your eyes snap open, spine straightening as you squint towards the source: Javier Peña. 

Heat trickles through your body as you survey him. The navy blue fabric of his fitted suit stretches across his broad shoulders in a way that’s really not fair. Sunlight douses him in brightness, and his dark eyes seem to glow in the warmth. He shifts his weight to one leg and plants a hand on his hip, glancing around before he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and plugs one into his mouth, then holds the pack out to you. An offering. 

Against your better judgment, you nod in approval. 

A little smirk makes the dangling cigarette bob between his lips. He saunters over to where you’re seated, visibly relieved when the shade of the oak tree falls over his body. With a quiet grunt, he sits down next to you, unbuttoning his suit jacket, resting his back against the sturdy tree. 

Again, he holds the red and white pack of cigarettes out to you. You take one, murmuring, “Thanks,” as you shove the filter between your lips and light it. 

He does the same and takes a sharp inhale, exhaling blue smoke, “Nice spot you got here. Quiet.” 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, heart thumping loud and hot behind your ears, “How are your first few weeks going?” 

“Fine,” he shrugs and flicks ash from the tip of his cigarette, “Pretty different from what I’ve been doing these past few years.”  

“Right, on the farm?” you inquire, purposely getting the vernacular wrong to throw him off your trail. 

He doesn’t correct you, just nods, “Although, some of these kids are stubborn as cattle.” 

You laugh at this, “It’s been an adjustment, huh?” 

He hums in accord, and you can feel his eyes on your profile, studying you. 

Your insides twitch. Skin tingles. You take a drag off your cigarette, then say, “Yeah, same here. I’m straight out of school, so it’s pretty surreal being on this side of the fence.” 

“I bet,” he murmurs, “Wha’d you do for work?” 

“Customer service, call center stuff.” 

You’re not sure why you didn’t just make something up. Say you did manual labor or clerical work or something. 

Maybe it’s because you know how earnest he is, and any potential lie would feel like poison in your throat. Maybe it’s because the space between you feels electric and sacred. 

Maybe there’s a small part of you that wants him to figure it out. 

“How’d you like that?” he asks as he blows a cloud of smoke away. 

“Well,” you sigh, looking down at the coffee cup pinched between your legs, avoiding his gaze, “I liked it, actually. I talked to a lot of different people. It was interesting. Plus, the paycheck was nice.” 

Again, he hums in acknowledgement, then chuckles, “Hopefully this gig pays better.” 

“Yeah,” you snort, “A lot better. It was fun while it lasted, but this… this is my purpose, you know?” 

You glance over at him now, and his eyes lock to yours. The intensity of his stare inspires tiny flutters from deep within your core. Right when you start to ask yourself, “Does he—?” Javier nods, “I know.”

These two words give you a head rush. Your mouth gapes, and his gaze flicks to the open space between your lips. It lingers there for a beat too long before he looks away and takes one last drag off his cigarette. He crushes its glowing orange cherry into the earth and murmurs, “I better get going.”

“Oh—yeah, ok,” you frown, following his form as he rises to his feet and brushes grass from the seat of his pants, “It was nice talking to you.” 

Javier smirks down at you, those devastatingly warm brown eyes softening when he asks, “See you around?”

“Sure thing,” you smile. 

He stares at you for a moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, then turns and leaves the way he came. 

—

Later that night, your office phone rings. 

You pick it up and pinch the receiver between your ear and shoulder, “Hello?”

“What’s up, Doc?”

A knot twists in your belly. Your eyes flick to your closed office door, then to the lecture notes scrawled on index cards all spread across your desk. 

“Hi, who am I speaking to?” 

Like you don’t know. Like the rich notes of his voice don’t instantly send shivers down your spine. 

“Javier Peña,” he answers. In the background, there’s a clink, followed by the slosh of liquid pouring into a glass. 

Nostalgia hums thick beneath your skin. Hundreds of conversations flash through your head and shimmer between your legs. You lick your lips and ask, “What can I help you with, Professor Peña?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice again like this,” he murmurs, then clarifies, “Over the phone, I mean. I missed it.” 

A few things happen in quick succession within the confines of your body. 

First, your heart swells. You curl the cord of your phone around your index finger and smile. He missed it. He missed you. 

Then, an odd feeling dims your brightness. Like you’re naked in front of a crowded room. Exposed. You sit up straight and whip your head around the empty room. 

Finally, the peacekeeper inside you tells you to calm the fuck down. This doesn’t definitively prove he knows. Maybe he’s confused you for someone else. Or maybe he’s playing a joke on you. 

It’s fine. 

A wet swallow sounds on the other end, then he continues, “I didn’t know you’d be so attractive in person, though… Bunny.”

Shit. 

Electricity floods your veins and short-circuits your brain. 

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” you let out an exasperated chuckle and push your chair out behind you. The coiled cord of your phone works as a leash as you pace the width of your desk, “Professor Peña, I’m not sure who you think I am—”

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Don’t bullshit me,” he purrs, his voice sure and steady, “I know.” 

Shock steals your tongue. Your eyes clamp shut. Chest aches. Hands tingle. You take a deep, shaky breath and try to harden your tone, “Know what, exactly?”

Javier ignores your denial, just says, “Come over.”

“Javi—” you start to protest, destroying all pretense as you stare up at the ceiling. 

He doesn’t say anything. The line is silent as he waits for a better response. 

Eventually, you ask, “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why are you doing this—What do you want?” you drop your voice to a whisper, “Look, if you’re trying to blackmail me—”

“Blackmail you?” he scoffs, “Do you really think I’d do that?” 

You scoff, “Well, I don’t know—”

“I promise it’s not like that, sweetheart. I’d just like to have a drink with you in private, so we can… talk.” 

“Now who’s bullshitting?” 

The speaker crackles with an airy chuckle, “You got me there.” 

“So… what do you want with me, Javi?” 

You hear the metallic flick of a lighter. A sharp inhale. His words are fuzzy with smoke when he asks, “Haven’t you wondered what it would be like?” 

Heat flickers deep inside you. You imagine his hands gripping your body. His mouth hot on your skin. You lean against your desk and shrug, “It doesn’t matter.” 

“That’s not an answer.”  

You don’t trust yourself to say anything. 

He takes a drag off his cigarette, then says, “All that talk about what we would do if we were together. How well you’d take me. What that sweet little cunt would feel like wrapped around—”

“Javi, it was a job,” you whine. It holds little conviction. 

He’s quiet. The low, airy hiss of his lungs drawing smoke. Then, “Are you saying it wasn’t real?”

Heat rises to your face. You open your mouth to lie, but you breathe the truth instead, “No.”

“Then come over.”

You bite your lip, looking down at your lecture notes with indecision. 

“Please.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you concede, “What’s your address?”

—

Javier’s one-bedroom apartment is small and tidy. The stark white walls are void of decoration, but the tasteful home furnishings, all wood and bronze and leather, tell you this choice is less “sad bachelor pad” than it is “I want my fucking deposit back.” 

What was intended to be a dining room area has been made into a home office. A large chestnut bookcase lines one wall, displaying various textbooks and whodunit novels alongside family photos. A matching chestnut desk butts up against the adjacent wall. Stacks of papers and notebooks, most aptly described as an “organized mess,” sit atop the deep wood finish. 

You lean on the kitchen counter opposite him and watch him pour room-temperature whiskey into two low tumbler glasses. Each nerve ending in your body buzzes with anticipation. You try to think of things to say, small talk to make, but it all seems flat. Disingenuous. The words all die on your tongue. 

This doesn’t seem to bother him, though. 

He slides a glass across the counter, then rests his elbows on the surface, eyes flicking around your face as you take a sip. 

“What?” you chuckle after swallowing the burning liquid. 

He shrugs, “You’re just… much more beautiful than I expected.” 

“Oh yeah?” you smirk, meeting his eyes, “What were you expecting?”

He licks his lips and smiles, this big, brilliant, sly smile, “Real answer?”

Fuck, he’s handsome. 

“Always,” you grin in return, batting your eyelashes at him as you lean closer onto the counter. 

“I imagined you so many different ways, and none of them seemed right,” he confesses, face falling into a frown, “I expected disappointment.”

“Oh,” you wince and nod, dragging the tip of your finger along the rim of your glass, “Well… are you disappointed?”

“No,” he tells you firmly. Your eyes snap to his, and he asks, “Are you?”

“No,” you breathe, searching his face. 

A hum sounds from his throat. The air between you is thick and magnetic. It clings to your skin and makes you shiver. 

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he coos, his vocal cords catching an edge, “No bullshit, alright?”

Your heart gallops. You swallow hard and nod for him to continue. 

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Everything seems to tilt. Marionette strings pull your spine taut. Your tongue traces your lips before you take a swig from your drink. You can’t look at him, but feel his gaze burning your face.  

The counter creaks as he pushes off it. He works his way around it, slowly, deliberately, each step amplifying across your tingling skin, until he’s inches away, hovering there. Heat radiates from his body and pulses between your legs. 

Javier purrs your name. 

You look over at him and meet those warm, dark eyes, all hooded with want. They drop to your mouth and seem to study your lips. It’s like something tightens around your lungs and squeezes every ounce of air from them. 

“I, um…” 

It comes out barely a whisper. 

His throat rumbles in response. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, making you shiver, and says, “Look at you, so shy all of a sudden.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He nods in acknowledgment, but he scoots closer. Drags the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip. A shudder racks your body and you whimper. 

“I didn’t ask you if it’s a good idea, I asked if you want to fuck me,” he murmurs, hot gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth. He slides his hand against your abdomen. It stays there as he steps behind you, pulling you into the heat of his chest, “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, though, would you?” 

“Javi—”

His lips press a damp spot into your shoulder, the warm tips of his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shirt, drawing soft circles on your bare skin, and he hums, “Hmm?”

You gasp as his touch ripples deeper, jolting your insides, making your eyelids flutter, “We really shouldn’t.”

But you reach back and place your palm on the nape of his neck, gently coaxing him to continue. He leaves a trail of slow, heated kisses to your thudding pulse. The wet velvet of his tongue rolls against you. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe, threading his hair through your fingers, pulling him closer. 

A pleased rumble sounds from deep inside him. His lips form a seal, sucking the tender skin of your neck. You moan at the wave of pleasure that gushes down your spine. 

The hand at your navel slides over the zipper of your pants, following the curve between your legs, applying firm, flush pressure. He holds it there while dragging his tongue up your neck, then catches your earlobe in his teeth and tugs. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he releases. 

“Come on, sweetheart, say it.”

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and roll your hips against his hand. He draws it away and mutters in your ear, “All that dirty talk over the phone, now you can’t use your words?” 

“Fuck me,” you whisper, pushing back into the bulge in his jeans, grinding into him. 

He sucks in air through his teeth and grazes your cheek with his nose, “What’s that?” 

You chuckle and drag a finger along his jawline, “You heard me.” 

“Maybe I wanna hear it again.”

“Oh yeah?” you twist around to face him, hooking your hands at the back of his neck. 

He drinks you in with this lustful gaze that settles on your lips and nods, then takes a step closer, backing you against the counter, pressing his body into yours. 

“Is that what you want?” you drop your voice to a sultry whisper and tilt your head, “You want me to tell you how wet my pussy is for you? How it’s begging to be filled by you?” 

A groan escapes his chest and you grin. 

“That’s it, isn’t it, baby?” 

“It is.” 

Your teeth catch your bottom lip for a moment and you shrug, “Do you wanna feel how bad I want you?”

He nods. 

“Go ahead, baby.” 

Javi searches your face as a hand slips under the waistband of your pants, then under your panties. A thick finger slides between your lips, down the gooey middle of you, and he rasps, “Holy fuck.”

You gasp at the gentle way his touch explores you, moving up and down your folds, spreading your heat. 

“That feels good,” you breathe, looking up through your lashes to meet his eyes. 

He rubs your clit in soft, concentric motions, holding your gaze, his mouth gaping open when you whimper and nod in approval. Each flick of his wrist accumulates hot and sticky and alive at your core, prodding your pulse, warming your skin. Quiet gasps fall from your lips. Your eyelids flutter and you rake your fingers through his hair. 

“Do you like that?” he asks, all rough edges, “Like the way I touch you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I love the way you play with my pussy, Javi, feels so fucking goood, oh my god—”

His lips crush into yours. You clamber closer, kissing him back, heated and needy, both of you making all these throaty, desperate noises as your mouths meet again and again, licking, tugging, kissing. His touch between your legs quickens, your entire body starts to sweat and tremble as pleasure twists inside you. 

You’re overcome with this aching need for more. 

“Javi—please,” you beg between kisses, hooking a finger under his belt, “I want you.” 

His throat rumbles. He captures your lips in another kiss before grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom. 

When he flips on the light switch, it reveals a few cluttered surfaces and a four-post bed. You pull your shirt off over your head and shuffle out of your pants as you absorb everything. The suit jackets hanging on the corners of his dresser’s vanity mirror. A stack of mystery novels on his nightstand. The white comforter, rumpled like he tried to make his bed but he’s not very good at it. 

So much proof that this person who only existed as a voice in your life for so long is flesh and blood. 

It’s surreal. 

“Did you ever think something like this would happen?” 

You turn to see Javier unbuttoning his shirt, gaze drifting along your body. His pants lay in a pile beside him. An amused smile spreads across your face when you notice his cock standing at attention. He shucks the shirt off his shoulders as you step towards him and slide your palms up his smooth chest. 

“What, that I’d fuck a client?” 

Javier nods. His hands land on your waist and he guides you back towards his bed, planting a few languid kisses on your jawline, mustache tickling your skin. 

“No,” you chuckle, “I had a very strict no meeting policy… as you know.” 

The backs of your legs butt up against the bed. You land on the bed with a soft bounce and crawl backwards to allow him space to follow. He does, running his hands along the curves of your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your sternum. 

As you tell him, “You were my favorite, though,” he reaches around your back, unhooks your bra, and tosses it aside. 

“Was I?” 

His heated palms slide up your ribcage, over the slope of your breasts, and he squeezes them. You gasp, eyebrows threading together, and nod. He drags his tongue across your nipple, then closes his lips around it and sucks. A burst of pleasure soaks your insides, sharpening when his teeth catch the bud and grind down. 

“Ffffuck,” you whine, meeting his eyes as he moves to the other nipple, licking, sucking, biting. Every motion drips hot down the middle of you. 

“Do you like playing with my tits?” you coo while combing your fingers through his hair, making it stick up every which way, “You do, don’t you, baby?” 

His eyelids flutter and he moans, nodding, then opens his mouth wider and takes more, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks. 

Your head falls back with a moan, “So fucking good, yes—”

Javi comes off you with a pop and rolls your nipples between his fingers, “So hot.” 

You watch him work his way up your body, leaving kisses on your sternum, your collar bone, your cheek, your lips. Your hands slip around his shoulders and you arch your back into him, wrapping your legs around him, soaking up the warmth of his skin, your lips and tongues meeting again and again, exchanging soft moans, hips grinding his cock between your bodies. 

“I need you,” he says, eyes all wild and black, “Fuck, I need you—”

“Take me.” 

He steals another kiss from your lips before sitting up to pull off your underwear. While tossing them aside, he drinks you in, sliding one heated palm up and down the curves of your body, purring, “Look at you. Fucking perfect.” 

You whimper at his praise, at his reverent touch making your nerve endings buzz. He strokes your clit with his thumb, mouth hanging open as your whole body shivers and writhes in reaction. 

“So sensitive, mi conejita,” he murmurs, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, “Do you want it?” 

“Yes,” you nod, arching your hips, “I need it—I need to feel you inside me, Javi, please.” 

A noise surfaces from deep in his chest, then he breathes, “Fuck, say it again.” 

You thread your eyebrows together and bat your lashes at him, shifting your voice into the lusty, airy tone you know gets him going, “I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Need your cock to fill me, make me whole—”

“Fuck,” he groans, hips rocking forward just enough to breach you. A jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine and you moan. 

“Do you want more, baby?” 

You lick your lips and nod frantically as he works your clit faster, the tip of him teasing you. Pressure builds in your chest and pulls your muscles taut. You roll your hips and try to get more of him, more movement, following the heat pounding through your veins. 

“Need more of my cock, baby, that’s what you need?” 

“I need more of your cock,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering at the growing fire deep in your belly, “Please please please, Javi, plea—”

“You’re gonna come for me just like this, aren’t you?” his voice only amplifies the feeling, making your heart race, and then he rasps, “Fuck, baby, do it, let me feel you, let it go.” 

You do. 

It overtakes you, flooding you with pleasure, your whole body shaking from the force while Javi strums your clit fast and hard, cooing, “That’s it, mi conejita, that’s it, come for me baby. Doesn’t that feel good?” 

You whimper and nod, unable to form words until your orgasm peters out and leaves you panting, staring up at him. He meets your gaze. His cock pulses inside you. 

Seeing him like this, his hair all disheveled, skin dewy with sweat, dark eyes fiery and enamored…

“Come here,” you sit up on your elbow and bring a hand to his chin, coaxing him closer. He follows you down to the bed and kisses you with force, a groan vibrating on your tongue as you drag it against his. 

He starts to roll his hips, filling you more and more with each thrust, the thick length of him electrifying your walls. 

His lips don’t leave yours. Neither of you pull back to murmur filth to the other. The only noise in the room comes from your humid bodies pressing together, from whines and moans traded through panting breaths as you renew the kiss again and again. 

You push back against his thrusts, digging your fingers into the broad expanse of his shoulders, losing yourself in the feel of him stretching you, the heat of his skin clinging to you, his mouth against yours. 

Pleasure builds, hot and demanding, between your bodies. He fucks you faster, pumping into you at a frenzied pace that makes you gasp and nod, pulling you higher and higher. His hand grips your jaw and he stares down at you, searching your face, his puffy lips forming an ‘o’ as he watches your face contort. 

Neither of you seem in control of the noises escaping you. They’re frantic and breathy and sharp. 

At once, it’s like you’re sucked up into a vacuum. All the air evacuates your body and your muscles clench. The noises stop when you reach the crest of the wave, and when ecstasy crashes down, you let out a choked sob, convulsing around him. He groans, low and guttural, hips stuttering as he captures your lips in his and spills inside you. 

A few languid kisses pass back and forth before he rolls off you. You follow the persuasion of his arm curling around your shoulders and tuck yourself into his side. He holds you here like this for a while, staring up at his ceiling while your breathing returns to normal, and eventually he asks, “Why was I your favorite?” 

You shrug and watch your fingertips draw swirls into his chest, “You wanted me to be me, not your idea of me.” 

He hums, grazing his thumb against your shoulder, then says, “I think that’s true for both of us.” 

“Yeah?” you shift to meet his eyes. 

He nods, dropping his gaze to your mouth. You draw closer to kiss him, slow and soft, and when your lips part, he murmurs, “Mi conejita.” 

[captain-mj]

Bad dog

Been a while since I did something with muzzles and had an idea

Ghost had come back from a very successful mission, the captured creature had been locked away and catalogued. Another win for him and the fucking scientists.

He lit a cigarette and watched the... things in their rooms and cells. The scientists assured them that none were human, but he wasn't sure he completely believed them. Some were very good at mimicking people.

His personal favorite was A21987028. Or Soap. Scientists liked spouting off that long string of numbers, but Ghost preferred the nickname given. It was like how the dog like creature in cell 483 was named "Riley" because of the collar it had on when it was found. And while yes, she was a little maneater, Ghost still snuck her biscuits and things to eat and she liked him better.

Soap was interesting. Brimming with intelligence, perfectly mimicking a Scottish man, and friendly.

Ghost went to his room and sat with him, likely he usually did. He sat across from him and Soap perked up. The brown leather across his face was the only grim reminder of what he was. Otherwise, he looked normal. Even his clothes were nice, of the latest fashion.

"Hello, Simon." Soap said with a smile, teeth flashing under the brown leather. Same one Riley wore. Same one everything in this building wore but the guards. "Come to chat?"

Ghost shifted, legs spreading to fill out the chair. He looked at Soap. "Another mission. Caught a thing that looks like a mix between a raccoon and a sparrow. Its wings are too small to fly."

"How did you catch it?"

Ghost had speared it like a fish and held it down, blade causing yellow blood to gush out until it had the good sense to stop fighting. He had thrown it in the cage and heard the useless wing snap.

"Used one of those loops on the poles. It hooked around it's neck and i dropped it in the cage. No harm, no foul."

Soap nodded and walked over. There were strict rules on most of the creatures, but Soap was different. Intelligent enough to know that fighting back was futile. Friendly enough to be able to play nice. In the fifteen years there, he had never once caused an incident.

The muzzle stayed, so did the chains around his ankles, but his hands were freed. His room decorated. Books were given to him. A tv. He had plenty of enmities.

Ghost still felt guilty. If he could, he'd let Soap leave. But Soap was not truly Soap. He was A21987028. A thing that had appeared out of the sky and ate flesh.

For now though, it wasn't feeding time. Ghost could be here, with him. In this space.

Soap leaned down and brushed the muzzle against Ghost's mask. Like an animal.

"Simon. Do they listen to our conversations?"

"Don't necessarily listen, but they do record them. If there was ever a need, they'd review them. But you won't do that. You're a good boy." Ghost meant it as a joke. A fucked up version of one, but a joke.

Soap looked at him, that brilliant blue was wrong. It happened occasionally. Soap wouldn't look like Soap. He'd look like someone or something else. Usually they were so subtle, Ghost would be unsure if they really even happened.

"Shame. Sometimes, I want to tell you things. Tell you secrets. But I can't. Things listen."

Ghost had no doubts in his mind that Soap didn't mean the microphones.

"I apologize, Soap. Lights out soon, I'm on night duty."

"Will you come say hi to me as you pass?" That wasn't what Soap really wanted. He wanted Ghost to sneak him food.

“Maybe.” Ghost smiled at him.

Soap brightened considerably. “I’ll wait for you.” He smiled and went around the room, a sway to it.

Ghost left, as always, wondering what Soap would feel like if they could touch without his gloves between them. He’d show Soap the sun. The moon.

Instead, he had to have a picture of them on the wall.

Ghost thought of the dozens of documentaries over space and human history and war. Soap requested to have a documentary over bombs, but they denied him immediately.

He'd do wonders in the human world. But it wasn't human. It was hard to remember that at times.

Ghost made sure before he went back by Soap that he had a candy bar to slip into his cell. A candy bar that was grabbed by a hand with too many fingers.

"Simon?"

"Yes, Soap?"

Soap looked at him, eyes glowing enough so Ghost would surely see him. "I appreciate the time we spend we spend together."

Ghost smiled at him and he could tell, despite the mask, that Soap could see. He pulled away and kept walking through the yard. Creatures tried to get his attention. All hoping that he'll be the one to slip up and let them free.

The night ended like all nights ended. With him turning into his own bed in a different barracks. With Simon laying down and remembering that he's doing good for the world.

He couldn't have been asleep long when the alarms went off. He assumed it was Protocol L at first, a common break they had was that particular one. But then he heard the numbers that followed and realized more than just one had escaped. He grabbed his gun and checked his gear, happy he hadn't taken much of it off, and got out the door.

Ghost put the majority of the creatures back in their cages, safe and sound. Most were intimidated by him, despite being able to grow much bigger than him.

Then his gun came face to face with Soap.

The muzzle was still securely on, but the chains had been broken. "Simon. Don't make me hurt you."

"Think you have the nerve?"

"Come with me. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere just the two of us." Soap grabbed his hand and moved closer. "I promise, I'm really not like the others. I don't want to hurt you.""

Ghost put his gun under Soap's chin. They had about five minutes to leave. "How can I trust it? How do I know you weren't playing the long con?"

"You know me. You love me. i love you. Let's go." Soap squeezed his hand tight. "Please. I want to see the world. See everything."

Ghost squeezed his hand back and made a decision.

[bimbo-baggins17]

could you do a smut for anakin/unburnt vader where he manipulates you into finally being with him & joining the dark side and possibly where your memory is wiped of him doing everything bad to get to the dark side because it was all for YOU and he can’t risk losing you? also him using the force on you and him just being totally obsessive 😵‍💫😫

i hope this request is okay i’m so bad at this lmao 🖤

BORK BORK BORK HI I LOVED THIS AHHHHHH also my first Vader piece 🥲🫶 also this is maybe a littler darker than what you had intended 😅

Dddne, 18+ MDNI! You’re responsible for your own media consumption!

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“Stop fighting me, my love,” Anakin, or rather Darth Vader grits out from above you as he fishes his throbbing cock out from under his robes. Any other time you’d be begging but now you’re acting like an ungrateful bitch. Couldn’t you see this was all for you??

You claw at his chest, trying to push him away, crying. “No, no please don’t Anakin,” You beg, squirming underneath him, unable to look at his now yellowed eyes for long.

If you had just listened to him and stayed put where he told you to then you wouldn’t have had to of witnessed the horrors he committed and he wouldn’t have to be here trying to convince the love of his life he wasn’t the monster you now saw him as.

He shakes his head, “Can’t do that sweetheart, you need to see I’m still your Ani…that I still love you. Now quit moving.” He folds your legs up, keeping you from moving them.

You swat at his chest, trying to shove him away. He clenches his teeth at your continued fighting, getting even more pissed. Why couldn’t you just listen?? With the force, he instantly pins your arms down against the ground, enabling any movement.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!!” You cry out, it’s your last resort now. He growls out before suddenly you can’t speak, your words cut off. Your eyes widen as your throat tightens.

“Can’t ever just listen,” He huffs out in anger. His thick tip prods your entrance. Despite not wanting him, your body betrays you and works to welcome his familiar touch. “Wouldn’t have to do this,” He breathes out as he quickly sinks his length into your gummy walls, “if you just listened in the first place.”

His hips snap into you at a brutal pace, “This is all for you. Can’t you see that?” He captures his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows pulling together at the intoxicating feel of your pussy around his cock.

He killed them. He killed them. His friends, allys, people who trusted him. Children. Oh god the children.

Your mind repeats it all, the pictures flashing through your mind of what you walked into.

“Kriff. Stop it!” The only downside to him having such a close connection with you is that with your force signatures intermingled, he can read, rather see your thoughts. And now you’re just reminding him of the monster he unintentionally became for you.

Anakin’s hold on your legs is released and you think maybe, just maybe, you somehow got through to him. But no, nothings that easy. His hands come to your temples and your eyes widen in fear, the tears spilling out faster. He was going to kill you.

“No, no, I’m not gonna kill you. Never kill you, sweet girl.” And it’s weird how his soft tone almost soothes you. His eyes close and at first you’re confused, a slight tingly feeling starting in your head. It grows until you’re left looking up at just love of your life.

He knows it’s wrong, but it also worked seeing how your gaze softens and your pussy accommodates his length that’s still fully sheathed in you. Anakin stops keeping you so pinned down, allowing you to speak.

“Ani?” Your tone is quiet, almost a whisper. Your memory of all the atrocities was wiped clean, but you aren’t blind. You can see the Sith eyes that took the place of the beautiful blue ones you used to get lost in. Your hand comes up to the side of his face.

He shakes his head, leaning into your touch, “It’s okay my love, I promise. It’s still me,” Slowly he starts to rock his hips into you again.

A soft moan slips past your plump lips, “B-but-“ You try to argue but the way his cock ruts deliciously into you is enough to start scrambling your brain, “..a..S-Sith?”

He sighs, leaning down so his face was close to your’s, something he always loved about missionary. “The Jedi lie, baby..they’re hypocrites..all liars,” He sucks in a breath, trying to keep himself from cumming before he makes his point, “..wanted to keep us apart..didn’t want me to succeed.” His lips find the pulse point of your neck, leaving a wet kiss there. “Wouldn’t make me a master…despite forcing me to have a padawan..didn’t matter how much I proved myself to them..” He snaps his hips into you to punctuate every few words. “They wanted me miserable.”

“But..the..the dark side..?” You whimper.

“Unlimited power,” He breathes out, “can keep us safe. You safe. No more death. Did this all for you baby..”

He takes your legs and folds them up again, not to pin you down but to hit all the angles only he can reach that make your toes curl. He draws a loud unashamed moan from you.

“Join me..” He rasps out.

The closer you get to your orgasm the less you can pay attention. He can tell so he slows the roll of his hips down to an agonizing pace. You whine at the lack of stimulation but it draws you back to the moment. He comes to grip your jaw to keep your eyes on him.

“Join me,” He repeats, “Join me and together we shall rule the galaxy.”

His eyes are pleading, his words almost whimpered. It still feels like your Ani in that moment. You don’t take long to think before you’re nodding your head.

He grins down at you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “That’s a good girl. Now hold on for me.” He picks the pace back up, pounding into your pussy, relishing in the wet squelching as she gushes around his throbbing length. This was reward enough for the crimes he’s committed.

Instead of pulling out, he greedily allows himself to cum inside, stuffing his seed deep in your cunt that milks him dry. He can excuse the younglings he murdered if he can see your belly swollen with children of his own.

“There we go, my love. I knew you’d see reason.” He coos lovingly after finding his bearings. He presses soft kisses to your sweaty face. He slips himself out, scooping the cum that spills out back into your pussy.

“Our family will rebuild the galaxy. We’ll rule it all, sweetheart